Two Sinful Secrets

by Laurel McKee

  “What did you do after?”

  “I found the theater again. It’s always been what I come back to in the end.”

  Sophia closed her eyes against a sudden wave of longing. “I don’t think I have anything like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “A home. An anchor.”

  Dominic was quiet for a long moment. Sophia wondered if he had drifted to sleep when he suddenly spoke again. “What was your marriage like?”

  “I don’t really like talking about myself,” Sophia said with a laugh. “My marriage was just a mistake.”

  “What sort of mistake?”

  “My reasons for marrying Jack were almost entirely the opposite of yours with Jane. I knew very well it was no way to a stable, respectable future.”

  “Then why did you do it?” Dominic asked. He sounded as if he genuinely wanted to know.

  But Sophia wasn’t going to tell him the truth—that after her encounter with him at the Devil’s Fancy, she had been feeling even more reckless. “Jack was a half-pay officer, very handsome and dashing. He came from a respectable enough family, but there was no money there, no estate. My family could not approve of him. I met him out riding at the park one day, and he flirted with me. He was so charming. And when he wanted to call on me and my mother forbade it, I couldn’t resist. So I started writing to him in secret.”

  “It sounds like a play,” Dominic said. He seemed amused rather than shocked by her tale.

  “It was a young girl’s romantic folly, that’s all. I just took it much too far.”

  “Were you sorry you married him?”

  “At first I was. After the excitement of the elopement and going to live abroad, I realized that housekeeping on almost no money was not much fun. And Jack was quite fond of his drink. That was what killed him in the end. We had only been married a few months.”

  “But you’re not sorry now?”

  Sophia thought about his words for a moment. “No, I’m not. I’ve learned so much about myself now. I’ve learned I can be strong when I must. I sometimes do wish I had a family like yours, Dominic. But I do well enough on my own.”

  “Do you think you’ll marry again?”

  “Probably not,” she said with a laugh. “And I think we have talked enough for tonight. You need your rest.”

  “I’m not so tired,” he protested. “I want to hear more.”

  Sophia propped herself up on her elbow to study his face. She could see that, despite his protests, he was struggling to stay awake. His eyes were closed, and she could see the strain of everything that had happened that night in the lean lines of his face.

  “Sleep now,” she said. “I’ll tell you more tomorrow, though I fear there is little more to say about my pitiful marriage.”

  Dominic nodded, and as Sophia watched, he slowly drifted down into sleep. Despite her tiredness, though, she couldn’t find rest herself. She lay there as the candle sputtered lower and lower, listening to Dominic’s breath become deep and even in sleep. At least he could rest and start to mend.

  She reached for a book on her bedside table, an English novel she had not had time to begin yet, and started reading as she kept vigil over Dominic. He slept for a time as she lost herself in the story, a romantic tale of pastoral love between a marquess in disguise as a shepherd and a pretty, virtuous milkmaid. Sophia thought it would make a good play for Dominic.

  But as she replaced the burned-down candle, Dominic started to mutter in his sleep. Sophia turned back to him just as his fist shot out, and he shouted an incoherent curse.

  “No, Dominic!” she cried. “You’ll open your wounds again.”

  She tried to pin his arms down, half-lying on top of him, but he was too strong for her. In his nightmare, he had no gentleness or care. He tossed her off and she landed hard on the floor.

  As Sophia pulled herself to her feet, she glimpsed the tied-back curtains at the window and had an idea. She had to keep him from hurting himself all over again. She took the gold cords from the hooks of the draperies and came back to the bed to resolutely press him down to the mattress.

  He still cried out in his sleep, obviously having a terrible dream, but Sophia straddled him and held his arms down with her legs. She took first one hand, then the other, and tied them as tightly as she could to the bedposts.

  When she finished she was exhausted with the effort, but he seemed quieter. He fell back down into sleep, still frowning but not shouting out. Sophia lay down beside him and tumbled into a troubled sleep of her own, Dominic bound at her side.

  It’s too bad he’s asleep, she thought ruefully as the darkness closed around her. Otherwise it could be rather fun.

  From the Diary of Mary St. Claire Huntington

  My brother Nick has come to visit, and he did indeed bring news. He has recently been at Court himself, and he thinks he knows the reason why the Duke of York is coming to visit. The duke has recently found himself in need of funds, and he has become involved in a plan to raise money on foreign notes. I cannot understand it myself, but Nick is very excited about the idea. He has always been in need of more coin himself.

  I admit that anything that has royal approval would appeal to my John, but I can’t help but feel some disquiet at this idea. Yet I will not be consulted, and I must finish the preparations for the visit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sophia, Sophia. Untie me.”

  “What…” Sophia pulled herself up out of sleep at the sound of Dominic’s voice. She rolled onto her side to find that he was awake now, his eyes open and bright, free of the nightmares that had caused her to bind him to the bed. But his hands were still tied.

  She smiled and sat up slowly to swing one of her legs over his hips so she straddled him again. “I’m so sorry, Dominic, but I had to tie you. You were thrashing around too much with your nightmares.”

  “I am awake now,” he argued, watching her with narrowed eyes.

  “Are you? I’m not quite sure…” Sophia slowly leaned over to kiss the side of his neck. She parted her lips and savored the sweet-salty taste of him, the way his breath turned harsh at her touch.

  His body grew tense under hers. “Untie me,” he demanded. “Now.”

  Sophia laughed and reached up to loosen the cords around his wrists. “Are you sure you want me to let you go just yet? There’s so much else we could do…”

  Before she could say anything else, he rose to meet her and his mouth swooped down over hers. Open, hot, hungry, as if he wanted to devour her. The thought flickered through her mind that he must be still dreaming, but as always when she was with him, it awakened something deep inside her, that flame of longing and pure need. When he kissed her, he swept her away on a river of fire, swept her away to her true self.

  Sophia opened her lips to his and drew her tongue over his. His taste filled her, brandy and darkness, and she moaned.

  As they kissed, deeper, hungrier, their tongues entwining, she laid her hands flat on his hard shoulders and felt the damp heat of his skin. He groaned deep in his throat, and his hands fisted in the ropes as if he wanted rip her chemise off her.

  His passion made her feel bold. She slid her caress lower, slowly, savoring the delicious way his nearly-naked body felt against hers. So strong, so hard, so hot. This was what she craved, what she needed. It made her feel alive at last.

  She traced her fingertips over his flat nipples and felt them pebble under her touch. She scraped the edge of her thumbnail over one, and he growled low in his throat. She pressed slightly harder, hard enough to give just the slightest edge of pain. His body shuddered, but he went on kissing her as if he was starved for the taste of her.

  Sophia slid her touch even lower, feeling every inch of his taut, damp chest, his bare skin. He felt like hot satin stretched over iron muscles, and the light whorls of golden hair tickled her palms. She dipped the tip of her smallest finger into his navel before she moved even lower to the band of his trousers.

  And suddenly she
felt her newfound boldness, the temptress inside her, flee as his rock-hard erection brushed against her hand. She drew away.

  “Fuck it, Sophia, don’t stop now,” he whispered fiercely as his mouth tore away from hers. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her jaw and the soft curve of her throat. He bit at her there, drawing her skin lightly between his teeth.

  Sophia gasped and let her head fall back as she caught at his shoulders. His mouth opened on the pulse that beat frantically at the hollow of her neck. He licked at it, swirling the tip of his tongue just there.

  “Dominic!” she cried. She felt his hand twist in the loose braid of her hair and he wound its length around his wrist as if he would bind her to him.

  He didn’t raise his head. His open mouth swept over her collarbone, the little hollows just at her shoulders, until the tip of his tongue traced the upper swell of her breast. The edge of his teeth scraped over her tender skin, and her hand curled against him.

  “You like that?” he whispered.

  “Do you like this?” Sophia moved her hand lower and lower, a slow slide until she covered the hard ridge behind the wool fabric. She slid her fingers down in a soft caress until he groaned. She pressed the pad of her thumb to that sensitive spot just at the head of his penis, and he seemed to grow even harder in her touch. She reached up and untied his hands, longing to feel his touch on her.

  “Sophia,” he whispered darkly. Suddenly he pulled her chemise over her head, tearing her hand away from him. She knelt on the bed in front of him, her body naked for a man as it hadn’t been in so long. Not since those first heady days of her marriage to Jack. A wave of sudden cold shyness swept over her as she remembered how many women Dominic must have seen this way, women taller, thinner, with bigger bosoms than hers. Lack of confidence had never been something that troubled Sophia, but she had never cared so much what a man thought of her before.

  When he just looked at her with those beautiful green eyes, silent, she tried to turn away and reach for her discarded chemise. But his hands were already on her again, and he spun her back into his arms.

  “So beautiful, Sophia,” he said roughly as his head lowered to her breast. “You are so damnably beautiful.”

  Sophia smiled. Yes—when he looked at her and touched her like this, that strange shyness fled, and she felt beautiful again, in a way she hadn’t in so long. Desirable. Wanted, and not in that way she had felt her beauty used in gaming rooms with Jack, as a commodity, a distraction. Truly beautiful. As his mouth closed hard on her nipple, drawing her in deep, her head fell back and her eyes closed. She felt the braid of her hair fall down her back, and the heat of his lips on her aching breast. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her whole body, which had felt frozen and numb for too long, roared back to burning life again.

  He covered her breast with his palm, his fingers spread wide to caress her. One fingertip brushed over her engorged nipple, and a cry burst from her lips. She felt him smile against her, just before his teeth bit down lightly.

  She reached desperately between their bodies to unfasten his trousers and push them down over his lean hips. His hard cock sprang free against her abdomen, and as she held it naked in her hand at last he groaned. His teeth tightened on her nipple before he arched his head back to stare up at her.

  Sophia looked down into his eyes and saw that they were burning and dark, the green almost swallowed in black lust. She bent to kiss the side of his neck, to bite at him as he had with her. He tasted salty and sweet, intoxicating.

  As she kissed him, she ran her open palm up his penis to its swollen tip. There was a drop of moisture there, and she caught it on her finger to spread it up again, slow, steady, hard. Dominic’s hands suddenly tightened on her backside, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he dragged her even closer. Her hand dropped away from him, and he slowly pressed the tip of his cock against the soft nest of damp curls between her thighs. He moved up and down, lightly teasing at her swollen cleft.

  “Dominic,” she whispered against his neck.

  “So wet, so hot,” he answered, in a voice so deep she didn’t recognize it. He pulled her flush against his hips, and then suddenly they tumbled back together to the bed. He came down on top of her, his hips between her spread legs, his lips taking hers in another wild, desperate kiss.

  Sophia wrapped her legs around his waist and arched up into him. He was large, strong, and completely overwhelming. She felt surrounded completely by his heat and power. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She tore her lips from his kiss and tilted her head back to try to gulp in a breath, to try to find a particle of sanity. Her hands dug into his shoulders as if she would push him away—or cling to him.

  Dominic seemed to sense something was wrong. His hands slid around her waist, and in one swift movement, he lay on his back with her on top of him. She straddled him, her legs tight to either side of his lean hips. He stared up at her with an almost feral gleam in those extraordinary eyes, as if he was so hungry he would devour her. Yet he made no move; his body was taut and still with perfect restraint.

  Sophia braced her hands on his chest, letting him support her. She slid them down, a slow, hard glide over his warm skin. He felt tense under her caress, as if he waited for what she wanted to do. It made her want him even more when she saw he would give her control like that.

  She reached up and released the tie on the end of her braid to shake her hair free as she smiled down at him. A muscle tightened in his jaw, but his stare never wavered from her face. She took his hands and moved them from her waist to hold them to the mattress. She leaned down and laid her open mouth on his naked chest. His hands jerked but he didn’t push her away.

  She tasted him with the tip of her tongue, swirling it lightly over his flat, brown nipple. It hardened under her kiss, and she felt him draw in a sharp breath of air. She nipped her teeth over him.

  Surely she would always remember this, no matter what came tomorrow. It was like a dream, a lustful fantasy before she had to go back to her real life. His taste, his smell, the way his body felt as it slid against hers—she would remember it all.

  She licked at the indentation along his hip, that enticing masculine line of muscle that dipped toward his erect cock. She breathed softly over the base of his penis, touched him once with her tongue, and sat upright atop him again.

  “Witch,” he groaned. “How do you do this to me?”

  “What do I do to you?” Sophia closed her eyes and laid her hand lightly between her bare breasts. Slowly, very slowly, she traced her touch down her own body, over her abdomen, until her fingers lay over the place that was so wet for him she ached with it. She slid one fingertip between her damp folds, and then his perfect stillness shattered.

  “Bloody hell, Sophia!” he shouted. Her eyes flew open as his hands closed hard around her hips. He pulled her body up along his until his mouth closed over her womanhood just where her hand had been. She knelt over his face as his tongue plunged deep into her.

  Sophia cried out and grabbed the scarred wood of the bed as his mouth claimed every intimate part of her. His fingers dug into her buttocks as he kissed her, licked her, tasted her skillfully. She was no longer the one in control, but she didn’t even care. She only wanted his mouth on her, his touch.

  His tongue flicked at that tiny spot high inside her, and she moaned. One of his hands let go of her, and he drove one long finger into her as he kept licking. He moved it slowly in and out, pressing, sliding, until she cried out his name over and over.

  “Oh, Dominic,” she moaned. “How do you do this to me?”

  “Just let go,” he whispered against her. “Let go for me…”

  Another finger slid into her, and she felt the pressure building up low in her abdomen. He had done this to her in that warm, dusty hut, too—it didn’t seem to matter where they were, who they were, only that they were a man and a woman drawn together by a deep need. That heat built and built, expanding inside her like a fire out of control.
Her whole body seemed to soar upward. Dominic’s tongue pressed harder as his fingers curled inside her, and she shattered completely. She screamed out loud and clutched at the bed to keep from falling.

  But he wasn’t done. He lifted her off him and pushed himself up to sit against the bedpost. He drew her body down until she straddled his hips again and was spread open over his iron-hard cock.

  “Ride me, Sophia,” he commanded.

  She could hardly focus through her pleasure-dazed mind. She stared down at him as she held onto his sweat-slick shoulders. His eyes were still dark with lust, and she could smell herself on him. It made her want him, need him, all over again.

  She raised herself slightly until she felt his tip nudge at her opening, and then she held on to him tight as she slid down. Lower, lower, until he was completely inside her. His head fell back as his hands closed hard on her waist.

  “Sophia,” he groaned. “You’re so tight, so perfect. I can’t…”

  She raised up again and sank back down, over and over, faster, until she found her rhythm. His hips arched up to meet hers, and they moved together, harder, faster. Until she felt her climax building all over again.

  She leaned back and braced her hands on his thighs as he thrust up into her. She closed her eyes and saw whirling, fiery stars in the darkness, exploding around her in showers of green and white as she cried out his name. He shouted out a flood of incoherent curses as his whole body went rigid. She felt him go still deep inside her as he let go and soared free with her.

  Sophia sobbed and let herself fall to the bed. Her legs were too weak to hold her up any longer. She trembled as she let the bone-deep exhaustion claim her. The ceiling above her spun around and around as she tried to catch her breath, to make sense of what madness had just happened.

  Beside her, Dominic had collapsed to the pillows. They didn’t touch, but she could feel the heat of his body close to hers. His breath sounded rough and uneven, and suddenly she remembered the injuries that had brought him to her door in the first place. She sat up to frantically examine him, worry replacing the languor of sexual pleasure. Had she hurt him? What craziness had come over them to do something like that?