Nicole Jordan - The Seduction

She was shocked when she felt the hard, smooth flesh of his erection brush against her buttocks, but she was more shocked by the wild excitement that flared through her when she realized his intent. She wanted this, wanted him to take her this way, from behind.

She tensed, but Damien’s voice came soft and hoarse in her ear. “Easy, sweet.”

In mute helplessness Vanessa braced herself against the wall.

With unhurried grace he parted her thighs and gripped his iron-hard shaft, then eased its silken head into the sleek, hot passage of her womanhood.

“Open to me,” he ordered.

She moaned with pleasure as he thrust deep into her quivering flesh, twisting restlessly as he began to move inside her.

In response he captured her writhing hips, holding her still to prevent escape. Yet she had no desire to escape. With hypnotic motion his loins caressed hers, slow and sure, sheathing, drawing away, until it became sweet, ecstatic torture.

Throbbing with heat, burning with the need to feel him driving deep into her, Vanessa thrust wildly back against him, impaling herself on his magnificent hardness. With each rocking jolt, her ragged breaths came faster. Her breasts heaved as he sweetly ravished her, forcing her upward with each powerful surge, plunging his full, great length inside her.

She was a mass of frenzied sensation… flame-hot with desire… Then, suddenly, in the hammering wildness, the spasms broke over her, intense waves of pleasure that engulfed her entire body and caught Damien in their wake. She heard his low groans, felt him shake with the strength of his own fulfillment as her cries echoed through the room.

The explosive passion left her dazed and exhausted. Moments later he withdrew from her, leaving Vanessa leaning weakly against the wall, missing his warmth.

“A credible effort, sweeting,” he said calmly, his voice holding only an edge of hoarseness as he rebuttoned his breeches. “With a little more practice, you should be quite proficient.”

The cool observation brought cruel memory rushing back.

Vanessa shivered, her heart aching with a sensation akin to despair. Damien had done precisely as she had asked, showing her how to use her body to fulfill his insatiable carnal need. And in so doing, he had shattered any illusion of intimacy between them. His passion had been nothing more than an exercise for him, the discharging of a duty.

Vanessa felt the chill wrap around her nakedness.

She had never felt so sated, so replete, in all her life.

Or so cold.

It was a painful lesson, but one Vanessa was determined to learn: emotions had no place in her relationship with the wicked Lord Sin. He had agreed to teach her how to win a wealthy protector, and she had to be content with that if she had any hope of quelling the desperate yearnings he aroused in her so effortlessly.

He proved a superb tutor. During her time at Rosewood she had experienced nights of exquisite passion, filled with sensual delight, but now there were afternoons and mornings as well. When his sister was occupied with massages or baths, Damien gave Vanessa lessons in desire.

He educated her on the finer points of how to be a proper mistress. How to warm a brandy and offer it to her lover. How best to use perfumed scents on secret places on her body. How to lounge in disheveled majesty at her dressing table as she made her toilet.

More notably, he schooled her in the sexual arts-of dalliance, of seduction, of inflaming a man’s senses and satisfying his carnal lusts.

“Lovemaking is an art, and you are the artist,” Damien observed seriously, initiating his instruction.

“I thought you said it was a game.”

He flashed a smile. “Don’t be impertinent. Now pay close attention…”

He taught her how to arouse desire in a man, how to break him into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Your body conveys a sexual language all its own. The way you move, the way you respond to a caress, can make a man feel like a king or the lowest of beggars. When you touch a man, give the impression that you enjoy it. Let your eyes soften, give a shiver, a whisper of pleasure. And when he touches you, you must seem eager, even hungry…”

His expertise always startled her; his practiced, prolonged methods of arousal left her gasping. He was a master magician who ignited the flames of her darkest desires.

Vanessa spent the days that followed wavering between fantasy and awareness. When Damien looked at her with his heated silver eyes, when she experienced the scorching intensity of his passion, she could almost believe his desire for her was real. Yet she knew better than to indulge in foolish dreams.

One of his chief aims was to make her comfortable with the male body. To that end, he frequently required her to undress him slowly, focusing on the sensuality of the exercise. Then he would lie back on the chaise lounge, inviting her to touch and explore him.

The first time his sheer brazenness shocked Vanessa a little, but enthralled her as well. Entirely nude, he reclined on the chaise like some pagan god. Vanessa drew a sharp breath at the magnificent splendor of his form, all rippling male desire, his enormous arousal erect and throbbing.

His smile was burning and lazy as he regarded her from under long, dark lashes. Still holding her gaze, he reached down to take his swollen cock in his hand. The gesture was bold and sexual and altogether tantalizing.

“Do I meet with your approval, sweeting?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her mouth dry with excitement.

“Come here and show me.”

Delight tingled through her every nerve as she moved to sit beside him.

Damien waited giving her no help.

With fascination, she smoothed her hands up his torso, caressing the hard-muscled chest, exploring the sculpted perfection of his body, so lithe and sleek and graceful. Then she let her hands move lower to the sinewed thighs. Then, finally, to his full erection, long and hard and ready.

She felt a surge of lust flow through her at the feel of him, remembering the exquisite pleasure he had brought her. Her fingers brushed the engorged crest, circling the smooth, swollen head, stroking the velvet-sheathed hardness. Then she let her touch glide downward to lightly grasp the enormous shaft, marveling at the thick, surging length, so strong and pulsing with life.

Damien’s gaze turned to smoke while his breathing sharpened. “Feel how your touch makes me tremble.”

He made her tremble as well. Vanessa quivered, need for him pulsing between her thighs.

“I can’t wait,” she whispered, her voice both a plea and an imperative.

“Then don’t,” he replied his smile wicked with sensuality.

She was still fully clothed, but she raised the skirts of her morning gown and moved to sit astride him. Balancing herself on her knees, she slowly impaled herself, giving a whimper of pleasure as her yielding flesh absorbed him.

He aided her then by raising his hips a tantalizing degree.

Vanessa gasped.

“How deep do you want me inside you?” he asked provocatively as he thrust upward another inch.

“Deeper… please…”

Damien obliged, and it was more than she could bear. The inflammatory pleasure spread through her body, instant and all-consuming, and she began to move helplessly, grinding her sex against him.

When she pleaded with him for release, he finally took pity on her and caught her gyrating hips, holding her still and matching each silken thrust to her breathless rhythm. Vanessa answered with all the vigor in her trembling body.

She came almost at once. With a low groan, she fell forward on top of him, shoving her face against his warm shoulder to bury her burgeoning scream.

When eventually she recovered her dazed senses, she found herself draped over him languorously, while he was still huge and hard inside her.

Damien’s amused voice sounded in her ear. “Your eagerness is highly flattering, sweeting, but I see our next lesson should be on the art of control.”

Those sessions left her breathless and trembling, and made her task of protecting herself all the more difficult. To her dismay, Vanessa felt herself falling further under Damien’s sinfully erotic spell. He was like a potent drug, obsessing her senses and addicting her to his touch. She found herself struggling desperately against her newly awakened desires and the enticing wickedness of his caresses.

Far more dangerous, though, were the powerful emotions he aroused in her. She feared the tenderness most. There were times during the quiet, intimate moments after carnal lust had been spent when it was hard for her to remember that their relationship was strictly professional. Yet she knew that if she hoped to shield her heart, she would have to dissociate herself from any and all feelings for him.

He spoke to her about practical matters as well as sexual ones-things she would need to know if she were to spend her future gracing the beds of rakes. He described what would be expected of her outside the bedroom, in the glittering salons and fashionable ballrooms of London. He advised her on the considerations she could expect in the way of jewelry and clothing, carriages and horses, houses and furnishings. He emphasized the importance of pretending an avid interest in her male companions, smiling at inane conversations, flirting with fops enamored with their own self-consequence, hanging on their every word, no matter how boring a spirited, intelligent woman might find them. He told her how to capitalize on the natural talents she possessed.