by Jane Charles
their kiss. She needed him closer, and her arms snaked up around his shoulders so she could pull him to her. His mouth trailed from her lips to her cheek and down her neck while his hand caressed her side. When he cupped her breast his lips returned to hers. Elizabeth arched into his hand, her breasts becoming heavy, more sensitive than she thought possible. The temperature in the room increased, and all she wanted to do was tear off her dress.
His lips and hands left her, and John rolled away. “What am I doing?”
“Jean Pierre would know.”
There was a hiss. “I am not Jean Pierre.”
“I know. I was teasing.” Why was he angry all of a sudden? She returned her hand to his chest, wishing they could go back to what they were doing.
He moved it onto the bed. “I can’t kiss you…or touch you. It is not right.”
She didn’t want his honor, she wanted him, and this may be her only chance. “Why?”
The bed dipped and the warmth of his breath caressed her cheek. “Do you really need to ask such a question? Are you so innocent?”
“I may be innocent, but I don’t see why we cannot continue.”
“I am not that strong to lay here and kiss and caress you without wanting more.”
Nicholas had explained to her a very long time ago that a gentleman could only take so much, and even then the most honorable would succumb to seduction, unable to turn back. He had wanted to warn her at the beginning of her first Season and she kept the lesson in the back of her mind whenever she was courted. She suspected John was at that point.
She wanted him unable to turn back. “What if I want more?”
“You have no idea what you are suggesting.”
“Don’t I?”
“You are the granddaughter of a duke. Your cousin was a friend of mine. You are a lady. One who should remain pure until her wedding night. A lady to be respected and honored.”
Elizabeth brought her fingers to his lips to silence him. “John, I may be the granddaughter of a duke but I am also a spy. I am three-and-twenty and will never marry. When will I get the opportunity? I suspect that after the holiday with the family, another assignment will be found for me.”
“But…”
“Do you know what I may be asked to do in the future?” she interrupted. “My superiors were very clear that one day I may be called to use everything at my disposal to get information. They didn’t hint at possibilities but wanted to know if I was willing to use my body if necessary.”
Though he knew this to be true—and many women had prostituted themselves for king and country—he’d never thought of Elizabeth doing so. Perhaps in the beginning, when he only knew her as Lisette, but not now. In fact, the idea of her in bed with another man angered him, but he was powerless to do anything.
“What kind of seductress would I make when the only person I have ever kissed was you?”
He smiled, pleased with her confirmation.
“I don’t want to risk life and limb because I don’t know what to expect. And I would rather this be on my terms, with a man I admire and not some man who has information we may vitally need. Besides, how would I explain my virginity?”
She made a strong argument, and it would be so easy to give in. Heaven knew he wanted to make love to her, and she had the right to know love, passion, and tenderness without having to use her body as a bartering chip.
“Besides, I want you.”
The words were barely a whisper, but they destroyed all resolve within his being.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she was going to need to resort to begging, but apparently she uttered the magic words. John’s lips formed against hers and his hands came around to her back. It was as if they had never been interrupted. The buttons at the back of her dress loosened, and soon he was pushing the sleeves down her arms. Elizabeth pulled his shirt from his pants and pushed it over his head. John stopped what he was doing momentarily to free his arms before he went back to freeing hers. He shoved the dress to her waist and the chemise followed. John leaned forwards and deepened the kiss, rolling her onto her back, partially laying on her. The fine hair on his chest rubbed against her already sensitive nipples.
John’s lips left hers and trailed down her neck and to her collarbone before he reached her breasts. He paused a moment and lifted both in his hands, as if weighing them. His thumbs brushed over each nipple, sending bolts of pleasure to her core. Elizabeth arched, and John molded each in his hands before he drew the tip of one into his mouth. Elizabeth thought she might die from the pleasure. The friction of the stubble on his cheek was in contrast to the silky, hot smoothness of his tongue, setting every nerve on fire.
He moved his leg between hers and pressed against her womanhood, bringing only minor relief to the ache. She pressed against him, hoping he would touch her more or relieve some of this building pressure, while her hands caressed his back. She didn’t know what to do or where to touch, too lost in a sea of new sensations.
John sat up and pushed her dress and chemise over her hips, down her legs and off to the side, leaving her completely naked to him. Thank goodness it was too dark to see anything, or she would need to find the blanket.
His fingers trailed down her stomach until they came to her curls and paused. Don’t stop now. She arched, encouraging him to continue, and soon he did. After that, she was lost. She had no idea what magic he created, but in a matter of moments something inside her shattered. She arched and screamed while John’s mouth covered hers, muffling any sound.
She lay there panting, wondering what was next, but John did nothing further. She knew there was more—he had yet to find any pleasure. After what she experienced, she wanted him to experience the same. Instead, he lay on his back, breathing deeply.
Elizabeth came up on her elbows and moved towards him. He was having second thoughts, or at least she assumed that was the case, but she would not allow it. She bent forwards and placed her lips on his chest. It was a bit awkward because she could not see what she was doing, so she used her fingers to caress him until she found the flat nipple and continued to tease and nip as he had done to her. His breathing became erratic and she smoothed her hand down his stomach until she came to the waist of his pants. John grabbed her hand.
“Elizabeth,” he pleaded.
“I want you, John.”
His hand fell way. She undid the packet of his pants and slid her hand inside. Thank goodness she had listened to the maids in Tuileries when they talked of their liaisons or she wouldn’t have any idea how to go about this. His hips lifted and she moved her hand around his shaft then up and down. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but he seemed not to mind. His hips came up again, and John pushed his pants off.
With gentle hands against her shoulder, he pushed her onto her back. His fingers were between her legs again. Elizabeth arched into him and John repeated his caresses. Elizabeth was surprised when she shattered a second time. Before she could recover, he had moved between her thighs. His member probed and entered.
A moment later he stopped, lowered his mouth to hers, and gave her the gentlest kiss, so loving that tears came to her eyes. He then plunged forwards, tearing though her virgin barrier. Elizabeth clenched her teeth to keep from crying out.
His hands touched her face and he stilled. “You are crying. Did I hurt you that badly?”
She turned her face and kissed his palm. “No. That is not what the tears are from.” Thank goodness he didn’t ask why she cried, because she would be hard-pressed to explain her emotions at the moment.
His lips returned to hers, and soon he was moving in the age-old rhythm, slowly increasing his tempo before he jerked away and groaned. Warmth spread across her abdomen. John had enough control not to leave her with child. It was a consideration she should appreciate, but it also left her partially disappointed. It was stupid, of course. A child would ruin everything for her, and how would she ever explain? But apparently he ha
d not been as overcome with passion as she that he forgot everything, including the consequences of their making love.
John fell to the side and lay without saying a word before she felt him move. She heard ripping and assumed it was her chemise. The thing was already in tatters from being used for bandages. He returned and wiped her stomach before settling down beside her and drawing her into his arms. Elizabeth felt the need to say something, but she was robbed of speech. Instead she lay in the cocoon of his arms, relishing these moments with him.
He couldn’t let her go. He must, he knew that, but he didn’t want to. Elizabeth was perfect for him, and once they docked he would have to turn his back on her and move on to the next assignment. How many more men would she sleep with before she retired? The idea of another man sharing with her what he just had sent his pulse rising. She was his, and nobody had the right to touch her.
But Elizabeth wasn’t his. She belonged to England, and they would use her how they saw fit. He could out her and ruin her career, but to what end? It wasn’t as if they had a future together. He could be gone weeks and months at a time, leaving her to wait for him in England, which would be grossly unfair. Besides, what if his assignment turned into something that lasted for years, as this last one had? Was it really right to ask her to sit back and wait for him? No. He had to let her go. As much as it