She shifted to look at Simon lying next to her and discovered certain parts of her anatomy were sore. Really sore. The memory of why she was sore brought a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips. She had to bite back a gurgle of laughter. He certainly was generous with his attentions. It was, quite frankly, the most singular experience of her lifetime. Perhaps she was foolish to have refused his proposal all those years ago.
The memory of Simon with Octavia Fenimere reared its ugly head, and Georgiana chased away any thought of marital bliss. The idea of being with him—living with him, loving him—while he shared such intimacies with other women would have ruined her far more deeply than a lost reputation. While she didn’t doubt Simon desired her, both then and now, that didn’t mean he would have been happy as her husband. His proposal was noble, but it had been made out of his sense of duty rather than something deeper.
Desire had nothing to do with love, she reminded herself. And lust was formidable. She’d seen enough men—smart, powerful men—throw away their good sense to grovel at her feet in the name of lust. She’d even known certain women who had abandoned their own scruples for a powerful passion.
Georgiana thought again of Mrs. Fenimere pleasuring Simon. He’d seemed to like it at the time, she remembered, though it had seemed depraved to her. But having finally experienced what happens between a man and a woman, she could see why a woman would want to give her partner pleasure. In fact, it made her question her own scruples.
The blackness of night had been replaced with the soft gray of the predawn hour. She looked again at the large, beautiful man sleeping soundly next to her and felt both a stab of desire and an overwhelming curiosity. She really hadn’t gotten to see him last night, Georgiana realized. She knew so little of the male body, so little of what made Simon feel as boneless and fulfilled as he had made her feel last night. In fact, she mused, she was nearly as ignorant as before.
Unacceptable.
Her mind made up, Georgiana pulled Simon’s blanket down and surveyed his sleeping form in the trickle of morning light. He truly was magnificent, even in sleep. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and black. The shadow of a beard that touched his cheeks and chin made him look unabashedly masculine. He was broad-shouldered but lean and beautifully muscled, his skin golden and fine-grained. There was a small patch of dark hair on his chest and another very low on his abdomen. She didn’t dare look lower, not at the moment, for fear she might lose her nerve.
Her stomach tightened with desire as she studied him. She itched to touch him...to caress the taut slide of skin and sinew and muscle. Georgiana bit her lip, considering. She’d likely never have this opportunity again, she justified. This was probably her one chance to understand the male form. It was research, really. A comparison of the male and female body and what brings each pleasure.
Georgiana held her breath as she reached out and stroked his cheek, the stubble rough under her fingertips. Simon murmured something on an exhale, and she waited until his breathing returned to normal before she let her fingers drift lower, down his throat to his chest.
It was so odd, she mused, how his skin was so soft, so smooth, yet the muscles underneath were so strong. She traced his nipple in fascination, wondering if he found it pleasurable to be touched there. He had actually licked hers last night, which she had liked very much. Hesitantly, Georgiana leaned over and kissed his chest. Underneath her, she felt Simon sigh, but when she looked up he was still asleep.
Feeling braver, she let her tongue sweep over his satiny skin. He tasted warm and clean and slightly salty, and Georgiana decided she liked the flavor of him. She licked his nipple, drawing a little gasp from him, and then she gently sucked it, nipping just a little like he had done to her last night. She felt his entire body tense, and she looked up to see a pair of dark green eyes assessing her.
“I wanted to explore you,” Georgiana said defensively. “I didn’t get to last night.”
“You won’t hear me complaining,” he returned, his voice low and velvety. He put his hands behind his head, clearly happy to watch whatever she intended.
Satisfied, Georgiana let her hands flow freely over the tight expanse of his chest and abdomen. She ran her lips along the taut ridges of muscles that made up his stomach, licking his navel, and Simon’s legs moved restlessly. His breathing sounded a little ragged so she looked up at him.
“Am I doing this right?” she asked. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes,” he said quickly.
Georgiana returned to his heated skin and continued kissing her way down his stomach. She found the jut of his hipbone and traced it first with her fingers then with her lips. Simon quivered as she bit him gently, his hips hitching slightly toward her. She moved to the top of his thigh, kissing and nipping at it through the thin blanket and smiling to herself at the raspy little sounds he made.
She pulled the blanket lower, exposing his erection. Laying her head on his hip, her fingers trembled as she carefully reached out and ran a finger around the tip, then the length of his shaft. A shudder ran through his entire body, and Georgiana felt a rush of power. It was a heady sensation, knowing this large, beautiful man trembled at her touch. She curled her fingers around him and stroked, drawing a harsh breath from him.
“Is that good or bad?” she asked, looking up again.
“Good,” he muttered tightly. “It’s good.”
Georgiana held his gaze as she leaned over and kissed the tip of his cock. Simon gasped. Then she ran her tongue over it, just to see what it would be like. He tasted warm and, well, like Simon. The next time she looked up, it was to find him completely pole-axed. His eyes were wide and nearly black with desire, and his hair was sticking up all over, and Georgiana found him utterly delicious.
There was something wonderfully compelling about having Simon at her mercy. Drunk with her newly discovered power, she licked her lips and arched a brow. As if reading her thoughts, he shook his head. “Georgie,” he babbled, panting a little. “Ladies don’t...they just don’t.”
“Would you like it if I did, Simon?” she asked, genuinely curious.
He seemed to be at a loss for words, so she took it upon herself to make the decision for him. She ran her lips, then her tongue down the length of his shaft, and felt his body hitch, straining toward her. At his groan, she stopped to look at him. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked.
“Don’t stop,” he begged in a shaky voice. “Sweet Jesus, please don’t stop.”
Georgiana enjoyed every last sound coming from Simon. She experimented with her lips, her tongue, and her teeth, trying to determine what was most pleasurable to him. She had just figured out the cadence that he seemed to like best when she was unceremoniously plucked from what she was doing. She was on her back without warning, and Simon looked at her in such a way that it made her blush down to her toes.
Without a word, and without tearing his eyes from her, he pushed her legs apart. Then he was there, entering her, moving in her. Her breath caught at the invasion—she was sorer than she realized. But it also felt so right having him there, as though the pieces of a puzzle had come together.
Simon must have felt her flinch because his body stilled. She heard him curse.
“You’re sore. We need to be gentle,” he breathed in her ear. “And since I’m pretty sure I’m incapable of gentleness at the moment, I’m not going to move, love.”
She looked at him, confused. Impatient. “But you need to move,” she protested. “I want you to move.”
He cupped her cheek with one hand, and his other wandered down to her knee. He hitched her leg inelegantly upward, which seated him even more deeply inside her. Simon rolled his hips into her and held himself there, throbbing deep within her.
Simon grinned a slow, lascivious grin that Georgiana felt through to her soul. “Let’s see if we can’t make you come, just
like this.”
Georgiana shook her head. She wanted him to take her, possess her as he had last night. “Please, Simon,” she begged in a ragged breath. “Please.”
Stubborn man that he was he ignored her pleas. Instead he busied himself with sprinkling her cheeks, her jaw, her lips with feather-light kisses that did nothing to soothe or sate her. His hand wandered over her breast, gently circling a sore nipple, and sending sparks of desire racing through her. He did the same to the other breast, cupping, soothing, teasing, until she was sobbing, racked with need.
Feeling rather desperate, Georgiana stroked his flanks, urging him to move. When that didn’t work, she shifted her own hips, unwittingly grinding against him in the hope of enticing him to pleasure her. The feeling of moving under him, with him seated deep inside her, brought such acute pleasure that sparks of light danced behind her eyelids. Her body involuntarily pulsed around him, demanding more.
Unable to stop herself, she worked against him. It was glorious. Her body quickly began the sensuous ascent that she knew led to release. Simon whispered soft encouragement in her ear, licking and nibbling at her, his body never moving.
Her mind registered that she was panting and whimpering and begging, but she didn’t care.
Georgiana trembled. She was so close, so very close, struggling so hard to get to that glorious precipice, and she felt her breathing fracture in want and frustration. Simon rolled his hips into her and her entire body tightened, dancing on the verge. He did it again and Georgiana’s mind went blank. He gently, slowly squeezed the sensitive peak of her breast and Georgiana knew the end was mercifully close.
“Let go, love,” he muttered hoarsely. “Let me feel you tighten around me.”
At his words, a pleasure that was bordered on painful ripped through her body. Her neck arched and a ragged sob escaped her lips. Simon pulsed deep inside her and a gravelly cry—her name—tore from his throat.
Simon rested his forehead on hers as his whole body relaxed, his breath washing over her cheeks and his flagging erection still deep inside her. He made a strangled sound, something between a laugh and a groan. He swallowed hard, still panting. His green gaze caught hers, and his fingertips caressed her cheek.
“We shouldn’t have done it again,” he chastised himself between kisses. “You’re tender as it is. I just can’t seem to control myself when it comes to you.”
“Mmmm,” she murmured, nuzzling his cheek, not yet able to speak. Her fingertips absently stroked the lean line of his back.
“I’ve never been with a virgin before you, Princess,” he said by way of apology. “So this is new to me too. It’s been a very pleasant surprise.”
Georgiana couldn’t stifle her giggle. “You were my first, and I was your first.”
Simon chuckled and rolled off of her onto his side. He tucked her backside neatly against him and sighed contentedly, as though savoring the weight of her body. His fingers absently roved over the taut curves of her bottom, claiming the flare of her hip, the soft arch of her low back. “Next time will be easier,” he murmured in her ear. “Your body knows me now. We’ll fit together perfectly.”
“Next time?” Georgiana repeated, still somewhat dazed.
“I’m not sure what to tell Nath,” Simon continued. His hand was tangled in the heavy fall of her hair, luxuriating in its silky texture. He kissed the back of her neck, the delicate bumps of her spine, the hollow behind her ear, as though absorbing the feel of her. “He’s not going to like it, but I think it’s best to let him know as soon as possible.”
When she spoke, her voice was thick and still sated. Distracted. “What are we telling Nath?”
“That we’re to marry,” he said. “We can make the proper arrangements as soon as we return to Cuttack.”
Whatever he was doing to her neck was muddying her thoughts, because for a moment her heart had leaped at the thought of marrying him. An ugly one chased its heels: She wasn’t really Simon’s first—nor would she be his last.
The thought brought a small tightening in her chest, and Georgiana spoke without thinking. “I’m not marrying you.”
Simon froze and Georgiana could feel him tense behind her. “Really?” he said softly. “I’m pretty sure you are.”
She squirmed to meet his gaze. “You don’t want to marry me, Simon,” she said soothingly, trying to convince them both. “We don’t suit.”
“We’re already married,” he returned, flopping her over to face him. “And I think we do suit.”
“We’re hardly married,” Georgiana stated decidedly. She needed to get herself together before she made a rash decision, not an easy task when his fingers were dancing over her with such devastating sweetness. So she strove for her most no-nonsense tone.
“First of all,” she began, praying she sounded logical. “Neither of us is Dongari, so I sincerely doubt a Dongari tribal ceremony counts as a legitimate wedding in a British court of law. Second, neither of us understood that we were even getting married. Accidental marriage is not likely something a court would uphold.”
“We consummated it,” Simon stated calmly. “That is something a court would consider.”
“We had an affair,” Georgiana said lightly. “You’ve had many of those, if memory serves,” she added, unable to keep the trace of bitterness from her tone. “I’m no different from any other woman you’ve brought to bed.”
“I beg to differ,” he said, sounding monumentally offended. “You are unlike any other. And I’ve never taken a woman’s virtue, nor would I. Not unless I was planning to make her my wife.”
“Oh please,” she shook her head. “I find it hard to believe that you had marriage on your mind last night.”
“I did,” he said stubbornly. “I maybe didn’t realize it until last night, but yes, marrying you has been on my mind. What do you think we’ve been doing these last weeks, Georgie?”
“I’ve been doing research,” Georgiana scoffed imperiously. “I have no idea what you’ve been up to.”
“We’ve been courting,” he insisted. “Last night just hastened the process. And since the lovemaking was an inevitable part of our courtship, it shouldn’t matter whether it happened before or after the proposal.”
“Inevitable? Really, Simon, I’m surprised a man of your intelligence is capable of such romantic twaddle.”
Simon looked ready to throttle her. “Yes, inevitable. We’ve been circling each other like hungry mongrels eyeing a bone since you arrived. Even you can’t deny that whenever we’ve kissed there’s been an underlying...passion. It’s like trying to light a pile of kindling with a lightning bolt.”
“But that doesn’t add up to marriage, Simon,” she said. “Just sex.”
“Princess,” he said very slowly, very deliberately, “I’ve had a lot of sex. I can assure you that what we did, several times, was something more than ‘just sex.’ Last night—this morning—that was more than the physical act.”
His voice was low, but it was laced with a thread of anger. The banked fury in his eyes gave her pause, and Georgiana couldn’t completely repress the shiver that skated down her spine. Once again, she had the feeling that underneath Simon’s civilized demeanor was something raw and primitive. He seemed...possessive. Georgiana’s heartbeat fluttered.
She had to stop this madness before she submitted to it.
“I appreciate that once again you’re trying to make an honest woman of me, but I’m not your obligation, Simon,” she stated haughtily, hoping to conceal how deeply he was affecting her. “I wasn’t then and I won’t be now.”
“Of course you’re my obligation,” he said heatedly. “We’ve spent the night together as man and wife. For all we know, you might already be carrying my child. I—” Simon stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowed. “Wait. What do you mean, ‘then,’ Georgie?”
&nb
sp; “Just what I said,” she told him, studying her fingertips. She hoped she appeared nonchalant—he’d shaken her to the core. “I won’t marry you because you feel guilty for seducing me.”
“No,” Simon said, grabbing her chin in his hand and wrenching her face to meet his. “You said you weren’t my obligation...then or now.” He looked at her for a long moment, realization slowly dawning on his face. “Georgie, love,” he said very softly. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
Georgiana shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“When I went to offer for you six years ago,” he said slowly, his thumb stroking her jaw, “your father refused me. I assumed it was because I lacked position, but I’m beginning to think that’s not the whole story.”
“Your assumption was probably correct,” Georgiana countered blandly. “Father is a terrible snob.”
Simon shook his head. “I thought it rather odd how he didn’t seem ready to skewer the man who’d ruined his daughter. In fact, he actually seemed uncertain what to do about my proposal—as though he wanted to accept it, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.”
“Father always liked you,” she said lightly. “Titled or not.”
“At one point,” Simon mused, “he even said ‘Simon, let me see if I can’t talk some sense into that stubborn female.’ I’d assumed he was referring to your mother.”
Georgiana nodded. “She is obstinate. And even more of a snob than Father.”
“It never occurred to me,” he said slowly, “that it might be you who needed to be talked into marrying me.”
Her expression must have given her away because Simon visibly flinched. “It’s true, isn’t it? Your family didn’t refuse me. You did.”
“It’s not that I wasn’t fond of you, Simon,” she said quickly. “I was very much infatuated with you. And our kiss that night was...it was wondrous, but—”
Simon’s demeanor was calm, but his tone was dark. “Did he know I was the one who compromised you?”
An Inconvenient Kiss Page 21