“I’m sure you’re more beautiful than Elizabeth ever was,” he continued. “And while I am assuredly no Robert Dudley, I can still make you a very happy woman.”
Helena groaned deep in her throat and allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder as his hand slid around to cup her other breast, his fingers gently teasing at them, building pleasurable sensations within her.
“I wonder how one made love to a queen regnant,” Malcolm said idly. “Did you have to ask her permission?” He chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss Helena’s cheek. “Your majesty, may I undo your bodice?”
“Will you stop thinking about Elizabeth?” said Helena crossly.
“Oh, I’m not thinking about Elizabeth, believe me,” he assured her. “I’m thinking of you, and how magnificent you are. Also how pleased I am that passage opened into a bedroom, and that you asked me to show you where it went.”
He slid a hand slowly down her stomach until he reached the juncture of her thighs, which he lightly cupped through the thin fabric of her skirt. Helena moved against him, seeking greater contact.
“Are you wet yet?” he asked conversationally. “You seem very eager. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I—I don’t know,” panted Helena. She moved her bottom against him, seeking relief from the coiling tension in her body.
“You must learn to tell me what makes you happy,” said Malcolm. “Yesterday you were so lovely, and it all happened so quickly. I took you hastily because I had been wanting to since I first kissed you. But today, you will tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know how to say it,” Helena ground out, frustration in her voice. Her hand slid down his arm to where he still cupped her, and she pulled him more tightly against her, grinding against him as the tantalizing pressure built.
“You don’t always need words,” whispered Malcolm. “You have just told me very plainly what you want.”
The hand that had been slowly teasing at her breast reached down and lifted her skirt, revealing the long white length of her legs. “Here, hold them up for me,” he urged, and she clutched at the billowing muslin that frothed around them.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now, watch.”
Helena looked down, mesmerized, as Malcolm’s hand floated over the fiery curls he had revealed between her legs. He slowly stroked them, then slid further, parting her tender flesh until he touched what seemed to her to be the very center of her being. She gave a tiny gasp of relief.
“I asked if you were wet. Shall we see?”
Helena gave a little nod and he allowed his hand to drift farther.
“I think you must be,” he whispered. “As I said before, you seem very eager.”
So slowly that Helena felt she might scream with frustration, he slid a finger into her. She clenched around him immediately, seeking to draw him in further.
“Ah, I was right, darling.” He moved his finger in a gentle rhythm as his thumb plucked at the core of her. “I think you can take another, don’t you?”
When she said nothing, he paused, his hand stilling. “Tell me.”
“Yes, I think I can,” she said in a small voice. “Please.”
“You say that very sweetly. You deserve a reward.” Malcolm kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear and then, again with tantalizing slowness, a second finger sank into her, moving in that seductive undulation that made her think she must go mad.
“Is that enough?” he asked. “Or do you want more?”
She gave a tiny gasp of anticipation. “More, please.”
He nipped at her ear. “Are you still watching?”
She nodded.
“I want you to watch so that you can see how beautiful you are.” With exquisite tenderness, he slid a third finger into her, spreading her slightly, moving across her slick surfaces gently, building her fires ever higher. “I can’t wait until I have my cock inside you,” he growled in her ear. “You are the warmest, most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt.”
Her eyes widened slightly at his words, and then he raised his thumb and stroked the pearl that nestled just above his hand as he nipped simultaneously at the nape of her neck. Helena gave a cry as the wave of passion she had been riding crested and she gave herself up to the pulsing that crashed over her. Malcolm held her trembling against him as her knees grew weak.
Some moments passed and Helena stirred slightly in his grip. He slid his fingers out of her, but they continued to tangle gently in her downy curls.
“That was lovely,” he said. “You are lovely.”
She tried to shake her head, but he slid a hand up her neck, tilting her head back against him, holding her still.
“Never deny this,” he said simply. “Neither of us can.”
She rested a moment, her breath slowly returning to normal, and then Malcolm turned her in his arms. “Now, my dear, I want to feel you around me. I believe I mentioned that, and you found the notion very pleasing. I need to be inside you, and soon.”
He took her hand, guiding it to the front of his breeches. Helena cupped him, and then allowed her wandering fingers to trace the outline of his erection as she felt him swell and lengthen further. She sighed her approval.
“This dress is lovely, but I really think it must come off.” Malcolm’s hands moved quickly over the fastenings of her gown as he slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall into a puddle of muslin on the carpet. Her chemise followed it, and he cupped her breasts in his hands, delicately rubbing the swollen pink tips before taking one in his mouth, where his tongue teased it to a point. Helena moaned, and her hand tightened over him.
Malcolm raised his head and looked down at her, one hand gently squeezing the taut crest of a breast until she felt a shock of desire shoot through her body.
“Do you want more of that?” he asked.
She nodded.
“It’s yours,” he promised.
Helena glanced down and tentatively undid his breeches, slipping her hand inside to feel the smoothness of his silky skin over the demanding hardness. She stroked her hand up and down, feeling Malcolm’s tremors of pleasure, pleased to know she could bring the same overwhelming sensations to him that he gave to her. She lifted his thick weight in her hand, freeing it from its confinement, pushing at his breeches in an attempt to gain greater access to him.
“Let me help you with that, darling,” said Malcolm. He released her and, with a facility she realized she should resent, divested himself of his boots, then stripped off his coat and shirt. Finally he pulled off his breeches, and stood before her naked. Helena’s breath quickened as she gazed at his broad shoulders and narrow hips, his erection high against his flat stomach. Helena hesitated, overwhelmed by his beauty but also dimly aware that his obvious comfort with his nudity in front of her indicated years of experience. She pushed the thought aside, distracted by the promise in his eyes, and allowed one hand to trail down his abdomen to his rigid length. She stroked it gently at first and with more firmness and finally, with great daring, she dropped to her knees to allow her tongue to circle the bulbous head. She licked the little droplet of moisture from the tip as he arched into her, the sinews of his thighs clenching as he strove to control himself while she drew him into her warm, moist mouth, closing her lips over his shaft, taking him deep inside.
Astonished and delighted at her boldness, Malcolm reached down to caress her breasts, gently pressing her distended nipples, as she continued to lick and suck at him. Finally, with an oath, he withdrew from her, watching as his erection popped wet and glistening from between her lips. She looked up, puzzled.
“Am I doing something wrong?”
Malcolm gave a shaky laugh. “You are doing everything precisely right, my dear. But if I am to satisfy you, you cannot continue.”
He raised her to her feet, pausing only to kiss her deeply and possessively and then tumbled her onto the bed, his hands stroking her back, her buttocks, her stomach, pushing through her hair, scattering pins everywhere. He rol
led onto his back and clasped her by the waist, lifting her over him.
“I know you to be an excellent horsewoman, and am sure you can ride me just as well,” he said, with a wicked smile.
Helena looked at him round-eyed, then seemed to see the advantages of his suggestion. She placed her hands on his chest, reveling in the feel of his warm skin and put her leg across him, placing one knee on each side of his hips.
Malcolm grinned. “Such a delightful sight. You learn quickly. Perhaps you should remain there one moment while I ascertain that you still want me.” He raised a hand, and dragged two fingers between her nether lips, across the honeyed skin, slick with her desire, and drew them back, covered with her pearly essence.
“You need someone to make love to you,” he whispered.
Helena shivered, and then, grasping him firmly, fitted him to her drenched channel and lowered herself slowly along his rigid length. She arched her back, as with a thick slide he filled her more deeply than she had thought possible, and then paused a moment, quivering against him as he stretched her wide. Then she rose again slowly, tantalizingly, until Malcolm grasped her hips and pushed her back down again, urging her into a rhythm that would satisfy them both.
“What, are you impatient?” she teased.
Malcolm thrust upward once more, his hands on her hips, holding her down for sensational seconds as he braced his feet and surged into her until she felt she could no longer form a coherent thought. She whimpered, hovering on edge of ecstasy, and then he lifted her off his erection abruptly, holding her by the waist, only the very tip of him inside her.
“Impatient?” he repeated. “We shall see who is impatient.” The corded strength of his powerful arms was visible as he held her there, and she began to squirm, seeking to take him inside her again. Her body throbbed with unsated pleasure, crying for release.
“If you don’t wish to climax again, you should tell me,” Malcolm murmured. “You don’t have to, you know. I won’t force you.”
Helena groaned, aching for him, the small pressure of him just inside her sending a hot spiraling tension through her core, the promise of rapture denied. “Please, Malcolm,” she whispered.
“Please what?”
“Please let me—”
“Let you what?” asked Malcolm inexorably.
“Please be inside me again,” breathed Helena.
“You can’t scream when you come,” he warned gently. “The servants will hear, and they will gossip.”
“I won’t,” said Helena in a small voice.
“Very well.” Malcolm lowered her slowly, guiding her gently into place, penetrating her engorged tissue by delicate degrees. She felt herself open to him, tiny tremors starting already as he seated himself deeply inside her. When their bodies met he held her still, his hands on her hips, soothing her gently as she whimpered, her senses aflame, the cresting passion so near and yet still not accessible. He reached up and cupped her breasts, his fingers rolling her engorged nipples. Slowly, he urged her down towards him, the new angle increasing the friction between them, and took one turgid peak between his lips, suckling, and then biting down with exquisite slowness.
Helena’s cry echoed across the Queen’s Room as peaking ecstasy flooded through her, no longer able to form a rational response. She spasmed around him ferociously as he released himself into her warmth, gasping for breath at the power of his climax. He clutched her hips as they crested for long moments of shattering pleasure, before she collapsed, sobbing, on his chest.
Chapter 24
Helena stretched slightly, enjoying the weight of Malcolm’s arm as he lay across her waist, one hand still cupping her breast, his fingers lightly caressing it.
“I think this is quite my favorite room in Keighley Manor,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into her neck.
“You planned this,” Helena said, though not with any anger.
“Planned it? You were the one who forced me into the priest hole. How was I to know I’d wind up in Queen Elizabeth’s bedroom?”
“You came here today meaning to—to do this.”
“I came here today meaning to make sure Denby got up to no mischief with you. But I cannot deny I had other things on my mind as well, your beauty and warmth being not the least of them.”
Helena tried to sit up. “We cannot keep doing this.”
His arm around her tightened, holding her down with very little effort. “I will not have a repeat of yesterday, where you throw on your clothes and storm away. Helena, I mean to marry you. You know that. All you have to do is agree.”
“I cannot—,” she began.
“Spare me the list of the reasons you cannot marry me.” Malcolm rolled her over on her back and leaned over her, supporting himself on his arms, his legs between hers as he nestled his body into the juncture of her thighs. “See how well we fit together?”
She gave a tiny sigh of resignation. “Malcolm, you know how I feel.”
“Indeed, I do know how you feel, love—inside and out.”
Helena flushed. “You said you would not bring up marriage again until we have caught the free traders.”
“I said I would not propose again,” Malcolm pointed out. “I did not say I would never mention our inevitable union again.”
“I cannot become betrothed to you, for I have told Denby that he may court me.”
“Did you?” Malcolm kissed the spot where her shoulder met her neck. “I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.” She wiggled slightly and he laughed softly. “I will have to keep you very, very busy, so you have no time for Denby.”
“But we must learn more about his involvement with the smugglers,” she protested.
He gazed down at her. “You seem to think very little of me. You need not do this; I am quite capable of dealing with Denby.”
“It is not your place to protect me,” she said, annoyed.
“Perhaps not yet, but I wish to nonetheless. Believe me, Helena, I have known many men like him. He swaggers and blusters, but at heart he is a bully and a coward. That makes him dangerous. Cowards are never honest, and they will strike out when you least expect it. Denby cannot be trusted.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she demanded. “He tried to force me into marriage.”
“I am almost grateful to him for that, as it kept you unwed until I returned to England,” said Malcolm. “But I cannot forgive him for making you miserable. Believe me, Helena, he will pay for it. But you need not be involved.”
“You’ve never asked me what happened.”
“I’ve no need to.” Malcolm kissed his way down her chest to one breast, which he nipped at teasingly. “I know you would never lower yourself to touch a worm like him, and that he must be crushed so he cannot harm you again. I don’t need to know anything more.”
Helena looked perplexed. “I thought you were pursuing Denby in order to stop the smugglers.”
He smiled down at her. “If you wish to stop the free traders, I will am willing to help. But Denby—no, my dear, that is another matter altogether.”
As she pondered his words, Malcolm glanced up at the window. “It’s early afternoon. When does Arthur return?”
Helena squeaked and tried to sit up, and this time Malcolm let her.
“Afternoon!” she exclaimed jumping off the bed. “He should be home soon, and the servants must wonder where I am.”
“I imagine Chalmers is confused, at any rate,” said Malcolm. “We were in the drawing room, and then I wasn’t and you were and now, well, neither of us are.” He swung himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and stretched with an easy grace, his long muscles sliding under his skin, golden hair glinting on his chest. Helena stopped and watched, transfixed.
Malcolm caught her gaze with his, and she was shaken by the desire she saw there. He smiled.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, and she realized that what she had seen in his eyes was reflected in hers. “Or I shall take you back to bed,
and Arthur can go to the devil. You look very fetching just now.”
Helena glanced down to realize that she was completely naked, and turned away, embarrassed, searching for her chemise.
“I would help, but I think I prefer you this way.” Malcolm stood and walked over to her, taking her hands in his. “Hush,” he said when she opened her mouth to speak. He leaned down and kissed her gently.
“I must get dressed,” she said hesitantly, barely able to stop herself from leaping into his arms.
“I know. We can’t spend all day in bed, as much as I’d love to. But perhaps we should discuss tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“You could come to Wroxton,” he said, drawing her close, his fingers tracing a path down her spine. “We have many lovely rooms there as well, though it was built too late for Elizabeth to have slept in them.”
“Do you mean we should make an—an assignation?” asked Helena, faintly shocked.
“I don’t mean to deny myself your company, and depending on chance meetings is unsatisfactory. If you don’t come to me, I will have to find you, and I will, you know.”
“But to plan such a thing,” she murmured.
“You cannot take back what you have given me,” he pointed out. “You might as well enjoy it—which you clearly do.”
Helena stirred against him. “You shouldn’t do that if you want to get dressed,” he said.
“Lord Denby is to visit me tomorrow,” she said.
“Is he?” Malcolm looked at her enigmatically. “We shall see about that. In the meantime, may I expect you at Wroxton in the afternoon? To discuss business, of course.”
“To discuss business.” She smiled up at him. “I suppose I could be there. At two o’clock?”
“I look forward to it.” Malcolm released her, and, walking across the room, picked her chemise up off the floor. “Let me help you dress.”
Helena felt a pang of disappointment when he brought the garment to her and helped her slide it over her head. He smoothed it over her chest, his hands lingering on her breasts.
The Contraband Courtship (The Arlingbys Book 2) Page 18