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Scandalous by Night

Page 17

by Barbara Pierce


  He seized her wrists, wrapped the fabric around them, and secured them together with a knot. Everod hauled her arms above her head. “Or more importantly, do you really want to deny me?”

  Ignoring her protests, he tied her bound wrists to the bedpost. Maura tugged and discovered the knot was tight. She squirmed under his heated stare. “Townsend, untie me. What if someone checks on me?”

  “Unless you were anticipating a visit from me—”

  “Ha! Your delusions are truly extraordinary.”

  Chuckling at her aggravation, he traced the outline of her body with his hands. “Your state of undress leaves me to conclude that you were supposed to be resting. I am certain the servants have been ordered not to disturb you,” he said knowingly.

  “What are you doing?” Maura demanded, her voice rising as he knelt in front of her. His mouth was inches away from her nether curls.

  With his hands on her hips, Everod replied, “Anything I desire.”

  Maura tested his knots again. He had managed to bind her wrists without hurting her, but she would not be free until Everod decided to release her. She wet her dry lips with a flick of her tongue.

  “Enough games,” she groaned, when he pressed a kiss to her belly and stood. “If you think to leave me in this embarrassing predicament for my maid to discover me, I—”

  His nimble fingers went to his cravat as he glanced at her abandoned tray on the dressing table. “Hush.” He undid the knot at his throat, allowing the long ends to dangle down the front of his shirt. “What do we have here?” He picked up the small green glass bottle next to the teapot.

  Maura stomped her foot. “Exactly what it seems. Aunt Georgette has been worried about the household succumbing to the illness that ails your father. She is insisting that all of us imbibe her tonic.”

  “So she still dabbles with her witch brews, eh?” he said, promptly setting the bottle down. “And this?”

  “Strawberry jam, you ninny!” Maura curled her fingers around the bedpost and shook it. “If you are hungry, I will send for another tray.”

  Her stomach fluttered at his wicked smile. He sauntered back to her with the pot of jam. “A tray will be unnecessary when I have a tempting feast in front of me.”

  Everod placed the pot at the edge of her bed. With his unique amber-green eyes fixed on her face, he pulled the thin leather strip that bound his hair at his nape. Against her will, her nipples constricted into painful nubs as she remembered how his shoulder-length hair tickled the last time he brushed it over her breasts.

  Recalling her response, too, Everod cupped her breast. “So sensitive. There is no guile in your responses when I put my hands on you, is there?”

  Her body always seemed to react to his proximity. His touch. When he let his hand drop away from her breast, she ached for the loss. “Free me, and I will show you.” Maura watched as he removed his coat and laid it on her bed. His shirt was next.

  “Later,” he said, laughing when she growled at him. He gripped the opposite bedpost to gain some leverage so that he could remove his boots. “You’d make a lovely sacrifice, Maura. A pity I don’t worship one of the ancient gods that demanded them.”

  Everod unbuttoned the falls on his breeches. The waist of his breeches slipped, hanging low on his hips. Through the opening, she had a tantalizing glimpse of the dark whorls of hair. He was aroused, painfully so, she thought, if the large bulge in the front of his breeches was any indication. Everod, however, undressed unhurriedly as if he had all afternoon to tease and play with her.

  “So if you have discarded sacrifice for the afternoon, what are your intentions?” Maura asked, her gaze curiously shifting to the small silver pot on her bed.

  Grinning, Everod scooped up the pot of strawberry jam. He dipped his finger into the pot and brought his jam-coated finger to his lips. “Mmm … I warrant I can be creative when the mood strikes me.”

  He plunged his fingers into the jam.

  “Everod!” Maura squeaked, when he coated her left nipple with the sticky fruit preserve. “No. No. You go too far!”

  “You will be amazed how daring I can be with a willing lady tied to the bed,” he countered, a little too politely.

  The viscount was not finished painting her body. After he smeared strawberry jam on her right nipple, he dipped two fingers into the silver pot again, and decorated her abdomen with a meandering line down to the nest of curls between her legs.

  “Enough,” she protested, her terse command ruined with a giggle when he dipped his tongue into her navel to lick away the evidence. “My dress will not require pins or tapes this evening because of your naughty mischief.”

  Everod stood, uncaring that her jam-covered nipples were marking his chest. “The jam is quite delicious. Taste it.” He teased her lower lip until she parted her lips.

  Maura closed her eyes, savoring the sweet strawberry jam on her tongue. She moaned as she suckled his sticky fingers. The playful expression on his face sobered at the sensual sound. Withdrawing his fingers from her mouth, he slanted his mouth over hers. A gentle dance with their tongues commenced.

  “I usually prefer my jam on toast,” she murmured huskily against his mouth.

  “Too dry.” He pecked her lips, and knelt in front of her. “Too mundane.”

  Everod nibbled lightly at the curve of her breast, before covering her nipple and areola with his mouth. Maura shivered against the bedpost as he used the flat of his tongue to lave away the strawberry jam from her breasts. “Your flesh definitely improves the flavor of the jam,” he mumbled, his hot breath and lips moving down her body. “Certain places of your body are salty, while others are unquestionably spicy.”

  He dipped his fingers into the pot of jam, and set it on the floor beside them. “I’m a man with a predilection to experiment until I find the right flavor to satisfy my considerable appetites.” Everod placed his hand above her knee in a placating gesture. She sensed his goal before he used his thumbs to part her nether lips.

  The back of her head collided with the bedpost at the first cool viscous stroke of the jam against the sensitive nubbin tucked within her feminine folds. Impatient to taste her, Everod followed his fingers with his agile tongue, licking away the sweetness.

  Her womb clenched as she arched against him, her body vibrating with need. The dampness she had experienced earlier became a hidden hot spring. If her hands had been free, she would have worked her fingers into his hair and pressed his face deeper. “Townsend,” she whispered, sighing as his fingers parted her, seeking her womanly sheath.

  Everod wiped his wet lips against his upper arm. “Spicy and soothing as sweet honey,” he said, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth in an excruciating manner. “Amor Veneris, vel dulcedo, Mateo Columbo dubbed a lady’s hidden jewel. Such beauty combined with a lady’s soft cries of pleasure tend to inspire a man to honor his discovery with poetical praise.”

  He lifted Maura’s right leg, and placed it on his shoulder. The subtle shift in their positions widened her stance, giving Everod complete control over the pleasure he was wringing from her body.

  Oh, the pleasure!

  Maura twisted the bindings at her wrists to no avail. Everod understood the workings of her body better than she did. He licked the indentation near her hip and she trembled. He probed and teased the slick satin flesh between her nether lips, driving her to the brink of madness. She was prepared to offer him anything.

  “Anything,” she sobbed, her breath coming out in gasps.

  They both knew what she was asking, nay begging, for.

  Only Everod could ease the tension he had deliberately created within her. With her hips moving against his questing mouth and talented fingers, Maura bit her lip to keep from screaming when the first bubble of pleasure exploded. Everod flinched at her muffled shriek. Seizing both hips with his hands, he used his tongue to nuzzle the origin of those delightful ripples, feasting on her excitement like a ravenous beast.

  Maura gripped the bed
post for support. Completely vulnerable to him, she closed her eyes and allowed wave after wave of pleasure to buffet her body.

  Weakened by his carnal onslaught, Maura stared at him sleepily as she watched him rise like the warrior that Everod was, and hastily shed his breeches.

  His thick rod pulsed with its own need to conquer.

  Instead of untying her, he turned her so she was facing the bedpost. He positioned her right knee against the soft mattress, while at the same time, he guided his arousal along the crease of her buttocks until he found the heat he sought.

  “I’ve tasted your pleasure,” Everod whispered in her ear from behind. “Now I want to feel it squeeze my cock.”

  His penetration was swift and deep. Maura inhaled sharply, expecting some discomfort, but her body required no coaxing from Everod. His rod moved in and out of her sheath as if he were a part of her.

  Maura held on to the bedpost to buffer his frenzied pummeling. Everod had wrapped one arm around her waist, and the other remained buried in her wet nether curls. His teasing demeanor had vanished as he sought his pleasure. Maura could not deny him. Already, the tension he had released earlier was coiling like a spring within her womb. She craved this wild coupling as much as he did.

  Everod made a choking sound, and he pressed his face into her shoulder. Maura felt his rod swell within her, before he thrust deeply, holding himself still in her sweet welcoming depths. As he muffled his shout of triumph against her damp skin, she felt the hot jet of his seed fill her.

  Shaken by his release, Everod continued tiny, undemanding thrusts while he shuddered against her. Finally, and with reluctance, he withdrew his rod from her sheath. Everod reached over Maura’s head, and freed her wrists from the linen bindings.

  Maura rubbed her arms and wrists, belatedly becoming aware of the abuse her arms had endured during their lovemaking. Everod picked her up, and tenderly laid her on the bed. Her gaze drifted to his rod, amazed to discover that he was still firm and primed.

  Everod climbed on top of her, bracing his arms on each side of her head. “When will your maid wake you?”

  “Half past six o’clock,” Maura replied, playing with his hair. From this angle, Everod’s scar was vulnerable to her perusal, but she kept her face carefully blank. Perhaps he was testing her to see if she would pity him. She sensed that if she acknowledged the scar in any way, Everod would leave her.

  Maura did not want him to go. The realization frightened her. She knew better than most that she could not keep him.

  Unaware of her thought, Everod kissed her. “Then we have hours yet.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Everod awoke with a start.

  For a few precious seconds, he was puzzled by the unfamiliar bed, and then he recalled where he was.

  Rolling onto his side, the viscount impassively studied his sleeping lover. Completely relaxed and exhausted by their lovemaking, Maura slept like an innocent child. Even her fist was curled under her chin, a reminder of a long-forgotten habit she had had of sucking her thumb.

  She had been full of surprises this afternoon. Everod had expected Maura to toss him out of her bedchamber when he had arrogantly knocked. Seduction had not exactly been on his mind when he sought her out. He had come to tweak Georgette’s nose, though if he were successful, the countess would never learn of his mischief. She had walked into his home uninvited. Everod had merely returned the favor. Georgette had warned him to stay away from Maura.

  Everod proved to himself that Maura was his when and wherever he desired her.

  Of course, seeing Maura again had caused him to forget about her deceitful aunt. He loved to pique the lady’s temper. With luck, he hoped to steal a few kisses from her. When he saw her wearing nothing more than her chemise, Everod could not resist taking her.

  She had been charmingly defiant when he had tied her to the bedpost. However, like any passionate lady in her stimulating predicament, she soon was parting her thighs and begging for him to fill her.

  Everod had arduously dedicated himself to the gratifying task.

  Writhing in desire, Maura was the incarnation of the Greek goddess Hedone, daughter of Eros, the god of erotic love, and the beautiful goddess of the soul, Psyche. In her embrace, for the first time in his life, Everod felt the melding of body and soul. He had even spilled his essence into her, and not cursed his carelessness. Everod softly chuckled. Leave it to Maura to complicate the simple taking of pleasure in a lady’s body, he mused. However, Everod could not summon much ire over his predicament.

  He was feeling rather tender and indulgent toward the lady who had sated his carnal nature. Everod gently brushed her dark hair from her cheek so he could admire her beauty. Maura opened her eyes, seeming just as confused as he had been upon waking.

  She gasped. “Did we sleep too long? What is the time?”

  Fearful that they might be discovered, she sat up on her knees.

  “Calm yourself,” he said, idly caressing her arm. “Your maid won’t knock for another hour.”

  Maura visibly relaxed. “Oh.”

  “Oh,” he mimicked, and crooked his finger, beckoning her closer. “Come here, my little Hedone.”

  “Your little what?” she said crossly, then recalled her lessons in mythology. “Oh, her. I would call you my Eros, but that would make you my father.” Maura wrinkled her nose. “Too improper for my sensibilities, though maybe not for you, eh?”

  “Maura, love, the last few hours are proof that your sensibilities match mine rather nicely.”

  Still naked, she crawled over to him, and kissed him. Everod smiled as her hair tickled his face. He guided her left leg over so that she straddled him. “Where can we meet?”

  She rolled her eyes at what she viewed as a ridiculous request. “You will see me this evening, Townsend,” she said, pleasing him that she used his first name without him demanding it of her. “You are attending Lord and Lady Kersting’s ball, are you not? Your father and my aunt will be in attendance, as will your brother, but these events are usually crowded. I am certain we can arrange a walk in the garden or a few minutes alone in the back parlor if you desire.”

  “Are you content with such a clandestine arrangement?” Everod asked, not understanding the discontentment coursing through him.

  “I wager most of your assignations with various ladies of the ton were secretive in nature,” she teased, bending down to rub her nose against his.

  Everod smiled, but the humor of the situation did not reach his eyes. He could not refute that he did not solicit attention when taking a lover. Oftentimes privacy was a necessity in their arrangement, and Everod manipulated the lady’s fear of discovery to his benefit. He had treated Maura in a similar fashion, though he was not too proud of his conduct. If he used his former lovers as a guide to the workings of the female brain, Maura should be urging him to make a public declaration by now. To his annoyance, the lady was content to keep their liaison a secret.

  As if she planned to sever their intimate connection before he did.

  “Who are you trying to protect, Maura?” Everod asked, licking his thumb with his tongue and wiping a smear of jam he had missed near her navel. “You, me, or the family?”

  Maura sighed. “Why must I choose just one? I could challenge your motives as well, my lord. Perhaps you seduced me this afternoon with the hope of triggering your father’s wrath, or even a challenge from Rowan.”

  Early on, he had entertained similar fantasies about how he could amuse himself with Maura, and upset his family. However, his motives for visiting her this afternoon were personal, and more convoluted than laying the groundwork for revenge. “I came to you for me, Maura. I desired you, and I claimed you.”

  Frowning at him, Maura pushed her hair behind her ears. Although she was sitting on top of him and naked, she had the look of a displeased queen conversing with a recalcitrant subordinate. She lifted her right brow at his harsh tone. “My apologies, Lord Everod. How rude of me to question you for sneak
ing into my bedchamber, tying me to the bedpost, and forcing me to endure the wanton bliss of your mouth, hands, and rod.”

  Genuine laughter rumbled in his chest. He clutched her hips to prevent her from rolling away. Her haughty recounting of their afternoon together instantly restored his good humor. And ardor. His cock hardened, and ascended until the eager organ bumped her on the buttock, causing her to start.

  “Egad, I am beginning to understand how you acquired the intriguing nickname of Everhard!” she gasped, her sea-gray eyes gleaming with barely contained laughter.

  Everod gave her buttock a punishing slap. “Disrespectful wench!” he said, rubbing away the sting his hand might have caused. He had no intention of explaining to Maura what he had done with Lady Spryng and Lady Silver to earn the notorious nickname. “Everyone knows there is little truth in rumors.”

  In spite of Maura’s healthy curiosity and passionate nature, he doubted the lady on top of him would understand or approve of the life he had led since he was cast from Worrington Hall.

  Maura made a dissenting noise in her throat. “I disagree.” She shifted her hips, raising them so his arousal slipped between her legs, deftly finding the portal of her sheath. “Twice you have sated your lust,” she said, lowering her lashes while she rocked slowly against him, coaxing him deeper into her body. “And yet, here you are, readying yourself to sheath your rod into me like a sword into a scabbard over and over until I surrender.”

  “Or I do,” he countered as he suddenly thrust to the hilt.

  Maura tipped her head back in ecstasy. Her long dark hair flowed down her back, and over his hands, like fine silk. The soft curling ends tickled his taut testicles.

  They still had the better part of an hour before Maura’s maid would return to awaken her. Everod intended to relish every minute, pushing Maura to the maddening edge of her release, only to deny her until the maid’s footsteps could be heard as she approached the door. The risk of getting caught would heighten Maura’s pleasure tenfold. When he asked that she meet with him later this evening; she would not refuse him.

 

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