Virginia Henley - Unmasked

by Virginia Henley

  Velvet's fury dissolved. She looked at his powerful naked muscles and blushed. "I think I gave ample proof of that." She curled her toes into the plush car­pet. "I feel rather foolish, accusing you of trespassing when I am the one doing it."

  He grinned. "I forgive you your trespasses."

  Roehampton can be mine. All I have to do is marry him. Careful, Velvet... he hasn't asked you yet. Though she tried to banish them, Bess Hardwick's words insinu­ated themselves into her thoughts: The most compelling reason to marry is property; the second is pregnancy. Love takes a distant third place.

  "I intended to return to London tonight, since it's so close, but once I learned you were here, wild horses couldn't drag me away. I long to play indulgent host, Velvet. Will you dine with me up here tonight, where we can banish the world?"

  She caught her breath. She who hesitates is lost. Cast the die quickly. "I should like it above all things," she conceded.

  He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, bestowing a gallant kiss. His eyes held a promise of what was to come.

  Dear God, was it only last night that I wondered if I could tempt Greysteel into making love to me? "Until later, then."

  Back in her room, Velvet flung open her wardrobe door and studied the dresses she'd brought. "It's true, Emma. Lord Montgomery is the new owner of Roehampton."

  "So I take it you are going to wed him?"

  "Since we are betrothed, we are expected to marry."

  Emma rolled her eyes. She had guessed that Velvet couldn't resist the dark, dominant noble for long, de­spite her protests.

  "Greysteel invited me to dine privately with him tonight. I want to wear my most flattering gown."

  "Did you go in the lake in your petticoat? I found it wringing-wet. It's the only one you brought."

  "I'll manage without," Velvet said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to go without underclothes. Yet her cheeks turned pink at the conse­quences she imagined.

  She deliberately plucked her most tempting dress from the wardrobe. It was a delicate lavender silk cre­ation. Greysteel is planning to seduce me tonight, but God help him, he is the one who will be seduced. I have a flagrant fondness for Roehampton!

  Chapter 8

  Greysteel carried the dinner tray upstairs, which Mrs. Clegg had loaded down with mouthwatering food. Buttered marrow, glazed parsnips and crisp roasted potatoes accompanied a plump pheasant with chestnut dressing. The cook also had made them a tri­fle of light sponge cake, fruit, custard and thick clotted cream. A bottle of golden Canary wine was tucked be­neath his arm.

  He set all down on a small table he had carried up to his chamber earlier along with a pair of carved arm­chairs. Then he tapped on Velvet's door. "Dinner is here. Are you hungry?"

  Velvet licked lips gone suddenly dry and studied her reflection in the mirror with an anxious eye. With­out the fullness of a petticoat, the lavender silk out­lined the contours of her body enticingly. She feared that she looked decidedly bold, yet knew it excited her to be daring. Heeding Bess's advice, she had pur­posely left her hair uncovered in a deliberate attempt to lure Greysteel to touch it. A man lusts to taste that which he has touched. One taste and he won't be satisfied until he has devoured you whole!

  She opened the door and smiled. "Yes, I'm hungry. Are you?"

  His glance roamed over her possessively. "Raven­ous."

  "The aroma of Bertha's food is tantalizing. I can't wait."

  "Anticipation whets the appetite, and patience is a virtue."

  "I have virtue aplenty, though I doubt you can claim any." She threw him a teasing look. "Lead on and I shall follow."

  They were playing with words, choosing those that added titillation to the intimacy of dining alone to­gether in his bedchamber. He led her inside, closed the door and watched as she moved to the fire.

  "Your shirt dried quickly."

  "You sound regretful. I can remove it, if you like."

  She turned to face him. "Conceited devil." She watched avidly as his fingers undid the buttons. "Bold with it too."

  As she stood before the fire, he could see the outline of her slender curves through the delicate silk. "And who's the bold little wench who left off her petticoat?"

  "Blame yourself. You declared it a pity that females wear more garments than males. I'm attempting to be fair."

  "I'll gladly accept the blame for your dishabille if it banishes your guilt tonight, Velvet. Come, let us eat." He pulled out a carved chair for her. "If I have my way, and I usually do, the food will be the prelude to a memorable encounter we will remember always."

  She walked slowly to the chair he held. The way his intense grey eyes studied her made her feel beautiful. When she sat down he bent and dropped a kiss on top of her head, then caressed her hair with his hand. A small frisson of delight ran down her back, making her shiver. The first touch of many!

  Greysteel took the chair opposite, lifted the silver cover and began to carve the game bird. He took her plate, served her with the choicest pieces, then handed it back and allowed her to choose the rest for herself.

  Her first taste brought a rapturous look to her face. "We are so lucky to have such delicious food. Fare like this was unavailable when we lived in exile at Saint-Germain."

  "I don't like to think of you being deprived, Velvet."

  "Knowing we were sacrificing for Charles made it bearable. What about you? I warrant army fare was nothing like this."

  "We seldom dined on pheasant stuffed with chest­nuts," he admitted, but did not elaborate on how diffi­cult it had been to feed his men. Watching Velvet eat gave him great pleasure. She had such dainty habits, yet at the same time relished her food with great de­light. He poured two glasses of golden wine and felt her hand brush against his when she took one from him. He smiled into her eyes and offered a toast. "May you have everything you desire, tonight and always."

  After a few sips, she set it down and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. His imagination soared, men­tally arousing him. When she dipped her finger into her wine and licked it, he became physically aroused. Her gestures inflame my senses.

  They finished the main course and she helped herself to the trifle, relishing every mouthful. When Greysteel didn't take any, she said, "I love sweet desserts. Aren't you tempted?"

  "Tempted beyond endurance," he acknowledged. He arose from his chair and moved around the table, and then he scooped her up and slid beneath her, so that she was sitting in his lap.

  "That was rather impulsive of you," she said breathlessly.

  "Not really. I planned the maneuver to coincide with dessert, knowing you would be distracted."

  "Your courtship resembles a military campaign, Captain. You have besieged my defenses from the be­ginning."

  "Hoping to avoid a battle," he said softly. "Once I have disarmed you, you will realize that resistance is futile."

  She dipped her finger into the trifle dish and lifted the cream to his lips in blatant temptation. He suc­cumbed to the bait and licked it. "I believe you just surrendered. The roles of captor and captive are now reversed." She wriggled her bottom into a more provocative position, which made his arousal throb, and slipped her hands inside his unbuttoned shirt.

  "Would you plunder a defenseless prisoner?" he growled.

  "Defenseless?" Her hands stroked the slabs of mus­cle on his hard chest. "I warrant you have a weapon hidden belowstairs." Velvet licked her lips and her fin­gertips circled his nipples.

  He lowered his mouth until it was a mere fraction from hers. "You are the rudest little girl I have ever encountered." His lust ticked up a notch when she looked inordinately pleased.

  His lingering, seductive kiss stirred her desire. She could feel the heat of his body seep through the fine silk that covered her thighs, and thrilled with anticipa­tion at what was to come. Greysteel left her in no doubt that tonight he would make her a woman. As he rose from the table, she slipped her arms about his neck. She clung to him, h
earing the thud of his heart and deeply inhaling the intoxicating scent of his male skin.

  He let her slide down his body until her feet touched the rug before the fire. He removed his shirt, tossed it aside, then went down on his knees and pulled her down before him. He threaded his fingers through her curls. "The firelight turns your hair to molten flame." He kissed her hungrily, then gently pushed her back so that she reclined before him.

  She gasped as his hand slid beneath the hem of her gown and folded it back to reveal her stockings. Then his hand inched its way up her leg to the intimate ex­panse of skin above her garter. His fingers unfastened the garter and he slowly drew off her stocking. "Have you any idea how long I've wanted to do this?" He raised her bare foot to his mouth and trailed kisses across her dainty arch.

  It was such a pretty gesture that Velvet felt as if her insides were melting. She watched his bold hand slide up her other leg and when he removed her stocking, she felt the heat of the fire warming her bared skin. The sensation of heated flesh was arousing and her woman's scent was sensual.

  He stretched his long length beside her and cupped one of her breasts with his palm. The heat from his hand was scalding through the fine silk and she won­dered what it would feel like without the impediment. As if he could read her mind, he unfastened her gown and slipped it from her shoulders, baring her lush breasts to his avid gaze and eager touch. His palm was rough, but amazingly this added to her pleasure. Her ruched nipples thrust up like tiny spears, luring his mouth to taste where his fingers had played. The hot sliding friction of his tongue sent threads of desire shooting down through her belly, and then lower into her woman's center.

  Greysteel raised his head and looked into her eyes to gauge the effect of his wooing. Their emerald color had deepened to jade and they had become slumber­ous. He took possession of her mouth in a primal kiss that made her heart beat wildly. His hand stole be­neath her skirt and his fingers stroked the soft flesh on the insides of her thighs. "Your skin feels like warm silk. I am insatiably curious. Are the curls on your mons red gold too? Don't tell me—let me guess," he teased. His fingers played among the tiny tendrils until she was blushing from his boldness, yet at the same time, she was panting with excitement at the new sensations his touch evoked.

  "You cannot tell by touch alone."

  "Of course I can. Black hair like my own is springy and coarse. Blond is superfine. Red curls, however, are rather saucy to the touch, exactly like their owner."

  She caught her breath as he separated the tendrils and slipped the tip of his finger into her cleft. He traced the folds gently until their fevered dryness be­came moist.

  "You have a tiny bud, just here." He stroked it, and when she gasped with pleasure, he slid his finger up inside her honeyed sheath. He felt it close possessively on him and he felt his pulse beating in his throat and his cock throbbing with anticipation. He circled her tiny bud with his thumb as his finger thrust in and out, slowly at first, then faster in a rhythm that matched the tempo of her quickened breathing.

  The pleasurable sensations inside her increased in intensity, slowly building to a taut peak. She stopped breathing, wanting to hold the sensation forever; then her body arched as she experienced her first delicious little climax. It felt as if her bud unfurled into an exotic flower whose petals were drenched with dew.

  He feathered kisses across her eyelids and temples. "How did that make you feel, Velvet?"

  "Wicked," she whispered softly.

  "Do you like feeling wicked, sweetheart?"

  "I do," she confessed, with great daring and hon­esty.

  "Then you are going to love the way this makes you feel." He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. "But first I want to see you unadorned, as God made you." He lifted the silk gown over her head and it fell in a pool at their feet. He gazed down at her naked beauty, enthralled by how delicate she looked.

  He stroked her upthrust breasts with their proud pink crests, then slid his powerful hands down across her rib cage until they came to rest about her tiny waist. Then he sank slowly to his knees, trailing a fiery row of kisses down across her belly.

  Velvet gazed down at his dark head in disbelief. What he was doing to her made her feel like a naked houri in paradise. His hands covered her bottom and pressed her forward for his mouth's ravishing. When Greysteel's lips touched her most intimate part she felt more wicked than she had ever felt in her life. Then his tongue plunged into her honeyed sheath, and the protest on her lips dissolved into a sigh of delight. His hungry mouth made her feel so excited she wanted to scream. Her fingers threaded through his long black hair, her head fell back, and a cry of rapture erupted from her throat.

  His thrusting tongue brought a surging wave of sensation that made her feel drunk with its insistent, tantalizing rhythm. This time, when her climax came, it was more intense and her body shuddered with liq­uid tremors.

  Greysteel stood, gathered her into his arms and kissed her deeply, knowing she would taste herself on his lips. He lifted her high against his heart and carried her before the mirror. "I want you to see how beautiful you are in your first passion." He lowered her feet to the carpet, and then cupped her shoulders to steady her from behind as he towered above her.

  Their reflection made such an intimate picture that she flushed all over. Her skin glowed, rosy from arousal, and her eyes were languid from his love play. Her knees felt like water and she would have fallen if his hard body had not supported her. She arched back against him as his palms captured her breasts. His rigid phallus throbbed against her soft flesh and for the first time she realized that her beauty was irre­sistible to him. He truly desires me. Perhaps I can make him love me.

  She met his ardent gaze in the mirror. "I want to see you." She watched his reflection as he removed his breeches and undergarment. She saw his cock rise in rampant splendor, saw the heavy sac beneath, nestled in crisp black curls. His muscled thighs looked power­ful as young tree trunks. She closed her eyes, willing her fear to leave her. Bravely, she swallowed her ap­prehension, and raised her eyes to his. "Take me to bed."

  He picked her up and carried her across the cham­ber. As the head of his lance brushed against her bum, his blood surged and he cautioned himself that he must not lose control. Not yet. Velvet was still virgin. He must breach her hymen, giving her as little pain as possible. For that, he would need to curb his lust and exercise restraint.

  He pulled back the covers and laid her upon the sheet. Then he lay down beside her, inviting her to ex­plore him. The shadowed chamber was filled with the sensuous sounds of rustling covers, the whisper of sleek skin against skin, the gasp and moan of mouth against mouth, the slide of rough hands through silken hair, the vibration of hot breath upon fiery flesh. Erotic sounds, intimate sounds, love sounds.

  Velvet lay in a wanton sprawl, almost incoherent with need, her hair a wild, disheveled tangle. When he moved between her thighs, he hung above her, allow­ing the head of his shaft to trace its teasing touch across her belly. He positioned the tip against her hot cleft. "Now, Velvet!"

  His low, husky voice rumbled over her like thunder and she felt as if she had been struck by lightning as he plunged down swiftly, surely, taking her maidenhead in the ancient hymeneal rite of a first mating. Her cry shattered the night. She contracted so tightly upon his long, thick shaft that it was momentarily as painful for him as it was for her. He willed himself to remain mo­tionless until she got used to the fullness.

  As he held still, Velvet became aware that deep within they pulsated and throbbed against each other. Heat leaped between them, making her feverish with need. "Please, Greysteel!" Suddenly, she was welcom­ing him in an undulating rhythm that felt like hot, rip­pling silk. He wished it could last forever, but knew he must make it short and sweet for her sake. With potent, powerful thrusts he brought them to a swift climax, crying out hoarsely as he spent.

  So that she would not have to bear his great weight, he rolled her on top of him, and cradled her
in the dominant position, whispering love words as their sated and satisfied bodies softened. "I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. There is pain only the first time." He lifted a red gold tress that drifted across his chest. "You enthrall me. Tell me that you feel the same, Velvet."

  She thrilled at his choice of words. Enthralled meant charmed or held in slavery. "Yes, I feel spellbound." You have magically transformed me into a sensual, beauti­ful woman. She also felt extremely languorous and her heavy eyelids began to close. She snuggled against him, her lips touching his throat. She remembered her mother's words as she drifted into sleep: Montgomery is noble and strong. I vow he will protect you and always keep you safe, my darling. Velvet's hand brushed across his heart. "My darling," she murmured softly.

  Greysteel held her tenderly, amazed at the way he felt. He realized that, until Velvet, there had always been something missing in his life. He had lived in a man's world without women. He didn't remember his mother, he had no sister, and he had never had a sweetheart. The females who'd accommodated him while he'd served in the army had been camp follow­ers. He had never known a woman's warmth and ten­derness. He had never known a woman's love. Velvet made him feel whole, complete. He had always ranged alone, suppressing the need for a companion, a soul mate. This woman—his woman—brought him comfort and solace, which he hadn't known he needed until tonight.

  A wave of protectiveness rose up in him and as he tucked her head beneath his chin, he vowed to make her his wife.

  In the morning, when Velvet awoke, she was aware that Greysteel was in bed with her before she raised her lashes. When she did, she found his intense grey eyes watching her.

  "You didn't tell Christian that you were coming to Roehampton, did you, Velvet? If you had, she would have told you that she had sold the manor to me."

  "No, I left her a letter instead," she confessed.

  "The dowager countess will know that we have been together. Overnight. You are well compromised." The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile of elation. "You will have to marry me to avoid dishonor."