Sins of a Virgin (Sinners Trio)

Home > Romance > Sins of a Virgin (Sinners Trio) > Page 21
Sins of a Virgin (Sinners Trio) Page 21

by Anna Randol


  Madeline had to grip his shoulders to prevent her knees from buckling, as much from surprise at everything he’d noticed as from the pleasure of his touch.

  Gabriel’s hands locked around her lower back and pulled her flush against him. “Then there is one last thing—your pardon only came six months ago. Nothing about you adds up. So there’s no point denying the truth.”

  She shifted against the bulge in his trousers, desperate to buy herself a reprieve from responding, even if only for an instant. “Just as there’s no denying that you want me.”

  Gabriel’s voice was hoarse. “I’ve never been fool enough to attempt that lie. Now tell me the identity of the woman I’m about to ravish.”

  “I will.”

  Gabriel’s shock at her agreement matched her own. But it felt right. He’d be an asset in capturing whoever was threatening her.

  “Tomorrow,” she added.

  Gabriel’s hands dug into her shoulders. “Madeline—”

  “It’s not an excuse. I need permission to share my secret. It’s not mine alone.” She couldn’t expose Ian and Clayton without their consent.

  “I have your word?”

  “You’d trust it?”

  His gaze held steady.

  “Then you have it, inasmuch as I can give it. If I can, tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you everything.”

  Gabriel’s growl sounded remarkably triumphant before his mouth crashed down on hers. His lips were fierce and demanding, but in her excited state, nothing less was acceptable. His tongue battled with hers, stroking, thrusting, and twisting until they broke apart to breathe.

  The oxygen restored a small part of her brain. “Nothing we do can affect the auction.”

  “I didn’t for a moment dare to believe otherwise.”

  Madeline smiled in anticipation, any disappointment at his quick agreement tucked away. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to pleasure a man. She tugged off his cravat and nibbled the flesh of his neck. He tried to drag her back to his mouth but she resisted. She dragged her fingernails over the expanse of his chest, the fine linen of his shirt rasping under her fingernails. His groan of pleasure told her he was no different from the rest of the males of the species.

  Her hand slid down his abdomen, then over the waistband of his trousers. With a light finger, she traced the contours of his arousal, pausing at the tip to run her finger in a slow circle. He bucked against her.

  She lowered her voice to a throaty purr. “You seem to like that.”

  Gabriel caught her hand and pulled it away. “I’m not looking for the seductress.”

  She tensed at his words. She’d warned him she’d earned the title of whore. Had he expected her to be timid and innocent?

  But he kept talking. “I want no acting between us. You only do what you want to do, not what you think you should. I don’t want the courtesan. I want Madeline.”

  Cold invaded every inch of Madeline’s body, save where Gabriel’s hand rested on her wrist. She shivered. “I don’t know if she even exists.” She whispered the confession.

  Gabriel outlined the edge of her jaw. “She does. I’ve seen her once or twice. Shall we find her?”

  He led her to the edge of the fountain, removed his jacket, and laid it over the damp marble for her to sit on. He stepped back. “Now close your eyes.”

  She complied with a nervous breath.

  His lips brushed hers with a feather-light caress. “Did you like that?”

  “Of course, I—”

  But his finger on her lips silenced her. “Don’t give me the answer you think will please me. Give me the truth.”

  His lips barely caressed hers again.

  This time she stayed silent and let the sensations from the kiss linger as she examined her reaction. “I want more.”

  “More?” he asked.

  “More pressure. More speed.”

  His lips slanted across hers, the wicked, wondrous pleasure bursting into focus.

  Her arms anchored her to the edge of the fountain, but then she realized she should probably put them to use. She started to twine them around his neck but he stopped her again.

  Her eyes flew open.

  “Do you want to put your arms around me? Or do you think you should?” he asked.

  Madeline slowly lowered them back to her sides, but lifted her lips. This time solely for the pure, blissful reason that she wanted Gabriel to claim them again.

  As he kissed her, he slid the single sleeve of her toga down her arm, lowering it until her breasts were exposed to the night air and moonlight. And his gaze.

  Gabriel studied her, as if he were memorizing the sight of her body. She liked him staring, liked the taut control writ over his face. She flicked the few strands of hair that had fallen in front of her shoulder out of the way so he had an unobstructed view.

  “You aren’t shy at all, are you?”

  A smile tugged the corners of her lips. Apparently, not all her wantonness had been an act. Should she be pleased or dismayed? She settled for bemused. “It would seem neither version of me is.”

  Gabriel knelt before her. “Good. It would be a crime to hide perfection like this.” He leaned forward and kissed the valley between her breasts. With a slight turn of his head, his mouth moved on to the sensitive skin on the side of her breast.

  Madeline’s head fell back as his fingers encircled the aching flesh. Pleasure, wild, uncontrollable, and raw flowed through her. Other men had touched her breasts, even men she’d found attractive. And she’d enjoyed their touch, but never before had she been driven mad by it, as if a single flick of his fingers had claimed her. As if she’d cease to exist if his lips halted their ministrations.

  No one had ever made love to her before.

  Even in her fevered state, the thought jarred her.

  Men had used her for their own satisfaction. If they bothered to fondle her, it had been to increase their own enjoyment. Any pleasure she’d garnered, she’d snatched in passing.

  But Gabriel’s touches were for her. To make the lights swim dizzily behind her eyelids. To make her lungs burn as if she’d just run the length of Hadrian’s Wall.

  Gabriel’s lips continued their progress across her breast. He laved a slow circle over her nipple, then drew the aching nub into his mouth, alternating sucking and tracing circles around the dusky ring.

  Madeline couldn’t think rationally. Gabriel was making love to her outside on the edge of a fountain. It was freezing cold. He wasn’t offering her money or information. He offered nothing more than this moment of bliss.

  Yet every consideration fled as Gabriel licked his way down to her navel.

  He rose to his feet and pulled her upright. With a few tugs, her toga created a white puddle on the gravel path.

  Gabriel’s lips returned to her mouth as his hands slipped to the edge of the soft curls between her legs.

  “Wait.”

  Gabriel froze, but his breath came in harsh pants.

  “This is about what I want?”

  Gabriel’s fingers danced over her face in a butterfly’s caress. “Yes.”

  Madeline leaned forward and nipped his lower lip. “Then I want you naked as well.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Gabriel wasn’t sure if he could stand Madeline’s hands on him. She’d barely touched him, yet he already verged on explosion. But he’d granted the temptress her desires, so he didn’t interfere as she made quick work of his buttons.

  Once they’d discarded his waistcoat and shirt, Gabriel pressed his hands along her back, nearly groaning at the sensation of her breasts against his bare chest.

  A mischievous grin lit her face. “Trying to steal my body heat?” Her eyes were mysterious in the near darkness, but they were clear and honest with no hint of pretense.

  The look was far more erotic than anything he’d ever experienced. “You think I am seeking your heat?” His hand slipped between her legs and she gasped, jerking in his arms, her head thrown bac
k. “I think this is where I should look.” He nuzzled the velvet skin beneath her ear. “Hmm . . .” He teased her with a slow finger. “Definitely hot.” He dipped his finger a fraction inside her. “And wet—” He meant to say more, but he was distracted by her delicate, spicy scent. She smelled warm and feminine and entirely delicious.

  Her breath emerged in shuddered whispers. She arched against his hand, begging for more.

  He increased the tempo of his hand, and her cries increased to incoherent syllables. Her nails raked his shoulders as she bucked wildly against him.

  Her hand found its way to the waistband of his trousers. Then lower.

  With a growl, he placed her on the edge of the fountain again. She blinked up at him. “But I wanted to touch you.”

  It took every ounce of restraint not to take her up on the offer in her eyes. “But I’m not finished with you yet.” He dropped to his knees in front of her and kissed the inside of her knee.

  Her gulp was audible as his mouth worked up the creamy skin of her inner thighs. They were sleek and perfectly formed. As he reached the middle of her thigh, he moved his hands to her knees to widen them. She resisted for an instant, then let her legs fall open, granting him access to her soft feminine core. He pulled back.

  Her eyes were wide with arousal but also a hint of wariness.

  “I think you’ll like this.”

  She responded with a flush that started at the swells of her breasts, then darkened her face. But she didn’t flinch or look away. Not his Madeline.

  “I rather think I will.”

  Then he lowered his lips and tasted her. After only a few brushes of his tongue, she clutched his hair. “Gabriel!”

  Her fingers twisted in his hair as she welcomed the increased pressure of his mouth. Suddenly, she stiffened, his name a gasping cry on her lips. She threw her head back, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

  Gabriel treasured each imperfect, broken moan that escaped her as she climaxed.

  He swept her onto his lap and she smiled at him, the grin open and relaxed with just a touch of awe.

  She was so utterly perfect.

  His Madeline.

  She stayed nestled there for a brief moment, then pulled away. Her hand slid down his chest to caress the proof of his arousal pressing against her thigh. “My turn.”

  Madeline knew Gabriel was tempted to stop her, but she’d have none of that. For the first time in her life, she wanted to use her skills not for an assigned task, but for the pure enjoyment of it.

  Her body throbbed with residual pleasure as she tried to slide off Gabriel’s lap, but his arm tightened around her waist, stopping her.

  “You don’t have to,” he whispered against her neck. His hands covered her breasts as he spoke. The heat languidly moving through her veins instantly reignited.

  “I know. I want to do this.” She shifted against him.

  “Are you sure you don’t want this instead?” His hand trailed down to the aching place between her legs, effectively distracting her from her goal. She whispered his name again and again as he drove her to the edge of that blissful cliff and then sent her soaring over the precipice.

  In her former profession, she’d been trained to always use endearments in bed. It removed the risk of shouting out the wrong man’s name at inopportune moments.

  But Gabriel’s name tumbled from her lips. It felt as instinctive as breathing.

  Rather than pondering that disturbing fact, she scrambled off him before he could tempt her again. “Now as I was saying before I was rudely distracted—”

  “Rudely?”

  She gave the question mock consideration. “Pleasantly.”

  “Pleasant?”

  She laughed and darted out of the way of his grasp. If he caught her, she’d never have the chance to pleasure him, and she was strangely eager to do so. “Exquisitely interrupted.”

  Gabriel sat back, the hard muscles of his chest rippling from the simple movement. “Better.”

  “I want to pleasure you, Gabriel.”

  His exhale was harsh, and tendons bulged along his forearms where he gripped the edge of the fountain. “Madeline, I don’t expect this of you. I don’t think of you as—”

  She stopped his words with a kiss. “Are you truly going to refuse me?”

  He searched her face for an instant. “I’m not noble enough for that.”

  She tugged him to his feet, then unfastened his trousers, easing them down. With a smile of pure feminine satisfaction, she took his hard length in her hand, tracing the velvety contours. Gabriel tensed, his body stiff with control. If not for the heat pulsing under her fingers, he might have been a statue.

  A very erotic statue.

  She lowered herself on the side of the fountain and brought him to her mouth, her lips brushing him as she spoke. “So aren’t you glad I’m not a lady?”

  But he seemed to have lost the ability or perhaps just the inclination to speak. Except for the occasional groan, Gabriel was silent as she pleasured him. But she quickly learned to read his body’s responses. The clench of his fists. The tightening of his buttocks. The ripple of the muscles in his abdomen. The twitch in his shoulders. All providing clues as to his most sensitive areas and his preferred sensations and tempo.

  Madeline took note of each discovery, adding it to her arsenal, drawing on his favorites over and over again. Her experience had also alerted her when he was nearing his climax so she could draw him back, only to return him to the brink.

  Madeline hadn’t lied when she said this was for her. She loved him in her mouth and on her tongue. She loved that she had the power to give him this pleasure.

  She also loved the way he looked at her as if he’d never seen anything so incredible. She’d never been vain about her looks. But Gabriel made her want to stroll through the ballroom with nothing on but a grin.

  Although she feared she’d never have her fill of him, she took pity on him, drawing him deep and hard into her mouth. That finally broke his silence. As his hips jerked with tight thrusts, her name issued from his lips in a guttural growl she savored down to her toes.

  After he stilled, Madeline slowly drew away from him. Gabriel’s finger traced down her cheek in a lingering caress, then he drew up his pants and gathered her clothing and his own.

  With their lust sated, the cold finally began to penetrate and Madeline shivered. She shook out the toga, then hurried and pulled on the meager protection.

  Odd, but for as many men as she’d seduced in the past ten years, she’d never had to deal with an afterward. The sedative she gave them always took effect no more than a few minutes in. She left them sleeping while she escaped with the information she’d been sent to collect.

  But it wasn’t in her nature to be shy, not even in a situation like this. So she smiled at him.

  The smile slowly faded. Neither was it in her nature to be foolishly sentimental. While Gabriel might feel warmly toward her, he had no intentions toward her.

  Neither was he a man to want her back after she’d sold her virginity. And while that small piece of skin might still be intact, she had ceased being a virgin long ago.

  She was a whore.

  Hadn’t she just proved it?

  No, their lovemaking hadn’t been soulless, yet not even in the darkest corner of her mind would she examine what it had been.

  “Well, we no longer have that simmering between us.” But she knew it for a lie even as the words left her mouth. All she had to do was look at him and the heat threatened again. “Or at least, we’re adult enough to enjoy ourselves while not letting it interfere with our goals.”

  Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “You can make love like that, then walk into the ballroom and resume your auction?”

  Madeline smoothed her skirt with a flick of her hand. “I believe I’ve always been clear on that.”

  She strode back to the ballroom before he could speak again.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “So you wan
t to tell your Runner.” Ian’s question was more of a statement. He opened the lids of the few dishes arranged on the table a second time. “Is Canterbury spiting me, or is this really the way you’ve been eating?”

  Madeline scooped half the eggs he’d helped himself to onto her plate. “If you’re going to complain, Ian, you don’t have to eat.”

  Ian pulled his plate closer to him with a scowl and shoveled a pile of eggs into his mouth.

  Clayton watched them with resignation while buttering his toast with the same precision with which he addressed everything in his life. “Ian said Huntford was sneaking about in your room a few nights ago.”

  Madeline nodded. The fact, although new, was unsurprising. “Do you think I would have let myself rest if there’d been anything for him to find?”

  Ian spoke with his mouth full. “Why the sudden urge to bare your soul?”

  “If you think it will improve his opinion of you, you’re mistaken. In the eyes of the English, a female spy is worse than a camp follower,” Clayton said.

  “I don’t want his good opinion.” After all, what would that do but make things more awkward?

  Instead, she explained the two additional attempts on her life as well as the threat from the night before, repeating the exact words from the masked man three times at Clayton’s request.

  Clayton’s knife had stilled. “Why haven’t I heard of these other attacks?” His dark gaze could have been hiding anything from guilt to rage. She suspected it was a touch of both. It was often difficult to read Clayton, even for Madeline.

  She sipped at her tea as she considered the question. She hadn’t told them because Gabriel knew and that had seemed enough. Odd. She had long relied on Clayton to pick meaning out of chaos and Ian to lay plans to address it.

  “I knew about the attacks,” Ian admitted. He shrugged in a manner he thought mysterious, but had instead become rather irritating after the first month they’d known each other. All the shrug really meant was that he was determined to be stubborn.

 

‹ Prev