Love Regency Style

by Samantha Holt

  Her frantic hands drove away his morbid thoughts and he kissed down the valley of her breasts, releasing her onto the rug to pull at the hem of her shift. In one easy movement, he had it tugged up and over her head. Grateful for the moonlight shimmering across her skin, Evan took a moment to admire her hair tumbling around her bare shoulders and the soft curves of her body. In a gown, Lilly stunned, but naked, she took his breath away and tied him in knots.

  “Exquisite,” he muttered and noted her smile of disbelief.

  He would admit he too had been guilty of underestimating her beauty. Those pretty features had grown more beautiful than any woman he had ever known and that adequate figure drove him wild. Each inch of her was soft and curved as if made for his hands. He grasped her hips and relished the slight give of her flesh.

  Thank God she had overcome her shyness. Whatever nerves had plagued her their first night together seemed to have vanished since and she had no compunctions about being utterly exposed to him. Evan worked at the buttons of his shirt with one hand while using the other to skim up and down her body. With each sweeping motion, she arched into his touch like a wave. Her eyes shone with need and he nearly tore his shirt in his haste to remove it and give her what she craved.

  He stood to remove his shoes, trousers and underwear before coming back to her side. Lilly’s gaze skipped over him several times as he lay next to her and his chest swelled with pride at the desire burning bright in her eyes and the way her breasts moved increasingly quicker with each breath.

  A slender, cool hand reached between them and curled around his arousal. He hissed, sweet agony coursing through him, and his hips rocked instinctively into her grasp.

  “Is that…?”

  “Don’t stop,” he grated out as she moved her hand.

  She licked her bottom lip, leaving it glossy and succulent and giving him no choice but to kiss her as she loved him with her hand. Her inexperienced movements added an edge to the pleasure for he didn’t know what to expect. Who knew bedding a near virgin was more interesting than bedding an experienced widow or courtesan?

  Though somehow he suspected it was the woman and not her innocence that heightened the experience.

  Soon it became too much and he could hardly concentrate on kissing and touching her. “Stop.”

  Lilly stilled her hand and stared up at him, eyes wide and wary.

  “Too much,” he muttered. “Cannot control myself.”

  Evan urged her legs apart before she could protest and found her wet and ready for him. The scent of arousal suffused the air and he damn near exploded as it crumbled his last threads of restraint. Fearful of taking her too hard and fast again, particularly after a week apart, he rolled onto the rug and took her with him. With one leg tucked between his and her hot folds pressed against his thigh, her luscious breasts flattened to his chest, he claimed her mouth for a kiss before using his hands on her hips to coax her to straddle him.

  Gazing up at her, his heart constricted along with his body. Her glorious hair spilled over her shoulders and curled above her breasts. Evan reached out and tugged on a curl before skimming over the rise of one breast.

  “What do I…?”

  Evan grinned. She was already rocking against him. One thing could be said for Lilly Claremont, she was a quick learner. He took her hips again and raised her up to settle her over him.

  “Sink onto me.” She eagerly positioned herself over him and began to press down. Evan gritted his teeth. “Slowly, Lilly. God’s blood.”

  Her heat enclosing him so swiftly nearly sent his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His heart pounded so hard he feared it might crack a rib. She slowed now and he felt the tension in her from their time apart as she closed over him like a glove.

  With her head tilted back, hair occasionally skimming the tops of his thighs, Evan became convinced he’d never met a woman so beautiful. It was astonishing to think she had been an innocent before he had taken her. He’d felt little pride in being her first at the time—not after her discomfort and his lack of self-control—but now… now it stirred the primitive part of him. Whatever happened in her future, she would never forget him—the man who first claimed her.

  She sat there for a few moments and Evan had to force his gaze away from where they were joined. The sight promised to take him to the edge far too quickly. He used a thumb to play little circles over her pearl, and she rewarded him with tiny keening noises that made his heart pound faster—if that was possible. If this kept up, he would have a heart attack. Evan couldn’t complain though. What a way to go. Buried inside the beautiful Lilly Claremont.

  Hands to her hips, he eased her up and guided her movements. She took to it perfectly and pride made him beam at her. How many other men could boast such a mistress? Stunning, clever, quick-witted and naturally sensual. Thank goodness he had not let his brother have her.

  He eyed her breasts greedily as they swayed with her movements. Once she had the hang of riding him, he touched her sex again and was rewarded with the clench of her inner muscles around him.

  “So responsive,” he uttered. “You should see how beautiful you look, Lilly.”

  Lilly ran her hands down his chest and flattened them against his stomach for leverage. “You are beautiful too,” she panted.

  Evan would have chuckled if he had not been so consumed with her. There were few women who would tell the stern, disapproving Lord Hawksley he was beautiful. But Lilly never failed to surprise him. He had no doubt she would continue to do so.

  When it became clear she was tiring, he rolled her off him and she released a sweet little disappointed sound. Evan urged her onto her knees and he smoothed a hand across her beautiful pale rear.

  “Like this?” she asked, voice tinged with disbelief.

  “This will feel very deep for you. I’m told it brings a woman much pleasure but if it’s too much, you must tell me.” He lined himself up behind her and his hands shook as he grasped her hips.

  Lilly waited for him, patient and ready like an offering. The blood in his ears roared and he took her in one steady sweep. She cried out and he lunged again. With each press, her noises increased and the foggy haze in his mind closed over him. Only pleasure and Lilly’s supple body existed.

  Evan gritted his teeth and moved furiously. The slap of flesh on flesh rang in his ears, but he had no control over himself any more. She had thoroughly enchanted him. Her sounds grew frantic and her body trembled against him. He took and took, pounding harder into her. Somewhere in the back of his mind lingered a warning that he should slow down and remember her inexperience but his mind shut down the words and he gripped her hips while the pleasure crested.

  Lilly whimpered and her body spasmed around him. The sensation took him by surprise and he groaned. With several hard, frantic thrusts, he spilled inside of her. His orgasm seared him to the core and went on for an eternity. He continued to rock against her until the fog in front of his eyes lifted. Evan stopped, took a breath and peered down at the shaking woman beneath him.

  She collapsed onto the rug, leaving Evan to slide out of her. He clenched his jaw when he spotted marks on her hips and rear—fingerprints to be precise. God almighty, his fingerprints.

  He fought to find his voice. “Lilly?”

  Lilly rolled over and faced him, a soft smile on her face. Her breasts rose with each audible inhalation and his softening erection twitched in response. What was wrong with him? He longed to ask if she was well, if he had hurt her, but the words refused to come. He had treated her no better than a whore instead of an inexperienced lady. And he had lost control.

  Unforgivable.

  “Let us get you to bed,” he said gruffly instead.

  Her lids drooped and she nodded. Evan felt a heel but it was time to put some distance between them. He couldn’t afford to lose control every time they made love. In such a state, he might do anything. What if next time he did worse than leave a few fingerprints on her bottom? She would no doubt be s
ore the next morning from his brutal lovemaking. That was not how a gentleman was meant to behave whether the woman he was making love to was his mistress or not. Women were fragile, fair creatures and needed to be treated as such. Perhaps he really was no better than his father.

  Either way, he would not let himself become like him. He had to apply caution to his behavior when it came to Lilly. She had the ability to make him lose himself and he never lost control. Ever.

  He passed over her chemise, slipped on his trousers and flung the rest of his clothes over his arm before grabbing his shoes. Lilly threw on the cotton garment, unaware she was now silhouetted against the window. A roaring sound echoed in his ears as all the blood drained from his head downward. Evan dragged in a breath and expelled it slowly.

  Lilly slipped her hand in his and wordlessly led him upstairs to her room. In spite of every instinct to pull back and retreat to his room, he found himself climbing into bed next to her and pulling her supple body into his. Inhaling the scent of her hair, Evan groaned inwardly. What was he doing with this woman?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lilly forced herself to ignore the plummeting sensation in her stomach when she walked into the dining room the next morning. In spite of Evan coming to her bed after their dalliance in the study, he had returned to his own bed some time during the night, leaving her cold and alone.

  Why she should be disappointed, she didn’t know. After all, why else did they have separate rooms? And she should have been grateful he allowed her some space. But not waking in his arms or with the brush of his rough thighs against hers had left an empty pain in her heart.

  “Good morning.” He barely lifted his gaze from his newspaper as he sat formally at the table.

  Lilly sat tentatively and eyed the lace of the tablecloth as one of the servants served her breakfast. “Good morning,” she mumbled and willed herself out of her foolish mood.

  Just because her parents shared a room, did not mean she and Evan would. Her parents had shared a great love. She and Evan did not. Few couples shared a bed all night—why would they be the exception?

  She glanced at him to find him peering over his paper at her. He swiftly lifted it to cover his gaze and she suppressed a sound of frustration. Back in a jacket and waistcoat, his necktie was firmly in place, his shirt tightly buttoned. No hint of the sensual, relaxed man from last night remained. Would she ever hear flattering words from his lips again?

  Maybe he had thought more carefully about her behavior and was angry with her?

  Coughing, Lilly broke off a piece of toast and waited for him to look at her. It didn’t work, so she coughed again. The paper lowered, a dark brow arched.

  “Are you unwell?”

  “No, my lord, perfectly well.”

  The eyebrow arched higher at her formal tone and he lowered the paper with a sigh. “Have I displeased you?”

  Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, he should have been in her bed. He had displeased her immensely by not waking her with kisses and tender touches, with soft words and his rare smiles. But the words refused to come and she lowered the toast, appetite gone. She was a mistress and this was her lot. What more did she expect?

  “No, Evan, all is well.”

  His eyes narrowed and he placed the paper on the table. “I am having a modiste sent up from London this week. Madam Aubert. She is well known in London for her fashionable dresses. She shall take your measurements and create you a few new dresses that I am sure you shall love.”

  “Well, you do still owe me a dress after you destroyed one of my best.”

  “I do.”

  “But tell me, what is the point in dressing your mistress in the finest clothes, if no one is to see me in them? I could just as well wear my old dresses if I’m to spend the rest of my time hidden away in this house.”

  “You don’t want new clothes?” A line appeared between his brows, as if he was baffled by her words.

  “It seems a mighty waste of money, Evan.”

  She remembered her mother’s excitement when her father would send for new clothes for them both—and Lilly used to revel in her enthusiasm as a girl, enjoying the treat of new dresses. Her mother reminded her that to dress well made many things forgivable. As if somehow wearing a fine gown would change their situation. Lilly came to loathe those dress fittings. How she would rather wear a dress several seasons old yet be able to go to London. Now, she no longer missed those events. A short time in the society of Lady Stanley’s friends had taught her enough to know her girlhood fantasies of balls and handsome men were just that… dreams. She almost pitied the girls who believed such events would bring them lifelong happiness.

  “I should not like people to think me miserly with regards to my mistress.”

  “Since when do you care what others think?”

  His jaw twitched as he eyed her. “You will forgive me, Lilly, but is this not what a mistress wants? Fine clothing, a comfortable home?”

  “I would not know.”

  “So your mother didn’t want those things?”

  “Perhaps. But I am not my mother.”

  “Indeed you are not. I met her once, you know. My father had just passed and your father brought her to Hawksley Manor. She was far more placid and charming than you.”

  “You met my mother?”

  “I did.” He leaned forward, gaze delving into hers. “She was a fine woman. I was sorry to hear she passed.”

  Lilly felt as though she had been placed on a merry-go-round and made to remain until she was dizzy. His eyes twisted her insides and the sudden change in conversation made her head whirl.

  “It was a few years ago now,” Lilly managed to force out of a tight throat.

  “But I’m sure you still miss her.”

  “She was my only true companion for many years,” she snapped. “Of course I miss her.”

  Evan shook his head marginally but said nothing of her snippy tone. Her mother had passed in her sleep on a particularly cold night. Breaking the news to her father had been almost worse than discovering her mother’s cold body that morning. He had been devastated and withdrew into himself. In one night, she lost both her parents—parents who had always been so involved with each other, she feared they didn’t remember she existed at times.

  She curled her fingers around a teacup and noted how the china shook in her hand when she lifted it. Lilly placed it down again for fear of spilling the contents. At times, she loathed them for their selfishness, at others she envied their love. And in spite of their failings, she had been comfortable and well educated—more than many illegitimate children could boast. Shame warmed her cheeks.

  “Shall I bother sending for Madam Aubert?” Evan asked.

  Lilly let loose a wry smile. She couldn’t help but be grateful for his abrupt tone that broke her melancholy. Either he was uncomfortable with the way the conversation had turned or he sensed she did not want to be pushed any further. She observed him for a moment and concluded the latter. The man had become far too adept at reading her already.

  “Send for her if you will.”

  Evan’s lips quirked. “So grateful.”

  “Forgive me, should I come to your feet and thank you from there?”

  “No, but I could think of a few ways you could thank me.”

  Lilly opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. Images from the previous night assailed her. Her fingers tingled with the memory of his skin beneath them. Her body tensed when she recalled him buried deep inside her. How did he take her from annoyed to aroused in mere moments?

  He lifted his head to indicate a paper package on the side console. “I forgot to give that to you yesterday.”

  Unable to control her curiosity, Lilly got up from the dining table and snatched the package from the side before sitting with it. She drew out the string and peeked at Evan. He appeared to be buried in his newspaper, but she caught him peering over the top of it at her as if waiting for her reaction. Pulling the brown paper aside, she drew
in a breath.

  “A sketch pad!”

  The paper lowered again. “That will stop you from having to sneak around at night, will it not? I picked it up in London. Lady Stanley mentioned you love to draw.”

  “I do.”

  She stroked a finger across the paper and lifted the long velvet box. Popping it open, she discovered a beautiful silver slider pencil. Decorated with swirling feathers, the delicate pencil fit perfectly in her hands. Lilly could not help but let go of all her annoyance.

  “This is wonderful, thank you.”

  He grunted, lifted a shoulder and tucked himself behind his paper but not before she spotted a little softening in his eyes.

  ***

  Madame Aubert proved to have a wonderful eye and to Lilly’s relief seemed entirely disconcerted about visiting a mistress. As she instructed her to lift her arms, the dressmaker took her measurements and smiled with satisfaction.

  “Beautiful breasts,” she commented. “You shall fit well in some of my new designs. I can see why the marquess is so enraptured with you.

  Lilly felt heat rise to the tips of her ears. “I don’t think he is enraptured, Madame.”

  “I attend to many women and their rich lovers. He is enraptured.” The middle-aged woman’s expression brokered no argument.

  A strange fullness settled in her chest at the idea of Evan being so enchanted with her. She didn’t think she had ever captivated a man, yet if he truly thought her plain he would not have taken her as his, would he?

  If only he would not leave her at night. If he were so enthralled, why did he insist on returning to his own bed after making love to her? It should not, but it left her aching and empty to wake alone.

  Madame Aubert’s feathered hat tickled her nose as she took her waist measurement. “I see you in teal,” she said. “It shall liven up your hair and bring out your beautiful skin.”