Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

by Victoria Vane

  His frowned. “It’s not advisable to trust me or any other male.”

  “Perhaps not, but I do.” She frowned suddenly questioning the consequence of his involvement in her plan. “I hope Maudling doesn’t make life difficult for you, he could if he chose.”

  “I don’t give a tinker’s damn what Maudling does. I doubt he’d do anything. He knows what side his bread is buttered on. I’m more concerned about you. What about your reputation, Bella? Surely it matters to you?”

  She shrugged, almost beyond caring. “I don’t think he’d try to damage my reputation. For one, my father is a neighbor and close associate. For another, it’s not love Maudling feels for me or he would never have treated me in that shabby manner. He would guard his reputation, I think. He’d not want it known that I deceived him.”

  The carriage arrived at the orphanage. Derrick assisted her down. He stood on the pavement, looking down at her, his eyes concerned. “After you have time to think, you might decide against it. If so, send a note to my house.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it, his gaze capturing hers. “If you do not, my carriage will await you tomorrow night at ten. And I promise to have you home before dawn.”

  By dawn, she would be forever changed. She would leave her girlhood behind and become a woman. The reality of what she’d set in motion made her shiver but didn’t shake her conviction. This was the only course of action. “Tomorrow night then, Derrick.”

  He hardly acted like a passionate rake, she thought uneasily, as she hurried into the house to tell Mary the hansom she’d hired waited in the street.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DERRICK CROSSED HIS ARMS, leaning back against the seat. He’d suffered a powerful urge to put them around Bella earlier when she’d bitten that full bottom lip of hers and stared beseechingly at him with her blue eyes. She was determined, but she was an innocent. Should he have refused her? He’d feared she might seek out some other man who wouldn’t care a goddam about her safety or her reputation—whilst he would shelter her as much as he could.

  It might serve her purpose to spend a few hours with him, without necessarily joining him in bed. They could play chess or cards. Derrick gritted his teeth. He could then deliver her home unsullied, if his resolve held out, and he seemed to have little where she was concerned.

  Bella was an intelligent young woman who yearned for more from life than was currently being offered her. She enticed him at every glance: the curve of her soft cheek, her wide delphinium-blue eyes, so appealingly candid, and her unawareness of the effect her voluptuous figure had on a man. A goddess. No wonder Maudling was determined to get his hands on her. Not Aphrodite, more Hestia, goddess of the hearth. She should marry and have children of her own.

  It could not be him. He wouldn’t be good for her anyway. She’d want his love. She’d already demanded a lot. He doubted himself capable of it. Convinced she’d been sent to haunt his dreams, he shook his head. Bella was unlike any woman he’d ever met. She inspired uncomfortable thoughts of heroism he could not fulfill.

  Well, perhaps the mad plan would work. Merely spending the night at his house could have the desired effect. Whatever she decided, he would oblige her, but if it were cards, he would suffer enormous regret. And afterward, he could return to the life he’d lived before he met her. Although the level of satisfaction that life brought him didn’t bare close inspection.

  ***

  A sliver of moon lighted her way as Bella stepped out the front door and pulled the hood of her cloak low over her face. Reaching the street, she drew her evening cloak even closer in the cool air and hurried to the corner, darting out of reach of the golden circles of light cast by the gas lamps. A carriage waited, not his lordship’s brougham but a black vehicle drawn by four horses. But for the shaft of moonlight caressing the glossy paintwork, the carriage might have disappeared into the darkness. As she approached, she saw the window curtains were closed. A groom jumped down from the box. He put down the step and opened the carriage door. She hovered on the threshold, her heart beating fast. Was it Derrick?

  She almost cried with relief when he leapt out. With a quick perusal of the empty street, he clasped her hand. “You’ve not changed your mind, Bella?”

  “I have not changed my mind.” She couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but he certainly wasn’t the passionate lover she’d hoped for. Might he find her a nuisance or, worse, an annoyingly forward female? Recalling Maudling’s avaricious smirk, she breathed in sharply and placed a foot on the step.

  Derrick’s strong hands clasped her waist and whisked her inside. The door closed. In the dim light, his gaze was inscrutable. Bella pressed herself against the squab with a nervous swallow, her throat parched as the carriage rocked. The groom aboard, the coachman roused the horses, and the carriage rolled forward on the way to Derrick’s home in Portland Square. There was no turning back now.

  “You managed to leave the house without being seen?”

  She nodded. “The butler had retired. I waited until our footman, Gerald, went down to the kitchen. He has a cup of cocoa around that time.”

  Her hands tightened in her lap, recalling the domestic scene. What if the groom or the coachman recognized her? Could Derrick’s servants be trusted? Her life could be ruined. Had she turned her back on her home? On her family?

  Derrick made no further comment as the carriage threaded its way through the London streets. The traffic was light at this hour, and they arrived in what seemed like minutes. She counted each one with her anxious heartbeat. They stepped down in front of an impressive five-storied townhouse, its façade decorated with towering Iconic columns. A gas lamp in the street shone on his face. He was smiling. Reassured, she allowed him to propel her through the glossy black doors onto the marble floor of the entry, dimly lit by gas sconces. An unlit crystal chandelier hung high above them, and there were no servants to be seen.

  Derrick removed her cloak and, clasping her hand in his big warm one, drew her to the marble staircase, which swept up to the shadowy floors above. No footman or butler appeared as they entered a library, the walls lined with shelves of leather tomes and the soft carpet patterned in cream and brown. Lamps scattered about on the highly polished furniture cast a soft glow over the lofty room. A pair of leather armchairs faced the fireplace, where a small fire burned. Above the mantel a portrait of a dark-haired man, dressed in the fashion of twenty years ago, hung.

  “My father,” Derrick said flatly.

  Sensing he didn’t wish to talk of his father, she moved to a table stacked with books and studied the spines: Shakespeare, Milton, Keats, Rudyard Kipling. “You read widely.” She grew irritated with herself. No matter how she tried, her voice still shook and gave away her nervousness.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “You’ll note some are poetry. Please sit down, Bella.” He strode to the sideboard. “Sherry?”

  She nodded gratefully. She certainly needed it.

  He poured brandy for himself from a crystal decanter and a glass of sherry for her. Handing the glass to her, he took the chair close to hers. He leaned back, crossing an ankle over his other his knee.

  “I do believe I need this,” she admitted. She took a sip of the smooth wine, an excellent vintage. She’d expected nothing less. The alcohol warmed its way down her throat to light a fire in her empty stomach. She’d been too jittery to eat dinner.

  “We can spend the time any way you wish,” he said, his eyes deep and unfathomable in the shadowy room. “Whether I take you to bed or not will have the desired effect. Tomorrow, I’ll advise Lord Maudling of our tête-à-tête.”

  Dismayed, she stared at him. “Lord Maudling may not believe it. He might still wish to marry me,” she continued, anxious that he might have changed his mind. “To be convincing, I need to know in my heart that it’s the truth.”

  Derrick scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m only flesh and blood, Bella!”

  She threw down the last of the sherry. Ignoring the burn,
she rose to her feet. Sensing that deep within him a small war was waging, she stood in front of him. “I would like you to be my first lover, Derrick. If you want me.” While she wasn’t entirely sure of his feelings, she was confident of their attraction, for the air crackled between them. It had been that way since the first night they met. Perhaps the prospect of bedding a virgin was unappealing. From what she’d heard, even married men visited brothels.

  “I want you.” He sounded savage. I thought I made that clear.”

  He banged his crystal tumbler down on the table, causing brandy to splash over the tabletop. Before she could speak, he’d pulled her onto his lap. Held tight by his strong arms, she was aware of every muscled and sinuous curve of his strong body beneath hers. She breathed in the already familiar smell of him, and his proximity had its usual effect, causing her breath to quicken and her heart to race. Warm breath feathered her nape while his hands worked at her hair, scattering pins. He coiled her tresses in his fingers and eased her head back to press his lips to her throat.

  “You have me in thrall, Bella,” he murmured against her skin.

  Her delight at his admission caused a flood of heat through her body. He cradled her face in his hands and brought his mouth down to hers. The hunger of his kisses made her heart beat harder. She sighed against his mouth, her hands finding the silky hair at his nape. When he nudged her lips apart, she shivered with pleasure at the caress of his tongue against hers.

  Derrick broke the kiss. He rose with her in his arms and, hefting her closer against his hard chest, strode with her from the room. She buried her face against his shoulder, all decisions taken from her.

  His elegantly furnished bedroom, decorated in shades of royal blue and cream, was masculine in style with heavy, dark furniture. Bella eyed the wide mahogany tester bed. She wanted to please him and wished she knew more. Her scant knowledge came from books she’d found in the lending library. He’d be accustomed to women who knew precisely how.

  Her gaze flew to his, at the raw desire smoldering in his amber eyes, and her heart fluttered. She no longer cared what might happen tomorrow.

  CHAPTER NINE

  DESIRE STILL BATTLED with his conscience as Derrick placed his blonde goddess on her feet. He stripped off his coat then tugged off his cravat. “Shall I help you undress?”

  She silently held up her long hair with an arm and turned her back for him to undo the row of tiny buttons down her silver-blue silk dress. Parting the material to expose her back, he traced his fingers over the delicate bones of her shoulder blades and down her spine. His mouth replaced his fingers, raining kisses over her peach-colored skin. She shivered and pushed down the bodice, stepping out of the voluminous skirts to stand in her corset and petticoats.

  Derrick loosened the strings on her white satin corset, pressing a kiss on her creamy shoulder.

  Bella undid the metal clasps in front and pulled the corset away. Flicking a long blonde lock over her shoulder, she bent her head to release the ties on her petticoats. When she straightened, he was blown apart by heat and the heady desire to draw those deep, dusky areolas thrusting against the fine lawn of her chemise into his mouth. Standing in her lacy bloomers and silk stockings, she built his desire into a burgeoning frenzy. Her cheeks flushed and she nibbled her bottom lip. To reassure her, he turned his back to undress, quickly shedding his waistcoat, shirt, and shoes, urging himself to take it slow. He’d never believed for a moment she might be his. Could it end after one night? It would have to. He’d never deflowered a virgin. Never wanted to in fact. His cock was already hard. He’d have to exercise every bit of his control to make this pleasurable for her. She’d said she wanted to remember this night forever, and he was determined that her memories would be all that she wished them to be.

  Down to his drawers, he turned around to face her. She stood before him stripped naked like Botticelli’s Venus rising from the sea, all pearly flesh but for the vee of golden hair at the apex of her thighs. His gaze roamed over her, heating his blood, and he could only be glad that none of the three Graces were there to cover her with a cloak.

  “I hope you like me,” she said, her breasts rising and falling sharply.

  Derrick saved what was left of his breath. He swept her up, her soft, perfumed curves warm in his arms and laid her on the bed.

  ***

  As he stood to remove his drawers, Bella leaned on her elbows to study his broad, bare chest and the triangle of dark hair trailing down over his stomach. She watched the play of muscles and sinews shifting beneath his smooth skin as he moved. A man’s body was all strength and hardness, where a woman’s was soft. When that part of him leapt free from the constraints of the material, a deep primitive ache pulsed low in her stomach. She suffered a niggling doubt that such a large man could fit inside her. Would it be painful? She wanted to ask but shivered, captured by his sinuous leonine strength as he prowled up the bed on his hands and knees, his dark hair falling onto his brow, his amber eyes dark pools of intent.

  He raised her hands above her head and lowered his head to hers. Her breath galloped as they lay skin to skin, his long, thick staff nudging her stomach. He plundered her mouth, angling his head to press hard then soft kisses. When he gently took her bottom lip in his teeth, she parted her lips to taste him. His tongue met hers with the jolt of electricity.

  Derrick released her hands. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  “You imagined me naked?” she asked breathlessly. He’d turned his attention to her breasts. She squirmed and gasped at the delicious sensations as he tweaked a nipple into hardness.

  “Every time I saw you and…other times too.” He bent his head, drawing a rigid, throbbing nipple into his mouth.

  She melted as new sensations swamped her, barely understanding the urgent need that built low in her belly. She’d been preparing for this moment since they met. She inhaled the smell of clean male as her hands roamed over his strong back, learning the sinews and muscles beneath his satiny skin. As he cupped her breast and lathed her other nipple, she wriggled beneath him, moisture gathering between her thighs. His staff nudged her sensitive core, and she opened her legs at the deep tug.

  He groaned, his hands on her bottom pushing his hard flesh against hers. “Slow down, sweetheart.”

  He rolled over beside her. “We mustn’t rush this. There’s so much pleasure I want to share with you.”

  “Pleasure?” she murmured, eager for more. “I want to give you pleasure too.”

  “But you are,” he said with a grin.

  He framed her face in his hands and kissed her. “You may feel some pain at first. You do know what happens between a man and a woman?”

  Her cheeks heated, as she hated to admit she was ignorant of most of it. “We have a house in the country. I imagine it’s very similar to other animals.”

  At his husky laugh, her tense muscles loosened. He was an experienced lover. She was in good hands. She almost collapsed in helpless giggles, but a minute later, she was drowning in his fierce kisses, her whole body tightening with need. He trailed kisses across her cheek and down the length of her neck. When he cupped her breasts and pressed them together, deepening her cleavage, his intake of breath was almost a moan as he thumbed her nipples.

  Her breasts swelled beneath his touch, the nipples sensitive. The throb deepened between her legs when his mouth circled a nipple. When he puffed air gently onto the damp, rigid peak, she threw back her head and called his name, closing her eyes as overwhelming sensations crashed over her.

  “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he commanded. “Look at me.”

  His tawny eyes blazed with raw need.

  Under his onslaught, her breath quickened, and her thoughts scattered. She wriggled beneath the feathery strokes of his hot, wet tongue. He turned his attention to the other breast, teasing the bud until it tightened and stood erect. Bella’s lower regions clenched again, demanding, hot, and damp.

  She cried out. “Oh, now. I
want you.”

  Shifting his weight over her, he nudged his knee between hers, parting her legs. A hand settled on the soft skin of her upper thigh.

  He cupped her mound, and his fingers sought out the core of her pleasure. Startled, she grabbed handfuls of the bed cover with her fists at the charge of excitement as he stoked the swollen flesh. “Oh...that’s…”

  Derrick slid a finger inside her. He groaned. “You’re so tight and wet.”

  The desire in his voice banished any embarrassment at being touched so intimately. Her inner muscles tightened around him, sparking an uncontrollable urgency. She muttered encouragements, wanting more. Withdrawing, he rubbed slickened fingers over her nub, driving her need for release. She wriggled and mewed beneath his touch.

  “Have you ever touched yourself?” His voice sounded different, guttural, his breathing heavy.

  As his relentless fingers brought her ever closer to orgasm, her confession was almost lost in a moan.

  Derrick rolled away to pull on a French letter. Returning, he kissed his way down her body, nibbling as he went, making her writhe.

  Aware of what he was about to do, she flushed crimson. His mouth replaced his fingers, and she pulled at his dark hair as his tongue dipped and swirled across her tight bud, unchaining wild, delicious feelings.

  He groaned. “I should enjoy watching you bring yourself to orgasm. So many things I want us to do together that we won’t have time for, my sweet.”

  Regret tightened her ribcage for a brief moment and then disappeared as she was drawn into a maelstrom. All thoughts became superfluous but one, the sensitive spot he ruthlessly caressed. The need within her became a frenzied race for release. She convulsed as it consumed her, spiraling through her to wash over her in drugging waves. A moan building in the back of her throat erupted into a cry muffled by Derrick’s mouth on hers. Lost, she shuddered and rode the delicious sensations to the end.