Reckless Viscount

by Amy Sandas

  Her breathless plea mingled with the harsh rasp of his breath and he lifted her leg to wrap it around his hips. Then, with the grace of a predatory animal, he thrust his hips and the length of his erection eased between her legs to glide full length against her sultry core. The hard heat of him pressing intimately to the center of her need left her gasping and shaking. Taking her buttocks in his hands, he tipped her hips toward him then pulled back only enough to thrust forward again. This time, his smooth tip angled upward and he pushed into the slick heat of her body.

  Abbigael was stunned by the delicious possession. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she reveled in that moment of full surrender as her body accepted his invasion and adjusted to the thickness and length of him reaching to her womb.

  Holding her by the buttocks, he withdrew himself almost completely from her body then thrust forward again. And again.

  Her muscles melted and she clung to his shoulders for support as pleasure spread through her in warm blasts with each forceful advance.

  He held her fast to him and she wrapped herself around him. With easy strength and grace, he lifted her and laid her back on the mattress, coming down with her. His weight was wonderful and his movements a steady driving force that brought her ever closer to the rapture she sought.

  Their breath and sweat mingled. Their steamy sighs and pleasured groans were captured in open-mouthed kisses.

  As her limbs tensed around him and her body seized with the onrush of climax, she opened her eyes and saw his face above her. His handsome features were stretched and taut. His kaleidoscope eyes stared into hers as he watched her reach her pleasure. With a primitive, snarling curve to his lips, he arched his head back and gave in to his own release.

  But it was not the end.

  Abbigael discovered through the night what he had meant when he promised to provide experiences that were many and varied. She learned unexpected lessons about her own sexual desires and just how far her sensual boundaries lay as he introduced her to love-play that released all inhibition, shredded any sense of vulnerability and pushed her to explore sensations she never would have imagined possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Consciousness was calling. Leif shifted and felt a sudden heavy onset of claustrophobia. Tight bands crossed his abdomen and wrapped around his chest.

  Something was trapping him to his bed.

  He cracked open his eyes and squinted against the last of the morning sunlight that poured around the edge of his curtains. He turned his head away from the offensive brightness and found himself doubly trapped by the sight of his wife curled peacefully at his side.

  Her slim back pressed against his ribs and her head rested on the curve of his upper arm. The length of her hair spread over his chest and stomach like a silky veil. The ends were tucked securely under his opposite side as he must have rolled over on it in his sleep.

  Unwilling to disturb her, he remained unmoving for a while, listening to the rhythmic flow of her breath. He felt calmed and stricken at the same time. The moment was peaceful in a way he hadn’t experienced…ever.

  His thoughts traveled through the details of the night before and a strange discomfort settled in his gut. He felt nauseated.

  Last night had been exceptional. And that disturbed him.

  He had given more of himself to the woman beside him than he had ever given to anyone before. Even early on, when he had been green and eager to please, he had never opened himself so much to the intimacy of what sex could be. He hadn’t realized until just now that lately he had been playing the game with only the necessary physical faculties, allowing his internal involvement to withdraw further and further.

  But last night, he had been present and invested in every moment. He had wanted Abbigael to experience all of the beauty and wonder he could provide. There was just no way he could have anticipated what that would do to him in turn.

  And now he paid the price for it, feeling coldly stripped bare and internally shaking with a sense of dread and longing he hadn’t felt since he had been far too young to even wonder at the physical intimacies between a man and a woman.

  He needed to get up. Get away.

  With unbelievable patience, in spite of the panic that started to fill his chest, he released himself from the binding tresses of her hair then slid his arm free from beneath her head, making sure to replace it with a pillow. She never stirred from her slumber. Not when he moved about the room, hastily pulling on his clothes, or when he carefully opened the door to slip into the hall without even a glance over his shoulder. Somehow, he knew that the sight of her slim petite form curled in the center of his bed would not ease the squeezing compression in his chest.

  It wasn’t until he stepped outside and took a few bracing lungfuls of London air that he felt himself again. He headed off in a brisk stride down the sidewalk. He had no destination in mind, just the overwhelming need to walk.

  The gentle tapping was becoming unbearable. Abbigael just wished it would stop. She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, but couldn’t block out the insistent sound.

  Rolling onto her back in a huff, she pushed her hair from her face and scowled up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Her heart stopped with the realization that she was in Leif’s bed, in his home. Her home. She sat up in the bed and looked around.

  She was alone.

  And the quiet knocking at the door hadn’t stopped.

  “A moment, please,” she called out as she searched around for some way to cover herself. Settling for the sheet off the bed, she wrapped it around her body several times before feeling herself sufficiently modest enough to open the door.

  In the hallway stood a man who had to be at least a hundred years old. Though many years ago he had likely been a tall and stately fellow, he was now stooped and brittle. The ancient servant lifted his bushy brows with considerable effort and prepared his large square jaw for speech.

  “Good morning, my lady. I apologize for not being present to greet you last evening.” Abbigael resisted the urge to step forward to hold the poor man steady as he slowly dipped his head in a dignified bow. “I am Langley, the butler.”

  She smiled, finding a strange amusement in being introduced to the senior servant while wrapped in nothing more than a bed sheet.

  “Very pleased to meet you, Langley.”

  “I would not have interrupted your sleep, my lady, except that your things have arrived from Blackbourne House and I am unsure where you would like them. I do not believe a room has yet been prepared for you.” He gestured to his side with a gnarled hand. “Shall I have him bring it in?”

  Abbigael leaned forward to peek around the corner of the doorway and saw a young man in Blackbourne livery trying not to appear strained by the weight of one of her traveling trunks in his arms.

  “Yes, please,” Abbigael agreed quickly, stepping back to open the door wider and pull the sheet just a bit tighter around her.

  The only thing she had to wear was her gown from the night before. Heat infused her cheeks and she glanced to where her evening dress lay carefully draped over the back of a chair along with the rest of her clothing. She knew she hadn’t bothered to lift the thing from the floor where she had dropped it the night before.

  The idea of Leif taking care of her clothing filled her with warmth and a touch of discomfort. Had he also been responsible for having her possessions sent over? The Blackbourne servants must have been packing through the night, which meant the order had to have been given the day before.

  Of course, it was natural to assume she would be moving to her husband’s house. It was just that she was so accustomed to taking care of herself. It was going to be a challenge to accept that her husband would likely be making certain decisions for her in the future.

  Glancing at the empty bed, heat infused her cheeks as did a level of trepidation as she imagined him sliding from the bed and tip-toeing from the room while she slept. Where had he gone?

  The footman dep
osited his burden in the only empty corner available in the small room and quickly exited. Langley stood just inside the door, eyeing the room with a thoughtful grimace.

  “Perhaps I shall have the other trunks taken to the next room until a more appropriate space can be prepared for you.”

  Seeing how the one trunk managed to crowd the limited space, Abbigael nodded her agreement.

  “A prudent idea, Langley.”

  The butler turned his long-limbed body with excruciating effort and stepped into the hallway, adding over his shoulder, “Mrs. Hempstead has asked me to advise you that when you are ready to break your fast, she can bring you a meal up here or serve you in the morning room per your preference.”

  “Thank you, Langley. I shall come down, I think.” She bit her lip, debating for a moment if she should inquire into her husband’s current whereabouts. Pride won out and she kept her curiosity behind her teeth.

  The noble butler gave another slow nod and Abbigael thought she saw a slight twitch in the slack muscles around his mouth. A smile perhaps.

  “If I may presume to be so forward, my lady, welcome to the family.”

  He turned without waiting for her response and began to shuffle down the corridor of the hallway, followed by the footman who struggled to slow his steps to match the pace of the senior servant.

  After closing the door, Abbigael knelt down in front of the trunk, hoping it contained what she would need to complete a full ensemble. She didn’t relish the idea of traipsing to the next room in her sheet in search of stockings or some other necessary item.

  A few minutes later she had reason to be grateful for the efficiency of the Blackbourne maids as she found everything she needed to dress for the day. Setting her clothing on the wooden chair next to the bed, she unwound the sheet from her body. Just as she freed herself and stood completely naked, the bedroom door swung open.

  Startled, she spun around to face the intrusion, crossing her arms over her body in an instinctive attempt at shielding herself. As soon as she saw who stood in the doorway, the icy panic that had seized her fled in a rush to be replaced by acute sexual awareness as every nerve on the surface of her skin came wildly alive. She uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides.

  Her husband had amazing timing.

  He stood with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of the coat he hadn’t bothered to discard downstairs. His hair had been messed by the wind, giving him a dangerous look intensified by the riotous light in his eyes that dove straight to the center of her soul.

  She was instantly awash in a maelstrom of emotions and sensations too complicated to define.

  Without a word, he kicked the door shut behind him. In spite of his silence, the almost violent tension in his demeanor shouted across the room to Abbigael. She was compelled by the fierce energy that surrounded him. There was something about him that made her heart ache as if a tight fist seized hold of it.

  He pulled a hand from the depths of his pocket to brush the knuckles back and forth along his jaw. A gesture Abbigael was coming to associate with moments when he struggled with his inner thoughts.

  “Irish,” he began, cleared his throat, then began again, “Abbigael.”

  She waited in the center of the room, naked and vulnerable, but he didn’t continue.

  On a rough exhale, he shoved his hand back through his hair. Then in a burst of raw force, he crossed the room to her in two long, swift strides. He wrapped an arm around her waist and gripped the back of her head. His kiss was hot, hard and animalistic. There was no seduction, no gentle manipulation or subtle coaxing.

  Only need.

  He pulled away from her only long enough to shed his own clothes, then he reached for her again, bending her into his body, his eyes bright and frightening

  Abbigael surrendered.

  He laid her down on the bed. As his body covered her, she softened and accepted his weight, drawing her arms around his shoulders and parting her legs.

  When his mouth pulled on hers and he entered her fully, without preamble or finesse, she dug her fingernails into his skin and arched beneath him. She lifted her knees around his hips and forced him deeper. Her hands gripped his buttocks and she rolled her hips to meet his, gasping when it triggered the inner sensation she craved.

  He groaned against her lips and nipped at them with his teeth, then drove into her harder and faster. Their movements turned frantic and wild. Their heavy breath was interspersed with velvety moans as they stormed toward a shared release that threw Abbigael into a shattering world of beauty and darkness, fury and ecstasy.

  Her breath slowly eased to a normal rhythm as the muscles in her thighs trembled when she eased her legs down to the mattress.

  Leif’s forehead rested on her shoulder. His moist breath fanned across the crest of her nipple, bathing the sensitive peak in warmth.

  After a moment, he lifted his head. The dangerous storm had passed from his features and the jaunty expression of the devil-may-care rogue was securely back in place.

  Abbigael’s stomach fluttered.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did, thank you,” she replied automatically.

  “Excellent. Would you like some breakfast?”

  “Langley said that Mrs. Hempstead would put something together.”

  “Perfect. I will see that she includes some of her wonderful sweet bread. The woman is a virtuoso when it comes to pastries.”

  “Would you prefer to eat up here or go downstairs?” she asked, wondering why she couldn’t just ask him what she really wanted to know. Where had he gone so early that morning? And why had his mood been so ferocious upon his return?

  “Downstairs would be best.” He glanced aside at her open trunk. “This room is not exactly suited to dining.”

  He pushed himself up from her body and began to replace his hastily discarded clothing. Once again, she felt consigned to the bed, much like a paid courtesan, as he made his escape.

  Well, not this time.

  Abbigael rose from the bed and brushed past him to walk naked to the wash stand. She chose to ignore the way Leif stopped buttoning his shirt to watch her short progression with avid interest. She ignored it, but she was fully aware of it.

  “Do we have any particular plans for this evening?” she inquired with feigned nonchalance as she dipped a cloth in the water basin. She wrung out the excess water before swiping the cloth across her belly then sliding it between her legs.

  “What? Ah…no.”

  She smiled in satisfaction at his stuttering response. Setting the cloth aside, she turned and bent over to lift her filmy undergarment from the chair. When she straightened to stretch her arms over her head and drag the chemise down over her body, she heard him shift and clear his throat.

  “No plans tonight, but the Blackbournes are throwing a ball in our honor on Wednesday.”

  “Wednesday.” She turned in surprise, forgetting her motivation for the moment. “But that is only five days away. A ball cannot be arranged in such a short time.”

  Leif’s glittering stare flowed over her body, the thin undergarment doing nothing to shield the shape of her body from his sight. Every inch of her skin warmed under his intense regard.

  “Anna can do anything she sets her mind to, and she has decided we need a proper introduction to society as man and wife.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers and offered a small grin. “Are you ready to be paraded about on the arm of a reformed libertine?”

  Abbigael’s lips quirked upward in a smirk of amusement.

  “Reformed?”

  Leif’s grin widened. “As far as anyone else needs to know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the days that followed, Abbigael was kept busy as Anna stopped over for a few hours every day to go over details for the ball. When Abbigael asked why the rush, the countess explained, “The quicker we put a romantic spin on the events of your dramatic elopement, the sooner we can put the more unpleasant speculation to rest.�
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  “What speculation?”

  The countess leaned forward to pat her hand with a half-smile. “Trust me, you’d rather not know.”

  “Will anyone even be able to attend on such short notice?”

  “No one will be able to resist. Your marriage has become the talk of the town. People will be clamoring for a chance to view the new couple. Which is why you and Leif must both be prepared to show everyone that yours is a true love match. It’s a perfect setup really—the wickedly irreverent rake reformed by the love of a pure and innocent young woman. I promise the ton will eat it up.”

  Abbigael had some doubt in the countess’s plan succeeding, but she did see the wisdom in presenting a strong front to society’s leering curiosity.

  Though she spent much of her time holed up with the countess in the morning room, sometimes she would wake up before Leif had a chance to dash off to do whatever it was he did during the day. Or she might catch him watching her as she crossed a room. And she would see a shadow of the tortured energy that had consumed him the morning after Vauxhall.

  Just as she’d open her mouth to ask him what troubled him, he would interrupt with a light quip or teasing remark and the shadow would be safely tucked away again.

  It bothered her to know he was so unwilling to share his thoughts with her. On the other hand, she rather understood it.

  It was not easy to be vulnerable to someone else, as she was discovering. Although in her case, the vulnerability was more physical than emotional as she learned that she had a demanding sensual appetite when it came to her husband. Every moment with him was a revelation. Every hour an adventure into realms of sensuality she never would have imagined she’d travel. There was so much she discovered about herself while in his arms. She had no idea she could feel so safe as she released her inhibitions and followed her sexual instinct. No matter how her body responded or what she demanded from him when her desire reached its height of fury, he was there, willing to push her higher. No hesitation, no judgment.