Synton’s ministrations slowed to languid strokes, not stopping until the final wave broke, leaving Camilla feeling boneless and spent. She collapsed back, breathing heavily.
“That…” Was a religious experience. If he was the Lord of Syn, she’d happily become the worst sinner there was.
He kissed her inner thigh one last time, then gently set her trembling legs down.
She felt the heat of him leave. His jacket rustled, the air stirred. Then all was quiet.
He couldn’t have…
Camilla sat up, ripped off the blindfold, and blinked. The room was empty. She stared around her, emotions whirling from one extreme to the next.
There was no way he’d done
“Synton,” she hissed, furious.
And unless she’d been in some suspended stupor from his talented mouth, he’d moved faster than anyone should be able to.
Still, he didn’t return.
The immeasurable ass had in fact given her an orgasm to end all orgasms, then left.
She stared at the door, body still trembling from the aftershocks, wondering how Synton could go from such burning passion to cold indifference that swiftly.
If he was playing a game with her, he would regret it.
Camilla decided right then that instead of showing him how angry she was, she, too, could play. She’d adopt his mask of indifference. Let him be humbled too.
She tossed herself back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, rethinking the whole encounter. It took far longer to get her annoyance under control than she cared to admit. But once she did, she puzzled his behavior out more clearly.
The blindfold.
The mention of only tonight.
The abrupt departure.
In some way, she was certain, he’d bared himself more than she had.
There was something he desperately didn’t want her to see, which only made her more curious to unravel the mystery of his past. Forbidden things always intrigued her.
And Lord Synton, mercurial moods, gruffness and all, was
THE PAINT, CANVAS, and brushes are all here in the studio,” Envy said by way of greeting, keeping his back purposefully to the artist he’d summoned at first light.
He’d left the Edwardses’ early that morning, also sending a message of apology for missing the celebratory betrothal breakfast.
“I expect you’ll work swiftly, Miss Antonius.”
He turned then, surprised that Camilla did not betray any of her feelings upon entry. It wasn’t like her to be so… quiet.
Envy had been certain she’d be furious that he’d left without so much as a goodbye. Or predictably lovestruck.
She was neither.
Her attention simply swept around the room, passing over him like he was one more canvas to catalogue. She gave no indication that Envy had been on his knees, nestled between her thighs, a few short hours before.
He bristled.
“Should you require anything else, Alexei will see to it.”
“Thank you, Lord Synton,” she said at last. “If you’ll have him bring a cup of tea, that will be all.”
Envy’s brows hit his hairline. Did she take him for a servant now?
“What of scones and clotted cream? Shall he bring some of those as well?”
“Unnecessary, but thank you for being thoughtful.”
Camilla ignored the obvious sarcasm in his tone, striding over to the wooden stool and easel, running a hand lovingly across the polished wooden grain before hoisting up her chosen canvas.
She’d dressed in a charcoal gown today, the color deep and rich in pigment. A line of pearls ran up the sleeves from her wrists to her forearms, and a second line traveled along the front of her bodice from neck to navel.
Envy wanted to pin her hands above her head and rip the pretty pearls off with his teeth.
“You may leave now,” Camilla said over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought. As if she’d forgotten he was there. “I work better alone.”
Envy stared after her.
Camilla did not drink at the party last night, so it wasn’t as if she’d been in some drunken stupor. He was positive she remembered coming all over his tongue, sweet and warm like honey. Was she
Certainly, last night had been shocking. But Camilla had survived the crisis of Lord Garrey and moved on. Had decided she wished to live, to celebrate life.
He’d found that highly attractive.
He hardened just recalling her soft moans, her rapture pure and free as she fully submitted to the pleasure he’d given her.
She’d bitten her lip to keep anyone from hearing, and thrashed across those sheets, tangling them up just as he’d wanted her legs to be tangled with his when he climbed on top of her.
When she’d started undulating her hips, directing him to the exact place she wanted him, it took everything in him not to sink his cock into her wet heat the way they’d both craved him to. Camilla was a surprisingly vivacious lover and he’d only had one small taste.
His rule of only bedding someone once typically included one night of lust.
Which usually included every possible position, every act of pleasure. Then it made sense that their time together was over forever.
