“Oh, she did,” Thea assured him, which caused everyone to laugh.
Regan did not mind. The bit of mischief had been an attempt to provoke Miss Swann into dismissing her from the school. She often wondered if Frost had bribed the woman with a small fortune to compensate for Regan’s disobedience.
Nina wiped the tears from her eyes. “Miss Swann could not understand how a dozen parasols were damaged in a single day.”
“I thought she would break one over Regan’s backside for sure when she figured out who was responsible,” Thea added.
Hunter’s brow furrowed. “Were you ever mistreated?”
Regan appreciated his concern. “No. Miss Swann tried to hide it, but I think she came to admire my daring.”
“I doubt anyone could remain mad at you for long.” Vane handed her the foil. The small bell guard fit into her hand as if it had been fashioned for her. “We certainly couldn’t.”
Sophia leaned heavily against her walking stick. “Sin, you will remember that she is hampered by her skirt, will you not?”
Regan grimaced behind her mask as Sin assured the worried countess that they were merely playing. Irritated by the marquess’s assurances, she lunged and would have hit her target if Sin had not twisted his body to avoid contact.
Hunter, Vane, and Reign cheered her aggressive attack. Her skirt and petticoat were indeed a hindrance, so Regan pulled the hem of her dress high enough to reveal her drawers. Although her legs were covered, she was certain her friends were speechless. Thea and Nina did not understand that the Lords of Vice, and now Juliana and Sophia, were family. Besides, the gents had seen more of her during the occasions she had gone swimming with them.
Regan danced backward to avoid Sin’s foil. The thirty-six-inch blade was light, but the effort it took to counter her opponent’s attacks was tiring. It galled her that Sin was being lenient, and the knowledge spurred her to be relentless.
She was the first to score a point.
Everyone applauded, including Juliana and Sophia.
“You are weakening,” Sin taunted, raising his foil to salute her.
She returned his salute. “And you, my friend, smell worse than the docks” was her cool retort.
Vane, in particular, found her insult amusing.
Moving forward and backward along the narrow strip Sin and Reign had defined with stones, Regan was breathing heavily when Sin’s buttoned foil struck the middle of her bodice.
“Enough?”
Regan was pleased that Sin was panting, too. Once more to determine the victor.
“Agreed.”
They began anew. Blinking away the perspiration that was stinging her eyes, Regan cursed the mask that they had insisted she wear. She clenched her teeth in frustration as Sin struck her blade downward with enough force that the blow rippled up her arm.
She was not strong enough to resist Sin’s earnest attacks. When their blades crossed, the marquess pressed. He assumed that he had the upper hand so he was unprepared when she used a small circular motion to disengage. She took advantage of his surprise and aimed for his flank.
“What the devil are you doing?”
Momentarily distracted by Dare’s appearance, she turned and Sin’s blade struck her on the arm. Though her long sleeves offered a certain amount of protection, the fabric could not spare her from the pain. Regan covered the injury with her hand as her foil tumbled onto the grass.
Somehow Dare was the first to reach her.
“You have the common sense of a flea!” Dare growled at Sin. He removed her wire mesh mask and pulled the strings that tethered the canvas bib to her neck. To Regan, he asked, “How badly hurt are you?”
Sin extended his hand in a helpless gesture. “My apologies, Regan. I had not expected you to suddenly turn—”
“It was an accident,” Regan said, feeling rattled and smothered by all the attention. Everyone had crowded around her and was talking at once. “I was careless.”
“I could not agree more,” Dare said harshly. With his arm protectively around Regan, he glared at his friends. “Whose asinine notion was it to have Regan fence with Sin?” He pointed at Vane. “This sounds like something you would suggest.”
Vane had not quite forgiven Dare for tossing him against the wall for kissing Regan. “Oh, really? And how did you deduce that I was the guilty one, Dare?”
Regan heard Reign quietly order his wife and the other women to return to the drawing room. Dare and Vane were going to come to blows if they continued to pound their chests. She grabbed Dare’s wrist to get his attention.
“It is not Vane’s fault, or anyone else’s for that matter.” She sagged wearily against his chest. “I was the one who suggested the bout.”
Hunter crouched down and retrieved Regan’s foil from the grass. “A reasonable request,” the duke spoke in her defense. “I recall numerous occasions when Regan honed her fencing skills with Sin.”
Dare ignored Hunter. “You?”
Regan tipped her chin up so she could glare at Dare. “Yes, it was my asinine notion, and I might have won if you had not distracted me.”
“Me?” His mouth thinned at the realization that he had been responsible for her being hurt.
“She almost had me, Dare,” Sin conceded. “As she said, it was just an accident.”
Regan nodded. “Besides, it is nothing more than a scratch,” she said, praying that she spoke the truth. She peeled away her fingers so she could inspect her injury. “See? It barely cut into the meat.”
Dare held her a little tighter. “Christ!”
Hunter squinted at her bloody sleeve. “I will summon the surgeon.”
“Yes.”
“No,” Regan said, countering Dare’s assent. “While I appreciate the gesture, none of you would fuss over such a insignificant scratch. It just needs to be cleaned and bound. I doubt it will even leave a scar when it heals.”
Dare’s body was literally vibrating with bridled fury. Regan was not even aware that she was holding her breath until he announced to everyone, “I will take care of her.”
Hunter, Sin, Reign, and Vane all froze and stared at their friend.
Even to Regan, Dare’s words sounded terribly like a promise.
Chapter Twenty
Rolling onto his side, Dare pulled the sheet around his waist. Alone in his bed, he conceded that there had been worse days in his life. He thought of the years of beatings Charles had given him when he was a boy. For days, he had hobbled about like a man with the weight of eighty years on his bowed shoulders as he waited for his young body to heal.
Allegra’s face also surfaced in the darkness of his bedchamber. He could still recall how she looked at sixteen, achingly beautiful and tragic, as her father, Lord Dyton, dragged her into the front hall of Rooks House, the Duke of Rhode’s county seat.
As Allegra sobbed at her father’s feet, Lord Dyton had demanded to know which of the Duke of Rhode’s sons had impregnated his daughter. Charles immediately accused Dare of the dastardly deed. It was then that he learned that Allegra had given herself to Charles, Dare’s rival and lifelong tormenter. Instead of denying the accusation, Dare had foolishly offered to marry Allegra.
His generosity was Allegra’s undoing. Inconsolable and almost unintelligible from her broken sobs, she pointed a trembling finger at Charles and claimed that he was the sire of her babe.
Dyton was suspicious, but he was a pragmatic man. Better that his daughter marry the heir of the dukedom than the second son. While his brother howled in outrage at Allegra’s duplicity, Dare had stared at the young woman he had loved and saw the ambition in her heart.
Since that awful day, he could tally a thousand more unpleasant days to his life, but nothing compared to standing there helplessly as Sin’s blade struck Regan’s arm. Dare had wanted to pick up Regan’s foil from the grass, snap off the buttoned tip, and stab one of his dearest friends’ heart for hurting her.
Christ, I am going mad.
“Dare?
”
Hearing Regan’s voice only confirmed his suspicions. Dare’s eyes snapped open, and he peered at the open doors that led to a small balcony. Unless she had sprouted wings, there was no possible way Regan could be standing on the balcony.
Dare sat up in his bed when Regan stealthily entered the room. “Are you awake?”
“How the devil did you manage this latest mischief?” he demanded, noting that she wore only a flimsy nightgown. The white linen gleamed and fluttered like a flag as she approached the bed.
“I have not done it in a few years, but I climbed up on the railing and jumped to the other balcony.”
“You did what?”
“Hush. I am not certain if Frost has returned.”
“You must not have been too concerned. May I remind you that your brother’s balcony separates us?”
“I knew of no other way to reach yours.”
Dare groaned and fell back against his pillows. “A sensible chit would have used the door!”
“Calm down,” she whispered. “I heard strange noises and thought Frost had returned. Knocking on your door would have been too brazen, even for me.”
His heart twisted in his chest as she grinned down at him.
“Regan … Regan, you will be the death of me if you persist.” Dare took her hand and pulled her closer until her thighs bumped against the mattress. “What was so important that you risked your foolish neck on this nocturnal adventure?”
“I came to see you,” she said simply.
Regan leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Dare wondered if she was aware that he was naked under the sheet and hard as marble. His cock was poking up like a foot soldier’s pike.
She straightened and Dare almost whimpered at the loss of her mouth against his. Wordlessly, Regan reached down and grabbed the bottom of her nightgown.
“Regan,” he said helplessly. How was he supposed to resist her?
She pulled the garment over her head and let it drop to the floor.
Without asking, she lifted the sheet that covered him from the waist down. Dare did not stop her. He was curious to see how far Regan would go with her exploration.
His cock jutted from the hair that covered his genitals. Dare moaned as her fingers circled its blunt head. There was no way he could conceal his desire for her.
“I wish I could light a lamp,” she murmured almost to herself. “You seem so much larger than the paintings and sculptures that I have admired.”
He lightly pinched her nipple. “Are you teasing me, you shameful minx?” Dare raised his hips off the mattress when her hand slid down the shaft of his cock and squeezed. “Or trying to stop my heart?”
“The night we were in the library, everything happened so fast.”
Instantly contrite, he felt like a callow youth for his haste. “I know. I rushed things. You deserve better than a quick tupping on the rug.”
There had been a fever in his blood that night. A madness that could not be sated with a mere kiss.
“Oh, I was not complaining.”
Dare noticed that she had removed the narrow linen bandage he had secured to her upper arm after he had cleaned her bloodied furrow with some of Sin’s brandy.
“You should have left the bandage on.”
“Do not scold,” she said, climbing onto the bed. “My arm is fine, and Frost might have noticed.”
On all fours, she dipped her head lower and flicked the tip of her tongue experimentally down the length of his straining cock.
Dare jolted as if a lightning bolt had struck him in the testicles.
Christ!
“Mmm … salty,” she murmured as her dark hair tickled his stomach.
With each moist stroke, the lady grew bolder. Dare’s fingers clawed the sheets as she gently suckled the head of his cock. Her untutored exploration was almost his undoing. He wanted to guide her, push the throbbing flesh deeper and show her how to tease him with her lips and clever tongue until his seed burst out of him.
“No,” he said, banishing the erotic vision of his cock plunging rapidly in and out of her mouth from his thoughts. She was a novice to such carnal games. He did not want Regan to be repulsed by his lust. “Ride me.”
Her head came up at his husky command. “How?”
Dare slid his hands to her waist and coaxed her to straddle him until the tip of his arousal prodded the curls between her legs. “Take my cock into your body. That’s right, sit on me,” he said, grinding his teeth as she slowly covered him inch by agonizing inch.
“It is difficult to view you as a chair,” she said so prudishly, Dare had to grin.
“Think of me as your faithful horse.”
Regan’s bravado returned. “Will I have to reward you with carrots?”
“We will reward each other.” He cupped her firm buttocks and pulled her down against him. “Now ride, my lady.”
* * *
At first, Dare’s sensual command seemed silly. His manhood was stretching her almost uncomfortably. Locked together as they were, Regan could have happily covered Dare with her body and allowed sleep to claim her. Dare, on the other hand, had something more energetic in mind.
It took Regan several attempts, but she quickly found her rhythm as she moved up and down the length of his arousal. Dare was her anchor in this storm of carnal pleasure. Bracing her palms against his chest, she approached lovemaking like she did most tasks in her life—with joy and vigor.
Dare moaned at the fierce pace she had set.
“Am I hurting you?” she whispered.
“In the most delightful way,” he said, his restless hands stroking her everywhere. She arched her back as one of his hands slid down her flat stomach and his thumb found a sensitive spot between her legs. “Do your worst, mon coeur.”
Mon coeur. My heart.
Regan loved that endearment best.
Thea was always telling her and Nina that men were rather thickheaded when it came to understanding a lady’s heart. Was Dare aware that Regan had offered him her heart long before he had claimed her maidenhead?
Had he tasted that love when he had kissed her five years ago?
The pleasure that had been building suddenly exploded, its fiery trails spinning wildly as they spread out over her body like a shimmering net of starlight. With her heart hammering in her chest, her arms bowed and her head dropped to his damp shoulder.
The feeling was so exquisite, she felt like crying.
Dare murmured something to her but she was too dazed to pay attention. Whatever he said was meant to comfort her, and that was enough.
Regan wearily turned her head and Dare’s hard mouth sought hers. His kiss was possessive, an unspoken claim that she willingly embraced.
Blindly, Dare’s hands seized her hips, encouraging her to continue the maddening pace that had left her limp and sated. His tongue speared her mouth, mimicking the actions of his manhood. Regan found the comparison strangely arousing.
“Fill me, Dare,” she said, and bit his earlobe. “As deep as you can go. Over and over.”
Dare seemed to take her words to heart. With a throaty growl that could have been laughter, he managed to flip Regan onto her back with his manhood still buried deep inside her.
He wrapped her legs around his plunging hips. Her thighs were trembling as she squeezed him. Dare rewarded her by biting her right breast. Regan’s eyes flared open at the stinging pain.
“You have marked me!” she exclaimed.
Dare gave her another hard kiss. “Lest you forget that you are mine.”
His declaration pushed her over the pinnacle that she had not been aware existed. Regan threw her head back against the pillows and cried out. Dare clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds of pleasure. It took only a few bone-jarring strokes, and he collapsed on top of her, his considerable weight burying her into the mattress and bedding. As Regan stroked his back, she felt the subtle pulls of his manhood and the viscous warmth of his seed filling her womb.
/> Too sated to fight the weariness in her limbs, Regan closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Regan fell asleep.
Dare could not decide if he was flattered or insulted. He took pride in his skills as a lover, but he had never left a woman so depleted that she fell asleep with his cock buried deeply inside her snug sheath.
He was still hard.
Dare wondered if his body would ever be sated. Regan’s proximity was hell on his hard-won control over his carnal appetites.
Her eyelids fluttered open when he tried to withdraw from her. “No, not yet,” she mumbled sleepily. “I like the feel of you inside me.”
Dare caressed her cheek. “How can you sleep when I am smothering you?”
“Not sleeping … just resting with my eyes closed,” Regan assured him as she snuggled up to his hand. She reminded him of a well-fed kitten.
Ignoring her faint protests, he compromised by rolling them both on their sides, leaving his cock nestled inside her. Regan inched closer as her left leg lazily slid up and down his leg.
His breath caught in his throat as he stared into her face. Lying in bed with a lover after the lust had receded was a new experience for him. He had shied away from tenderness, because it was a path that led to love and commitment. The only person he had given tenderness was the woman in his arms. The risk had appeared minimal because Regan had been a child. Dare had never dwelled on the fact that one day, the child would grow into a woman.
He smoothed the damp strands of hair from her face. “You are so beautiful.” In the shadowed interior of the bedchamber, her pale skin gleamed.
“Did you hit your head on one of the bedposts,” she teased, her hand automatically touching her mussed tresses. “No lady is beautiful when she feels this damp and sticky.”
Dare flexed deep inside her to get Regan’s attention. He claimed her swollen mouth, drinking in her gasp. Dare did not release her until they were both breathless. “She is to the gent who is responsible for her disheveled condition.”
“Oh.”
She blinked rapidly, and Dare tensed, bracing for her tears. Regan quickly recovered and smiled at him. “Before I return to my bedchamber, do you want to dishevel me again?”
After Dark with a Scoundrel Page 14