Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season #2)(5)


He lowered his head and licked one pink circle, gently kissed it, and sucked the nipple into his mouth, tugging and then releasing it slowly, and tugging again. Rose closed her eyes and arched her body toward him, reaching for something elusive that she couldn’t imagine, but that she wanted more than anything.

“Please, Cameron.”

He sucked her nipple harder, and then moved to her other breast and licked her, kissed her, his breath coming in rapid pants against her flesh. With one hand he reached under her dress and tugged at the ribbons of her drawers.

“Sweetheart,” he said, “you need to stop me now.”

“What?” she rasped.

“If you don’t stop me now, I’m going to take you.”

Take her? Make love to her? Her skin was tight around her body, and her only thought was how she wanted him. “Yes, take me. Please, Cameron.”

“Dear God,” he said, exploring her flesh with his fingers. “You’re dripping wet.” He rubbed against her slick folds and then brought his hand it to her mouth. “Taste.” He traced her lips.

She darted her tongue out and licked the musky sweetness from his fingertips.

“Your ambrosia,” he said. “You made it for me.”

He glided his fingers under her skirts again, finding her sex and touching her wetness. He brought them to his own mouth this time. “Sweet,” he said. “So sweet.”

Rose thrashed against him, arching her hips wildly.

“Do you want me to touch you again?”

“Yes, yes, again.”

He complied, reaching under her skirts, finding her swollen nub, and teasing it with his fingers.“Does this make you feel good?” he whispered.

“God, yes, Cameron. Yes,” she sobbed, grabbing his hand and rubbing it harder against her.

She moaned, writhing beneath him, running toward something—she didn’t know what—until her insides exploded in a wave of pleasure that sent stars into her body, crashing her into a wall of joyful euphoria. When her shuddering finally slowed, Cameron released her

He lowered his head to hers, kissed her mouth lightly, and whispered, “Does Xavier make you feel like that?”

“No,” she said, breathing heavily, seeking his mouth with hers.

“Who makes you feel like that, Rose?” he asked, his breath tickling her neck.

“You, Cameron.”

“Who do you want to take you? Who, Rose?”

“You, only you.” And she meant it. She wanted him inside her. Now.

Cameron brushed his hand down her arm, making her shiver, taking her hand and leading it to his groin. “Do you feel that?” He moved her palm over his arousal. “That’s for you, sweetheart. Only for you.”

Rose explored the hardness through the silky fabric of his trousers. “Cameron,” she whispered. “My goodness.”

“I ache for you, Rose.” He groaned. “Only you can ease my suffering.”

“I want to. I want to, Cameron.”

“Are you sure, sweet?”

“Yes, yes. Take me now.”

“Do you…understand what will happen?” He panted in her ear. “Do you?”

“Of course. And what I didn’t know my sister told me. I just didn’t expect you to be quite so…engorged.”

Cameron laughed softly. “Perhaps I’m better endowed than the duke.”

“What?”

“Never mind, my darling. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, yes, please. I want it more than anything.” Rose sat up and tugged at Cameron’s black formal coat. “I want to touch you.”



Rose’s face was flushed in the moonlight, her eyes shimmering with passion and promise as she looked at him, her shoulders creamy white as a new-fallen snow, and her bare breasts hanging gently, their tips rosy and puckered. God, she was lovely, and Cameron wanted her, hungered for her. She was his for the taking. He could have her once and remember this night forever.

“Damn it,” he said gruffly.

He couldn’t do it. She was a virgin, a lady of the peerage, the daughter of an earl, for God’s sake. Cameron removed her hands from his coat. “Rose, we’re going to stop now.”

“No, no.” She pulled at his hands, trying to release her arms. “I want to, Cameron.”

“Sweetheart, I need to leave you while I still have a shred of sanity left.” He pulled her to her feet. “You’ll regret it if I take you this way, outside, in the grass. You deserve to be loved in the comfort of a bed. Your first time shouldn’t be like this.”

“No,” Rose said. “If…If this is all we’ll ever have, I want it now. Please.”

“You deserve more. You deserve better. Better than…”

“What?” she asked, toying with his cravat. “Better than what, Cameron?”

He looked down at the grass, at his feed shod in shiny leather boots. His formal wear had cost more than he normally paid for clothing in a year, yet he had used a portion of the money he had earned from the duke’s waltz, money that could have helped his family. The duke had requested his presence at the wedding ball as composer of the piece, and Cameron had bought the garments so he wouldn’t look like a mere peasant. He had bought them for Rose. To impress her. He knew he was attractive to women. He knew he looked elegant in his black courtly clothes. He knew she would notice him, and she had. But he was still a tenant on the duke’s land. The expensive suit didn’t change that. He was nothing.

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