by Brianna York
Rob sucked in a startled breath, then instinctively brought his arms around her, feeling her supple curves fit themselves against his body. Her breasts pressed enticingly against his chest and her hair tickled against the hand he brought up to cup the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. He angled his mouth against hers and slipped his tongue between her teeth. She yielded immediately to this new demand, her inexperience no impediment to her natural passionate response. Knowing that she must be feeling the evidence of his desire pressing against her body, he shifted her somewhat to allow some more space between them. He gathered his hands together at her waist, then allowed them to rove up her sides and cup the soft fullness of her breasts. He realized in a vague way that he was nearly dizzy with desire for her as he allowed his fingers to graze over the milky skin revealed by her demure gown. Her tiny gasp of pleasure incited him to nearly unbearable wanting and he attempted to gain some control over the situation.
“Rosy, we should not do this,” he said thickly, his hands sliding down to cup her small, round buttocks.
“Why ever not?” she retorted, parting her legs slightly so she might pull their bodies closer together. She arched back against his hands in wanton pleasure that was both unpracticed and terribly inviting and Rob gave in to temptation and pressed kisses to the smooth curves of her breasts.
“This is not proper,” Rob tried again, straightening up a bit and trying again to create some space between their bodies. “Someone will notice that we have left together or Cecily will make it known.”
“Oh, hang Cecily,” Rosy said with irritation, her hands climbing into the hair at the nape of his neck and twining into it with apparent pleasure. “I do not care if she wants you for herself. She cannot have you.”
Rob laughed softly at this statement, feeling tingles of pleasure spreading from her questing fingers. “Are you prepared to engage her in a duel for my honor?” he teased, nipping at the soft swell of Rosy’s lower lip.
“If I must,” Rosy replied saucily. She rotated away from the door, trying to get away from the hard surface which was preventing her better access to Rob’s person. Her change in balance surprised them both however, and they slithered to the floor in a tangle of limbs that was only slightly softened by Rob cradling her against him before they hit the floor.
Rob felt every inch of her body pressed against him as they came together on the floor and felt that he might die if he did not take her right there. For a moment, he allowed that mad thought to remain too far away to mean anything as he showered kisses on her neck before reclaiming her mouth with a muffled groan. Hearing his own groan of pleasure caused him to consider what he was about to do and he straightened away from her for the first time.
“Rosy, this is madness. We must get back to the ball.” He began to push himself up off the floor, but Rosy’s small hands grabbed his buttocks firmly, shocking him into inaction and causing desire to spike along his spine like a lightning bolt. “Rosy,” he said warningly.
“Kiss me Rob,” she whispered, her voice throaty with desire.
Rob stared down into her warm brown eyes which were only half revealed to him by the small number of candles lit in the room at this hour. Her hands were clenched against his backside willing him to do what instinct demanded even if sense did not. With a growl of frustration and anticipation, he thrust open his breeches and flipped her skirts out of the way. He pressed himself up to the moist heat of her, feeling as he would die if he did not enter her and possess her. She whimpered at the touch of his flesh against hers and arched her back in invitation, instinct replacing experience handily. Rob prepared himself to push into the inviting depths of her body, her slick skin gliding over his erection in promise of what he would experience when he took her.
Suddenly, thoughts of his financial situation flooded his mind. He had to marry for money to save himself. She was an heiress. People would call him a fortune hunter. She was young and innocent and offered herself so freely. She deserved someone who could give her security and provide her with a life without worry. Panting, he pushed to his feet and rearranged his breeches. He heard her make a small sound of protest as he turned away and drove a hand through his disordered hair. He willed his body to listen to his mind as he stalked about the room. He spared Rosy a glance and saw that she had not even attempted to rearrange her skirts. He could still see entirely too much of her, setting off anew the inferno of greedy wanting he had almost given in to a moment ago.
“Please, Rosy,” he said harshly. “Could you cover yourself some?”
She frowned at him. “Why? You are not done with me. Do come back. I feel as if I should die.” She offered him her hand invitingly, her skirts still revealing her body nearly to her waist and her disordered bodice allowing a nipple to peak into view.
“Damnation,” he ground out, turning away and gripping the back of a nearby chair. “This is not how you should be treated. You know it as well as I do. This is for your husband to experience with you and I shall not take what is not mine.”
“Who says that I have not offered what is yours?” she answered as she readjusted her dress a bit and rose to her feet. “We both know that you should marry me. Why wait until the wedding for something that we both want so much?”
Rob sighed heavily, his feelings as chaotic as his physical self. He could not deny that he wanted her mightily. He also knew that he was not likely to pick a wife who would be as good a companion to him as Rosy, though there were moments when her youth and impulsivity worried him. His mind still rebelled at the thought of marriage at all, and he cringed at the bargain she would be signing up for if she were to accept his offer of marriage. “You do not know what you ask of me,” he said regretfully, his body still yearning for her sweetness.
“Perhaps I might if you would only explain yourself,” she said logically. He felt her approach him and then her hands were skimming along his shoulders before drawing together around his waist. She rested her head on his back companionably. “I will understand whatever is making you wish not to marry if you would share the burden with me.”
Rob shook his head slowly. It was all too much. He had never felt such passion for a woman, nor such anguish over giving offense. He both wanted her desperately and wished her as far away as possible. “I must think,” he said, his voice tight. He separated her clasped hands and stepped away from her. “I need to be able to gather my thoughts. I cannot do so here, like this.”
He heard Rosy sigh. “I had said that I shall not wait forever, Rob. I had thought I meant it. I was a fool. I will wait for you for as long as I must. I love you.” She saw his shoulders grow tense and suddenly he strode to the door. She let him go even though she wanted to catch a hold of his arm and draw him back to her. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill caused by his departure from her embrace.
“I shall not leave you in suspense,” he told her as he reached for the doorknob. “Please just give me some time to sort all of this out.” And then he was gone.
Rosy felt shaken to her very core but triumphant at the same time. She placed a hand over her belly, feeling the rapid flutter of desire coiling through her nether regions and making her itchy with want. She thought of the tip of his manhood pressed against her most private self and a thrill raced up her body. She felt that she might trade her very soul to be able to feel him take her completely and not stop at the first moments of teasing promise as he had tonight. She drew a deep breath and raised her hands to her disordered hair. She began methodically pushing pins back into place in an effort to bring some order to her person again.
When she felt that she had gathered herself somewhat, she rose and crossed the room to place her hand on the doorknob. She took a steadying breath, her fingers clenched around the smooth metal of the knob. What had she set in motion? She was not entirely certain and she trembled a little at her temerity.
“Why must you be so impetuous, Rosalind Fenton?” she asked herself out loud, pressing her
forehead to the door. Well, she thought, there really was one only solution. She had to convince Rob to marry her. She simply refused to live without him.
Chapter Ten
Rob did not even stop to say goodbye to Rosy’s parents or his friends. He marched into the front hall, gathered his coat and hat from the nervous butler and swept from the house. He called for his carriage as he was trotting down the steps into the street and flung himself into the vehicle, ordering his coachman to take him to the house he kept for Minerva. Once the carriage was in motion, he breathed a small sigh of relief. At least he was far enough away from Rosy to prevent any further calamity. His thoughts turned back to his actions of a quarter hour ago, and he groaned aloud. He placed his head in his hands and gripped his thick hair with frustrated fingers. What on earth had he been thinking?
He felt the first stirrings of an awareness he had hoped never to allow to see daylight. Nevertheless, the thing had come out into the light and must be dealt with. He was hopelessly attracted to Rosalind Fenton. He had never in his life felt such physical desire for a woman and if he was being honest with himself, it frightened him that she could reduce him to such a state with a simple touch.
“Damnation!” he muttered aloud, shaking his head slightly from side to side. The only positive he could see with the current state of affairs was that he had not debauched the girl on her father’s library carpet. No matter that every fiber of his being had wanted to. His recalcitrant mind called up the feel of her full and soft breasts in his hands and the slick wetness of her most intimate self before he could quash the thoughts. His body eagerly replied to the stimulus of such wanton musings and he shifted uncomfortably on the padded seat of the carriage.
“This will not do at all,” Rob said quietly to himself. He sat back against the carriage squabs and willed himself to calm down. The jouncing of the carriage over the cobbles was not much help in this exercise as his lively manhood pressed eagerly against the front of his breeches at each bump, but he continued to attempt to quiet his thoughts by thinking of the visit he needed to make to his tailor the next day. He hoped that thoughts of which color wool to pick for his new coat would help bring him back under control of the situation as soon as possible.
It felt like an eternity to Rob before the coach drew to a halt. He had not succeeded entirely in his endeavor to remove the vestiges of the encounter with Rosalind, but his discomfort had eased somewhat. He removed himself carefully from the coach and ordered it and the coachman home. He would send ‘round for someone in the morning. He knew that it was very late and probably very rude of him to be showing up on Minerva’s doorstep at this hour, but his need was too great for him to care.
He hopped up the front steps and rapped the knocker firmly. There was a moment of total silence and then sound of someone approaching the door. There was the sound of the bolt sliding back and then the door opened a sliver.
“Who is there?” said a feminine voice and Rob realized that Minerva herself had come to answer the door.
“Good Lord, Minnie,” he said to her in some shock. “Why on earth have you come to the door! Imagine if it was someone with ill intent knocking at this hour?”
Minerva chuckled and opened the door wider. “Do come in, My Lord,” she said easily, beckoning for him to join her in the front hall. She helped divest Rob of his coat and hat after shutting the heavy door and bolting it fast again. “You seem to forget, my darling,” she said calmly, “That I have spent much of my life living with much less finery than this. I have never felt as safe in all my life as I do living in this house that you have provided for me.”
Rob frowned with concern. “That does not change the fact that someone could have been outside the door who would have knocked you flat and stolen all your finery. Or worse, knocked you flat and hurt you in some way.” He reached out and hugged her close for a moment. “I have hired a butler to live here with you for a reason.”
Minerva smiled gently against Rob’s shoulder. “I shall remember not to be so rash in the future,” she promised. “Now, I assume that you are here with something in mind? What might I do for you, My Lord?”
Rob leaned back a bit and looked down at the lovely and kind face of his mistress. The soft candlelight was playing tricks with his eyes because he thought for a moment that he held Rosy in his arms and not Minerva. Uttering a soft oath, he brought his mouth down on Minerva’s with unfamiliar demand. She squeaked a bit in surprise, but recovered quickly, pressing herself to fit tightly against him and opening herself to his need eagerly. His hands found her breasts, cupping and kneading, almost as if he wished to press himself through her skin and get inside of her. While a bit surprised at this uncharacteristic roughness, she felt the edge of panic in his actions and ran a soothing hand down his back.
“Be still for a moment, dear,” she whispered, freeing herself from his tight grip a bit. “Let us go somewhere a bit less uncomfortable.”
“If we must,” Rob said with a bit of irritation. Minerva noted this unusual manner as well but made no comment as she led him to the open door of the library. She waved him through ahead of her, then stepped inside and closed the door. There was a merry fire in the grate and the room was many degrees warmer than the front hall.
“I could not sleep and had been sitting here reading a book,” she said soothingly as she stepped past him. She reached to the side and pulled a couple of quilts from the sofa which she had been using to keep herself warm. She draped them efficiently onto the floor before the fire, then wriggled from her nightclothes with practiced ease. The fire was warm on her backside as she held out her arms to him. “Come here,” she said quietly.
Rob felt as if his emotions and his self-control had been ravished beyond repair. He noted with some irritation that his fingers were shaking as he divested himself of his clothes as quickly as he possibly could. He found that he felt almost embarrassed at his obvious need of his mistress and wondered that he should feel that way.
“I can see that you have had a trying evening,” Minerva said, having wisely guessed at some of what was troubling her keeper. She watched him cross the room to stand before her, the dark hair on his body accenting the slimness of his waist and the ripple of smooth muscle across his chest and shoulders. She ran her hands down his body, skimming against the smooth skin and curly hair as she went down on her knees. “I shall take care of you,” she whispered, glancing up at him for a moment before taking him into her mouth.
Rob surrendered himself to the expert ministrations of his mistress, her skill dispelling some of his confusion and taking him away from his thoughts of his encounter with Rosy. He would normally have allowed Minerva to carry him all the way to the end in this manner but tonight he felt that would simply not do. Giving a little growl of frustration, he pushed Minerva back and forced her to recline onto the quilts on the floor. She acquiesced eagerly as she always did, seeming never to tire of him. He was grateful for her more than ever as he balanced himself over her and looked down at her.
“I am sorry to come to you in this state,” he said apologetically, his chest slick with sweat and his control in tatters but his need to be polite supreme in his mind.
Minerva voiced her throaty chuckle and smiled fondly up at him. She reached out with one hand and brought his erection into contact with the warm wetness he had created. “You should not apologize for anything, my dear,” she said quietly, rubbing the slickness of her body onto the velvety skin of his manhood. “Look at how much I want you.”
“Bless you,” Rob said tenderly before delving inside of her in one smooth thrust. She cried out in pleasure, surprised and pleased to see this new side of him. Usually he was totally in control of their coupling, worrying about pleasing her first and then taking his own pleasure after that. He typically radiated competence, enjoyment and a kind of serenity. Tonight he was nearly wild with his need for her, the force of his strokes driving her across the floor and pillowing the quilts beneath her shoulders. She arched aga
inst him and met him stroke for stroke, reveling in the near-pain of it. She brought her legs up to cradle him and lock him tighter against her body, seeking to bring him as deeply into herself as she could.
“Oh, good Lord, Minnie,” he groaned aloud as she pressed her hips up to meet him one last time. He actually shouted as the release rolled over him. His last few strokes brought her with him and she raised her voice to join his as pleasure rippled through her limbs and tingled into her fingers.
They collapsed as one onto the mess of quilts, both panting and sticky with sweat. Minerva cradled his head on her breasts and smiled happily. She could sense that he would likely be moving on soon and she relished this coupling with its fierce intensity and nearly painful pleasure in case it might be one of the last times that they should be together. She stroked Rob’s sweaty hair and closed her eyes for a moment as she enjoyed the sensation of him still locked tightly inside of her, for the moment still with her in spirit as well as body.
“You must think I have run mad,” he said to her, his voice somewhat muffled against her skin.
Minerva slipped a hand down the arc of his strong back and gripped him with a few brief flexes of her internal muscles. She felt the remainder of his erection answer back unconsciously and giggled. “I did not think any such thing. I quite enjoyed that.” She rolled her hips up slightly beneath him invitingly. “Might we do it again?”
Rob laughed aloud as this, propping himself up on his elbows above her. “You are saucy tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.
She tsked at him. “I am saucy? Who has brought us into the library to see to his satisfaction because he was too eager to wait for a bed?”
Rob actually blushed at her words, and she found herself to be charmed to see the reaction. “I feel as if I have become a man possessed this night,” he said to her a bit sheepishly.