Ramsden’s hands came down on her shoulders, his fingers kneading gently through the thin material of her dancing gown. He turned her away from him to face the cabinet, his voice low and soft at her ear. In that moment, her senses were utterly encircled by his presence; the scent of him in her nostrils, the warm strength of his body against her back, the press of his fingers to her shoulders. He was the centre of her universe, the only person she could see, smell, touch or hear. Julia could scarcely concentrate on the tale he laid out in tones designed to seduce even the most resolute spinster.
‘The symbol is known throughout the eastern world as yin and yang, two opposite but yet complementary forces that make up all aspects of life.’ His voice dropped a notch lower, speaking now just to her. ‘Yin, the dark portion of the symbol, is female. It represents valleys and streams. It is passive and absorbing.’ At this, Ramsden ran a hand languorously down her arm, took her fingers between his and led them over the bottom part of the inlay, the ebony smooth and cool to her touch. He guided her hand over the top portion done in ivory.
‘This is yang, her male counterpart, representing light and heaven. Yang is penetrating and active.’ He pressed his hips against the round swell of her buttocks, letting her feel the possibilities of penetration between her thighs, between them. Julia inhaled sharply at the suggestive display. He whispered huskily, ‘Yin and yang express the interdependence of opposites. Without the other, neither is complete. Feel the need you arouse in me, Julia, a need only you can slake. ‘
Julia felt weak. Heaven help her, she was a wanton to react in such a base manner with a stranger she didn’t know beyond a name. Her business proposition was quickly turning to unnamable pleasure. She wanted to sink back against his chest, let his arms close about her and take her weight. She wanted him to fulfil the ancient, earthy promises of his voice. She’d never guessed a simple cabinet could inspire this depth of longing.
One of his hands slid about her waist, drawing her against his hardness, the other was in her hair, slipping through the pins and pearls of her elegant coiffure until her hair hung loose and free. This time when his hardness jutted against her back, she could not even feign shock over his intimate proposal. This time, her inhalation was from pure desire that would not be put off any longer.
She turned in his arms, pressing her body against his, instinctively rubbing her nipples against his chest in a desperate attempt to quell the tempest brewing at her core. She looked up into his face. His blue eyes no longer reminded her of the colour of the sky on a deep summer day, but bore shades of midnight, darkened as they were by his arousal.
Something thrilled deep within her at the knowledge she had done this to him. But her own rising need left little time for contemplation or even a celebration of victory. She was drowning in heretofore unknown sensations and she clung to him for support. Intuition told her only he could provide an antidote to what coursed through her veins.
‘Steady now,’ Paine whispered to her, his hands on the buttons of her gown, expertly freeing her body from its satin casing. Through the thin linen of her chemise, he traced the silhouette of her body against the candles’ flames. His thumbs teased her nipples through the cloth until Julia panted for release. She reached to pull the chemise over her head, suddenly in a hurry to be completely naked, as if by being so she could assuage the pressure growing within her, demanding emancipation.
To her frustration, Paine pushed her hands away. ‘Not yet, my eager one.’ He bent and swept her into his arms. Julia gasped at the sudden movement, but she hadn’t the wherewithal or desire to protest when he laid her on the low bed amidst the silken covers. She made no move to cover herself. She could do nothing but hold Paine’s intense stare. She reached for him to pull him down to her, but he stepped back.
‘Watch me, Julia.’
Did she have a choice? Julia could not muster the fortitude to look away. Paine’s eyes did not leave hers as he lifted his shirt over his head and stood magnificently bare-chested before her, his torso bronzed from years beneath a tropical sun, the strength of the arms that had lifted her evident in the obvious musculature of his shoulders and biceps. Julia groped for a word to describe him. Beautiful came to mind—sublime, masculine beauty, the kind of beauty sculptors carved in stone and for the night it was hers.
His hands dropped to the waistband of his trousers, reminding Julia that he was not done. He was not wearing small clothes underneath and the core of his manhood sprang free of the trousers, straining upright towards his belly in unabashed glory. Artfully, he bent to pull his legs free of the trousers, supplying Julia with an unadulterated glimpse of his backside.
He must be a fabulous horseman, Julia concluded, eyeing the muscled power of his long legs and firm buttocks. The thought was so errant and ridiculous, Julia choked back a giggle.
‘What is it?’
‘I was just thinking you must be a great horseman,’ Julia confessed.
Paine smiled wickedly. ‘I know how to ride.’
The cryptic remark puzzled her. She sensed there was a double meaning, but she could not fathom what it was, too enamoured of the sight before her to do anything else.
Seeing her consternation, his smile softened and he knelt on the floor beside her, the knuckles of his hand grazing her cheek in a caress. ‘Ah, Julia, my innocent.’ He reached for a trifle box on a low table and withdrew an unfamiliar item. Julia watched, amazed, as he fitted it on to his sex.
‘It’s a sheath to prevent us from making a child,’ Paine explained softly. ‘Now, we’re ready for our true pleasure.’
Julia could not imagine more beyond what she’d already felt but Paine knelt at her stockinged feet and convinced her otherwise. Skilful hands rolled down the stockings and discarded them. Lips kissed the sensitive space behind her knees until she thought she would scream aloud from the sensation of it. Heat built inside her, a heat that was damp and scorching all at once as Paine’s hands spread her thighs and his mouth nipped seductively at the tender flesh near her woman’s core, his breath hot against the triangle of her curls.
Then he was over her, covering her with the length of his form, his sex strong against her leg. Without leaving her, he reached again for the trifle box and retrieved a small vial of oil that smelled of lavender when he removed the stopper and poured some into his hand. Julia watched, entranced as Paine moved his hand between her legs and gently inserted his oil-slick fingers inside her.
‘You’re ready for me,’ Paine whispered, covering her again and this time it was his sex that found purchase at her entrance. Julia felt him thrust in, just a little at first, and then, to her dismay, withdraw. She cried out her disappointment. Paine smothered the cry with a kiss and entered again, further this time, and withdrew, then again until Julia realised his rhythm and intention.
Secure now that she was not being teased, Julia fitted her hips against his and joined in the rhythm. She felt him plunge deep, felt a sharp stab of pain. He stilled inside her as she breathed a cry into his mouth and waited until she urged him onwards.
Deep inside her now, their rhythm increased, the pressure grew, spiralled to new levels. Not even his kiss could silence her moans of delight. In this new pleasure, she was free. She was not bound to the earth or to anything on it; beneath Paine Ramsden, she was flying, soaring. When she felt she could not soar any higher, she felt her core fracture into countless pieces, the pressure that had built in her since his first touch finally assuaged. She was boneless and drifting in a new satisfied world, aware only that Paine, too, had seemed to reach a level of fulfilment, contentment. He, too, had cried out at the last and now rested against her, his weight a warm reminder of their intimacy as sleep took her.
Chapter Four
Paine awoke to the scent of lemons mingled with the musk of sex and the warmth of another body cradled against his own, his arm draped over the lush curve of a breast.