Tutoring Lady Jane Read online

  She stroked him, up and down, firming her grip on his shaft until his lids lowered and his fingers pinched and grasped her buttocks and then she leaned forward, and slowly impaled herself on his rampant length. He bucked up against her and reached for her hand, the one glistening with their arousal, and pressed it to her breast. When her nipple was wet and straining, he slipped it between his lips and sucked, his hips moving wildly beneath her as her breasts bounced in his mouth and his fingers tightened on her bottom.

  "Gavin," she cried, matching his pace and forcing him to quicken his.

  He said nothing, but placed his strong fingers on her buttocks, parting her and running his finger along her stretched rim.

  Knowing he was feeling himself penetrate her body made her eager and wet. With a small cry, she felt her body stiffen and allowed him to thrust deep inside her.

  Her climax was quite literally blinding, and she fell against him, breathing harshly and tasting the saltiness of the sweat on his neck. But he would not let her rest. Instead, he palmed her again while he stroked her deeply. When his fingers were drenched with her arousal, he brought them to his lips and licked them. "I love your taste, my shundori," he murmured, and she felt his body tense beneath her. "I can't get enough of it. I can't get enough of you." He splashed his seed deep inside her and clutched her tight to his chest.

  Jane clenched her body around his and he groaned, forcing her hips lower onto his erection. She toyed with the ends of his hair that had loosened from his queue and kissed his damp neck. The carriage continued to rock along the road, lulling her into sated sleep. "Should we not be at my house by now?"

  "We're going to Richmond, my shundori," he said as he smoothed a hand down her back. "And there we will continue your lessons."

  "Lessons in pleasuring men?"

  "No," he said, clutching her face in his hands. "Lessons in pleasuring me."

  Chapter Eleven

  The carriage rumbled along the limestone drive of Gavin's Richmond house. As the coach swayed, his arms instinctively wrapped around Jane, bringing her to his chest. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the squabs and forced himself to cease staring at Jane as she slept in his arms.

  Any minute they would approach the house, and Prakash would be awaiting their arrival. Any minute, he would be free of Jane, and his body would no longer burn for her. It was only because her sweet curves were nestled tightly against his belly and chest that he could not seem to think straight. Distance between them would soon get rid of these ludicrous thoughts running rampant through his mind.

  The coach rocked to a stop. Lifting Jane from his lap, he waited until the door opened and carried her down the stair and up the entrance of the house. Prakash was waiting for them. Gavin was thankful that he'd had the presence of mind to dress Jane.

  "A hot bath awaits you, my lord. I have put the bath in the gardens, bondhu, as you requested."

  "And the rest?" he asked over his shoulder.

  "Everything is as you asked."

  "Good night, Prakash."

  "Good night, bondhu."

  Gavin nodded, dismissing Prakash, then continued down the long hall to the bank of French doors that lay open. Stepping inside the conservatory he saw that every one of his orders had been followed.

  "Jane," he whispered as he laid her down on a black divan, "awake."

  Her honey colored lashes flickered then parted before slowly lifting to reveal her intoxicating eyes. "Have we arrived?"

  Her smile was soft and womanly and Gavin felt his insides begin to melt. Distance, he told himself. He couldn't let Jane's shy smiles be his undoing.

  Straightening away from her, he motioned to the tub. "A warm bath awaits you."

  Her eyes widened as he stepped away from her and she reached for him. "Will you not stay?"

  "No." He couldn't stay, not now, not when he was feeling his heart fill with a strange wistfulness he had never before experienced. Her lashes lowered, but not before she could conceal the look of confusion in them. "I will meet you here in a while. I have business to attend to."

  He left her then, strolling to the path that led to his study door. He heard her rise from the divan, the rustle of silk sounding over the gentle cascade from the nearby waterfall. His blood ran hot and thick, slowing in his veins as he thought of the dress being shed from her body. He thought of how her ivory skin would look in the golden candlelight, and he imagined her hands soaping her body--her fingers gliding over her breasts, down her belly only to slide between her thighs.

  The crinkling of silk once again drew his attention and he mindlessly stepped back and peered between the branches of a palm tree only to see the silk gown skim down along her back and over her waist till it fell onto the floor. Her arms came up over her head and he could see the sides of her breast, full and soft and begging for a touch of his hand. She wound her hair up into a bun and secured it with pins, before turning and stepping into the tub.

  A voyeur, he watched as she sank into the water, the bubbles of the jasmine scented water covering her body, shielding her secrets from him. But his mind supplanted the image of full breasts with coral nipples, a softly rounded belly that he couldn't wait to kiss and feel beneath his mouth, and legs, soft and feminine that would fit perfectly around his waist.

  The images in his mind, coupled with seeing her arms move beneath the water made his brain ignite with yearning. She was washing herself, he knew it although he couldn't see her hands touching her skin. He wanted to go to her, to stand beside the tub, yet the sight before him kept him entranced.

  Her hands sank under the water and she leaned forward. Her little foot, covered with bubbles and arched like a ballet dancer's, rested on the edge of the copper tub. She moaned, a soft, husky sound, then rested her head back, closing her eyes as she did so.

  Was she touching herself? Re-enacting what he had done to her? Did her breasts yearn for him? Was she wet and aching for his cock? Was she pleasuring herself while she thought of him? Good God, he was inflamed--consumed by the very thought of having her thinking of him.

  A soft purring sound came from deep in her throat and her neck arched back. Water splashed over the sides and he was gifted with the sight of her breasts, wet and shining in the water. When he thought he'd give in to his desires and go to her, he saw her hand, the lapis bracelet sparkling beneath a froth of bubbles glide along her breast. Her neck arched once more, and her mouth parted on a breath that made his cock stiffen further. Bloody hell, he'd never seen a sight more enticing.

  There was very little he hadn't done in his extensive sexual escapades, but watching a lady at her toilette had never been one of them. He shouldn't be intruding on her privacy, but he couldn't move, couldn't take his eyes off her hand and the bracelet he'd purchased for her. He knew she was rubbing her fingers along her nipples, hardening them but the bubbles concealed the most graphic vision of it. If one looked quickly one would think she was merely soaping her body and enjoying the water, but his gaze lingered, taking in how her dainty foot arched with each movement of her hand and how her lashes fluttered and her lips parted on silent moans and whimpers. He knew then that she was doing much more than bathing. She was thinking about him and what he'd done to her.

  The water splashed over the sides of the tub once again, nudging him into walking toward her. He'd already shed his clothing and his cock was hard and soaring to the ceiling. He stood behind her and without a word, he lifted her from the tub, ignoring her gasp of surprise. He brought her body, bubbles and all, against him. His mouth came down hard on hers and his tongue pushed past her lips, into her mouth, savoring every inch of her. She did not resist him. Instead she loosened the silk tie holding his hair, letting the length tumble about his shoulders while she threaded her fingers through it.

  She moaned when he reached for her thighs and parted them, lifting her so that she straddled his waist. Her soft belly rubbed against his hard one and his cock leapt, searching for the entrance to her body. He could take
her like this, he knew. She was weak and willing and would allow him to surge up inside her, but he pushed the inclination out of his mind. He had never been granted the privilege of seeing a lady soak in a tub, much less given an opportunity to join her. It was a thought that made his fevered brain burn hotter. He stepped into the tub, sinking down with her still astride him without missing one stroke of his tongue.

  "The floor," she murmured against his lips when his large frame sent half the water sloshing out of the sides of the tub.

  "To hell with the floor, madam," he groaned, nipping her lips and cupping his hand around her neck to bring her closer to him. "I'm certain it'll be much wetter before the night is through."

  He ran his hand up her back, soaping it with the sea sponge she had been using. She purred in appreciation, and he repeated the action while he kissed her. Over and over, his mouth ravished hers, with drugging kisses that dulled his thoughts and made him swell further against her belly.

  Growing restless, Jane rubbed her slick mound against him and he felt his cock leap against her. It was so hard to resist what she flagrantly offered. Breaking the contact with her mouth, he turned her so that her back was against him and his searching member was far from her reach.

  Picking up the sponge, he soaped her arms then breasts before slowly gliding down her silky middle. She purred and writhed, torturing him further with quick flashes of erect, coral nipples that bobbed up from the water. Gritting his teeth, he ignored them, focusing instead on the sponge that was slowly making its way to the brown curls shielding her secrets.

  He wanted to do more than please her tonight. The thought shocked him into stillness and Jane glanced up at him, her eyes worried.

  The feeling became deeper as he looked down at her. His heart raced and he felt altogether different than he ever had before.

  "Gavin?" she asked uneasily.

  "I want you, Jane," he said, hoping she understood how difficult it was for him to need anything from anyone. "I need to feel your heat. I want your smiles."

  She smiled and rose out of the water like a mermaid arising from sea foam. She was standing naked before him, bubbles sliding down her skin and she was trying bravely to bear his bold perusal. Jane, he wanted say, haven't you figured out how much I adore you? Do you not understand how beautiful you are, how your body inflames me? But he couldn't. He had never been able to utter the flowery words that tripped easily off other men's tongues. He hadn't the knack for sweet seduction and as he looked up the length of Jane's body, he wondered if that was what she had meant when she said Winterbourne gave her what she needed.

  "My lord?"

  He saw her arms slowly leave her sides, and he knew then exactly what she needed. He caught her hands in his and rose very slowly from the water. "Wait here."

  He left the tub and reached for one of the towels that Prakash had set on a nearby chair. He quickly dried himself, all the while feeling her dark eyes travelling the length of him. When he was finished, he discarded the towel onto the floor and reached for a dry one.

  He towelled her off quickly, ignoring her gasps when he reached between her legs and dried her thighs. He bit back the urge to capture her mouth in his and replace the towel with his hand. He was determined to do something that he had never done before--he was going to give Jane a glimpse inside his soul. He was going to offer her a piece of himself.

  Gavin picked her up as if she weighed nothing more than a feather and carried her inside the silk tent, where he put her down and told her to close her eyes. Her heart raced. She felt exceedingly vulnerable standing naked before him, not being able to see his expression. Was he looking at her? Scrutinizing her hips and thighs? Was he comparing her to Catriona Hamilton? Her eyes flew open and met Gavin's green gaze.

  "Have you ever looked at yourself, Jane?" He traced the back of his hand along her cheek.

  "Yes," she said with a grimace.

  "Have you ever looked at your body through a man's eyes?"

  Her eyes darted to the cushions that littered the floor. A silk coverlet awaited her, she only had to reach for it and hide behind it.

  "Come," he murmured when he saw the direction of her gaze. "I want to awaken you to your considerable charms, Jane."

  She allowed him to take her hand and pull her to the cushions. She sank to her knees as he came down behind her and trailed the tips of his fingers along her spine, making gooseflesh rise on her already sensitized body.

  "Such beautiful skin," he whispered before his lips caressed the nape of her neck. "So soft, so responsive to my touch." His lips moved lower and he placed a kiss between her shoulders. She was on already on fire for him, and yet she somehow knew it would be a long while yet before she felt Gavin inside her.

  His lips moved downward, and he pressed her forward so that she was leaning over her knees. His hands continued to skim the length of her back, up and down, studying her.

  "I like this, Jane, where your waist indents to your hips. I like sliding my hands along your curves, feeling the flare of your hips. I like your bottom very much, Jane."

  She felt her face turn hot and she was certain that every inch of her skin was flushed pink. His bold perusal was unsettling, and she gripped her knees tighter as if to protect herself from his far too seeing eyes.

  "Have you any idea how good your bottom feels?" he asked, as he traced her derriere with his hands. "It's so wonderfully soft beneath my fingers. You have the type of bottom, Jane that drives me to distraction." One of his fingers traced the cleft and she gasped in surprise. She had never been touched there. "I'd like to take you from behind, Jane." She felt him sliding his erection along her buttocks. "I'd like to see my fingers grasp your hips and watch your spine curve gracefully as you take me into your tight sheath. I want to hear you gasp that way when I am inside stroking you, Jane."

  He moved his phallus down her buttock then leaned closer and slid the tip along the petals of her sex. "I want to do it before a mirror, Jane. I want to see the look of pleasure on your lovely face. I want to see your lips part, your pink tongue dart out as you wet your lips as your passion escalates. I'd like to see your hands on your breasts as you play with them," she whimpered when she felt her nipples harden further and she squeezed her knees tighter. "I'd like to command you to do things, Jane. And I'd like to watch you do them. But not now, Jane. I am afraid that there is something more pressing I have to do. On your side," he commanded before helping her to assume the position he wanted. She was lying on her left side, her head propped in her hand and pillows scattered beneath her. He ran his hand down the length of her and she trembled. "You cannot hide your response to me, can you, my shundori?"

  She shivered again as he leaned closer and brushed his lips against her shoulder. "Why would I want to hide it?"

  "That is a game lovers play, Jane. But your passion runs much deeper than that, doesn't it?"

  "I like feeling your hands on me."

  "Where, Jane?" he asked, nuzzling her neck. "Where do you like to be touched? What do you want me to do? Tell me and I shall give it to you."

  She didn't want to tell him what she desired, she wanted him to do what pleased him. She wanted just to experience his desire for her.

  "I'd like to show you your beauty, Jane. Let me show it to you through my eyes."

  She swallowed hard. A rush of trepidation coursed through her and she shoved it aside. She wanted this. This had been what she desired from him all along. It might be the only time he offered her such a thing. Indeed, it might be the last time that they were together.

  "Close your eyes, Jane." She did, and he reached for her wrist. There was the tinkling of china, followed by something wet that dripped on her skin. "Now, Jane, you will not peek. You will let me study you for as long as I want. You will let me do whatever I want. Do you trust me, Jane?"

  She bit her lips and nodded. She could do this. She wanted to do this.

  "Very good, Jane, now rest your head on the pillow and lie very still...."
/>   Chapter Twelve

  Incense burned from the braziers, blanketing the tent in an exotic mix of sandalwood. Gavin waited until Jane was relaxed before he lowered his quill to the delicate skin of her inside wrist. She jumped when the red vegetable die met her skin. "Ssh," he whispered as he brushed the henna into familiar lines.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, stiffening once again.

  He looked up and saw that her eyes were tightly shut. "I am adorning you in my own way, Jane. I will show you what I have done when I am ready."

  "Can't you tell me?" she asked, swallowing deeply.

  He grinned. He felt her pulse quicken beneath his thumb, and he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. "I am choosing my favorite parts of your body, Jane. You may ponder that while you withstand my ministrations."

  When she quieted, he returned to his task, the ancient art form of Henna. Instead of the traditional designs that women used to decorate their hands and feet, he created his own. A piece of him, written to her, on her, in Sanskrit.

  She would never know what he said, she would think it was simply a design he placed on her most treasured body parts. He would be safe that way.

  He glanced up and saw that her face was at last relaxed, and her breathing was heavy as his gaze followed the rise and fall of coral tipped breasts. Soon, he consoled his raging lust, soon he would be making love to her.

  Ignoring his throbbing erection, he left her wrist and pondered where he would next write his words of desire. Her neck. The hollow behind her ear that his lips were drawn to, where he couldn't resist nuzzling.

  He dipped his quill again and dragged it across her skin. She shivered and moaned and he purposely brushed the feathers of the quill along her shoulder. "I adore the space beneath your ear, Jane. It smells of you and it fits my mouth perfectly. I can feel your heartbeat pulse against my lips. I know the instant your heart beats faster for me, Jane."