Myriad reasons to flee flooded her brain, but when he suckled her neck and his hand sought the throbbing space between her legs, all reason took flight.
Chapter Twelve
Hadley Blanchard knew women. Had known many of them. Physically. Intimately. First schooled by cold and conniving Barbara, whose sexual appetite and experience put most courtesans to shame, he had furthered his education with passionate and hot-blooded Italian women, women who expected much of their lovers. The Italians, he’d quickly learned, had raised seduction from a pleasurable diversion to an art form, with subtlety being the hallmark of a connoisseur. With little else to occupy his time, Hadley had become a master of such erotic arts.
Mary, however, knew nothing at all and was helpless against his sensual assault.
He thought he’d had the brunt of his own lust in hand, until his gaze dipped to the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, and then returned to Mary’s face. She returned his gaze with a look of abject longing that stirred the blood to his loins in a sudden surge.
He cupped her sex with his palm and kissed her voraciously while with masterful and merciless fingers he circled, stroked, and teased. He had done this countless times and in innumerable ways—pleasuring women in coaches, in opera boxes, and once even under the table during a lengthy supper party.
Deftly and swiftly he brought her to a shuddering, whimpering climax, watching it unfurl in her eyes, the desire, the shock, and finally the euphoria—and he reveled in it, for Mary in the full flush of rapture as he stole her innocence was an utterly enthralling sight. Her honest and ingenuous response stole the very breath from his body.
She came apart in his arms, sobbing out his name as her body racked with convulsive tremors. The sheer force of her climax filled Hadley with eagerness for the moment she would fully embrace her sensuality; and when she gazed afterward into his eyes in speechless wonderment, Hadley was moved in a strange and unsettling way.
…
Mary was utterly shaken, devoid of words, thoughts, or even bones in her body as they lay side-by-side on the grass, drying in the warm sun. She had entered the pool in girlish innocence never knowing that she would emerge with the beginnings of a woman’s knowledge. Yet following the rapture, she felt strangely confused and somehow incomplete.
She still couldn’t comprehend what he had done to her. For a time she had lost all sense of herself, yet the realization struck her that he had stopped short of taking her virginity. Wasn’t that his design? If not, what did he want from her?
After a while, they donned their outer clothing over damp undergarments and joined Jenny, who had laid out a picnic in the cool shade of an ancient oak commanding a view of the cascade. It was a veritable feast of cold roasted fowl that Mary thought might be pheasant, a variety of fruits, cheeses, and sumptuous pastries. Mary only picked and refused to meet his gaze while oblivious to her distress, Lord Hadley enjoyed his fill, along with a bottle of wine.
Now he napped against the tree, sprawled in a posture of perfect peace. But the sun indicated that the afternoon was already well advanced, and they still had at least a two-hour drive back to Hanover Square. While she hated for this day to end, Mary had promised to return in time for supper with Sir Richard and would surely need time to freshen and change.
“It must have been that wine that has put him out so soundly,” Jenny interrupted her thoughts with a sly smile.
“Mayhap,” Mary replied, biting her lip. “I do hate to wake him until we must. Jenny, do you suppose you could locate James and the coachman at Bushy House, and have them bring the carriage to us?”
“Aye, miss,” Jenny said. “I can find my way right enough.”
“Very well then. I think I’ll just let him rest a bit longer.”
“I’d wager he’ll rouse soon enough after I’m gone,” Jenny giggled behind her hand, and then picked up her skirts to trip across the green toward Bushy House.
…
Cheeky baggage! Hadley had to suppress a chortle of his own at the maid’s parting remark. A knowing one was that little wretch, but then again she had proven an excellent co-conspirator. Experience had taught him the value of a cooperative ladies maid in a seduction.
While he hadn’t known precisely how the last hour would play out, had Jenny not departed, James would soon have come for her under some creative ruse. He’d been instructed to distract Jenny for at least an hour, not that it would be any hardship on the man based on the clandestine looks and sly smiles the two servants had exchanged earlier in the day.
With his head tilted against the tree trunk, Hadley stole glimpses of Mary through barely cracked lids. The frolic in the pool had done much to prepare the way, for he had roused her passion and allowed it to simmer. He could have taken her in the pool, and had been sorely tempted to do so, but he sought more than that. He demanded her full and complete capitulation. So now he waited for her to take the next step.
She studied him, hands on hips, worrying her lower lip, and then seemed to come to a decision. She reached out to jostle his foot. Damn! That craven act afforded no opportunity at all. But then her hand halted. She glanced back at his face and he swore he heard her sigh—the wistful sound of desire. Now how much further would she dare to take this? He didn’t have to wait long. She ventured so close he could detect the faint lavender fragrance that scented her hair, and the soft sough of her breath wafting over his skin.
No, his intuition hadn’t failed. He strongly suspected she would now embrace a properly managed seduction. Come along little puss, he silently encouraged, and I will be delighted to oblige you with the most intimate of kisses.
…
Mary knew she should rouse him. The coach would surely arrive soon, but he seemed to be sleeping so peacefully…and deeply. His countenance was relaxed, almost boyish in repose. Who was this man who had so many different faces? She had tried for days to puzzle him out, yet he remained an utter conundrum.
The fluttery feeling returned to her stomach when her gaze roved over his face, the almost obscenely thick lashes, the delectable dimple in his chin, his sensuous mouth. He had such a beautiful mouth. How she loved the feel of his warm soft lips.
An impulse sluiced through her to kiss him, just a brush of her lips to his. The compulsion to act was as palpable as a physical ache. Akin to Eve in the Garden of Eden, she had tasted the fruit of passion and now hungered for more.
As she stared at him Mary realized once more just how lost, how hopelessly infatuated, she was. She wanted him, but desperately, wanted him to reciprocate her feelings. These mad thoughts careened with her innate good sense until Mary finally shook them off. No. This ridiculous obsession must end. No good could ever come of it.
Determined only to wake him, Mary lowered herself to the ground by his side to give him a gentle shake, but the moment she placed her hands on his shoulders, he raised his lids to reveal dark, sleep-drugged eyes—eyes that dropped to her mouth and fixed there.
Mary hovered in uncertainty, forgetting to breathe. Yet he did nothing, made no move, as if he compelled her, by force of will alone, to acknowledge her own desire. Unwittingly, her hand drifted to his face, and her fingertips brushed over his mouth. He parted his lips and she closed her eyes, relishing the tantalizing twin sensations of his warm breath and soft mouth.
…
It was the most innocent of caresses and Hadley couldn’t contain the urge to taste her. But when he flicked out his tongue, she withdrew as if stung—only to bring her fingers to her own lips. Most telling indeed.
Her gaze darted again to his mouth. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips and he reached for her, cupping her nape in gentle encouragement. She closed the distance, inch by tentative inch, shutting her eyes on a sigh as her mouth lightly skirted over his.
He parted for her but remained passive, letting her explore. She grew bolder, slanting her head, and kissing him again, nibbling at his mouth, drawing his lower lip between her teeth and sucking on it, before offeri
ng a soft stroke of her tongue. Her passion, like the bloom of a hothouse flower, was delicious in its unfurling.
He pulled her onto his lap and cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs and opening his mouth to her kiss. Their tongues met and tangled, and then he took control, deepening the kiss, transforming it from her tentative exploration into his possession. He devoured her mouth with lips, teeth, and tongue, with each new stroke and every touch firing the passion he’d awakened, fueling her burgeoning desire into a roaring flame. Hadley had set out to seduce her, had already taken her to heaven with his hands, and now he would sate her in the most intimate and mutually satisfying way. He lowered his head to suckle her breast.
“Please Hadley,” she whimpered, arching into his hands and all but begging for his possession. She ground against his pulsing cock and his barely contained lust took hold of him. Thick, hot, and heavy, it flared, heating his blood and blurring his mind. While distracting her with his mouth, he snaked a hand under her skirts, stealing up the length of her thighs. He found and parted her nether lips, gloriously slick with her arousal. He groaned with the ache to be inside her, engulfed in that sweet, wet, feminine heat.
But then he made a fatal error.
In the face of Mary’s surrender, when she burned white hot, with her breaths shortened to desperate pants, and need racking quivers through her body—he looked into her face. And in the depths of her green and gold-flecked gaze, he saw honesty, trust, yearning, and something else he refused to identify staring back at him. The searching look in her eyes sent an agonizing jolt through him.
Bloody hell! He was completely undone! Hadley withdrew from her with a muttered curse and the awareness of a baffling compulsion to protect her—from himself!
“Why?” she asked, her voice almost a sob.
“I think you don’t know what you ask,” he replied thickly. “Lust is the most potent of all potions, my dear. It is intoxicating in the extreme and over-indulgence can cloud the mind and confuse the emotions.” Good God! Was that his voice spouting ludicrous platitudes?
But Hadley knew of what he spoke, for lust was his boon companion, and sex, a function akin to eating and drinking. He was accustomed to treating his lust most generously, feeding it frequently, and ensuring it was well sated–for Hadley had known many lovers.
He’d exchanged heated whispers and meaningless declarations more times than he could possibly count. He’d been with so many women that he’d forgotten most of their names, and the majority of their faces were now just a vague amalgamation in his distant memory. Most had been wealthy, and some had even been beautiful, and he’d given them all pleasure and taken his own. Without fail. And without emotional ties of any kind.
In all those years, with all those lovers, he had never been affected outside the momentous moment of physical release. Even the word ‘release’ signified that his lovers had no further claim on him beyond that rapturous act. But now here he was with his grand seduction scheme cast aside, his resolve shattered, and long dormant emotions threatening to burst out of him.
She gazed at his face, soft and sweet, with her very heart beating in her eyes. “Lust? Is that what this is?” She placed his hand over her racing heart. “Is it only lust that causes my breath to catch and my chest to ache when I simply look at you?” She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his palm, an artless act that had a startling affect.
Feeling unbalanced and terrorized, Hadley closed his eyes in an effort to shut her out, but the insidious and unwanted flare of feeling would not be ignored. He reasoned in desperation that abstinence was his trouble, why he was so bloody unsettled. His brain and body had disconnected, befogged by unsated lust. It was a vicious cycle, for he could not be free of his desire until he had her, yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to follow through.
Damn it all! He could not, would not, let this happen again. He had brought her here for a purpose. He would not allow his emotions to govern his will.
Seeking to recover his lost equilibrium in the familiar—raw carnal pleasure, Hadley lowered her to the ground and descended upon her, pressing his thigh between her legs, driving them apart. He savaged her mouth with a bruising kiss that crushed her lips against her teeth, plundering her with his tongue, thrusting deeply, ruthlessly—just as he would enter her. He could taste the coppery tang of blood, but she lay quiescent beneath him—proof of her surrender. Not that he cared any longer. This game of subtle seduction was over. She had offered and he would take now. Newfound conscience be damned.
While one hand snaked beneath her petticoat, his other cupped and squeezed her breast. He lowered his mouth there, rooting, seeking, suckling, even as he sought the wet heat between her legs. He fumbled with his buttons, freed his throbbing prick, and slid his hands up her thighs, spreading her wide, and positioning his hips to impale her.
“No!” She cried. Thrashing and squirming, she scuttled away wild-eyed and trembling. “Not like this!”
Her violent protest jarred him back to his senses. Bloody Hell! He was coming unraveled. “I warned that you played with fire, didn’t I?” Yet he was the one burning. He was also fully engorged, throbbing for release, and still struggling for control. He willed control of his ragged breathing and calm to the heart that hammered a deafening tattoo in his ears.
“But I never imagined you would—that’s not the way I thought—you know that’s not what I wanted!”
“Then you must learn to take more care what you ask, for it may be much more than you bargained for.”
…
Even as she protested, Mary doubted herself. She had wanted him. Madly. Desperately. But then inexplicably his tenderness had vanished, replaced by something almost akin to rage. She couldn’t comprehend it. Though it was he who had coaxed and tempted her in the pool, and it was he who had bestirred her desire, making her crave things she shouldn’t, it seemed now that he wished to punish her for it.
“Mayhap the appropriate words failed you, but your body spoke, indeed cried out, most clearly.” He reached out and grazed his fingers, still damp with her essence, over her lips. “There it is, Mary,” he said, low and dark. “You wanted this. You cannot deny the proof of it. Taste it, my sweet. Taste your own desire.”
She gaped at him, wondering what he expected. This exchange was so far beyond her experience that she couldn’t summon the appropriate response. Revulsion? Mortification? Did he mean for her to recoil in horror and disgust? Was that what she was supposed to do?
His crude act was shocking, yet it was also strangely and wickedly arousing. He stared at her with his chest still heaving, and she realized he found it so too. Matching his stare, Mary darted her tongue over her lips to taste the salty sweet essence he had wrought from her body.
…
Hadley wrestled with his guilt. He had nearly ravished her and now tried to drive her away. But instead of fleeing like any frightened virgin should, she defied him! As if testing his last shreds of restraint, her gaze flickered over him and then she did exactly as he’d commanded.
Sweet Jesus! It was at once the most innocent and erotic gesture and it sent a racking shudder of rampant lust raging straight back to his cock. He clamped his eyes shut on a groan, feeling he must have satisfaction or die. “I’m sorry. Come back to me, Mary.”
“No,” she whispered. “Just stay away from me. I don’t even know who you are. It’s as if you are two different men inhabiting the same body.”
He could hardly disagree with her, because that’s precisely how he felt! Damn it all! What was wrong with him? Less than an hour ago, he’d had her eating out of his hand. He should have had her writhing and moaning beneath him by now, but he couldn’t have bungled it more if he’d tried. He couldn’t understand what devil had taken possession of him, but then he acknowledged it had all begun to come apart, or more accurately, he had begun to, the moment she laid his hand over her heart. “Is it only lust that causes this ache in my chest when I simply look at you?”
“I wanted to take you, Mary and I could have, but I didn’t. Do you understand that?” How could she, when he didn’t comprehend it himself?
“I only know that you are perhaps not the brute you pretended to be.”
“All men are brutes, my dear,” he answered with a cynical twist of his lips. “It just takes different circumstances for the beast to emerge.” And his had sprung forth like a rabid wolf.
“And what are you now?” Mary asked with well-deserved suspicion.
Damned if he knew!
“Why did you bring me here? What do you really want from me?”
He had brought her here for a well-choreographed seduction. He had planned to show her pleasure and take his own. He had not expected her to move him in this damnable way. “What do you think I want?” he asked.
“My fortune,” she answered woodenly. “You thought to seduce me for it.”
“Yes. I had premeditated your seduction. It is why I brought you here, but whatever else you think, Mary, my desire for you is very real and has nothing to do with your money. I would still want to bed you, were you penniless.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“No? Do you recall our first meeting in the music room? I think I set out to seduce you almost from that moment we met, and that was well before I knew of your wealth.”
Mary stared in disbelief. “But why?”
He emitted a mirthless laugh. “I am confounded to understand it myself. Perhaps I’ve developed an aberrant desire to despoil innocence.”
Mary scrambled to her feet and brushed the grass from her petticoats while she endeavored to compose herself. “I think this entire day has been nothing but a game to you! Has it been diverting, my lord, to see how easily you could persuade the naïve country girl to lift her skirts? But you have indeed won, for you could have claimed your prize only a moment ago.”
Treacherous Temptations Page 10