Read Online Reckless Viscount by Amy Sandas - Free Book Online Page A

alcohol. He couldn’t recall the last time the pure force of his own desire had risen so quickly. And easily. At the first gentle touch of his lips to hers, pleasure had streaked like lightening through his veins. Her slight weight and delicate curves, her intrinsic warmth and vitality, her tentative response and the profound sweet taste of her nearly undid him.
    But he had held back. He had somehow resisted the fierce desire to plunge his tongue past her lips and explore the inner recesses of her mouth. He had denied himself the pleasure of dragging her skirts to her hips so he could delve his hand between the soft flesh of her thighs.
    Even though the force of his reaction had come upon him unexpectedly, to a man who had mastered lovemaking as if it were a skilled art form, loss of control would have been unacceptable. Somehow, he had managed to keep a tight rein on the pulsing needs of his body and forced himself to accept just a sip of the passion he would have loved to unleash more fully.
    The span of his entire sexual history, starting with a schoolmate’s mother who had taken a liking to him one holiday, did not include a single virgin. His expertise was firmly seated in pleasuring women of a certain degree of experience who were all well acquainted with sex for the sake of pleasure alone. Women who expected to be pushed to the limit in the pursuit of greater heights of ecstasy.
    A proper young lady would die of shock from the things he would wish to do in bed, and he would hate to see even a flicker of disgust in those translucent eyes as he sought his pleasure. No, it was best he accept this one as off-limits, he thought with a sharp prick of regret.
    Leif set the small vase back on the chair and glanced at the clock. It was later than he thought. Rather than drag the hip bath up to his bedroom and lug buckets of water up the stairs two by two, Leif preferred the option that took far less effort. But if he was going to get washed up, he needed to get his use out of the kitchen before Mrs. Helmstead arrived.
    Two hours later, Leif was finishing the intricate knot of the stark-white cravat around his neck while Mrs. Helmstead sang a terribly off-tune limerick about a sailor with two wives as she swept the upper hall. His hair was expertly mussed in the current fashion and his face was clean-shaven to reveal the strong lines of his jaw that many ladies claimed was his most attractive feature aside from his devilish eyes. He leaned toward the mirror set above his washstand with a frown of concentration as he carefully tied the neckcloth so the frayed edges were tucked away and the threadbare spots were concealed.
    Feeling much more human now that his body was clean and his mind fresh and sharp, the malaise that had bothered him upon waking was almost completely gone. He had a full evening ahead of him and he intended to make the most of it. Lady Wharton was fresh out of partial mourning and had been sending out subtle signals over the last few weeks that she may be interested in some male companionship. It was time to see if the wealthy widow was ready for a lover.
    But first, he had to swing past his club to see if he could get in on a card game. He was nearly out of pocket money and wouldn’t make it through the week without getting his hands on some blunt.
    A short time later, Leif left his bachelor townhouse located just off St. James and started down the street with long vigorous steps. He was determined to avoid distraction and get on with what he needed to do. There was no room in his life for a curious young woman who smelled of fresh meadows and tasted of strawberries.
    Leif quickened his steps as if he might outpace the intrusive thoughts, but they stubbornly kept up with him and he found himself wondering about the freckles that were scattered lightly over the bridge of her nose and across her delicate cheekbones. Did they extend below her neckline? Across her belly, or the smooth inner skin of her thighs?