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dad51cc
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Vane held the reins of his desire in a grip of iron and refused to let his demons loose. Deep, primal instincts urged him on; experience held him back. She'd never yielded her mouth to any man, never shared her lips willingly. He knew that absolutely, sensed the truth in her untutored response, read it in her lack of guile. But she was rising to him, her passion, her desire, answering his call, sweet as the dew on a crisp spring morning, virginal as snow on an inaccessible peak. He could reach her- she would be his. But there was no need for any hurry. She was untouched, unused to the demands of a man's hands, a man's lips, much less a man's body; if he pressed too fast, she'd turn skittish and balk. And he'd have to work harder to bring her to his bed. Angling his head over hers, he kept every caress slow, every plundering stroke deliberate. Passion lay heavy, languid, almost somnolent between them; as he claimed every sweet inch of the softness she offered him, he laced the heady sensation into every caress, and let it sink into her senses. It would lie there, dormant, until next time he touched her, until he called it forth. He would let it rise by degrees, feed it, nurture it until it became the inescapable compulsion that would, in the end, bring her to him. He would savor her slowly, savor her slow surrender- all the more sweet because the end was never in doubt.
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kissing
passion
first-time
patience-and-vane
patience-debbington
vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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feaeb31
|
Patience looked at Vane and saw him dismount- by bringing his leg over the saddlebow and sliding to the ground, landing on his feet. She blinked, and he was by her side. His hands closed about her waist. She almost gasped when he lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed no more than a child. He didn't swing her down, but slowly lowered her to earth, setting her on her feet beside the mare. Less than a foot from him. He held her between his hands; she felt the long fingers flex about her, fingertips on either side of her spine, thumbs against her sensitive midriff. She felt... captured. Vulnerable. His face was a hard mask, his expression intent. Her eyes locked on his, Patience felt the cobbles beneath her feet, but her world continued to spin. It was he- the source of those peculiar sensations. She'd thought it must be, but she'd never felt such sensations before- and those streaking through her now were far stronger than those she'd felt earlier. It was his touch that did it- the touch of his eyes, the touch of his hands. He didn't even need to contact bare skin to make every square inch she possessed react.
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vane-cynster
sensations
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Stephanie Laurens |
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af51b08
|
Her gaze on Vane, Patience wished she could see his eyes. His expression was unreadable. Shoulders propped against the stone arch, arms folded cross his chest, he watched her like a hawk. A brooding, potentially menacing hawk. Or a wolf anticipating a meal.
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vane-cynster
predator
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Stephanie Laurens |
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e4f90ba
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"Hauling in a quick breath, she held it, stretched upward, shut her eyes, and fleetingly touched her lips to his. They were as hard as she'd imagined, very like sculpted marble. Sensation flared at the brief contact; her lips tingled, then throbbed. Patience blinked her eyes wide as she lowered her heels to earth. And refocused on his lips. She saw the ends curve upward, heard his low, wickedly teasing laugh. "Still not right. Here- let me show you." His hands came up to frame her face, her jaw, tilting her lips up as his descended. Of their own volition, her lids fell, then his lips touched hers. Patience couldn't have quelled the shudder that passed through her had her life depended on it. Stunned, poised to resist, she mentally paused. Strong, sure, his lips covered hers, moving slowly, languorously, as if savoring her taste, her texture. There was nothing threatening in the unhurried caress. Indeed, it was beguiling, luring her senses, focusing them on the practiced slide and glide of cool lips which seemed to instinctively know how to soothe the heat rising in hers. Hers throbbed; his pressed, caressed, as if drinking in her heat, stealing it from her. Patience felt her lips soften; his firmed in response. 'No, no, noo....' Some small part of her mind tried to warn her, but she was long past listening. This was new, novel- she'd never felt such sensations before. Never known such simple delight existed. Her head was whirling, but not unpleasantly. His lips still seemed hard, cool- Patience couldn't resist the temptation to return the pressure, to see if his lips would soften to hers. They didn't, they only became harder. The next instant, she felt a searing heat sweep over her lips. She stilled; the questing heat returned- with the tip of his tongue, he traced her lower lip. The contact lingered, an unspoken question. Patience wanted more. She parted her lips. His tongue slid between, slowly, with his customary assured arrogance, quite certain of his welcome, confident in his expertise." --
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patience-and-vane
patience-debbington
vane-cynster
sensations
passionate-kiss
lips
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Stephanie Laurens |
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0050f8d
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"Why did you stay?" He stilled; again, Patience felt the net draw tight, felt paralysis set in as his predator's senses focused on her. It was as if the world stopped spinning, as if some impenetrable shield closed about them, so that there was nothing but her and him- and whatever it was that held them. She searched his eyes, but couldn't read his thoughts beyond the fact that he was considering her, considering what to tell her. Then he lifted one hand. Patience caught her breath as he slid one finger beneath her chin; the sensitive skin came alive to his touch. He tipped her face up so that her eyes locked on his. He studied her, her eyes, her face, for one instant longer. "I stayed to help Minnie, to help Gerrard... and to get something I want." He uttered the words clearly, deliberately, without any affectation. His heavy lids lifted. Patience read the truth in his eyes. The force that held them beat in on her senses. A conquerer watched her through cool grey eyes."
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vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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9b5ca41
|
He'd finally found her alone and in the perfect location. The stillroom, tucked away on the ground floor of one wing, was private, and contained no daybed, chaise, or similar piece of furniture. In his present state, that was just as well. A gentleman should not, after all, go too far with the lady he intended making his wife before informing her of that fact. The absence of any of the customary aids to seduction should make coming to the point easy, after which they could retire to some place of greater comfort, so he could be comfortable again. The thought- of how he would ease the discomfort that had dogged him for the past days- wound his spring a notch tighter.
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vane-cynster
seduction
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Stephanie Laurens |
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4194d9e
|
"I'm renowned within the ton as being cool under fire- around you, I'm never cool. I'm heated- I seethe- I burn with desire. If I'm in the same room, all I can think about is heat- your heat- and how you'll feel around me." Patience felt the heat rise, a real force between them. "I've gained the reputation of being the soul of discretion- now look at me. I've seduced my godmother's niece- and been seduced by her. I share her bed openly, even under my godmother's roof." His lips twisted wryly. "So much for discretion." He drew a deep breath; his chest brushed her breasts. "And as for my vaunted, up-until-you 'legendary' control- the instant I'm inside you that evaporates like water on hot steel." What prompted her Patience never knew. His lips were so close- with her teeth, she nipped the lower. "I told you to let go- I won't break." The tension, pouring off him in waves, eased, just a little. He sighed, and rested his forehead on hers. "I don't like losing control- it's like losing myself- in you." She felt him gather himself, felt the tension swell and coalesce about them. "It's giving myself to you- so that I'm in your keeping." The words, low and gravelly, rolled through her; closing her eyes, she drew in a shallow breath. "And you don't like doing that." "I don't like it- but I crave it. I don't approve of it, yet I yearn for it." His words feathered her cheek, then his lips touched hers. "Do you understand? I haven't any choice." Patience felt his chest swell as he drew a deep breath. "I love you." She shivered, eyes shut tight, and felt the world shift about her. "Losing myself in you- giving my heart and soul into your keeping- is part of that." His lips brushed hers in an inexpressibly tender caress. "Trusting you is part of that. Telling you I love you is part of that." His lips touched hers; Patience didn't wait for more. She kissed him. Letting go of the post, she slid her hands up, framing his face, so she could let him know- let him feel- her response to all he'd said. He felt it, sensed it- and reacted; his arms locked tight about her. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the emotion that held them, that flowed so effortlessly between them. Silver and gold, it wound about them, investing each touch with its magic. Silver and gold, it shimmered about them, and quivered in their fractured breaths. It was immediate compulsion and future promise, heavenly delight and earthly pleasure. It was here and now- and forever."
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true-love
passion
patience-and-vane
vane-cynster
i-love-you
desire
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Stephanie Laurens |
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bed24b7
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Patience's mental imprecations reached new heights. Mrs. Chadwick had not lied- Vane Cynster was the very epitome of an elegant gentleman. His hair, burnished chestnut several shades darker than her own, glowed softly in the candlelight, wave upon elegant wave sitting perfectly about his head. Even across the room, the strength of his features registered; clear-cut, hard-edged, forehead, nose, jaw, and cheeks appeared sculpted out of rock. Only his lips, long and thin with just a hint of humor to relieve their austerity, and the innate intelligence and, yes, wickedness, that lit his grey eyes, gave any hint of mere mortal personality- all else, including, Patience grudgingly acknowledged, his long, lean body, belonged to a god.
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physical-beauty
vane-cynster
male-beauty
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Stephanie Laurens |
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804e31a
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"Assault!" he croaked. "The battery might yet follow." The warning- entirely unnecessary from Patience's perspective- came from Vane. One look at his face, as hard as granite and equally unyielding, would have informed any sane person of that fact."
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vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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a2286a9
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He'd taken off his coat; in form-fitting waistcoat and soft white shirt, he looked, if anything, even larger, more physically powerful, than before.
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physical-beauty
vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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b164751
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"Is 'Vane' Vane's real name?" Minnie chuckled evilly. "Spencer Archibald- and if you dare call him that to his face, you'll be braver than any other in the 'ton.' Only his mother can still do so with impunity. He's been known as Vane since before he went to Eton. Devil named him- said he always knew which way the wind was blowing and what was in the breeze."
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vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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204c4c9
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"Vane strolled in. The smile on his face, curving those fascinating lips, was more than enough to make Patience inwardly swear that she would not, not for anything, give him the pleasure of knowing how flustered she felt. "What's the time?" Nonchalance laced her tones. "Lunchtime," replied the wolf. Feeling very like Red Riding Hood, Patience smothered a feigned yawn, then held up her arms and waved him closer. "You may carry me down then." Vane's smile deepened. With elegant ease, he lifted her into his arms."
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wolfish
vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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bd58eec
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"Steel shards, his eyes held hers. Breathless, Patience blinked up at him. His face was hard, a warrior's mask. Waves of anger and aggression lapped about her. "When it comes to distraction," he informed her through clenched teeth, "nothing in this world could top you." His words were invested with meaning- a meaning she didn't understand."
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vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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5c6f18a
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Vane watched her reaction from under heavy lids, watched flaring passion light her eyes. Sparks of pure gold flashed in the hazel depths as he gently kneaded, then sent his fingers gliding over her silken skin. He knew he should kiss her, distract her, from what came next- but the compulsion to witness, to know her reaction as she learned what he would do, as he filled his senses with her, waxed strong.
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patience-debbington
vane-cynster
sensations
|
Stephanie Laurens |
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1dcffd5
|
He wanted her- all of her. Not just the physical her, but her devotion, her love, her heart- all the essential her, the tangible intangible of her being, her self. He wanted it all- and he wasn't going to be satisfied with anything less. He knew why he wanted her, too. Why she was different. But he wasn't going to think about that. She was his. He'd known it the instant he'd held her in his arms, that first evening with the storm lowering about them. She'd fitted- and he'd known, instinctively, immediately, at some level deeper than his bones. He hadn't come by his name by accident; he had a gift for recognizing what scent was on the breeze. An instinctive hunter, he responded to shifts in the mood, the atmosphere, taking advantage of whatever current was flowing without a conscious thought. He'd known from the first just what was in the wind- known from the instant he'd held Patience Debbington in his arms.
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vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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2fad4b0
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"What's your enterprise of choice?" Vane grinned. "Hops." Patience blinked. "Hops?" "A vital ingredient used to flavor and clarify beers. I own Pembury Manor, an estate near Tunbridge in Kent." "And you grow hops?" Vane's smile teased. "As well as apples, pears, cherries, and cob nuts." Drawing back in her saddle, Patience stared at him. "You're a farmer!" One brown brow rose. "Among other things." Recognizing the glint in his eyes, she swallowed a humph."
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farmer
hops
vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |
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ccb8d38
|
"So saying, she managed to straighten- which left her facing the house, looking directly at the blank bow windows of the downstairs parlor. With the storm darkening the skies, the windows were reflective. They reflected the image of a man standing directly behind her. With a gasp, Patience whirled. Her gaze collided with the man's- his eyes were hard, crystalline gray, pale in the weak light. They were focused, intently, on her, their expression one she couldn't fathom. He stood no more than three feet away, large, elegant and oddly forbidding. In the instant her brain registered those facts, Patience felt her heels sink, and sink- into the soft soil of the flower bed. The edge crumbled beneath her feet. Her eyes flew wide- her lips formed a helpless "Oh." Arms flailing, she started to topple back- The man reacted so swiftly his movement was a blur- he gripped her upper arms and hauled her forward. She landed against him, breast to chest, hips to hard thighs. The breath was knocked out of her, leaving her gasping, mentally as well as physically. Hard hands held her upright, long fingers iron shackles about her arms. His chest was a wall of rock against her breasts; the rest of his body, the long thighs that held them braced, felt as resilient as tensile steel. She was helpless. Utterly, completely, and absolutely helpless. Patience looked up and met the stranger's hooded gaze. As she watched, his grey eyes darkened. The expression they contained- intensely concentrated- sent a most peculiar thrill through her. She blinked; her gaze fell- to the man's lips. Long, thin yet beautifully proportioned, they'd been sculpted with a view to fascination. They certainly fascinated her; she couldn't drag her gaze away. The mesmerizing contours shifted, almost imperceptibly softening; her own lips tingled. She swallowed, and dragged in a desperately needed breath. Her breasts rose, shifting against the stranger's coat, pressing more definitely against his chest. Sensation streaked through her, from unexpectedly tight nipples all the way to her toes. She caught another breath and tensed- but couldn't stop the quiver that raced through her. The stranger's lips thinned; the austere planes of his face hardened. His fingers tightened about her arms. To Patience's stunned amazement, he lifted her- easily- and carefully set her down two feet away."
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patience-and-vane
vane-cynster
physical-attraction
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Stephanie Laurens |
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96e218d
|
Delicate, hauntingly uncertain music floated out of the house. Vane heard it as he walked up from the stables. The lilting strains reached him, then wrapped about him, about his mind, sinking into his senses. They were a siren's song- and he knew precisely who was singing. Halting on the graveled drive before the stable arch, he listened to the moody air. It drew him- he could feel the tug as if it was physical. The music spoke- of need, of restless frustration, of underlying rebellion.
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sirens-song
vane-cynster
piano
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Stephanie Laurens |
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d8a9203
|
She'd never imagined such sensations existed; she could barely believe they were real. Yet the caresses continued, thrilling her, heating her- she had to wonder what else she didn't know. What else she had yet to experience. With every ounce of expertise at his command, Vane deliberately drew her deeper. Her total lack of resistance would have made him wonder, if he hadn't earlier seen this curiosity, the calm calculated intention in her eyes. She was willing, even eager- the knowledge stirred his passions powerfully. He held them in check, aware that she was no wanton, that she'd never been down this road before- and that, despite her guileless confidence, her openness- her implicit trust was a fragile thing which could all too easily be shattered by overly aggressive loving. She was naive, innocent- she needed to be loved tenderly, coaxed to passion gently, savored slowly. As he was savoring her now, the softness of her mouth his to enjoy, her breast firm under his fondling hand. Her innocence was refreshing- heady, addictive, entrancing.
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patience-and-vane
patience-debbington
savoring
vane-cynster
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Stephanie Laurens |