Thea Devine - Fascinated

But she wanted to jump in headfirst and mire herself in a swamp of sensuality. "Then take the step, Jeremy," she said, her voice husky. "I'm waiting."

The magic words. I'm waiting. She could see it in his eyes. A man liked to have a willing woman waiting. One secret to stash away and examine when she was alone.

He tilted her head, holding her head immobile between his hands. Big hands, she noted distractedly. Warm hands.

He lowered his head. "It's more elegant this way; we won't bump noses. And then, as I approach you, you must open your mouth to receive me." He came closer and closer still, his gaze hooded, watching her response and reaction, and the emotion warring in her eyes.

I'm waiting. Every part of her must be waiting no matter how she felt. Another secret. Oh, how quickly these secrets revealed themselves in the heat of the moment. Another thing to analyze when she was alone.

She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and felt him swoop down into her, the movement even more shocking for the total domination of it.

His tongue enveloped her, probing, seeking, stroking. She felt inept under the onslaught, but at least she held her own; she didn't recoil at his touch. She didn't pull away. She leaned into him, inviting more.

But she hated her own passivity. How did a woman respond to such a kiss? What did a woman do?

A mistress knows what to do.

Hadn't he made that oh so clear?

A mistress welcomes a man and freely offers herself to hint for his pleasure.

A mistress willingly gives him everything he wants…

Secrets.

Mistresses never shrink from any sensual experiences…

More secrets.

Her body constricted. Never shrink.…

Offers herself…

Her body arched; she moved her tongue against his and felt the faint jolt of his body.

Another secret.

Willingly gives…

This isn't so bad.

Her body seemed to be responding all out of proportion with the observations of her mind. She liked this kiss. She liked the feel of him deep in her mouth, eating away at her. She liked dueling with him, and discovering that she could nip and lap and play with him. She liked holding on to his strong hard hands as she moved into the kiss.

He tasted good, tasted sweet. He was by turns gentle and masterful, and she found she could meet him halfway, either way.

Amazing where a little determination could take one.

Another secret.

He nipped at her tongue, before taking it between his teeth and sucking at it.

She almost swooned at the pulling sensation, giving herself to it willingly. Freely, willingly….

All she could do was hang on and offer him all he wanted.. • all he could take… for his pleasure-

He sucked at her more insistently, harder, deeper, harsher. She felt a deep twinge in her vitals, felt as if she were melting somewhere between her legs.

A mistress willingly gives a man everything he wants. Things you can't even imagine…

What things? A mistress knows.

Everything.

This?

She felt him tense, his hands tightened, and then the gorgeous heat of his mouth slowly, slowly, slowly eased away from hers, erotically pulling at her lips before he finally disengaged from her.

She made a little sound at the back of her throat. Don't… •

Don't what?

Don't leave me…?

No-

Don't stop.

Her body contracted somewhere deep within. / want more.

More.

He did too.

Her breathing constricted. They could be alone in the house for all Reginald would interfere with them. He could stay with her and kiss her like that all day. The whole long, long day.

Yes…

Stay with me.

He read every emotion in her eyes, every nuance of her body. The virgin in bloom. There was no more dangerous flower, no more poisonous dew than an innocent newly aroused.

He was susceptible, too. Just for a moment, he forgot who she was and where they were, and he had lost himself in the erotic heat of her mouth, and pushed aside all caution, all restraint.

Oh, a luscious mouth could positively destroy a man.

But not him. He understood the dangers now that she had tasted her power. It was merely a matter of harnessing his, and mastering her long enough to keep her away from ruin.

He was the man for the job. And the tightness in his groin-well, any woman could arouse him to that kind of pitch. It wasn't Regina; it was the driving heat of a succulent kiss. Any man would respond to that.

And yet, as he gazed at her soft mouth and shimmering eyes, all he could think was, I want more.

Not so indifferent, he thought wryly. But then, what was the harm? He would teach Regina what she wanted to know, enjoy what little she would give, and keep her out of Raulton's bed.

And in my own.

He shied violently from the thought. This wasn't what it was about, damn it. It was about obstructing her pursuit of Raulton. And teaching her a few things. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

The fact he was still breathing hard had nothing to do with anything. But if he stayed any longer, it would.

He could not make himself move. The tension escalated, along with her expectations. He wanted to, he did, and she wanted him to. It was just another step, and he could take her.

He could do anything with her he wanted; he saw it in her eyes. Willing. Waiting. Mirroring everything any man could want, everything a man could desire.

Damn damn damn… he couldn't let this get out of hand.

He thrust her away. "Enough, my lady."

She shook her head. "Let us take the next step."

"My next step is out the door, Regina."

"Why?"

"Because my taste does not run to foolish virgins," he snapped, out of patience with her-with himself.

She stiffened. How could he? After that voluptuous connection between them, how could he?

But that was a man. That was what he was trying to tell her, and what she had already seen: it was nothing to him and everything to her.

And that was the reason why she must cultivate a different sensibility. A man did not like to be tethered and cobbled. A man wanted to walk away and never regret anything-but who was to say a woman couldn't feel the same? It was just a matter of learning how.

Oh, it was making so much sense, so much sense. But she had to ensure he would not go back on his promise to teach her.

Blast him. "We will continue with our lessons," she said, keeping her tone expressionless.

"If you will," he answered in kind. God, it was getting complicated. If only Raulton were not in the picture.

"Excellent. Do remember, Jeremy, it is not you in my lowered sights: it is for Mr. Raulton that I must be on the mark."

His body tightened, just thinking of it. "As you say."

"And today, I performed well, did I not, for a foolish virgin?"

"No man could complain." And no sane man would walk out on her either without taking advantage of what she so obviously wanted to give. How did that first lesson take so well?

"Then we are all right and tight, and we will go on."

"I said we would."

"When?"

"When your delicate sensibilities dictate, my lady."

Oh, but her sensibilities were delicate no longer. She knew what she wanted now and exactly what she had to do.

"Do you go to your mistress now?" She had to know, and she would know, if not today, then tomorrow or next month, but she would know.

He grit his teeth. "I fail to see how it is your business."

But it will be, dear Jeremy. It will be.

"Friday will do," she said insolently, dismissively, ignoring his sharp tone.

He cringed. Lady of the manor now. She knew how to play that role very well. What had Reginald gotten him into? What had he gotten himself into?

"Friday, then," he agreed curtly, and she turned away from him to hide her triumphant smile.

She followed his progress out of the room by his footsteps, through the hall, a pause for his hat, the slam of the front door, and she watched him covertly from behind the library curtains as he took the front steps and signaled for his horse.

Dear, dear Jeremy… you've taught me so much already. You have no idea. In one afternoon, you have turned everything I thought I wanted inside out. And now, I will keep up the pretense of chasing Raulton for one purpose and one purpose only, as the means to get what I want.

And what I now know I want is to be your mistress.

So this is the secret to enslaving a man: think like a mistress, act like a mistress. Know what a mistress knows.

All the carnal secrets. All the feminine tricks. All the male vices.

She mentally ticked off the points one by one as she stared at herself in the bedroom mirror.

Be welcoming. Be willing. Every part of you must be willing with all that means. Offer yourself freely for his pleasure. Never ever shrink from anything he wants of you. Act as if you crave it, too. Be determined you will do whatever he asks of you.

An excellent bargain for the reward of a man's loyalty and carnal fidelity, and wealth and freedom besides.

Who was Jeremy's mistress? Who among all the beauties had attracted him and even now was giving herself to him willingly? The thought was not to be borne. Not after that kiss.

She would find out. Tonight, at Almack's, among all those women there would be seductive mistresses, known only to the lovers who kept them. She would try to discern who they were and how they behaved to better understand what she must do to take Jeremy away from his mistress.

And she would further the pretense that Raulton was her mark.

There was a full plate for one evening, she thought, and she must dress the part besides.

Nothing pleased her. Every dress she took out of her closet seemed insipid and virginal, and for this evening, this moment, she wanted something much more daring.

She might be turned away because of it-it didn't do to cross the patronesses at Almack's-but tonight was one night she would take the chance.

She pulled out a dress of blue satin with an extremely high waist and low-cut neck and blond lace trim at the hem and sleeves. Here was some sophistication. And she liked the way the knots of cream-colored flowers on a rouleau of blue ribbon fitted tightly to her midriff, shaping and emphasizing her breasts. There were matching faux flowers to entwine in her hair, which was styled a la Grecque, and matching shoes, gloves and shawl. To finish, she chose to wear a pair of pearl earrings and a long pearl necklace.

She motioned her maid to one side, and stood away from the mirror.

Ah, this was more like it. This was not the reflection of a green girl. This was a woman, whose body tantalized from beneath the sensual drape of her dress, who was covertly, seductively on the hunt.

Was she really this daring, this foolhardy? Or was it just the game?

"Time to go, Regina." Her father knocked at the door. "You look lovely. New dress? Very becoming. I'm so glad you changed your mind."

"No one should miss a moment at Almack's if they have the entree," Regina murmured. "I was remiss not to have considered my good fortune this afternoon." The irony was lost on her father, who believed every social event was a command to attend.

He was just as happy to have her company, particularly during the long wait to debark from their carriage at the door, and then again inside during that first awkward moment of greeting friends and acquaintances.

Everyone was there. The crowd was six deep by the velvet cordon. Regina could barely pass, and she felt a distinct irritation that she wouldn't be able to see, or to carry forward her plan. And she was hoping Ancilla had chosen not to attend be-cause she did not need a Greek chorus naysaying her every move.

But that was a faint hope, blast it. There Ancilla came, in her usual turnout of white muslin, long white gloves, and, a new fashion trick, a matching demiturban in her hair confining her pale curls.

"Always a crush," Ancilla murmured. "How are you?"

"I'm well to do given we saw each other only yesterday," Regina answered in kind. "And you?"

"As ever. Marking time. Observing the absurd behavior of those around me. No, no, not you. But take note that your Mr. Raulton is here already and in fine fettle. I daresay he has his dance card down and is busily deciding which of the Untouched he will touch tonight. I do wish you would give over your fascination with him. He is not worthy of your consideration."