“No need to leave tonight,” Lord Weldon continued. “I’ll arrange for a message to be delivered to you in the morning. You can fabricate whatever sort of emergency you like. Or better yet, keep it vague. That’ll give the ladies something to gossip about and maybe I can escape to the stables for a while.
“Happy to be of service,” Perry lied.
*
The vermillion waistcoat hit the floor without ceremony. In another week, Perry promised it silently, it would be making its home in the dustbin. Or maybe he would bequeath it to Wilfred when Perry the fop was replaced by Perry the landowner. Perry the farmer.
“Pericles Munk, gentleman farmer,” Perry said out loud as he felt his way through his dark room. If only he could be certain that a gentleman farmer would be enough for Cecily.
His removed his detested evening shoes and kicked them under a chair. Maybe a bonfire would be in order when he laid the fop to rest. A ritual burning of his former self. A last dramatic gesture. Or maybe the gentleman farmer would have to continue dressing like a fop because he wouldn’t be able to afford new clothes after he bought back the family farm. Maybe he’d end up wearing that vermillion waistcoat to shear sheep and build fences.
“Maybe you’ll finally do an honest day’s work, my frivolous friend,” he said to his lace-trimmed shirt as he dropped it onto a chair.
Something that wasn’t his shirt made a rustling sound.
Perry froze. The candle that had lit his way to his room was sitting on the little table by the door where he had set it after he blew it out. The moon lit the room well enough to undress but not well enough to find an intruder. If somebody were lying in wait for him, Perry would probably be dead by the time he lit the candle. Franco must have overheard his conversation with Lord Weldon. Maybe a quiet retreat and a return with reinforcements would be the wisest course of action.
More rustling sounds filled the room as a dark form rose up from the bed. No, not a dark form. Something pale and ethereal. A ghost. It was certainly an old enough house to have a ghost. But did ghosts rustle?
“Perry?”
The ghost stepped toward him and into the moonlight.
Not a ghost, after all, but something even more unlikely.
“Have you lost your mind?” Perry wanted to know.
Cecily’s smile faltered. Then she grinned.
“I think I probably have. But lying in bed all night thinking about you would have made it even worse, I’m sure. I just wanted to see you.”
Perry stared at her. Having voiced his initial reaction, he didn’t seem to be able to say another word. She was wearing almost nothing. Or more precisely, she was wearing yards and yards of fabric that billowed around her yet somehow gave the impression of being next to nothing, maybe because it was so loosely tied in the front that he could see she was wearing nothing beneath.
Cecily took an uncertain step toward him and her dressing gown slipped further open.
“And I thought you might want to see me,” she said.
Perry nodded. “That doesn’t make it a good idea.”
“I think that depends on how you look at it,” she said, taking another step toward him. “Sometimes bad ideas turn out to be the best ideas, don’t you think?”
“Right.” Perry couldn’t think clearly enough to try making sense of that. Experience had taught him that when a woman baffled him, it was always safest to just agree in a vague sort of way. “Quite,” he added for good measure.
Another step forward and now she was close enough to touch. She reached out and touched him with her fingertips, running them so lightly across his chest hair that she didn’t touch his skin.
“Soft,” she said, dropping her hand down to her side.
Perry nodded again. He wasn’t certain that he was remembering to breathe. He really didn’t want to pass out at Cecily’s feet.
“Tell me what to do,” she said.
“Do?” Good, he thought. He’d spoken. That meant he must be breathing.
“I’ll do anything you want. Just tell me.”
Perry tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. How could a woman sound so innocent and so wickedly seductive at the same time? And what precisely did she mean by anything? He thought of the images in the little book he had found in her room. Was she hoping he would ask her to do something she had seen in the book and if so, how was he to decide, with just this one night to spend with her before he had to race off to London? Yes, he wanted to see her sprawled on his bed with her legs wide open. He wanted to see her on her hands and knees. He wanted to see her looking up at him as she took him into her mouth.
“Step into the light so I can see you,” he whispered when he could speak. “Let me look at you.”
Cecily moved away from him to stand in front of the window. Perry matched her step for step. He didn’t think it would have been possible for him to move away from her.
She looked up at him, waiting. “I want to try everything.”
“That’ll take more time than we have,” Perry said, twining a bit of her hair around his finger. “I have to leave in the morning.”
“Oh.”
Perry had never in his life been so happy to see another person looking disappointed. He lowered his head to kiss her and she put her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. He could feel her nipples through the fabric of her peignoir as she crushed her breasts against his chest. And he knew she could feel the erection that had been growing since he first realized she was in his bedroom, half naked and waiting for him.
She moved her hips, rubbing against him. One of her hands started working its way down his body, testing and stroking as it went, until her palm was pressed firmly against his cock.
“I know about some things that you wouldn’t expect me to know about,” she whispered against his chin.
“Oh?” Now was definitely not the time to confess that he had been rummaging around in her room earlier in the day. Then he remembered how the book had fallen open in his hands, revealing an image that she must have spent a good deal of time looking at.
“Turn around,” he said abruptly, breaking away from her mouth.
She turned like a born seductress—or like a woman who spent a lot of time thinking about sex—never breaking contact, rubbing her body along his as she moved. She wriggled her bottom against him and reached one hand up behind her to touch his hair.
The sash of her peignoir gave up the ghost and slithered to the floor with a whisper of silk. Perry slipped his hand into the gap and cupped Cecily’s breast with one hand while he pressed his other hand against her belly, holding her still. The only movement was their breathing. Perry made a concentrated effort to keep his slow and steady but Cecily’s breath was coming in fast little pants. She wriggled against him and whimpered and Perry resisted the urge to pick her up and toss her on the bed and devour her. The only thing he wanted more than to bury himself inside her was to give her more pleasure than she knew was possible.
“Don’t move,” he whispered as his hand moved slowly down her belly and lower, his fingers brushing against the curls.
Cecily pressed forward against his hand.
“Please,” she pleaded.
“Please what?”
Perry pulled her earlobe into his mouth. When she finally answered, he had almost forgotten he had asked her a question.
“Touch me.”
“And to think that just moments ago you made me think you were only interested in what I wanted.”
She made a move to pull away but Perry held her tight against his body.
“You don’t want to touch me?”
She sounded uncertain. All traces of the seductress were gone, leaving behind something much more irresistible—a woman who wanted him to do with her all of the things he was dying to do. A woman who was ready to surrender herself to their pleasure.
“You mean like this?” he asked, cupping his hand over the moist heat between her legs.
“More
.”
Perry was about to oblige. He was eager to oblige. But then he had a thought.
“Did you mean it when you said you want to do everything?”
“Yes. I want to do it all. With you. Now.”
She pressed back against him as she spoke the last word but Perry released her and stepped back before she could destroy his last particle of free will.
He sighed dramatically. “I’ll have to think about this for a bit.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cecily turned to face him.
“What do you mean think about it?” She had thought she was on the verge of living out her fantasies and now they had to stop to deliberate? Were men always this perplexing?
“Well, if you really want to do everything, we have to plan carefully to squeeze the most activity into a single night.”
He took hold of the edge of her peignoir and rubbed it between his fingers. His hand was barely an inch from her bare breast. Why wasn’t he touching that instead?
“Without completely exhausting me,” he added. “I do still have to ride to London tomorrow.”
The back of his hand brushed against Cecily’s taut nipple, sending a thrill of longing through her body.
“I’m thinking a list might be in order,” Perry suggested.
Cecily tried to read his face in the dim light.
“You’re teasing me,” she declared.
“Um, well, to be precise, yes.”
“Why?”
He seemed to actually give it moment of thought before answering, “I don’t quite know. I don’t seem to be able to help it.”
“Is that normal?” She couldn’t remember anything about teasing in Aunt Alice’s books.
“I’m sure it’s not unheard of.”
“Will you kiss me again?” A little bit of conversation was one thing, Cecily thought, but she was starting to feel foolish standing half naked in front of a man who seemed to have lost interest in touching her.
“Kissing you is my fondest desire,” he assured her, giving her a long and longing look. “Or at least one of my fondest. But first, you should sit down. It’s not just any kiss I have in mind.”
That sounded more like it. Cecily wasted no time in perching herself on the edge of the bed.
“A little too prim and proper,” Perry said with a hint of a growl in his voice. “Open your legs.”
Cecily felt her whole body grow hot and flushed. Heat pulsed between her legs as she moved them apart.
Perry took a step toward her, his eyes locked on her body. “That’s a start.” There was none of the teasing tone in his voice now.
He put his hands on her knees and pushed them apart until she felt a stretch in her thighs. He looked down at her and she thought he would kiss her—he had promised he would kiss her—but instead he knelt down in front of her and turned his face to bestow a hot kiss high on her inner thigh. She felt his tongue on her skin as he covered her leg with kisses. A little sound escaped her throat, something between a gasp and a moan.
Perry looked up at her. “You’ve heard of this kind of kiss?”
Cecily nodded. He was alternately stroking her thighs and pressing his strong hands against them, ever so gradually pushing her legs further apart as desire melted her body, leaving her limp and pliant. She knew that if he looked down, he would see all of her. She was fully exposed to him. Nothing that was normally hidden by the contours of her body and layers of clothes was hidden now.
“I’ve read about it,” she forced herself to say, just to prove that she still had some control over her body.
“Book learning,” Perry said with a little shake of his head. “Nothing next to the real thing. Relax and lie back and I’ll show you the real thing.”
“I am relaxed.”
“Do you want kisses or not?”
“I am relaxed,” she repeated but she lowered herself down onto the bed anyway.
Her arms were still covered by the sleeves of her peignoir but the rest of her body was deliciously, wickedly uncovered. Except for where Perry’s hands were covering her, and that was just about everywhere. They roved up and down her legs as he nuzzled her. They swept over her hips and her belly on their way to her breasts. His fingers clamped onto her nipples. She arched her back, longing to feel his mouth on her breasts, but his mouth was busy doing wonderful things lower on her body, moving from one leg to the other, kissing and nibbling and licking.
Cecily tried to stop making the little sounds that kept escaping from her mouth. She thought they sounded foolish and more than a little desperate. For a moment, she thought clearly enough to worry about being heard but then Perry’s hands were on the move again, back to her legs and between her legs, spreading her open and caressing all those parts that she’d hardly known she had until she discovered Aunt Alice’s books. But there was one part he seemed to be avoiding.
She wriggled her hips, trying to brush her clitoris against those evasive fingers, but clearly that wasn’t what Perry had in mind. His hands moved to her belly and his arms pressed down on her legs, holding her still.
Then she felt it. It wasn’t a kiss, precisely, but it was most definitely his tongue. As much as she had read about it, as intriguing as it seemed, she’d had her doubts. One stroke of Perry’s tongue dispelled them all. She felt each caress through her whole body. His fingers pressed against her belly as his tongue did a tantalizing dance around her clitoris. Cecily was certain she would die of pleasure and longing if he kept it up for much longer.
Ages later—or was it seconds?—when Perry’s tongue hit the target, Cecily clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out. This was nothing like touching herself. It wasn’t even anything like when Perry had touched her in the Queen Elizabeth room. The heat of his mouth matched her body’s heat and fed it. Every flick of his tongue made her heart race a little faster. I could do this forever, she thought an instant before she felt his fingers inside her, pushing her deeper into a state of pure bliss than she’d imagined was possible and then pushing her further, until she had to cover her mouth with both hands to hold in the cries that she couldn’t stop as pleasure overwhelmed her.
“Did you read about that?” Perry asked when he joined her on the bed.
He moved her hands away from her face so he could kiss her. He tasted different than before and Cecily realized that now he tasted of her. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through her. She had just experienced so much pleasure that she was certain she should probably be dead, or at least unconscious, but miraculously, insanely, she wanted more. She wanted Perry to touch her again, to consume her and fill her and teach her.
He moved away from her and stood next to the bed. Cecily was about to protest but then he began removing his breeches. She sat up and tugged the sleeves from her arms and moved toward the middle of the bed.
“What would you like to try next?” he asked. “I’ll warn you, though. I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”
The warm glow inside Cecily throbbed. He wanted her.
“Anything,” she whispered. “You choose.”
Before she could blink, Perry was back on the bed with her, his body covering hers, pressing her down, his kisses making her lightheaded. He wrapped one of his arms firmly around her waist and rolled, so that now she was on top of him. Here was something that Cecily knew a little something about, but the way Perry was squeezing her bottom was making it a bit difficult to think. She remembered the maid, Lucy, perched atop her lover and Cecily drew her knees up, allowing Perry’s cock to rub against her slick skin. It felt heavenly but she knew there was more to it.
“I’m not quite sure how…” she said, not certain how to finish the sentence.
Perry shifted his hips. Then he shifted her hips with his hand, did a little wriggle and—
“Oh!” Was there a word to describe something that was better than heavenly?
“Ohhh,” Perry agreed.
Cecily sat up, the way Lucy had, a world and a
lifetime away in Yorkshire, and moved cautiously on Perry’s cock. She felt his hands on her thighs and she looked down at his fingers digging into her. It almost hurt but it felt lovely, too, and it made her want to move faster on him, to press down harder with each downward movement. She wriggled against him, striving for more contact.
Perry shifted one of his hands and pressed his thumb against her slick skin. Now with each movement she rubbed against his thumb, creating the most exquisite combination of sensations. She moved faster, increasing the mounting pleasure and taking Perry along with her. She was dimly aware of him pushing his pelvis up to meet hers, faster and more frantically, until she cried out, this time not thinking to care if anybody heard her.
Seconds later, as Cecily shuddered with little jolts of pleasure, Perry gripped her hips and clamped her securely against him. He made a growling sound as he drove into her and there was just enough light for Cecily to see a brief, fierce smile cross his face before being replaced by an expression that looked like utter amazement as he shuddered beneath her.
Cecily watched his body relax and his breathing grow steadier. She wished she knew what she was supposed to do now. It felt silly and awkward to still be perched on top of him but there didn’t seem to be any graceful way to disengage herself.
“I’ll speak to your father as soon as my business in London is settled,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
“My father? Why?” This was hardly the moment to be bringing up her father.
“To ask for his blessing, of course.”
Cecily stared down at him. She really wished she knew how to get into a more appropriate position for a serious conversation—and that he would stop rubbing his thumbs in little circles on her legs.
“Did you think you could just use me and then disappear back to Yorkshire without a promise of marriage?” he asked with a grin.
“But I have plans,” she said uncertainly. She couldn’t quite remember them at the moment but she knew she had spent hours and hours making grand plans. It didn’t seem right to abandon them so suddenly.
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