by Burke, Darcy
He pressed his hand on her pelvis and held her down as he licked along her crease. The sensation of his tongue against her gave her another jolt, but he didn’t let her move. He pinned her down, captive to his mouth. And oh, the things he did with it.
Lavinia never could have imagined such pleasure. What he’d done the other day had possessed her mind and body so completely that she never thought she’d find its equal. But this was somehow better. His favorite, he’d said. God, it was becoming her favorite too.
Tension built in her muscles as his fingers slid into her channel, and he sucked on her flesh. Lights danced behind her eyes as she cast her head back against the chaise.
He took his hand from her pelvis and clasped her thighs, draping her legs over his shoulders as he buried his tongue deep inside her. Her orgasm exploded through her body, tightening everything as wave after wave of ecstasy enveloped her. She cried out mindlessly, her legs quivering as he held her through the storm.
Slowly, she came back to herself and started to cringe. She was spread so wantonly before him… And why shouldn’t she be? She was to be his wife. And yet, she felt so exposed. Perhaps because he was still almost entirely clothed.
He sat back on his heels and looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with male satisfaction and lust. She propped herself up on her elbows. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?”
“I can’t go talk to your father naked.”
She flicked a glance down toward her spent body. “You think I can?”
His lips spread in a wicked grin. “No, but I do enjoy you like this. You have the most magnificent breasts.” He prowled up her body and cupped one, taking the nipple into his mouth. Desire poured through her again, as if she hadn’t just been swept away.
She pulled him down between her legs, and he groaned against her flesh.
“Lavinia, we should go.”
“This is twice now that you’ve given me pleasure, and I haven’t had a chance to reciprocate.”
He lifted his head and peered down at her. “Do you have the slightest idea what to do?”
She pursed her lips. “Given what I just did and your response, I’d say I have at least a slight idea. And that was nothing. Perhaps if I remove your clothing…” She plucked at the buttons of his waistcoat, and in her haste, one went flying. She followed its trajectory, then looked up at him with an apologetic smile as she pushed the garment from his shoulders. “Sorry.”
His gaze darkened, and he put a knee down between her legs to brace himself while he pulled his shirt over his head. “You want me, Lavinia?”
She stared up at his chest and ran her palms over his heated flesh. “Oh yes.”
“Then take me.”
Chapter 14
Man has no wit greater than her,
No judgment made, no slight or slur.
She is holy! Her words are might,
Yet silken, like sound taking flight.
-From An Ode to Lady Lavinia Gillingham
by The Duke of Seduction
“I have no idea what to do,” she said, “but I daresay I’ll work it out.” She pressed her lips to his chest and trailed her mouth to his nipple, where she licked a circle around it.
“Uh, yes. I daresay you will.” He barely ground the words out. How he’d managed to hold himself in check was a mystery to him. He’d nearly spilled his seed when her muscles had squeezed around his fingers, and she’d come apart in his mouth.
He might be a rake, but he was a rake on his knees, completely at the command of one woman. This woman.
His knee pressed against her heat, and she rotated against him, moaning softly against his chest. “How is it that I’m not satisfied after what you just did?” she asked with a soft innocence that would have made him laugh if he weren’t strung so damn tight. “Is it that you maybe aren’t very good at this?” He did laugh then, a strangled sound that didn’t particularly resemble amusement. “That can’t be right, for I did enjoy that immensely.” She’d been kissing and licking him between her words, driving him insane with her explorations. But now she stopped and peered up at him. “Am I, perhaps, insatiable?”
“God, I hope so.” With a grunt, he gripped the back of her neck and angled her head so he could kiss her, his tongue driving into her mouth hard and deep as lust spiraled through him.
She clutched his shoulders as her pelvis moved against him once more. He adjusted his knee, rubbing along her folds, and she gasped into his mouth.
He set her back, pulling away from her almost ruthlessly as he stood to tear his remaining clothes off. His boots landed in some nether region of the room, and he may have actually torn the fall of his breeches, but he didn’t care.
When he was nude in front of her, he watched as her gaze dropped to his cock. Her eyes glimmered with desire, and her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip.
It was enough—more than—to send him to the very edge.
He put his knee back between her legs, but lower between her thighs, and he clasped her sides, scooting her back up the chaise so her torso was elevated. “I would say we should wait until we are properly wed, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
She gripped his waist and pulled him down on top of her. “Lovely.”
He paused, looking into her dark eyes. “But I will always stop if you ask me to.”
“That’s nice to know, but the only thing I’m asking you now is to go faster, please.”
“Insatiable is probably accurate,” he murmured just before he kissed her.
She sucked his tongue into her mouth and proceeded to demonstrate her natural skill at kissing. He lost himself completely to the devilish things she was doing to his tongue.
And she managed to pull him into her so that his cock pressed at her opening. She moaned, her fingers digging into his hips as she rose up against him. White-hot need burst inside him, and he had to hold himself back.
He moved his hand between them and found her slick passage. He teased her flesh, arousing her so that her kiss deepened and her legs opened wider.
Gripping the base of his cock, he guided himself to her sex and slid gently into her sheath. She was wet satin and heat, and he glided inside with relative ease. He’d no idea what to expect with a virgin, having no experience with them. Oh, but the farther he moved into her, the tighter she became. He pulled his mouth from hers and groaned in ecstasy.
“Is this all right?” he managed to grit out.
“I think so. It feels…odd.”
“That is not encouraging.” Hell, he wasn’t going to last long. He needed to get himself under control. He pushed into her until he was fully inside, then took a deep breath, dropping his forehead against hers. “Just stay still a moment.”
“I thought we were supposed to move.” She brought her legs up and curled them around his waist. “Ooh, that feels better, you’re against that spot, and oh my. I don’t think I want to be still, Beck.” She began to move her hips, and his cock jerked inside her.
“Lavinia.” He pulled out of her, not quite all the way, and drove back in. He tried to go slow, but feared he was failing miserably. “I want this to be… pleasant for you.” He could barely speak.
“It’s quite pleasant,” she said, not sounding nearly as affected as he felt. “Do that again.”
He stroked out and in again. “That?”
“Oh yes, that. But faster. I keep asking you to go faster. Is that normal?”
“Yes, especially at first. Someday, we’ll go much slower, particularly when we aren’t in a rush to go see your father.”
She gasped. “Don’t mention him right now!”
God, what was he thinking? He wasn’t. She’d completely robbed him of coherent thought. He wanted to sink deep inside her body and lose himself completely.
So he did.
He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her with fierce hunger as he thrust into her relentlessly. He let himself go, and with every stroke, she met him with eager need. He wanted her
to come with him so badly, but he was very close.
He kissed along her jaw and snagged her earlobe with his teeth. “Come with me, Lavinia. I can’t hold back much longer.”
“Don’t hold back,” she rasped, clutching his backside and pressing her fingers into his flesh. “Take me where I need to go. Please.”
He moved faster, deeper. His balls tightened and blood rushed through him as his orgasm built to the peak. He lifted his head from her ear and shouted as he came, pouring his seed into her.
He wasn’t so mindless that he didn’t feel her muscles squeezing around him, bearing down as she came too. She whimpered softly, her lips pressed to his chest as he continued to move.
He slowed but didn’t stop, taking them both to the very end. When she quieted except for her breathing, he stilled. Then he started to pull back.
But she held him against her. “No, don’t go. Not yet. I just want…a moment.”
He kissed her damp forehead, her temple, her soft cheek. “Anything.”
They lay together, entwined, until their bodies had completely quieted. He felt her shiver and rose up. “Are you cold?”
“No, just changed, I suppose.” She gave him a saucy smile. “For the better.”
Relief relaxed his frame. He felt that way too. “I need to speak with your father, and then we have to find out what happened with Miss Lennox.” Her aborted wedding weighed in the back of his mind, even if it was entirely due to Sainsbury’s behavior, which, knowing his cousin’s reputation, wouldn’t surprise Beck.
He started to rise but paused. “Am I allowed to get up now?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
He stood, then helped her up. He pulled her close against him and kissed her, contemplating that he’d be able to do that anytime he liked after they were married.
Married.
He was going to marry this woman.
Fear and anticipation curled through him. He wouldn’t be alone. When he thought of his days filled with Lavinia, joy burst in his chest. He broke the kiss and pulled his head up from hers. “I want to play for you.”
Her cheeks were flushed, her breath short. “Yes. When?”
“Now. Just for a moment.” He moved away from her and swept up his favorite guitar. He strummed his fingers over the strings, then plucked out a few notes as she found her chemise and drew it over her head.
He started playing one of the songs he’d written in recent days—since he’d met her. One of the melodies Gage liked.
She stopped dressing and just stared at him, rapt.
When he was finished, she clapped, her eyes glowing. “Aren’t there words?”
“Yes, but I’m not a great singer.”
“Says who? Do you sing for as many people as you play for?”
He laughed at the sarcasm in her tone. “Your taunt is well placed, my lady. I shall sing for you another time.”
She grinned as she picked up her corset. “I shall look forward to it.” Her face fell into a frown. “How long do I have to wait to be alone with you again?”
His mind went blank. “Not long? The banns could be read tomorrow.” They could marry after the third Sunday.
“A fortnight seems an eternity,” she said, making the same calculation he had. “What if you tried to get a special license?” Her shoulder lifted. “I told you I was impatient.”
“Actually, I think you tried to tell me you were patient, but I’m beginning to see the truth of things.” He winked at her. “I can certainly try.” He moved to tighten her corset in place.
He focused on getting dressed lest he become distracted by her. His body was already stirring, and it wouldn’t take much for him to take her in his arms again.
She began to tighten her dress by herself, but he rushed to help her. “I can do that,” he offered.
“I did it myself earlier. I dressed entirely without my maid, actually. I was trying to sneak out.”
“How enterprising of you.”
When he was done, she turned to face him. “Is my hair a mess?”
Several locks had come loose. “It isn’t a mess…” He went to the door and called for Gage.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Beck stood in the door blocking Gage from seeing into the room. “Please bring a small looking glass?”
Gage’s expression was impassive, but Beck was certain he knew what had transpired. “Right away, my lord.”
After closing the door, Beck turned to see her clutching her gloves with a half frown.
He went to her and took her hand and brought it to his mouth so he could press a kiss against her wrist. “You need a mirror.”
She exhaled. “I suppose.”
Beck finished dressing—the tear in his breeches and his missing button weren’t at all detectable, but knowing he was flawed and that their desire had made him that way filled him with a perverted satisfaction—as Gage rapped softly on the door.
Answering the knock, Beck took the mirror from his butler and left the door ajar. “Come in and meet my bride, Gage. This is Lady Lavinia.
“Lavinia, allow me to present Gage, the finest butler in England.”
She smiled at him, perhaps a bit nervously, which he wasn’t used to seeing in her. Had he erred in introducing them at that moment? He’d definitely presented them in the wrong bloody order. He was absolutely mangling this.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Gage. Thank you for the mirror.” Her gaze fell to the glass in Beck’s hand, which he’d neglected to give to her.
He held it up for her so she could tidy her hair.
“The pleasure is mine, my lady,” Gage said. “Would you like me to send a maid to help you?”
“No, thank you.” She sent him a smile as she adjusted the pins in her hair and remade her coiffure. She glanced at Beck to indicate she was finished, and he handed the glass back to Gage.
Beck crossed the room to retrieve his hat. “I’ll be back later, Gage. I need to go and speak with Lord Balcombe.”
“Very good, sir,” Gage said with a nod. “I’ve today’s post when you return. There’s a letter from your sister, which I know you’ve been waiting for.”
Beck stopped cold before he reached Lavinia to escort her from the room. He’d written to Margaret after reading Helen’s letter from the box his stepmother had sent from Waverly Court. The need to read it nearly obscured everything else, but he had to see Lavinia home.
“I’ll read it later,” Beck said, anticipation curling through him as he guided Lavinia into the drawing room and back to the hall.
Gage rushed to open the door for them. “May I be the first to congratulate you both,” he said with a smile as they left.
Lavinia turned her head and thanked him. When they were on the pavement heading toward Grosvenor Square, she said, “I like your butler.”
“That’s good.” He began to think of what it might be like to share a house—his space—with someone and began to feel a bit strange. He blamed it on the letter awaiting him. He was desperate to read it.
They turned into Grosvenor Square and made their way toward Grosvenor Street. “Why are you expecting a letter from your sister?” Lavinia asked.
“I wrote to her about Helen. When I sent for the fossils I gave you, my stepmother sent everything that had been in the box, including a letter written by Helen. In it, she mentioned what Lady Abercrombie and Lady Kipp-Landon had said—that she would be better off dead. She also talked of a gentleman who’d danced with her. He gave her hope, and I wondered if Margaret might know who he was and what happened to take it away.”
“Take what away?” she asked softly. “Her hope?”
He nodded, remembering his petite sister with her gray eyes and dark hair. She’d possessed a sweet and gentle soul, with a very dry sense of humor few understood. “She died alone and sad.”
“How did she die?” Lavinia’s query held a weight of empathy.
His heart constricted. He struggled to find the words, despit
e having already told Felix the truth. “She was poisoned.”
Lavinia stopped near the corner of Park Street and turned toward him, her face suddenly pale. “Someone killed her?”
“No, they presumed she did it.”
Lavinia lifted her hand to her mouth as her jaw dropped briefly. “Oh, Beck, I’m so sorry. Why would she…do that?”
He started walking, gently urging her along. He didn’t want to stand there and talk about this in the street, particularly when they were perhaps already drawing attention as they were unchaperoned. “She was very unhappy. Desolate, really. She had no luck on the Marriage Mart—she was too shy and too quiet. She didn’t have any friends like you do.” His voice hardened.
“No, but she had enemies. Or at least others were cruel to her. I understand why you wrote that poem.” She stroked his arm as they turned onto Park Street.
She suddenly stopped walking, and her hand dug into his arm through his coat. She squinted down the street. “I think Sir Martin may be there already.”
He looked ahead to her house and saw a coach out front. “Damn and the devil. This is going to be awkward.”
“We can sneak in the back through the mews, and I’ll have you wait in the morning room.”
He looked down at her. “I can’t let you confront them alone.”
“Do you really want to come face-to-face with Sir Martin?”
His features creased in a slight wince. “Do you?”
“No, but I must,” she said with a hint of resignation. “I owe him an explanation.”
Beck couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. “And what will you tell him?”
She averted her gaze. “That we are better suited.”
He sensed she wanted to maybe say something else but didn’t press her. They were well and truly out of time. “No, we’ll go in the front door,” he said, looking at her in question. She nodded in response.
As they walked up to her door, he felt the tremor in her body. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered just before the door opened.