Rogue for a Night

by Jenn Petersen

  And he did. Lower and lower, he tasted her until his lips brushed her thigh. Lucinda caught her breath. He wouldn’t…. not here in the night? Not the first time they were together? Would he?

  He answered her unspoken question by parting her legs further and gliding his fingers up the inside f her thigh. He looked up at her, holding her gaze as he stroked the entrance to her sex gently.

  “I want to taste you,” he whispered.

  Lucinda felt the hot blood flood her cheeks, both from embarrassment at his bluntness and pure arousal at the same. “Yes,” she said, opening herself without hesitation.

  He smiled and then his attention returned to her slick entrance. He parted her outer folds with his thumbs and swept a finger across the wetness there. Lucinda jolted with the pure, focused pleasure at that act. But that was nothing compared to when he adjusted himself on the shirt he was using as a cushion and pressed his hot mouth to her sex.

  Almost immediately, her body pulsed with long-denied sensations, pleasure so pure and focused that it bordered on pain, relief that she would have this experience. With this man. On this night.

  And Ronan gave her no quarter to think about what was happening. His skilled mouth and tongue went to work, tasting her every fold, sucking and licking until she trembled. And finally, slowly, he swirled his mouth around the hidden pearl of her pleasure.

  She exploded without warning, trembling, crying out, fisting her fingers against the edge of the bench she sat on as the pleasure rolled over her in wave after wave after wave, until she felt she was to be swept away by it and lost forever in this sea of sensation.

  Rage looked up. In the moonlight, Lucinda’s expression was one of shattered pleasure. Her chest heaved, her eyes were glazed, her cheeks pink. She looked ravished and he wanted to take that ravishment even further.

  He stood and she whimpered as his body stopped touching hers.

  “Don’t worry,” he said as he shed his trousers at some kind of record speed. “We’re not finished.”

  He moved toward her, but she held up a hand.

  “Stop,” she said, her voice tense.

  He froze. Stop. He hadn’t even considered she would say such a thing, not when she was dewy with sweat and flushed with release. But she had said it, and he had enough of a gentleman in him to obey that command.

  “I-I’m sorry-” he began.

  Her dark blue gaze came up to his face and she shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m-”

  She dropped her stare and Rage realized she was staring at his erection, jutted proudly against his abdomen, waiting to claim her as she had been born to be claimed.

  “You are… amazing,” she breathed and reached out to him.

  He stared as her fingers closed around him and let out a long, low groan at the feel of her soft fist clenching around his hard cock. She looked up as she stroked him once, twice.

  “Much more of that and I’ll be unmanned,” he growled, reaching down to catch her wrist and slow the movement of her wicked hand. “And I want to feel you around me before that happens.”

  He pulled and brought her to her feet. He kissed her, letting her taste the remnants of her own pleasure on his lips. She murmured incoherent sound of pleasure and need against his tongue between the hard, heavy kisses she met him with.

  It was too much. Control shattered and he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed her back against one of the thick, wooden support beams that held the gazebo roof above them. She hissed out pleasure as he readjusted himself against her slick and welcoming entrance and then pushed.

  She opened to him, welcoming him into her heat as he took her in one long stroke. And then he held perfectly still, enjoying the clenching sweetness of her channel around his hard cock, breathing in long, hard breaths that matched her own pants of anticipation and pleasure.

  “Please,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to his bare throat. “Please.”

  He thrust again, again, harder, faster, driving himself into her, taking her in every sense of the word. But she was no shrinking flower. She rode at the same pace that he set, meeting his strokes with her own. Their mouths merged, warring and surrendering in equal measure. Her breasts rubbed his bare chest, her thighs clenched around his hips. Finally, she dipped her head back, her body tensing and quivering around his and let out a keening cry that cut through his body, through his soul. With great reluctance, he pulled free of her and his seed splashed between them as he gave an animal grunt of release.

  Chapter Seven

  For a long moment, the only sounds around them were the soft chirps of crickets and the even fainter remnants of the music at the main house. Then Lucinda looked at him and Rage realized he still had her pinned against the support beam of the gazebo. She blushed, turning her face as he set her on her feet and steadied her before he released her and took a reluctant step away.

  She was even more beautiful in this moment than she had been before. Her blonde hair was disheveled and fell around her face in loose bouncing curls, her skin was flushed with self-awareness and the remnants of release and she remained naked. Perfect. And she had just been his, if only for a brief moment. His.

  “Here.” He dug a handkerchief from his discarded jacket pocket and handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said as she took the item and wiped away the evidence of his release from her bare skin.

  With another blush, she bent and picked up her discarded gown, freeing the chemise and shaking away the dust and twigs the fabric had gathered from the gazebo floor before she held it up to herself as some kind of shield.

  He picked up his own pants and pulled them on. When he was covered, she seemed more relaxed and set her gown aside to pull her chemise over her head. The dress was next, a wrinkled bit of proof of what they had just done.

  “Let me,” he said as she struggled to button herself. He turned her and refastened her gown as deftly as he had unbuttoned it just a short time before. When he was finished, she turned back toward him with another blush.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “Y-You are very good at that. Certainly more experienced than I am.”

  Rage tilted his head. Was that her fear?

  “My life has been markedly different than yours, Lucinda.” He shrugged. “But trust that what we just shared is nothing like anything else I’ve ever experienced.”

  She smiled but then the expression faded. Rage wrinkled his brow with worry.

  “Do you have regrets?” he asked, almost fearing the answer. “About what happened between us?”

  She was quiet for a moment, long enough that Rage’s chest tightened. Then she shook her head. “Not regret,” she said softly. “There was too much passion and pleasure for regret, and you certainly gave me enough time to consider this by leaving, so it wasn’t as if I was completely swept away from my senses.”

  “Thank you,” he teased.

  She laughed. “You know what I meant. Only that I made the decision to be with you with a fully functioning mind. Knowing the consequences. I just hadn’t thought…”

  She trailed off and Rage moved forward. “Thought?”

  One delicate shoulder lifted slightly. “I have never been with another man beyond my husband.”

  Rage flinched and hoped she hadn’t seen the reaction.

  “I see.”

  She looked at him. “No, I do not think that you do. It isn’t that I compared you. That would be dreadfully unfair to both you and to his memory. But it is a very odd thing, to have thought for so long that I would share my body with only one man and then to… find another.”

  Rage tilted his head. “Odd, but not bad?”

  “Not bad,” she reassured him in that gentle tone he’d heard her gift to so many others. “And I believe the next time I will not even have these tangled thoughts.”

  Rage took a long step back at her surprisingly bold statement. “Next time,” he repeated as he tried to recall exactly how one breathed. Was it in an
d out, for the action seemed very foreign to him in that moment.

  She nodded. “Yes. Unless you do not wish to continue this… what would you call it? This affair with me.”

  Rage’s chest all but puffed up with the idea that he could have her again. That this time he could make love to her slowly, on his bed, for example. That he could study her every reaction and sigh in order to exploit those things to give her more pleasure.

  “I do not feel the need to label what we share,” he said softly. “Only to tell you that it can be whatever you like. Last as long as you wish for it to last. You get to choose, Lucinda.”

  Lucinda’s eyes went wide and she blinked a few times before her wide smile thrilled him. “What a novel concept.”

  “Then enjoy it.”

  Her smile fell, replaced by a sensual expression that would have impressed even the most experienced courtesan. She nodded. “Oh, I intend to do just that. To the fullest.”

  She touched her hair and laughed. “But at this moment, I think the best thing for me to do is to sneak back into the house before anyone sees me looking like a wanton.”

  “Would you like me to escort you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. The house is but a short way away. And if I were to be caught in your company, certainly no one could be persuaded that we weren’t… well, doing exactly what we did do together. No, you go back up to the party since you look none the worse for our encounter. And I will see you tomorrow?”

  He stepped forward and took her hand. Gently, he drew her forward to kiss her one last time… at least for this night. She melted into his embrace. It was different than before. Now that they had made love, she fit differently into his arms. She responded quicker, she relaxed more. It took everything in him not to just sweep her into his arms and have her again, either here or back in his chamber in the house.

  In fact, it was Lucinda, who stepped away, slightly off kilter, pink with exertion and pleasure.

  “Good night, Ronan,” she murmured before she scurried from the gazebo back up the path toward the kitchen entrance to the manor house.

  He watched her make her escape, memorizing each foot fall, the way she held her skirt. And he didn’t look away until she had disappeared around a corner. Only then did he turn and brace himself on the gazebo wall with both hands.

  Normally he was a man who planned his every move. A fighter by heart, not just by action. He wanted to plan for his next attack, his next defense. But as much as he had driven this affair with Lucinda, already it had spiraled into something out of his control.

  And as uncomfortable as that made him… he also embraced it. And the knowledge that tomorrow he would see her again.

  ~~~

  When would she see him again?

  Lucinda shifted in her chair and tried not to look at the parlor door for what seemed like the twentieth time since joining Jane for tea just half an hour before.

  “Are you well?” her sister-in-law asked her.

  The question dragged Lucinda back to reality… and made her wonder at the answer herself. Was she well? In the way Jane meant it, of course. She was healthy, and aside from missing her daughters, more relaxed than she had been in years.

  But then there were the other ways one could be well. Last night she had hardly slept. When she did sleep, she had dreamed of Ronan and making love to him again and again. She had woken alone, frustrated and desperate to see him, almost to verify that what they had done was real and not just some vivid fantasy or dream.

  Only Ronan and Nicholas had not joined them thus far today. Something about a long-planned excursion shooting or riding or some equally manly diversion.

  “Lucinda?” Jane said and now there was increased concern to her tone.

  Lucinda shook away her thoughts. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m well, thank you.”

  Jane arched a brow and slowly sipped her tea. “You simply seem very distracted.”

  Lucinda nearly sucked her tea into her lungs. Oh dear, she was not good at clandestine affairs, that was certain. Not if everyone in her immediate vicinity could so easily see that her mind flitted about restlessly. She looked at Jane. Over time, she had come to see her sister-in-law as a good friend, and perhaps under other circumstances she might have confessed the reason for her “distraction”. But there was a very strong sticking point.

  Jane was married to Nicholas, and she would certainly tell him if Lucinda confessed to making love to Ronan in their garden. Revealing that to his best friend was not her place.

  So instead of lightening her soul with confession, Lucinda shrugged and hoped she seemed calm and unaffected. “Oh no, not distracted. Just enjoying the quiet, though I do miss my girls.”

  Jane nodded slowly and Lucinda could only hope she would accept her half-truth without question. It was certainly a very reasonable explanation.

  “Very good,” Jane finally said after what seemed like an eternity of contemplation. “We were quite worried when you vanished from the ball last night.”

  Heat flooded Lucinda’s cheeks and she cursed her body for its betrayal. “Well, as I said this morning when you asked me about it, I only had a touch of a headache. I didn’t want to trouble anyone, so I just took to my bed. I feel perfectly fine now.”

  There was a long pause and then Jane leaned forward to pour herself a second cup of tea.

  “You know, Rage disappeared for some time last night, as well.” Jane lifted her gaze to Lucinda and held her stare evenly. “I wonder if headaches are contagious.”

  Lucinda swallowed and struggled to keep her face neutral. She had never been a very good liar.

  “Hmm,” she croaked out past a suddenly dry throat that even a huge gulp of tea didn’t soothe. “Well, I wouldn’t know. Did Mr. Riley also say he was suffering a headache?”

  Jane shook her head. “No. I mentioned his absence when he returned to our company but you know Rage. He only replied with a shrug. And Nicholas didn’t see it as odd. Rage doesn’t like these events. I just thought it odd that you two would vanish at the same time.”

  Now Lucinda’s hands trembled slightly and she gripped her tea cup even tighter. “And did Nicholas also comment on the coincidence?”

  Jane laughed. “Nicholas is the man to turn to if you want someone to notice a nefarious character in a crowded room or to find the best horse at an auction… but my dear husband rarely notices little Societal, er, coincidences. And if he does, he sees nothing meaningful in them.”

  Lucinda barely contained her sigh of relief. “Well, perhaps that is how we should all be. A coincidence is sometimes just that.”

  Jane tilted her head and her stare seemed to pierce Lucinda’s skin and go all the way to her very soul. She didn’t appear judgmental, just curious, as if she were trying to solve a riddle. Her intense scrutiny made Lucinda shift in her chair and her heart beat all the faster.

  Finally, Jane shrugged. “You may be correct in that, my dear. In our Society, too often there are coincidences turned to damaging rumor. But you know, Rage is a very handsome man. Many a woman in your station has commented to me on his finer qualities.”

  Perhaps Jane meant that comment as a comfort, and Lucinda knew she should be more concerned that Jane was aware that she had an interest in Ronan… but instead she felt… jealous. “Other woman have spoken to you about him?”

  Jane nodded. “Many, actually. He has a quality about him that is so different from many of the men they know. I think he is a fascination.”

  Lucinda pursed her lips. “I see.”

  At her tone, Jane’s brow wrinkled. “I only say that because I think no one could blame you if you felt an attraction to him.”

  “Oh, some could,” Lucinda murmured, then blushed. “If I were to feel such an attraction, I mean.”

  Jane stared at her. “Lucinda-”

  “There would be consequences to such a thing,” Lucinda interrupted. “And it isn’t as if I know the man that well. Handsome or not, attraction or not, there ar
e other things to consider.”

  Jane nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is true, especially since you have children. But I have learned from very personal experience that what others think or do or say really doesn’t matter when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  The heart. Lucinda shut her eyes. In all honesty, she wasn’t certain if what was happening between her and Ronan had to do with the heart, or just the lusty demands of a long-denied body.

  “And as for knowing him,” Jane said with a shrug. “Any time I have seen you two together since your arrival, you two seem to have an easy rapport. Since you’ll be here for a while longer, it seems the perfect time to become better acquainted.”

  Lucinda set her tea cup down and got to her feet. “Goodness Jane, you are creating a situation where there is none. I do like Mr. Riley, I admit. He is an interesting companion, but I-”

  Jane raised her hand. “You needn’t say more. I pried and it was not my business.” She stood and reached her hands out to take Lucinda’s. “I only want you to be happy, however you find that emotion. And I hope that if you need a friend to listen to you, you will think of me.”

  Lucinda drew a long breath. Jane was only trying to be helpful. There was no reason to behave otherwise. She squeezed her sister-in-law’s fingers gently.

  “I know you are a great friend to me,” she reassured Jane. “And I do appreciate your kindness and your concern on my behalf. But I’m afraid I must find my own way.”

  Jane nodded but she didn’t seem reassured. “Of course.”

  “Now I believe I will retire to my room for a bit. I find myself tired and perhaps a nap will help.”

  “Whatever you wish, Lucinda,” Jane said as Lucinda made her way to the parlor door.

  Lucinda smiled, but the expression fell as she stepped into the hall. Jane’s words mirrored Ronan’s. Whatever she wished… well, what if she didn’t know what she wished?