DEVIL’S EMBRACE by Catherine Coulter

“You did not tell me this before, Cassandra.”

She shrugged helplessly, and gave him a crooked smile. “I was not drunk before.”

He pulled her gently into his arms and held her. He felt her head loll against his shoulder, and cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her face to his. She closed her fingers over his, and to his delight, pressed her mouth against his.

He unfastened the row of tiny buttons over her bodice, and lightly brushed his palm over her breasts. She stiffened at his touch.

“Look at your breasts, cara.”

Unwittingly, she lowered her head and stared dumbly at herself. Her breasts ached and felt swollen, as if he had been fondling them.

His voice continued caressing and soft, yet he remained motionless, his eyes holding hers. Her fingers clutched convulsively at her bodice, gathering it beneath her breasts.

“You want me, Cassandra. It is time you admitted that to yourself.”

“I do not know what I want anymore,” she said, and pressed her cheek against his chest.

He cupped her chin again and looked into her eyes, wide with uncertainty. “I will show you, cara.”

He kissed her deeply, savoring the warmth of her mouth. He kept kissing her as he pulled her to her feet, leaving her only to ease her from her gown and undergarments. She was staring up at him, her eyes wide and questioning, but her body arched against him, as if with a will of its own. He molded her against him and breathed in the sweet fragrance of her hair.

He released her a moment, silently cursing the time it took him to strip off his own clothing.

When he stood naked before her, it was she who held out her arms to him, her body taut from the ache within her and the thought of how he would, soon, bring her to unbearable pleasure. His hand moved downward over her belly until his fingers found her.

“You are exquisite, Cassandra.”

“So are you.”

He leaned his dark head down and let his mouth caress her breast.

“I want you.”

He clasped his hands beneath her hips and lifted her. “Wrap your legs about me.”

She grasped his neck to steady herself and obeyed him, though she did not really understand what he was about.

He lifted her easily, and she felt his fingers gently stroking her, and then parting her. He thrust upward and she buried her face in the hollow of his throat, whimpering at the agony of sensation he was creating in her. His hands molded her hips tight against him as he thrust into her. She tightened her legs about his lean sides to heighten her pleasure, and sought out his mouth. But the difference in their sizes frustrated her, and without thinking, she reared back against his arms, upsetting his balance. He fell onto the bed with a roar of laughter, and she sprawled atop him.

“So my lady wishes to be more conventional, does she?”

He pulled her upright until she was straddling him, her hips upon his chest.

He caressed and kissed her until she was on the edge of her climax before he lifted her hips and eased her down upon him.

He could not contain his own moans when he felt the rippling convulsions grip her body, and he dug his fingers into her hips and pressed her downward, hard against him. He was deep inside her but the pain she felt was consumed by the waves of frenzied pleasure that ripped through her.

“Oh my,” she whispered at last, and sprawled her length on top of him.

He laughed softly and squeezed her tightly against him.

Chapter 22

Cassie laughed and punched lightly at the earl’s chest as he lifted her from the copper bathtub. He heard a tentative knock on the dressing room door, and quickly drew a large towel around her. “A moment, love,” he said, shrugging into his dressing gown.

To Scargill, who was pacing restlessly to and fro in the bedchamber, he was less loving.

“I trust you have an excellent reason for this interruption,” he said curtly, closing the door behind him.

“It’s Daniele, my lord. He believes he has found that animal, Andrea.”

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