Her breath was jerked from her body as he lightly circled her straining nipples in a teasing motion.
“Oh…good lord…”
With a low growl, Edward lowered his head to capture the tip of her breast in his mouth. Bianca smothered a cry of pleasure as she arched upward. Over and over his tongue tormented the hardened nub as she reached up to dig her fingers into his upper arms. No matter how many nights she might have dreamed of being made love to by this man, nothing could have prepared her for the blaze of sensations that shimmered through her.
Closing his lips over the straining nipple, he lightly caught the tip with his teeth, using his tongue with erotic skill.
Bianca clenched her teeth, unable to even think as delicious waves of delight speared through her.
She was pliant clay being molded by the hands of a most tender artist.
Suckling with growing insistence, Edward trailed his fingers down the quivering muscles of her stomach, his touch turning her blood to molten lava and tightening the knot of need that burned between her thighs.
With exquisite care he explored every inch of her satin skin, circling her belly button and drifting over her thighs before slowly moving upward.
Bianca squeezed her eyes shut. He was tormenting her beyond bearing, but while she writhed beneath his touch the pleading words remained locked in her throat. As desperate as she was to reach that shattering conclusion, another part of her longed to prolong the delight.
This was precisely as she had dreamed it would be, she silently moaned. A blaze of sensations that seared her to her very soul.
Lifting her hands to thrust them in the softness of his hair, Bianca directed his attention to her neglected breast. He readily tugged the nipple between his lips as his fingers stroked as light as a butterfly wing along the line of her cleft.
Bianca nearly leaped off the pillows. Lordy…
“Please, Edward,” she rasped.
His head lifted and their gazes collided. In the shadows his features were hard with a raw desire that he did not bother to disguise.
“I want to watch you, muirnin,” he murmured in the hushed silence.
Uncertain what he meant, Bianca opened her lips to demand an explanation only to have the words come out as a groan when his fingers dipped into the damp heat between her legs.
Her hips lifted as she gripped his shoulders. She was spinning away from the world, and the only thing left was the feel of his expert caresses.
Slowly his finger sank into her, his clever thumb brushing over the precise point of her pleasure.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Like this, muirnin?” he demanded as he began a slow, steady rhythm that clenched her muscles to a near-unbearable tightness.
Every stroke sent a flame of need surging through her, and Bianca found her breath coming in short gasps.
“Oh, yes.”
“No, look at me, Bianca,” he commanded as her lashes began to drift downward. “I want to see into your eyes.”
With an effort, she met his smoldering gaze, her hands grasping the pillows as she gritted her teeth. A powerful force was building deep within her, and she feared she would soon be spiraling beyond control.
Keeping the same steady pace, Edward slipped a second finger into her heat, stretching her with gentle care. Bianca dug her teeth into her lower lip until she nearly brought blood.
The sweet release beckoned just beyond her reach. So close. Her hips lifted in a silent plea, but Edward refused to quicken his movements.
“Edward…please…”
“What do you need, Bianca?” he husked, his body stiff with his own restrained desire. “Tell me.”
“You,” she panted. “I need you.”
“Bianca.” He sucked in a harsh breath.
For a moment he seemed to pause, and her entire body froze. No. Not now. He could not deny her when they were so close.
“Now, Edward. I need you now.”
He closed his eyes as if in pain. Bianca tensed, and then with a groan that was wrenched from deep in his throat Edward was moving to cover her body with his own.
She sighed in pure pleasure as his solid weight pressed her into the pillows. His hair-roughened skin rasped against her own to create a rash of excitement, his warm scent filling her head.
It felt so utterly right as he cradled his hips between her legs, his chest rubbing her aching nipples. As if he somehow completed her.
Allowing her hands to run down the width of his back, Bianca tested the hard muscles that rippled beneath her touch. He was sheer male.
And he was all hers.
She smiled as the love she felt for this man poured through her entire being.
This was why his touch ignited the fire within her. Why only his kisses created the frenzy of need that held her in its grip.
It was more than his raw masculine perfection. More than his skillful touch.
It was the knowledge deep in her heart that he was the man meant to share her life for all eternity.
Her hands reached the smooth curve of his buttocks, and Bianca felt him shudder as she cupped him with restless desire.
His hooded gaze swept over her countenance as he leaned upon his elbows.
“Tell me this is real, muirnin,” he demanded. “Tell me this is not just a dream.”
She reached up to frame his face in her hands. “This is no dream, my love.”
“My love,” he echoed, the tender yearning in his voice nearly bringing tears to her eyes. “Am I your love?”
“For all eternity,” she swore.
A shiver wracked his body as he lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips over her flushed features.
“You hold my heart in your hands,” he murmured against her temple. “There is no going back for either of us.”
His breath whispered over her skin as he shifted between her legs and the head of his shaft pressed against her entrance.
There was a flutter of alarm as she felt herself being stretched far beyond what she had imagined.
“Edward?” she breathed.
His lips moved to nibble at the edge of her mouth. “All will be well, Bianca. Trust in me.”
And she did.
She trusted that he would always take care of her. Always do what was best for the both of them.
Closing her eyes, she forced herself to relax, concentrating on the sensation of his erection relentlessly shifting deeper into her damp heat. Beneath her fingers his muscles trembled from the effort of leashing his powerful need, and she sensed when he paused at the barrier of her innocence.
“Bianca, I think it would be best if this was done swiftly,” he rasped, his damp forehead pressed to her own.
She swallowed heavily, shaking from a combination of edgy unease and frustrated desire.
“Yes.”
The word had barely tumbled from her lips when his hips flexed and with one smooth thrust he was buried to the very core of her.
Her tiny yelp was more one of surprise than pain, and as he pressed his lips to the curve of her throat, her aching passion was swiftly flamed back to life.
“That is…amazing,” she murmured.
He gave a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a groan.
“We have only just begun,” he promised, trailing his mouth over her skin to at last kiss her with a devouring hunger.
Instinctively Bianca lifted her hips as he began to rock softly against her. With each thrust his tongue stroked into her mouth, the matching rhythm building the tension that was centered low in her stomach.
Her fingers flexed as a moan was lodged in her throat. The sheer intimacy of having him sheathed in her body was astonishing. Never had she felt so connected to another. As if they had entwined into one soul.
His breath rasped in the shadowed silence as he pulled nearly out of her body and plunged back within. Her legs shifted to wrap about him, unwittingly opening herself to his quickening pace.
“Hell’s teeth, you feel
so good.” he muttered against her lips. “So tight. So hot.”
She was hot. She was on fire, burning from the inside out.
She stirred restlessly beneath him. His every movement was rubbing against her cleft, increasing her pleasure to a near-unbearable peak.
“I cannot…,” she moaned.
“Stay with me, muirnin,” he commanded, his head lowering to take her breast in his mouth.
Using his teeth and tongue, he tormented her tight nipple, the wave of sensations soaring her ever upward.
Her breath evaporated as she hovered on a golden edge. Her body was clenched so tightly she was certain she would shatter apart. And then with a final, branding surge he toppled her over the edge into a whirlwind of pulsing bliss.
Her soft scream mingled with his low groan of completion as he slumped atop her, both of them lost in sublime release.
Time passed, a moment or an eternity, before Edward shifted to his side and pulled her into his arms. With a sigh Bianca rested her head on his chest, a sense of wonderment clouding her mind.
“I wish I had the words to tell you what you mean to me,
Bianca,” he whispered as he nuzzled her ear. “I never thought to feel what I feel for you.”
Bianca smiled, brushing his skin with her lips. He did not need the words. His every touch spoke of his love.
“I do hope that means you intend to wed me, my lord,” she teased. “I fear I have become quite addicted to your kisses.”
His arms tightened until she feared she would not be able to breathe.
“Nothing will keep you from being my bride, muirnin. Not even God Himself.”
The oddest tingle of warning inched down her spine at his fierce words.
Ridiculous, perhaps. But she suddenly wished that he had not dared fate with such reckless disregard.
There was nothing more certain to call down misfortune.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Early in the afternoon, Hellion’s Den was nearly silent. Only the sound of scurrying servants preparing for the night ahead broke the silence.
Seated at one of the numerous tables scattered about the room, Edward regarded the thin, rat-faced gentleman settled across from him. A wry smile touched Edward’s lips.
After a sleepless night, his companion’s scarlet coat and pink waistcoat were near painful to endure, but it was the fiercely twitching nose that held his attention.
He had not expected Biddles to be overjoyed with his announcement that he was to offer for Lady Bianca. In fact, he was quite prepared for a tedious lecture.
Not that he was particularly concerned, he conceded with a smile that refused to be dismissed. No one would be allowed to dim the giddy happiness that held him in its grip.
Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms over his chest.
“You might as well have your say, old friend,” he encouraged. “I fear you will burst if you do not get it out of your system.”
“I would prefer to shake some sense into you,” Biddles groused, taking a long draw from his flask. “Unfortunately, you are far too large a lummox for it to do any good.”
Edward gave a lift of his brows. “Lummox?”
“Slow-witted, paper sapskull who does not have the sense to avoid the most obvious trap ever laid for a man,” Biddles clarified without apology.
“I suppose you are referring to Lady Bianca?”
Biddles leaned forward, his pale eyes glittering. “The woman is a blatant opportunist.”
“Opportunist?” He gave a short laugh. “You are wide of the mark there, old friend. There is little to be gained by wedding me. Indeed, I do not doubt most will believe she has married quite beneath herself.”
Biddles narrowed his gaze. “You are no longer a penniless farmer, Edward. You are an earl with enough wealth to attract the most fastidious schemer.”
“Are you branding Lady Bianca a rank fortune hunter?”
“She told you herself she must wed for wealth.”
Edward’s warm glow did not falter, but there was no denying that the smooth thrust slid home. Biddles spoke nothing but the truth. Bianca was in need of a fortune. And a gentleman willing to haul her family from beneath the hatches.
Perhaps foolishly he had nearly forgotten.
Could it be that she had decided he was less repulsive than the suitors being thrust down her throat by her father? Had she decided that being the wife of a simple farmer was somehow preferable to being a pawn for a gentleman in search of power?
His chest tightened before he was fiercely thrusting away the disturbing thought.
No.
He would not doubt her.
He had held her in his arms, felt her passion and heard her cry out his name as she reached her climax. Not even the most proficient actress could respond with such fervor to his touch.
“I admire her loyalty to her family,” he retorted firmly.
Biddles clicked his tongue in annoyance. “And it does not bother you that she considers you no more than a means to an end?”
“I believe she has come to care for me.”
“She would, of course, wish you to believe that,” Biddles pointed out. “She is hardly likely to reveal her true feelings so long as she needs you to wed her.”
Edward clenched his jaw with a stubborn refusal to be swayed. Damn and blast, why could his friend not simply be pleased for him?
God knew he had never been so happy.
“You are very cynical, Biddles.”
“I am practical,” his friend corrected, his expression somber. “I have been among society far too long not to have seen any number of friends brought to their knees by a devious female. I would not have that happen to you.”
Edward forced his stiff muscles to relax. He did not doubt that Biddles was truly concerned for him. Or that he believed he was doing what was best.
He could not be angry for possessing a friend who desired only to protect him.
His warm smile returned to his lips. “I appreciate your concern, but it is not necessary. Bianca is the only woman I wish to be my wife. I will have no other.”
There was a long pause as Biddles studied his determined expression. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his seat.
“There seems to be nothing left for me to do but wish you well,” he admitted in resigned tones.
“Actually, there is one more thing.”
“What is that?”
“I wish you to stand at my side when I say my vows.”
The pale eyes widened as a pleased smile curved the gentleman’s lips.
“I can think of no greater honor, my friend.”
“Thank you.” Rising to his feet, Edward sucked in a deep breath. One hurdle crossed. Unfortunately there was one still in his path. “And now…to confront the Duke. I do not suppose you have any suggestions?”
Biddles arched a brow as his smile turned sly. “You might wish to guard your…ummm…precious jewels. At some point you shall no doubt be in need of an heir.”
Edward winced in spite of himself. “As always, you are the greatest of comfort.”
“I do my best.”
“You are an evil man,” Edward complained.
Biddles produced a lacy handkerchief to dab at his nose. “Do you know, I seem to hear that with alarming frequency.”
The elegant gentleman’s club on St. James Street possessed all the comfort of a country home. Across the white and black marble hall the curved staircase led directly to the great subscription room where the younger blood attempted their luck at quintze and hazard.
It was all but empty in the early afternoon hours, and Edward did not pause as he moved toward a back, book-lined room where the Duke of Lockharte was well known to enjoy his weekly luncheon in privacy.
He was not disappointed as he stepped over the threshold and regarded the large, silver-haired gentleman settled in a distant corner.
Edward took a moment to gather his nerve before slowly crossing the carpet to sta
nd beside the table that held the scraps of a beefsteak and a decanter of burgundy.
He waited with growing impatience for the nobleman to at last raise his head from the newspaper he had been scanning to stab him with a steely gaze.
“Yes?”
He offered a low bow. “Your Grace. May I join you?”
A shrewd glint entered the blue eyes. “I sense I could not halt you even should I desire.”
“I do have a matter of some urgency I wish to discuss with you,” Edward conceded.
The elder man waved a hand toward a nearby chair. “Oh, halt your hovering and have a seat.” Waiting until Edward had settled himself in the leather chair, he reached forward to pour two glasses from the decanter. “Burgundy?”
Edward readily took the proffered spirit, grateful that it had not been tossed in his face or poured over his head.
“Thank you.”
The Duke took a deep sip of the burgundy, pausing as he tested the richness upon his tongue before at last swallowing.
“Ah. Not quite so fine as mine, but passable. How do you find the Harrington cellars?”
Edward blinked at the abrupt question. He had expected…what?
Disdain? Anger? Aloof indifference?
Certainly not the near-pleasant tone that was somehow more unnerving than any angry outburst.
“To be honest I have yet to inspect them,” he reluctantly confessed.
“You are not a connoisseur?”
Wondering if he were about to be cast as an irredeemable philistine, Edward gave a shake of his head.
“I fear not.”
The mild expression did not alter. Thank the Lord.
“What are your interests?”
Edward paused before heaving an inward sigh. Obviously if he was not to be damned for one sin, it would be for another.
“Farming.”
“Farming?” the Duke growled.
Edward gave a shrug of his shoulder. “I am intrigued with the latest technology and inventions that have been produced in the past few years. I have already implemented many of them at my own estates and discovered them to be an invaluable investment. I hope to establish similar changes throughout the Harrington estates.”
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