The Undoing of Daisy Edwards (A Time for Scandal) Read Free Page A

him. That particular twisting, wrenching kind of shudder that comes from low inside you. Raw was exactly what I wanted, and I was pretty sure raw was what I would get from Dominic Harrington.
    Maybe it was shameless of me. Calculating, even. Maybe I was still under the influence of that stuff. I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. It was as if something inside me had been caged and I’d opened the door just a tiny bit, but already it was pacing, anticipating. I could have shut it back up again at that point. I’m pretty sure I could have. But I didn’t. I wanted this. I
needed
it. But at the same, I was scared I wouldn’t have the courage to go through with it. So I did what I’ve always done—I played it. I imagined myself as Poppy’s friend Theda Bara, and quite deliberately I let out my own version of the Vamp.
    I wriggled free of Dominic and got to my feet. The fastenings on my Lanvin gown were at the side. I undid them and let the whole thing slither to the ground. He was watching me. He couldn’t take his eyes off me. Daisy would have been blushing by now, but it wasn’t Daisy standing here in her stockings and her cream silk underwear. I leaned back over the bed to unfasten his shirt, but he caught me, rolling me down beside him onto my back. And then he kissed me again, and it was what I wanted. Exactly what I wanted. Raw. Rough. Hot.
    He slid his leg between mine. I could feel the weight of his chest pressing against me. He still had his shirt and trousers on. I tore at the shirt, kissing him back just as roughly as he was kissing me. His tongue slid into my mouth. I touched mine to his. It was a shock. A good one. Like being jolted into life. Our mouths opened. Our kisses were wild. It was like fighting. Not anything like before. Not anything like
anything
, actually.
    My Vamp would not just lie back or follow his lead as Daisy had done with Anthony, so I pushed Dominic over onto his back and ripped his shirt free of the buttons. He pulled me on top of him and kissed me again. I was astride him, my legs either side of him, and I felt his solid body, packed hard with muscle, under me. His chest, covered in a fuzz of dark brown hair, rose and fell fast, making his stomach ripple. He pulled the flimsy straps of my camisole down over my shoulders and my arms. My nipples were already hard when he cupped my breasts in his hands, already aching when he pulled me towards him and took one in his mouth and sucked.
    Flooded. That’s how I felt. Flooded. But it wasn’t enough. ‘Harder,’ I said, and my voice sounded strange. Harsh. Guttural. He was circling my other nipple with his thumb. I felt as if he were tightening a wire inside me. ‘Harder,’ I said again. I don’t know why.
    I didn’t want him to stop, but I didn’t want to surrender, either. I was—I was afraid. I wasn’t ready. I needed to take him with me. If I didn’t take him with me, it would be too—it wouldn’t be right. I had to fight. I think that was it. If I submitted, that’s all I’d be doing—submitting. Giving. Not taking. And I needed to take; I couldn’t give in. It sounds—I don’t care how it sounds, that’s how it was.
    So I wriggled down, my mouth on his body. His throat. His chest. His belly. His skin was hot. He tasted salty. Up and down his chest went, in and out the muscles on his belly went, rippling like water on hard-packed sand. Down I went, kissing, licking, nipping, kissing, until I reached the top of his trousers. And then I fumbled with the fastenings. Just not used to them. He laughed, and his voice sounded strange, too. That guttural sound. Just like mine. And he undid his trousers and pulled them off, his underwear, too, and I couldn’t help staring, fascinated, though I tried to pretend I wasn’t. I wasn’t really so sure of myself here, because when Anthony and I had—but no, I wouldn’t think of Anthony.
    Vamp. I was a Vamp. I would not lose control. Not yet. I would not hesitate, because