Tomorrow's Dreams (40 page)

Seth laughed and kissed her scowling lips. “Perfectly.”

Still pretending, she leaned back and fixed the enormous bulge at his groin with a look of mock disapproval. “What is this, young man?” She poked the bulge with an accusing finger, almost giggling when he jumped and gasped in response. “Shouldn't you have brought this problem to my attention sooner?”

He tried to look properly contrite, but a chuckle slipped out, spoiling the whole effect. “I promise I will in the future.”

He looked so endearingly roguish with his battered face and crooked grin, that a smile stole to her own lips as she began to unbutton his black brocade waistcoat.

“Since you're in such a desperate state, my boy,” nanny Penelope continued, “we'll let your shameful lapse pass. But just this once. Understood?”

“It won't happen again,” he promised, his eyes dancing with devilry. “So what do we do now that I'm forgiven?”

“I think the most important matter right now is to get you out of your clothes and get to work on relieving your lust.” Giving him an un-nanny-like leer, she removed his waistcoat and tossed it to the floor, then pulled out his diamond shirt studs.

“You know,” he murmured as she began yanking his shirttail from his trousers. “An important part of this lust-relieving business is that the lustee divest the reliever of her clothes.”

Nanny was back. “Patience, young man,” she admonished sternly, pulling him forward so she could slide off his shirt. After discarding the garment, she pushed him back in his chair to admire his masculine beauty.

His shoulders were wide and powerful, his chest broad with each muscular contour perfectly delineated by hard, sculpted bulges and deep, shadowed grooves. Though the bandage bracing his ribs covered much of his midsection, it couldn't disguise the spectacular taper of his torso.

Filled with breathless awe, Penelope let her appreciative gaze trace the dramatic curve, down the steeply narrowing line from his expansive chest to the sinewy leanness of his waist, stopping only when she came to the top of his trousers.

Staring hungrily at the black fabric, she gently traced the edge of his waistband with her finger, visualizing the rippling grid of belly muscle she knew lay beneath. When she could bear the anticipation no longer, she reached for his buttons.

With an agonized groan, Seth caught her fingers. He, too, was beyond bearing. So much so, that he knew if she opened his trousers and touched him now, his passion would explode. And he'd dreamed of this moment too long to let it end in such disgrace.

Ignoring her moue of protest, he drew her fingers to his lips to kiss them. “Oh, no, my greedy princess. Not yet. There are certain rules to be observed in this lust-relieving business. One of which is that both lustee and reliever get equal time admiring the other's body. Now, since this is usually done in stages so as not to drive the lustee into a state of premature madness, I suggest that I take a turn and remove your bodice now.” Hopefully the tedious task of unfastening all those hooks would give him a chance to regain some of his now almost nonexistent control.

Penelope stared at him through the thick fringe of her lowered lashes as if considering his proposal, then nodded.

Gingerly Seth pulled her against him. Ignoring the way her soft cleavage seemed to burn his chest skin, he pushed her hair aside and began to fumble with the fastenings at the back of her bodice. As he'd hoped, by the time he clumsily wrestled the last hook free, his frustration had pushed his need back to a manageable level.

More in command now, he tilted his head down and gave Penelope's rosy earlobe a soft nip. He felt rather than heard her moan against his chest. “Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You need to sit back now so I can remove your bodice.”

With a purring sigh, she complied.

Never had she looked more desirable than she did now, wantonly straddling his knees with her bodice sagging off one shoulder and her unbound hair tumbling around her passion-flushed face. She was staring at him with such adoration, such undisguised longing, that Seth had to grasp the edge of his chair to keep from ripping himself from his trousers and taking her where they sat.

As if sensing his precarious state and eager to incite him to action, Penelope removed her bodice herself. Her motions slow and teasing, she slipped one arm out of its tiny puffed sleeve, then the other, holding the bodice in place the whole time so as not to give him the briefest peek at her hidden delights.

When he responded simply by gawking like a lust-besotted fool, which is exactly what he was at that moment, she gave the frilly bodice a tempting wave. “Rules are rules, and you said that it's the lustee's job to disrobe the reliever.” She lowered her violet and ivory silk shield a fraction to give him a titillating glimpse of her décolletage. “Unless you haven't the constitution for the task?”

The teasing challenge in her voice snapped Seth out of his moonstruck stupor. Growling in reply, he snatched the bodice from her hands and tossed it aside. His bold growl faded to a whimper of defeat. God help him! How was he supposed to look at such feminine perfection and still maintain himself?

He smiled with sudden inspiration. Perhaps the answer to his problem was as simple as extinguishing the light. In the past they'd always made love in the dark, and the lack of visual stimulation had done much to bridle his runaway passions.

But would it work now that he'd had an eyeful of her gorgeous body? Desperate enough to try anything, Seth reached over Penelope's shoulder to turn down the flame of the desk lamp.

“It's' all right,” she said, stopping him. “I don't mind if you see me naked.”

“Well, I do mind,” he growled.

There was short pause and then, “You don't … like my body?”

“Not like it?” Seth drew back, staring at her in amazement. “I like it too damn much. Just the sight of it is almost enough to make me lose myself. That's why I need to turn down the lamp.”

She returned his stare for a moment, then laughed, a low, husky sound. “A man of the world like yourself losing himself at the sight of a half-naked woman? Really, Seth! How absurd.”

“Not so absurd when the half-naked woman happens to be you,” he retorted, his urgency almost peaking as she stood up and let her skirts slowly slide to the floor. The fabric of her drawers was so sheer that to Seth's almost ruinous disconcertment, the dark triangle between her legs was clearly visible.

As she posed before him, one hand on her sweetly rounded hip, the other resting on the tantalizing swell of her breasts, something inside him snapped.

Sobbing with the agony of long-repressed need, he lunged forward and grabbed her, raining reckless kisses on her face and breasts as he wrestled her to the plush red carpet. When she lay sprawled beneath him, moaning in kiss-dominated submission, he rose shakily to his elbows to stare down at her flushed face.

“I wasn't joking about your beauty,” he croaked. “If I don't turn down the lamp now, I don't think I can hold back long enough to make love to both our satisfaction.”

Smiling tenderly, she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull his face close to hers. “Remember my first morning as your valet, how I found you aroused and thrashing with desire in your sleep? Since then, I've dreamed of seeing you like that again, only writhing in response to my touch instead of to a dream.”

Pressing her forehead to his to capture his gaze, she implored, “Make my dream come true. I can think of no greater satisfaction than watching your body respond to my touch and seeing the look in your eyes as you find your pleasure.”

Inflamed as much by her words as by her nearness, Seth pulled from her embrace to straddle her hips. Knowing that he was probably going to regret his words, yet powerless to resist her sweetly whispered plea, he said, “Very well, my lovely reliever. The lamp stays lit, but only if you agree to let me pleasure you first.”

“The lustee wants to bargain does he?” Penelope purred, running her finger across the flesh abutting his waistband.

A gasp exploded from Seth at the resulting shock of erotic sensation. Sucking in a labored breath, he pulled her hand away and pinned it to her side. “It's a lustee's privilege to negotiate the terms of his relieving. Especially if he's in love with his reliever and wants to assure her sexual satisfaction.”

“And the terms?”

“Are that you promise not touch me in an inflammatory manner, which includes no rubbing up against my male parts, until after I've given you your woman's pleasure. I will not take my release until I've given you yours first.”

She slanted him a seductive look. “And then you'll allow me to do my duty as a reliever?”

He nodded.

“Then, what choice do I have? If I don't agree, you might drive yourself mad by foolishly prolonging your lust. And since I'm not about to allow you to do that”—she stretched her arms above her head in voluptuous surrender—“I give myself over to your sensual ministrations.”

Chapter 23

Seth gazed down at the temptress beneath him, uncertain for the first time in his two decades of sexual experience how to proceed. Never had a woman aroused him as Penelope did, never had he been so anxious to please. What if, for all his best efforts, he failed to satisfy her?

Stop it!
his heart commanded.
You've never failed before and you're not going to now. Don't you remember the times you loved her? How naturally she responded to your touch? You love her and she you. Let that be your guide, and you won't go wrong
.

Trusting in his heart's wisdom, he leaned down and gently kissed Penelope's slightly parted lips. “Do you know how much I adore you?” he asked, his fingers finding and releasing the fastenings at the front of her corset.

She reached up to stroke the long line of his back. “If it's even half as much as I adore you, then it's a great deal.”

He moaned and pushed her arms back to her side. “Don't!”

“Our deal specified that I not touch you in an inflammatory manner, and I'm not,” she said, lifting her arms again.

Gently, but firmly, he wrestled them back to the carpet. “Sweetheart, your every touch inflames me. So unless you want to breach our agreement, in which case we turn down the lamp and grope blindly in the dark, I suggest that you just lie still.”

It was Penelope's turn to moan. Didn't the blasted man know that she found his body as irresistible as he did hers? That she couldn't help touching him? And the smell of him …

She closed her eyes and inhaled as Seth bent near. A heady fusion of heated male flesh and spicy soap assailed her nostrils, robbing her of all awareness but that of wanting him; a sensation that deepened as he finished removing her clothes.

His touch was gentle, almost caressing as he drew off her undergarments; his lips soft and worshipful as he kissed each newly exposed area. So sensual were his ministrations that by the time she lay completely naked, her body was charged with an excitement that was both shocking and pleasurable.

Breathless with expectation, she waited for Seth to transport her to the next level of passion. But to her squirming dismay, he sat back on his haunches and simply looked at her.

Taut seconds stretched like hours as he surveyed her. Just when she was sure she could bear the anticipation no longer, he reached down and lightly trailed one finger down her torso.

Electrified, she arched up, crying her pleasure. Smiling in a way she found indecently thrilling, he slowly retraced his tingling path, meandering upward until he reached the base of her breast. Then his hand stilled.

Aching to be fondled, Penelope begged, “Seth … please.”

“Please … what?” he purred, his tone provocatively baiting.

She rubbed against his hand. “Please … touch me.”

He chuckled. “What's this? The reliever succumbing to the carnal wiles of her lustee?” As if testing his theory, Seth ran an experimental finger up through the cleft between her breasts.

She whimpered and jerked in positive response.

“Aha! As I suspected.” His grin grew very wicked. “There's a penalty for such weakness,” he said, drawing rings around one breast, circling nearer and nearer to the hardened peak.

“Penalty?” she managed to grasp, writhing in a desperate attempt to propel his hand to her aching nipple.

Deliberately ignoring her efforts, he stopped just short of the rosy border to explain. “When a reliever falls victim to passion while in the line of duty, she is required to endure whatever amorous punishment the lustee deems appropriate.”

“Which is?” she groaned.

He stared at the stiffened crest less than an inch from his finger as he seemed to consider. Finally he replied, “I think it only fitting that a weak-willed reliever be pushed to her libidinous limits, at which point she must beg for mercy. This will show her that she can endure more lust than she suspects, and she might not be so quick to surrender in the future.” With that decree, he traced the very edge of her puckered areola.

The resulting sensation was almost more than she could bear. Her breath coming out in sharp, trembling sobs, Penelope did as he demanded. “Please, Seth. I'm begging you.”

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed.

Emitting a quivering moan, she seized his hand and pressed his fingers against the throbbing point. “Stroke me here.”

“Like this?” he murmured, advancing to the center to capture the crest between his thumb and index finger.

Her breath quickened at the contact, and she was unable to do more than mew her approval.

Alternately stroking and tweaking, he teased her sensitive peaks, rousing her responses until they hit a fevered pitch. When she lay panting and thrashing, he replaced his fingers with his lips. Just when she was certain she would die from pleasure, he pulled away.