cupped the lush flesh and gently squeezed, again and again. The sensation was deeply erotic. Suddenly all she wanted was to lie down with him, let him suckle her until she cried for joy, running her fingers into his dark hair while he buried his face in her breasts…She swayed against him, feeling something small and hard prick her skin—the earrings.
Breathing hard, Kyril released her breasts and circled his palms over the erect nipples nestled in the lace of her bodice, looking into her eyes now with intense desire. Teasing her. Exciting her. He would have her dress up to her waist next to fondle her bare bottom if she let him—how far was he going to go?
As far as you let him.
No. However handsome, however gifted in the art of pleasing women, Kyril Taruskin was not going to have her tonight.
“That is enough,” she said softly. “I will not go with you and you cannot stay here.”
He nodded, a curt motion at odds with the sensual slowness of his caresses, and ceased what he was doing.
“As you wish, Vivienne. When a lady commands, a gentleman obeys.”
It was rather the other way around, she thought nervously. His tone was neutral, his words polite, but there was an unmistakable steeliness behind both. His reluctance to concede was obvious—he was no longer stimulating her nipples but his hands had moved down again to clasp her waist.
Vivienne drew in her breath and his grip tightened ever so slightly. It was easy to imagine how good those hands would feel on her if she were naked before him, her dress upon the floor in a silken heap, her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, her corset unlaced and tossed aside…
But he might insist on you wearing the corset and nothing else. To start.
Her breasts ached, not from his sensual fondling of them but from wanting more of it. Her flesh betrayed her. Still and all, his expert caresses had not left her dress in disarray. Her breasts were nicely uplifted and pressed together by the exceptionally fine corset that he was not going to see. Her damned nipples were as hard as the emerald earrings he had playfully dropped into her décolletage. The faceted stones pricked her but she was not going to fish them out. He would only look at her, eyes hot with desire, while she retrieved them—and then she would have no chance at all. No, her dress would stay on and her hair would stay up. Vivienne pressed her lips together and held back a sigh.
There was no real reason to refuse him. But it would be interesting to make Kyril wait for what he wanted. His lust for her would know no bounds—and his erotic ingenuity would come to the fore to win her. The moment of ultimate surrender would be intensely pleasurable for them both.
Vivienne favored him with a look that she hoped was stern. The gossip that she had tried to ignore in the last months was not wrong. Kyril Taruskin had a legendary talent for seduction and making love. His conquests were many. Now she understood why.
Of course, no one had ever mentioned him loving anyone. Yet it did not matter, not to Vivienne. Certainly it would be foolish of her to think that she was or would be different, somehow, from the others. Still…she wanted him.
He cleared his throat with a slight cough. “Where were we?”
She cast a meaningful glance at the door.
“Now I remember. You want me to go.”
“Yes.”
He gave her a wry look. “But you are not sure.”
“I am quite sure of what I want, Kyril.”
“Are you?” He grinned at her. Deep-carved dimples appeared, framing his sensual mouth.
Annoyed by his amusement, she tipped her head to one side. “You need not grin like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like a damned wolf.”
Kyril laughed. “Perhaps I am one. I do follow my instincts and I can sense your mixed emotions.”
“How?”
“By what I see.” He gestured at her glass on the low table near the fireplace. “Champagne left unfinished. The ashes of a fire that has burned too low.”
She almost smiled. “As good a way as any to describe the end of an evening.”
“Is it?”
His gaze locked with hers. Damn him—the mixture of intelligent amusement and sexual desire in his expression made her feel hot all over again.
“Vivienne…” His voice was deep and yearning.
She shook her head and Kyril let go of her at last. Vivienne was almost disappointed.
Until he pounced. His full lips captured hers for a kiss that made her tremble. Encircled once more by his arms, lifted slightly, she barely felt the floor beneath her thin-soled evening shoes. Her stockinged toes curled and wiggled under the embroidered flowers on her silk shoes as freely as if she were barefoot.
Kyril’s lips were soft, his technique sensual in the extreme. Opening her lips, his tongue tasted her mouth as if he found her utterly delicious. His kiss was tender but not in the least tentative. His self-assurance and his skill compelled her to respond fully, pressing her body to his at last, arching with the pleasure of allowing so powerful a man to claim her, however briefly…
But the kiss went on and on.
Vivienne was the one who ended it. When he stopped to draw breath, she placed her hands on his chest once more and pushed him away with firm resolve. He stood his ground. She was the one who moved.
Kyril studied her. A few candles sputtered and went out, their hollow stubs filled with molten wax. A thin thread of smoke rose from one extinguished wick and hung in the air. He neither moved nor spoke.
He seemed taller and more masterful, growing in apparent size as the light diminished. Another illusion. Vivienne reached up a hand to rub her eyes and he caught her by the wrist. Her fingers curled into a loose fist, as if to defend herself, but his long thumb gently forced her fingers open.
That done, he pressed a tender kiss into her palm. Then he released her and she let her arm fall to her side, feeling suddenly bereft. How had he ensnared her with such ease?
“Kyril…when will I see you again?” She bit her lip. That had sounded far too eager. Almost girlish.
Kyril only shrugged. “Soon.” He looked at her and murmured a few words in Russian under his breath.
“What are you saying?”
“That you are utterly alluring. And dangerous.”
The first part of his reply was flattering, but the last puzzled her. It was he who was dangerous. To her peace of mind. And to her heart, if she was not careful.
Still, she was feeling reckless. It had been too long since she had let a man get close to her and Kyril was no ordinary man.
“Will you not—” She hesitated, looking at him warily.
“Stay?”
