The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie

Chapter Seven

Pleasure bubbled through Ian’s tension. “Carnal relations,” he repeated.

“Yes,” she said, her voice shy. “If it would interest you.”

If it would interest me?

“You mean bed,” he said bluntly.

Her blush deepened, her fingers twisting the ring around and around. “Yes, that is exactly what I mean. Not like a mistress, you understand, but just two people enjoying... that side of life. We like each other well enough, and I don’t foresee that I will marry again. Mather frightened me off that, goodness knows. But perhaps we can be . . . lovers, at least while we are in Paris. I’m babbling, I know, but I can’t help myself.”

Did she know how beautiful she was? Her cheeks were flame red, her look both defiant and uncertain. He gazed into her eyes for one fleeting instant and said, “Yes.”

Beth let out a breath that turned to a shaky laugh. “Thank you for not leaving in disgust.”

Disgust? What man could be disgusted with a lady with eyes like hers, who’d just stammered out that she wanted to be his paramour?

Ian took a step back to have a full view of her. She wore a simple frock of mauve broadcloth, the overskirt pleated, the underskirt soft ruffles. A row of buttons shaped like blackberries marched up her bodice to her chin. The damn collar was too high, closing her off instead of exposing her lovely neck.

“We will start now,” he said.

She jumped. “Right now?”

“Before you have second thoughts.”

Beth pressed fingers to her mouth, as though trying to stop her smile. “Very well, what did you have in mind?” “Unbutton your frock.” He came to her and touched the button at the hollow of her throat. He wanted to take it between his teeth and see if it truly tasted of blackberries. “Down to there.”

“Only that?”

“For now.”

She gave him a surprised look but began to undo her buttons. Her pale throat came into view, the hollow damp with perspiration. It was a beautiful throat, long and slender, unmarred.

Ian slid his hands around her waist. She looked up at him, lips parted, but he didn’t kiss her. He gently pushed open the placket, then leaned down and kissed her neck. “Ian.”

“Shh.”

He licked the hollow of her throat, then pulled her soft skin between his teeth.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a love bite.”

“A love—“

Ian bit down, and Beth inhaled sharply. He suckled, keeping it tender. He tasted the salt of her skin, felt her pulse flutter beneath his lips.

Strip for me, he wanted to say. He wanted to see his Beth with her skirts up, her fingers untying the waistband of her pantalets. He wanted her to pull the pantalets down so he could see her triangle of hair glistening with moisture. His already hard erection gave a throb.

He wondered if her ni**les would taste the same as her neck. He wanted to unbutton the bodice and remove the damned corset so he could feast on her br**sts. He wanted to open his mouth over one, grip the other with his hand.

Go slowly with her. Savor this.

Ian raised his head. He let his gaze brush hers, catching a flash of blue before he lowered it to the safety of her lips again.

Very kissable lips. The bottom one curved slightly, as though she liked to smile; the top one was ever so slightly bowed. Her eyes were half closed, her hair mussed, a dark mark on her throat where he’d suckled her.

“Your turn now,” he said.

Ian slid off his frock coat, pulled off his tie and collar.

Beth watched him intently as he bared his throat. She approached him tentatively, keeping her gaze fastened to his neck. Her curls ticked his chin as she leaned into him, her balled hands resting on his shoulders. Her lips touched his throat, warm and firm. Then he felt the tiny prick of her teeth.

He couldn’t stifle his groan as she caught a fold of his skin. The slight pain as she began to suckle made him want to spill his seed. Lay her on the floor, part her legs, send it inside her. Never since he’d been seventeen years old and first excited by the attentions of a rosy-cheeked maid had he come so close to losing control.

He wanted to open his shirt all the way and have Beth apply her mouth to his ni**les. Then let her sink down to her knees to take his staff into her clever mouth and practice giving him love bites there.

Have carnal relations, she’d said in her sweet voice. On occasion, when we mutually agree.

Oh, yes, there would be many occasions, and he would make certain they always agreed.

Beth eased away and looked up at him, her eyes blue enough to break his heart. “Is that right?” He couldn’t talk anymore, the words jumbling up without meaning. He took her mouth in a wild kiss and scraped her hard against him.

So many occasions, every day, anyplace they happened to be. His mind spun with possibilities. He liked games, and this one he’d never tire of.

It took all his strength to press her away. If he didn’t end this now, he truly would have her on the floor, or maybe straddling him on the convenient straight-backed chair. Both ways. He’d take her all night and not tire. He kissed her forehead, not hearing whatever it was she was saying. He wished he had Mac’s charm, so he could .find the right words to thank her, to propose another tryst, to continue the play. Instead Ian cupped her face in- his hands and gave her another kiss on the mouth. “I said, will you send another message through the very useful Curry?” she asked.

“Yes.” How easy it was to be with her, when she answered questions so he didn’t have to. “That will do.” He retrieved his coat, thrusting his collar and tie into the pocket, and turned for one last look.