rcus remained only a few steps behind. And at the head of the stairs, when she turned left toward her bedchamber, he continued to accompany her.
When she was halfway down the corridor, Arabella came up short and gave him a look of exasperation. “What do you mean, following me this way, Marcus?”
“I am merely escorting you to your room.”
“I am entirely capable of finding my room on my own.”
“Of course you are, sweeting, but I want a moment of privacy with you.”
When he took her hand and drew her along the deserted corridor toward her door, Arabella tried nervously to pull back. “Our allotted time was more than fulfilled today.”
“I will borrow from tomorrow’s allotment.”
“You cannot enter my bedchamber, Marcus!”
“I don’t intend to.”
Although hardly reassured, Arabella ceased resisting, knowing it would do little good.
Guiding her into the adjacent music room, Marcus shut the door behind them and turned to face her. “This should prove adequate.”
“Adequate for what?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless.
“For your next lesson. We won’t be interrupted here.”
“But I don’t need another lesson.”
Those midnight blue eyes glinted down from beneath heavy brows. She had only to look into those compelling eyes, gleaming with wicked knowledge, to feel aroused.
“Yes, you do.”
Arabella felt her heart quicken alarmingly at the sensual smile that curved Marcus’s mouth as he advanced toward her. She retreated a step, holding up her hand to ward him off. “Aren’t you aware that when a lady says she doesn’t want a gentleman’s attentions, it is rude to disbelieve her?”
“Since I never attended your academy, I never learned that particular rule.” He caught her hand and halted her retreat. “I mean to educate your senses, sweet Arabella.” Raising her hand to his mouth, he pressed his lips to the tender middle of her palm. A soft gasp escaped her at the erotic feel.
“You did this yesterday,” she pointed out even more breathlessly.
“No. Yesterday I taught you about the power of touch. Today we’ll focus on the power of taste.”
“Taste?”
“Kissing, love.” His tongue flicked out to lightly dampen her palm, making her gasp again. “I won’t use my hands this time. I intend to teach you about kissing using just my mouth, to let you learn the taste of me.”
Her heart leapt with excitement. And even though she parted her lips to issue a protest, she couldn’t find her voice. The deplorable truth was, she wanted this lesson. She had no doubt that the tame pecks her betrothed had once given her would be nothing compared to Marcus’s devastating kisses.
When she didn’t reply, he offered her another enchanting smile. Still keeping hold of her hand, he turned Arabella and guided her until her back was pressed again to the wall. Then releasing his grasp, he bent his head.
His warm breath eddied and caressed her lips before he kissed her lightly. His mouth brushed sparks across the surface of hers, jolting her pulse into a wild rhythm, yet Arabella held herself still, fighting the overwhelming temptation to kiss him back.
Marcus lifted his head to study her. “No response? I see I will have to do better.”
His dark lashes lowering over his vivid eyes, he bent again, his mouth warm and vibrant as it settled on hers with slow, sure pressure. This time Arabella couldn’t keep still, not with all the incredible sensations spiraling through her.
“Open for me, Arabella,” Marcus murmured against her lips as she shivered.
His mouth coaxed and beguiled until she did as he bid. Immediately his tongue delved inside, exploring in a sensual invasion that dazed her with pleasure and completely stole her breath away.
It was a long, long moment before she realized he had broken off to ask her a question. “How does that taste?”