Viscount of Vice by Shana Galen Read Free Book Online

muddling his head outside that assembly room where they’d first kissed, and now he felt it again.
    He could not say what it was. He had kissed many women—more than he cared to count—and yet he had never felt so affected by a kiss. Never felt as though he could not get enough of the woman in his arms. She was no seductress. Her kisses were unpracticed and tentative. He could teach her so much. He would have, if he were not saying good-bye, but for the moment he reveled in those novice kisses, feeling once again like a youth deep in the first flush of arousal.
    He was going to put her aside. In only a moment, he would break the kiss and walk away, but the thought made him pull her hard against him and deepen the kiss. He could not remember ever wanting a woman so much, wanting to strip her clothes off, piece by tantalizing piece, kissing every inch of bared flesh slowly until he’d explored every inch of her. And then he would lay her down and worship her slowly, so very slowly, so as to prolong their pleasure until it became the most exquisite torture.
    His chest tightened with desire, with the need slamming through him, and he forced his hands to his sides and gently pulled back. He had to stop now or, God help him, he did not know if he would ever be able to leave her. She wobbled, and he put a hand on her elbow to steady her. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes hazy with desire. He wondered what thoughts turned ’round in her mind. Did she want him inside her as much as he wanted to take her? Did she have enough experience to think of such a thing?
    Disgusted with himself, he released her elbow and stepped back.
    Her hand caught his sleeve. “Do not stop.”
    He shook his head. “Do you know what you are saying?”
    â€œYes. Stay with me tonight. Take me”—she gestured vaguely to the city beyond the walls of the house—“somewhere we can be together.”
    He stared at her. “Lady Emma—”
    â€œNo. I’m just Emma. I’m just a woman, and I want you, Flynn.”
    The world had definitely tilted. “Your brother would murder me if I even dared to consider—”
    â€œAndrew will never know.” She waved a hand.
    He caught her hand. “No.”
    â€œWhy?” She stepped closer, her dark eyes bright with challenge. Was she really arguing with him? “Because I am a virgin? Must I give myself to someone else before you will have me?”
    â€œEmma!” The thought of her with another man made his chest tight and his fists clench. She was not his, but by God, he would not think of her with someone else.
    â€œWhat must I do to make you want me?” she asked, her expression intent. He could all but picture her as a student, with quill poised above paper, ready to take notes.
    He shook his head. If only she knew how much he wanted her, how desperately.
    â€œYou think I’m a child,” she said. “You think I do not know what I am saying, but I do know. I’ve known ever since we first met, in the drawing room at Ravenscroft Castle. You entered the room, and I knew. I knew I loved you before I even knew your name. I know you felt something too.”
    He wanted to deny it, but he could not. Even now he could remember strolling into the drawing room, all swagger and cockiness. He’d been drinking in the carriage to assuage the boredom from the long trip, but he was by no means drunk. He’d been looking forward to the duke’s wedding, and the lovely ladies into whose beds he might fall.
    And then he’d seen her. She’d been standing near the hearth, wearing a white gown with small yellow flowers. It was a child’s gown, and she was that age between childhood and womanhood, but he’d not been able to stop his gaze from settling on her. He’d not been able to stop the rushing in his ears when their eyes met. He had not said anything to her other than the customary