Read Online An Experienced Mistress by Bryn Donovan - Free Book Online Page B

was very good,” she said.
    Well, it had been easy enough, only the merest truth.
    This wasn’t so difficult. He could say whatever came into his head. Here he’d no chance of being betrayed, rebuffed, for any romantic feeling he put into words.
    After all, it was only a game.
    “When I first saw you in your white dress, in the art gallery,” he told her, “you looked like an angel among the mortals.”
    His new mistress said nothing in reply. She stared at him as if rapt.
    “Though my thoughts were far from pure,” he added.
    She clucked her tongue in indignation. “Is that the way one wins a lady’s heart?”
    “Is it?”
    She looked uncertain.
    This was not the look of a worldly mistress.
    “I knew right then I had to have you,” he said in a lower voice still. She leaned forward, perhaps unconsciously. “I want you, Genevieve. Do you not want me?”
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    Then she straightened up again.
    “Yes,” she repeated, but in a brisk voice. “That is excellent. Pray continue.”
    Pray continue? Good God, this woman was enough to make one mad. Will reminded himself that they only play-acted. He tried to think of some other glib compliment. Then they could move on.
    “I wanted to know you were not just some romantic vision of mine,” he said. Once the invented words passed his lips, they had the ring of truth, even to his own ears.
    What were they doing, exactly? God help him, he did feel a bit at sea. He wanted to throw her down on the settee, tear off her clothes, and end the confusion.
    “I wanted to lay my hands on you and know you were real.”
    “Touch me,” she murmured.
    Her voice was so soft he wasn’t sure he heard her. “What?”
    “We can move on to the next step,” she said. “Touching.” Her throat must have been dry, despite the brandy she drank, because her voice cracked a little.
    She looked out the window, as if thoughtful. “You may begin with my hair. Women love to have their hair touched. More than men realize, I think.”
    Will didn’t hesitate. He leaned in to do what he wanted to when she first opened the door: take out one of her hairpins and let a lock of her red-gold hair tumble down.
    He sat very close to her, close enough that he felt her breath on his cheek. He reached toward her chignon, but then paused, curiosity getting the better of him.
    “Women love to have their hair touched?” he asked in an undertone. “Or do you in particular enjoy it?”
    Her head still held up proudly, she dropped her gaze, so that he couldn’t read the expression in her eyes. He saw heavy lids, feathery lashes.
    “Both.”
    Will scrutinized her a moment longer before turning his attention to the task. His hands went to either side of her head, his fingers reaching around to the back. Her mouth was only a couple of inches from his—he used all his self-restraint not to cover it with his own.
    He found something arousing in focusing his attention on such a specific thing. Will worried that it might feel forced, awkward, to play this game. But it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
    With care, he located and plucked out a jeweled hairpin. She licked her lips. He removed another pin and another, until her hair cascaded down, loose and free.
    No wonder ladies weren’t allowed to go around with their hair down in polite society. With someone like Genevieve, it looked practically indecent. Will imagined what those waves would feel like against his bare chest, or tickling his thighs if she were to lower those luscious lips to his…
    “Yes?” came softly from those lips now. “Go on.”
    He tucked the hairpins in his coat pocket, so that they wouldn’t get lost. His fingers stroked at her temple, drawing back the silken curtain of hair that brushed against her face. He released it and watched, absorbed, as strands fell softly to grace her cheek again.
    She didn’t move. With her he was free to take his time and explore. He leaned closer to lift the luxurious