Tempting the Marquess

by Sara Lindsey

  “Jason?”

  “What?”

  “I told you to stop being so damned noble.”

  She felt his laughter against her mouth as he kissed her. His hands swept up to cup her breasts. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. He pulled her shirt out of her breeches and lifted it over her head, and then glared at her bound breasts.

  “Never again,” he chastised her.

  “No,” she agreed. “It’s most uncomfortable.”

  “Damn,” he cursed. “I can’t get the knot untied.”

  “Let me—”

  But he had already bent down and ripped the cloth with his teeth. She found the primitive gesture unbearably arousing.

  He took hold of one end of the linen bandage and gestured for her to spin. She raised her hands above her head and began to turn. He watched her intently, like a child carefully unwrapping a present, taking as much pleasure in the act of opening the gift as in the gift itself.

  Well, perhaps he took a little more pleasure in the gift, she thought as he began to fondle her, smoothing away the lines left by the bindings. She tugged at his hair, wanting his mouth on her again.

  “Slowly, my sweet.”

  He chuckled as he looked at her velvet knee-breeches, which were more like just-below-the-calf-breeches on her.

  “I must say these are quite fetching on you. Wherever did you find these relics?”

  She blushed. “Yours were too big, and Edward’s wouldn’t fit over my hips. I found these in the attic.”

  “They must have belonged to my father . . . or maybe my grandfather.”

  “I’m afraid I got them filthy when I sat down outside.”

  He moved to inspect her backside. His nose wrinkled. “I think you brought the worst part of the mews inside with you. Take them off at once.”

  She shook her head. “Then I’ll have nothing on except my boots and stockings.”

  “My dear, the general idea is that soon you’ll have nothing on at all. You didn’t mind taking off your shirt.”

  “You’ve already seen those parts of me. You haven’t seen the, um, lower bit yet.”

  “I promise I will like it just as much as your upper parts,” he vowed. “I thought you wanted to be wicked, Livvy.”

  It was a challenge she couldn’t resist.

  Her hands moved to the falls on her breeches. Her face felt fiery as she slipped the buttons from their holes, but she met his gaze as she let the breeches fall to the ground.

  He stared at her, his eyes hungry.

  Discomfited by such scrutiny, she picked up the breeches and held them in front of her. Ugh. They really did smell.

  “I don’t think so,” Jason said, pulling the clothing from her grasp. He walked over to one of the windows. “Let’s give the street sweepers something to talk about.” He raised the sash and dropped the breeches outside.

  Livvy felt ridiculous wearing only her stockings and leather half boots, so she quickly took them off while Jason dealt with closing the window. And then she was standing there, naked as the day she was born.

  Jason turned and saw her. For a long time he just looked at her. When he finally spoke, the words sounded as though they were being wrenched from his soul.

  “After all the years I have doubted, you make me believe there is a God after all. Only He could create something so perfectly divine.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I love you, Jason Traherne. You don’t have to say it back. I know you need time to adjust to everything. But even if you never say it, I will still love you.”

  “Livvy—” His voice broke.

  “It’s all right, Jason. What is not all right, however, is the fact that you are still fully dressed.”

  “You’ve seen all there is of me to see. I want to admire you.”

  “I am really not sure how much there is to admire,” she said, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Plenty,” he declared, prowling toward her. “Shall I start from the bottom? Your toes are quite tantalizing.”

  “My toes?” She laughed. “Honestly, Jason. What’s next? My ankles?”

  “If I skipped to your ankles, I would be neglecting the very attractive arches of your fair feet.” He knelt before her and ran a finger along her insole.

  She giggled and danced away from him.

  “Ticklish, are you? How delightful.”

  Livvy shrugged. “My brother has always thought so.”

  “I have a very different agenda than your brother.” He pulled her back to stand before him. “Now, shall we continue?”

  “If we must.”

  “Oh, we must. I am a supplicant at the feet of my goddess. I need to pay homage to your alluring ankles, your comely calves, your kissable knees. . . .”

  His hands moved up her legs in accordance with his words, and her knees received the kisses that were apparently due to them.

  “My kissable knees are feeling a bit unsteady,” she told him breathlessly.

  He rose to his feet, scooped her up and carried her to the bed. A maid had turned down the red velvet coverlet, which Livvy thought a pity as she imagined the velvet would feel quite sinful against her naked skin.

  She watched in fascination as Jason stripped off his clothes, each discarded article revealing more muscle and man. Someday, when she could manage to keep her hands off him, she would draw him thusly, but she didn’t see that day arriving anytime soon.

  He climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside her. He cupped her face in his palms, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. “This is your last chance to escape, my little adventuress. I still have the strength to let you go, if that is what you want.”

  Livvy sensed the unspoken meaning in his words and wondered if he was having second thoughts. She didn’t want to ask him and risk breaking whatever spell had bewitched them. Neither of them knew what the morrow would bring, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  She wanted him.

  Wanted them.

  Wanted this night.

  She was going to spend the rest of her life being safe; tonight she wanted to experience passion. She turned her face and pressed a kiss to his palm. “And if I don’t want to go?”

  He rolled on top of her and kissed her until her toes curled.

  “In that case, I think I’ll stay,” she gasped when he lifted his head.

  He nibbled at her throat. “You must tell me if there is anything you don’t like.”

  “I doubt there’s much chance of that.”

  “Says the woman who didn’t like kissing.”

  “Temporary insanity brought on by too much book learning,” she pleaded.

  A devilish gleam came into his eyes. “Then we had best stick to activities that were not in your books. If I recall correctly, you said there was no kissing here.”

  He placed light kisses on first one breast, and then the other.

  She pouted. “I hardly think those count as proper kisses.”

  He moved off her.

  “I didn’t mean you should stop!”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not stopping, just readjusting.”

  He leaned some pillows on the headboard and sat back against them. He guided her to sit astride his hips, and then brought up his knees to support her.

  “I can feel your man part poking my behind,” she told him. “I don’t like it. Make it stop.”

  Evidently she had said something hilarious, because Jason laughed until there were tears in his eyes.

  “I don’t like you laughing at me, either,” she informed him. “I believe I will go now.”

  She began to climb off him, but his hands clamped around her waist.

  “You are not going anywhere. I’m sorry for laughing, pet, but I don’t think your books were very informative. Unfortunately I can’t make my man part stop poking you. It’s his, er, way of showing affection, and believe me when I say he feels a tremendous amount of affection for you. I think I can distract you enough that you won
’t mind him so much. All right?”

  She nodded.

  He drew her head forward and placed light, teasing kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, and the tip of her nose, before taking her mouth in earnest. Her blood heated as their tongues tangled together in some primal dance. She couldn’t get enough of him, of his taste, his smell, his touch.

  She grabbed his hands and brought them up to her breasts. He squeezed and kneaded the sensitive flesh, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs. Livvy instinctively spread her thighs wider and arched her back, giving him better access.

  He groaned and broke their kiss, eagerly drawing her breast into his mouth.

  She threw her head back as he suckled, lost to everything but the pleasure he was giving her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him captive. Her love slave. Now there was an idea for a good book. . . . She gasped as he caught her nipple between his teeth, and then obeyed the urge to rock her hips against his.

  The movement seemed to ignite a fire in Jason. In a flash he had rolled them over so that she was on her back and he was on top of her, still settled between her thighs.

  He kissed her temple. “It’s time for you to become acquainted with my, er, man part,” he said against her ear.

  She nodded. Anything to make the ache inside her go away.

  He reached down between their bodies and fitted himself against her opening. He began to push inside her.

  “Oh, Jesus,” he moaned. “So hot and wet.”

  “I don’t like this,” she whispered.

  He pushed in a bit farther.

  “I said I don’t like this,” she hissed. “You’re hurting me.”

  He froze above her, looking desperate. Then he kissed her and worked his hand between them, finding a spot that sent streamers of pleasure unfurling through her body. Her entire focus seemed to narrow to that one point between her thighs.

  His fingers found a rhythm that made her cry out, and her hips arched up, driving him deeper inside her. To her surprise, it didn’t hurt anymore. She wriggled her hips experimentally.

  He sucked in his breath.

  She did it again.

  His hips flexed, and then he was in her all the way.

  Filling her.

  Completing her.

  He pulled out of her and thrust back in, and suddenly it was all too much.

  She went spinning into space, adrift on a wave of pleasure so intense she couldn’t breathe. She hovered there for an endless moment before crashing back down. As soon as she fell, the pleasure started building again.

  She heard someone panting and pleading, urging Jason to let himself go. Then she realized that someone was her. She returned to herself just as Jason cried out, his hips jerking wildly as he shot his seed within her. Those last thrusts were all she needed to fly back over the edge, this time with him.

  He collapsed on top of her, his heart racing and his lungs working like bellows. After a few minutes, he pushed himself up and rolled onto his side.

  “That,” he said, “was incredible.”

  She grinned. “I was going to say extraordinary.”

  “Better than your books?”

  She nodded. “I find there is quite a bit missing from my books. Now I know, perhaps I ought to write a book to address the issue. I am certain other young women would find these missing bits most enlightening.”

  “Heaven help us.”

  He tucked her against him so that her back was to his chest. She had never felt so safe, so sheltered as she did surrounded by the warmth and strength of his body.

  “Jason?” she whispered.

  “What is it, pet?”

  “Upon closer acquaintance, I think I like your man part,” she whispered.

  He laughed. “Believe me, sweetheart, we are both excessively relieved to hear that.”

  Chapter 17

  “I may command where I adore.”

  Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene 5

  Jason yawned and stretched, and then came instantly awake as his hand brushed across what felt like a breast. His eyes shot open as the events of the previous evening rushed back to him. He turned his head to look at Livvy.

  She was still sound asleep, curled on her side in a little ball. Her lips were parted, which would have been tempting but for the little snuffling noises coming from her mouth. He had exhausted her but good!

  Jason folded his arms behind his head and settled back with a satisfied smile. He had no regrets about what had happened last night. No, this wasn’t exactly how he’d planned his life, but there were certainly benefits to marrying Olivia. Marriage to Olivia. The thought wasn’t as terrifying as he had expected it to be.

  He had known what he was doing by taking her innocence, and he was willing to accept full responsibility. God knew someone needed to take responsibility for her. The chit needed a keeper, and he figured he was as good a man to keep her as any. He wasn’t sure he believed that she loved him, since women were prone to exaggeration in these matters, but he felt certain she cared for him. She wouldn’t have given herself to him if she didn’t.

  Then there was his son to consider. Edward was devoted to Livvy, and she had displayed a maternal warmth and tenderness toward him from the very first.

  As for him, he enjoyed her companionship, both in bed and out of it. She made him laugh, she made him think, and she sure as bloody hell made him lust. And this time, when he stood at the altar and spoke his vows, he would do so with the understanding that love had nothing to do with it.

  Olivia seemed the loyal type, and he doubted she would stray, but then he had thought the same about Laura. He had come to accept that women were fickle creatures incapable of fidelity. It was best not to expect too much. That way, one couldn’t be let down. As long as he didn’t mix up lust with love, he would be fine.

  He kissed her shoulder, breathing in her scent of roses and warm, sated woman. Just the smell of her got him hard. He hated to wake her, but there would be trouble if she was found in his room. He’d been lucky to wake when he did and not to the startled shriek of one of the maids.

  “Livvy, sweet, you need to get up.”

  She made an indistinct yet definitely negative sound.

  “I know, pet. You can go back to sleep once you’re tucked safely away in your own bed, but the servants will be up soon, and there’s going to be trouble if anyone finds out you spent the night here.”

  She flopped onto her back and opened up her eyes. That morning they were the color of a jay’s wing. When she saw him, her face lit into a smile. Then she yawned. “Good morning,” she said sleepily.

  “Yes, it is a very, very good morning.”

  He bent down and kissed her, unable to help himself. She opened her mouth to him at once, a little sigh escaping her. He wanted nothing more than to spend the morning making love to her, but that was not to be. He reluctantly raised his head.

  Olivia pouted and reached an arm up to curl around his neck, dragging him back down to her. He chuckled as he gave in and kissed her again. She brought her other arm up and trailed her fingers down his back in a feathery caress. He couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure.

  “Livvy, I must see you back to your room before you are missed.”

  She sighed. “I wish we could be like this always.”

  “I think we’ll have to leave the bedchamber every now and again, pet.”

  “No,” she said. “I mean you and me. Like this. Waking up together.”

  “I have no issue with sharing a chamber. When I get old and fat and begin to snore, you may change your mind, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “I don’t understand. Aren’t you going back to Arlyss with Edward straightaway?”

  “That had been my plan, but I thought you would prefer to get married here—”

  “Married!” she exclaimed, shock written all over her face.

  “Damn it, Livvy, I knew what I was doing when I took your innocence.”

  Well, that wasn’t entirely
true. He had been out of his mind with lust. He just hadn’t been displeased with the consequences come morning.

  “Did you think I would seduce you, and then abandon you? Is your opinion of me really so low?”

  “No, of course not,” she said hastily, “but you didn’t really take my innocence so much as I gave it to you. I never meant that you should be tied to me. I guess I didn’t give much thought as to what would happen.”

  “No, you didn’t. While it’s unlikely, you could already be carrying my child.”

  Her radiant smile told him the thought clearly pleased her; she practically glowed with excitement.

  “You’ll be an excellent mother, Livvy. Both to Edward and any other children we might have.”

  “I want to believe this is all possible,” she said slowly. “More than anything I want to marry you, to bear your children, to raise Edward as my own. I want to go to sleep in your arms every night and wake up there each morning. . . .”

  “But?”

  “But this all seems so sudden. Just days ago you were convinced women are inherently incapable of fidelity—”

  He still thought that, but it seemed prudent not to say so.

  “—and now you want to get married?”

  He shrugged and simply said, “Last night changed things.”

  Her expression was thoughtful for a moment, weighing his words, but he must have allayed whatever reservations she had, since she flung her arms around his neck.

  “Oh, Jason, I love you so much! I didn’t think it was possible for a person to be this happy!”

  She began running her hands over his body and pressing kisses to every part of him she could reach. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I can’t get enough of you.”

  He stroked her hair. In the early-morning light the color was more like wild honey than chestnut. She looked every inch the wood nymph he had once imagined her. Her skin was as creamy white as snowdrops, and her rosy mouth was sweet as wild strawberries.

  Pure magic.

  And somehow she was his.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way,” he told her.

  She moved restlessly on the bed. “I feel I’ve an itch, but I can’t get at it to scratch.” Her face screwed up in frustration. “Is this wanting as uncomfortable for you as it is for me?”