Trusting the Wolfe

by Lana Williams

It took a moment for her to realize his hand caressed her thigh, moving relentlessly up. There was no room for nerves now—only desire.

  “Open for me, Tessa. Please.” Then he returned his mouth to her breast, leaving her to wonder what he meant. Yet as his fingers smoothed the skin along her inner thighs, she understood.

  Nerves returned but desire demanded she comply.

  With a deep breath and feeling brazen, she shifted one leg to grant him what he requested. In that moment, she thought she’d be willing to give him anything.

  When his fingers touched the damp curls at the apex of her thighs, she gasped in surprise, shocked her body was capable of feeling such things.

  “A little more,” he requested, pressing kisses along her breast.

  She complied, only to cry out in surprise when he touched her again. “Marcus.”

  “I knew the moment I saw you how much passion you held inside you.” He lifted his head to hold her gaze then took her mouth with his as his fingers continued their exploration.

  With a gasp, she tipped her head back as hot need swept through her.

  “Yes, my sweet.” With one finger, he entered her body while still rubbing her slick folds. “Let go.”

  She frowned, not understanding what he meant. How could she possibly— Then something deep inside her coiled and burst with sensation, sending her body up with wave upon wave of heat. Her hips had a mind of their own as they rocked beneath his touch.

  He kissed her again, taking her soft cries as his own.

  Slowly she slid back down, shocked she was capable of such things. But as lovely as that had been, she wanted a deeper connection with Marcus. She wanted the heat of his skin against hers. “Marcus, I want to touch you.”

  “Yes.” Part groan, part moan, he lifted her and stood, his glittering, golden gaze holding hers. He walked toward the bed then let her slide down the length of him until she stood. With one arm still holding her, he threw back the covers.

  Tessa eased his shirt off his shoulders, frowning as she saw the scar of where he’d been stabbed. When she bent to kiss the mark, Marcus hissed in response.

  Emboldened by his reaction, she ran her hands along his sculpted chest, pressing kisses as she went. When she took his nipple in her mouth, he jerked back.

  “One moment,” he muttered, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached down to remove his shoes. Then he unfastened his trousers but left them on. With a hand on her chemise, he raised a brow. “May I?”

  She reached for the hem and drew the chemise slowly up over her head. As she did so, she felt his hands on her thighs, her hips, following the path of the chemise, up to her waist, the sides of her breasts. He was hidden from view as the fabric covered her face, heightening the sensation of his touch.

  He held the chemise in place for a moment, as though encouraging her to keep it there. Her breath caught as he kissed her breasts once more, giving each his full attention. His lips ventured lower to the spot between her ribs and lower still to her stomach. His hands moved down to massage her bottom which pressed her more firmly against his lips. When his fingers eased between the globes of her bottom toward the juncture of her thighs, she gave a soft cry, legs trembling. He touched her intimately as he kissed her stomach, and his fingers worked their magic.

  Unable to bear it, she tugged the chemise free, allowing it to fall to the ground. The sight of his dark head against her pale skin was erotic. She reached down to pull him up, wanting to give him a portion of the pleasure he was giving her.

  He took his time rising to play along the curves of her body with his lips. When at last he kissed her, she deepened it, desperate to show him how much she wanted him. Her hands roamed over the breadth of his shoulders, across his muscled chest, down the flat planes of his stomach to the top of his trousers. She pushed at the barrier and started to tug them down before he stopped her.

  “Hold,” he whispered and laid his forehead against hers for a moment. “You’ll have me ending before I begin.”

  She had no idea of what he spoke, only knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She kissed him again and felt his movements as he removed his pants.

  The hot hardness of him pressed against her, surprising her. She glanced down, shocked at the size of him. With timid fingers, she explored his length, amazed at the velvety hardness, noting how he trembled as she did so. But when she tried to envision the two of them becoming one, her mind rebelled the mechanics of it. How could it ever work?

  “Marcus,” she said, wanting to express her doubts before they took this any further.

  “Shh, my sweet.” He kissed her, gathering her in his arms to lift her once more and place her on the cool linens of the bed. He followed, using his knee to part her legs.

  His body was so hot against hers. His hands felt like they were everywhere, leaving no spot unexplored.

  She writhed with the feelings coursing through her, welcoming the ache that settled deep inside her.

  His kisses had her head spinning. His fingers danced along her skin. He touched her center and her hips rose under him.

  “I need you, Tessa. So much,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes.”

  He eased upward until the tip of his manhood pressed against her.

  Her eyes popped open in response. Already she could feel the invasion. When she thought of how big he was, she couldn’t quell her momentary panic.

  “Easy,” he coaxed as he pushed forward then paused then eased forward again. “So perfect.” He thrust into her, seating himself fully inside her.

  The sudden pain had her gasping, but only for a moment. It was the oddest feeling, to be one with another. To be one with Marcus. She shifted slightly, ready to explore this new sensation. He whimpered in response. She couldn’t help but move again, hoping it pleased him.

  “Slowly,” he said. “It’s been so long.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, he withdrew only to thrust again. The feeling was glorious. Her body seemed to know exactly what to do and her hips rose to meet his.

  He took her mouth once more before trailing kisses along her neck as she arched back. The weight of him felt so good, so right. She never wanted this to end, yet she could feel desire building relentlessly.

  “Marcus.” She said his name in demand as pressure spiraled deep within her.

  “Oh, yes,” he managed then reached down between them to touch her.

  The sensation was more than she could take. Fireworks lit behind her eyes as her body quivered.

  Marcus shuddered, his body convulsing with hers.

  Slowly they drifted back down. He kissed her again in that moment, long and slow, making her heart squeeze.

  What was this between them? She would’ve never guessed that she could feel so much. She swallowed back the tears threatening to clog her throat as realization dawned.

  How could love have come so swiftly when she’d guarded herself so carefully all these years?

  ~*~

  Marcus breathed deep to slow his pounding heart, but that didn’t seem to help. He waited for guilt to flood him now that he’d been disloyal to Mary’s memory.

  Instead, a sense of peace flowed through him. It made no sense, for not only had he taken Tessa, he cared for her. That was two strikes against him. The odd thing was that he was certain Mary would’ve liked Tessa.

  Tessa stirred beneath him, and immediately his body came to life. He withdrew from her, something he should’ve done before he’d climaxed. At least then there would’ve been less of a chance for a babe. But he’d been so enamored with her, so involved in the moment, that it hadn’t crossed his mind.

  Now what? He drew her into his arms and pulled the covers over them. Now he was even more certain that he wanted her in his life. Not just today, but in the future.

  “Tessa?” he whispered, his finger drawing a circular pattern on her bare shoulder.

  “Yes?”

  Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say the words and ask if sh
e’d agree to be his mistress.

  He’d thought his plan through carefully and intended to buy a house for her and her aunt in London. They could give the seamstress shop to someone else who might carry on the tradition of apprenticing willing girls to train them. But Tessa would no longer need to worry over things. She would never again live in fear of debtors pounding down her door. He would see to that.

  Perhaps now wasn’t the moment. That was all that bothered him. A better time would arise to make his offer.

  “Thank you,” he said and turned her head so he might kiss her once more. “That was a gift beyond measure.”

  She smiled up at him, those green eyes lighting something near his heart.

  He closed his eyes, the only thing he could think to do to keep his defenses in place. Marriage was out of the question. He couldn’t take such a risk. While he’d believed he had no heart left to give, he now realized that wasn’t true. Tessa had proved to him that he could still feel. But he wasn’t willing to open himself to anything more than simple affection.

  He hoped she would understand and accept that when he asked her to be his mistress. She deserved so much more, but that was all he could offer. He couldn’t survive loving and losing again.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered as sleep tugged at him. He pulled her even closer.

  Sleep claimed him before he realized that she hadn’t answered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Marcus woke slowly the next morning, stretching before he opened his eyes, realizing he’d had one of the best night’s sleep in some time. He frowned as he tried to determine what was different.

  Tessa.

  He reached for her only to feel the coolness of the bed linens beside him. When he opened his eyes, the only evidence of her was a hollow in the pillow beside his. All the candles were out and the fireplace dark. The faint light of morning was visible around the edges of the drapes.

  She must’ve returned to her bedroom in the middle of the night. Or rather, early this morning. When he’d reached for her during the night, her warm, soft form had proved impossible to resist. He’d woken her with kisses and caresses, her body responding to his before she’d even opened her eyes.

  The memory of it had him hardening once again. He could only shake his head. The passion he felt for her surprised him. While he and Mary had enjoyed the marriage bed, it hadn’t been like this. He supposed their friendship had taken precedence over passion.

  But with Tessa, he felt—

  He stopped abruptly, unwilling to put a name to it. With an oath, he tossed aside the covers, annoyed at what popped into his mind.

  Mary had taken his heart with her. He had no desire to feel the desolate emptiness that had hung over him after her death. Nay. It was too great a risk, even if he were capable of it.

  He washed quickly then dressed. Was Tessa already awake? Perhaps she was waiting for him downstairs. Surely she was an early riser.

  As he neared the dining room, the quiet murmur of voices had him slowing his steps. Of course. Tessa’s aunt would be awake as well. He did his best to school his features when what he truly wanted was to take Tessa into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  With a scowl, he entered the room.

  Tessa raised a brow at his expression but said nothing as she and her aunt rose.

  “Good morning, my lord,” Mrs. Davison greeted him with a smile and a curtsy.

  It annoyed him to no end when Tessa did the same.

  “Good morning,” he said, pushing back his dark mood. “I hope both of you ladies slept well.”

  “I did indeed,” Mrs. Davison said. “You have a lovely home. It’s kind of you to take us in for a few days.”

  The reminder of how very temporary this situation was did nothing to improve his mood.

  “As it is in part my doing that your safety is of concern, it’s the least I could do.” He held Tessa’s gaze, unable to read her green eyes.

  The ladies took their seats, and Samuel appeared at his elbow to pour coffee for him. The newssheet sat to the side, awaiting his perusal. He realized he took such things for granted. What were their mornings like compared to his?

  He shook off his thoughts. That didn’t matter. Certainly they came from a different world than he. But he could already tell how well Tessa would fit into his.

  Inviting her to become his mistress was asking much of her, he knew. It was incredibly selfish of him to consider it. But he wanted her in his life—needed her in his life—and having her as a mistress was as much as he could offer. She was an honorable, intelligent woman who threatened more than his peace of mind.

  Then why didn’t it seem like a satisfactory arrangement?

  His thoughts continued to circle, but the only solution that made sense was this one. Allowing her any closer held too much risk. If he was with her every day— The thought didn’t bear completing.

  While it was true he hadn’t ventured to London in the past year or two, that didn’t mean he couldn’t visit on a regular basis. If he wanted to expand his business interests here, he needed to pay more attention to them. The train made the trip quicker than ever before. He could easily come every other month without a problem.

  Would she agree to his suggestion? He watched as she ate her toast across the table. Even that simple act caused his desire for her to stir. Perhaps a gift to show his appreciation was in order. Something that would prove to her how generous he could be.

  Yes, that was just what he would do to convince her to agree. He needed to pay another call on his man of business and while he was out, he’d venture to the jeweler’s.

  Pleased with his plan for the day, he joined in the ladies’ conversation.

  ~*~

  Tessa spent the morning writing a letter to Molly to warn her of the dangers of the ploy she may have heard and offering to explain in person. Then she penned several messages to the ladies who were expecting to receive their altered gowns in the next two days to advise them of the delay. Some of the mending had been sent home with the girls who were capable of completing it on their own. They had been grateful for the chance to prove themselves and continue to earn money despite the temporary closing of the shop.

  After a footman had taken those to be delivered, she and Aunt Betty were given a tour of Marcus’s home by the housekeeper. The woman was quite friendly and seemed pleased to have guests after the length of time the house had been empty. Tessa was disappointed to learn how rarely Marcus came to London. Not that it mattered, she told herself. After the problem with the girls was solved and the men involved had been apprehended, she doubted she would ever see him again.

  Her heart ached at the thought. Last night had been unbelievable. The way Marcus made her feel, so cherished, had her hoping for what she never thought she wanted—a family. But he was an earl and she only a seamstress. Such things weren’t done.

  If only her heart would believe that.

  With her duties complete and Aunt Betty happily doing needlework, she decided to take a closer look at the books in Marcus’s library. It had been a long time since she’d read for pleasure.

  The masculine room suited Marcus with its large desk and red leather chairs. A small sitting area with winged chairs stood before the fireplace. Two walls held books from floor to ceiling. How would she ever choose?

  After spending well over an hour perusing the collection, which included books on land management, crop rotation, coal mining, poems, and several children’s stories, she finally settled on The Earthly Paradise by William Morris. The epic poem told of medieval wanderers who searched for a place of everlasting life.

  She settled into a chair in the library with the hope of learning a little more about medieval times. Obviously the tapestry in Marcus’s room as well as the story of his grandparents had more of an effect on her than she realized.

  The poem was quite enjoyable, but she decided it would be best savored in parts. In truth, she had trouble staying focused. All she could think about was Mar
cus’s return. She listened to every sound outside, but the house was well built and she heard little of the street noises compared to where she and her aunt lived.

  The library windows beckoned, and she moved to look outside. This side of the house faced a small garden rather than the street. As she turned away, her gaze caught on his desk, curious as to the few items on it. A frame held a small painting of a lovely, smiling woman. Somehow the artist made you want to smile with her. She must be someone special to Marcus if he kept the image on his desk where he’d see it each day when he was here.

  Her heart squeezed painfully as she remembered his hesitation when she’d asked if he was married. Surely he wouldn’t have brought her and her aunt to his home if that were true.

  With a sigh, she reminded herself to keep her balance while enjoying this brief time with him. This was all temporary no matter how much she wished otherwise.

  Book in hand, she left the library and found her aunt in the drawing room still working on her embroidery.

  “I’m surprised you don’t prefer to do something else today,” Tessa commented as she gave her aunt’s shoulder a squeeze and took a seat nearby.

  “It’s different when it’s for my pleasure rather than someone else’s.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Although Tessa wasn’t certain she’d miss it if she never picked up a needle and thread again. Guilt filled her at the thought.

  The remainder of the afternoon passed slowly until at last Marcus arrived home.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted them. “Did I arrive in time for tea?”

  Tessa’s heart lightened at the sight of him. His smile caused her heart pound, and his kind words to Aunt Betty pleased her. He was a gentleman in the true sense of the word.

  The cook outdid herself with sandwiches and biscuits. Some appeared so elegant that Tessa hated to take a bite. Marcus had no such hesitation and ate several. Aunt Betty was in heaven.

  “It has been some time since I’ve had tea like this.” She had two cups plus sampled many of the items.