Still Wicked

by Ayers, Kathleen

  “What did they teach you at St. Albans? I’m seriously considering having my cousin disband that little cloister. Can’t have a bunch of nuns running about cursing at people and using pistols.”

  “An idle threat,” Elizabeth said. “And I was the only one using a pistol.”

  His erection was painful, threatening to burst through the leather riding breeches he wore. Standing next to the tub, he deliberately brushed his hand down the length of his cock in a crude gesture.

  Elizabeth’s eyes lowered, following the movement. She raised one ebony brow, refusing to give an inch. Apparently, the remnants of her anxiety had vanished during their separation. Spence wondered if he were the cause or some other man. His eyes narrowed.

  It better not be anyone else.

  “Get out,” Elizabeth said, tilting her chin toward the door. She tried to cover one breast with the brandy snifter and the other breast with a towel. Futile. She was ridiculously endowed for such a slender woman. Her left nipple could clearly be seen through the snifter. The towel atop her head fell apart, releasing a torrent of inky black hair.

  Spence’s hand flinched in response, wishing to sink his fingers into the tangled wet mass. “You should get out. I can see you’re cold.” Her nipples were tight little buds the color of berries.

  Elizabeth looked down, cursed under breath and redoubled the efforts to hide her breasts. “I’ve been in here a while,” she said in a low voice, one that made his cock twitch. “Can you hand me another towel?”

  A small stack of towels sat on the vanity. Picking one up, he shook it out and held it open.

  “What are you doing, Kelso?”

  Something I should have done more than once in that bloody inn in Scotland. “Stand up,” he commanded.

  Elizabeth shook her head, blue eyes shimmering like the ocean. “No. I’m…unclothed.”

  “I’ve already seen the important parts.” Not entirely true. He’d yet to discover the small indentation at the base of her spine, a place he dreamt of often. He wanted to taste every inch of her and inhale the scent of her skin. “This is now a marriage of inconvenience.” He shook the towel again. “Come.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” she countered.

  “Yes, it does,” he insisted.

  “Turn around.”

  “No, I won’t. You’ll catch your death if I don’t dry you or you may trip getting out of the tub. The last thing I need is a wife addled from a head injury she received from drinking too much brandy and falling out of the tub. Everyone in the ton will know you’re a sot.”

  “I’m not a sot. And as I recall, you didn’t need a wife at all,” Elizabeth shot back, giving him a murderous look.

  Good thing she didn’t have a pistol handy. Spence had yet to see her shoot, but based on the confidence she had displayed in handling weapons, he thought Elizabeth was likely a decent shot. He briefly considered showing her how to throw knives and decided for his own safety he probably shouldn’t. Elizabeth did have a temper.

  “Incorrect,” he shot back. “I didn’t want a wife. I always needed a wife.”

  She took the wet towel that had been wrapped around her hair and threw it at him, hitting him square in the face.

  “You should not have done that.” Spence dropped the towel he was holding and picked her up out of the tub, ignoring her squeak of protest. She was wet and slippery. Dear God, there were soap bubbles sliding down her breasts.

  All his pent-up longing for this one woman, his wife, came to the forefront. Spence’s mouth fell on hers. At first her lips were tight, refusing to surrender to him. He softened the kiss. Coaxing. Asking. When he ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, her mouth opened with a soft whimper. He tasted brandy and soap as her arms wrapped around his neck.

  He picked Elizabeth up and carried her into his bedroom, wanting to bury himself in the soft warmth of her body. He tossed her none too gently on the bed, watching in fascination as the dark tendrils of her hair spread out across the coverlet. Spence had never wanted anyone with such…desperation.

  His cock was screaming at him to thrust inside her, but he hesitated. His hand ran over her breasts, watching in fascination as her back arched. He’d been awful to her. Cruel to pretend their wedding night had meant nothing to him.

  I was afraid.

  “Do you want this?” He would never allow her to return to her brother after tonight, Spence knew that with certainty. But neither would he bed her again if she didn’t want him.

  “Do you?” Her question wasn’t flippant, only honest. Knowing.

  “Yes.” His lips brushed hers, relieved to finally confess such a thing. “So much.”

  “You sent me away, Kelso.” Her fingers traced the lines of his ribs, sending tiny pulses of sensation down his body.

  “A mistake, Elizabeth.” His voice grew thick with emotion. “I want you to inconvenience me.” She was so much smaller than he was. Slender and delicate except for her magnificent bosom. He wanted to protect her. Claim her. Possess her. “I—”

  She placed a finger against his lips. Her eyes had grown damp. “Are you going to ravish me or not, Kelso?”

  He nipped at her fingers, then pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist as she cupped the side of his face. Trailing his mouth along the side of one breast, he grazed his teeth over her nipple, delighted at the sound she made. He moved one hand between her legs, stroking lightly against her slit. His mouth closed over the skin of her hip, nipping lightly. Positioned between her thighs he blew a breath of air through the soft hair of her mound.

  Her legs trembled. “What are you doing?”

  In response, his tongue flicked out against her sweetness, tasting her in a tiny, lingering kiss.

  “This is very wicked.” Her voice had gone low and throaty.

  “Indeed.”

  Elizabeth made the most interesting noises as he explored. When he thrust two fingers inside her, she rocked her hips in his direction. Her muscles tightened, clasping his fingers, and Spence groaned at the thought of being inside her. When he finally placed his mouth over the tiny bud, Elizabeth started to pant, the lower half of her body rising to meet each thrust of fingers. He flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse against his lips. As he gently sucked the engorged bit of flesh into his mouth, Spence gently curled his fingers.

  “Spencer.” Elizabeth twisted on the bed as her body clamped down on his fingers.

  His body throbbed in response, imagining the same sensation around his cock. Spence placed his free hand on one hip, holding her down as the first tremors ripped through her. He urged her body through every peak and valley as she arched up, her fingers lacing through his hair. As the tremors abated, she took a ragged breath, and propped herself up on her elbows to look down at him.

  Elizabeth was flushed and deliciously pink.

  “The things I wish to do to you, Elizabeth. All manner of wickedness.” He nipped at her stomach, licking and sucking all the way up to the base of her ear. He placed a lingering kiss between her neck and shoulder before taking her face in his hands.

  “I love you.” Her head lifted to kiss him. “I love you, Spencer.”

  The words rolled over him, breaking down the last bit of the wall he’d built to protect his heart. With one deep thrust he seated himself in her, hearing Elizabeth’s gasp of surprise. Spence groaned at the feel of her tight heat grasping the length of him. He held himself back, waiting until her body relaxed to accept his.

  After a moment, Elizabeth moaned his name, wrapping her legs around his hips, accepting his claim. Spence was not gentle. He couldn’t be. Not with the blood roaring in his ears, urging him to take her. Bind her to him.

  Elizabeth lifted her hips, pulling him deeper inside as he took up a steady rhythm, his strokes deep and hard.

  “Mine,” he said against her neck, biting her, listening with satisfaction when she cried out. “Say it.” He moved his body sideways, catching hers.

  “You
rs.”

  “No one else, Elizabeth.”

  “Never.” She cried out, her hips coming off the bed as she climaxed. “I love you.”

  “Elizabeth.” His own release followed swiftly at her words. His own release was almost painful, as if his soul had been ripped out of his chest in its determination to be with hers. This was what it was to be with Elizabeth. Completeness. Peace.

  Spence buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the warm seductive scent of his wife. His lips moved over her damp hair, unable to utter what was in his heart, his fear freezing the words in his throat.

  “You’re crushing me.” She gave a blissful sigh.

  Spence rolled to the side. He reached out to trail a finger down the inside of her thigh, marveling at the silken feel of her skin, wanting her again, even now. “Little nun.”

  “Never a nun. Why can you not get that right?”

  “Did I hurt you?” His gaze traveled down, frowning at the sight of his fingerprints on her hip.

  “No.” She shook her head and trailed her fingers along his jaw. Her marvelous eyes grew shadowed. Pained. “Not tonight.”

  Her admission sent a stab of regret through his chest, filled with self-loathing at the knowledge he’d hurt her so badly. “If it makes you feel better,” he toyed with a damp curl tempting him from its location on her breast, “your collection of fabrics launched a frontal assault against me the moment I arrived.”

  “Oh, good. I had hoped I had them positioned properly for a sneak attack.”

  Spence took her hand, turning so he could press a kiss to the pulse beating in her wrist. “Have you completely purged me from the house?”

  “No.” Her fingers slid across his chest. “I’ve saved a few of your things. I touched nothing in here, for instance.”

  He glanced around his bedroom, noticing for the first time the vase of fresh flowers and a woman’s robe thrown over one chair. Spence turned his nose into the pillowcase. The linen smelled vaguely of lavender. “You’ve made yourself at home, I see. Sleeping in my bed.”

  “I have. What did you expect would happen after I saw the state of my rooms? I’m not certain the furniture had been dusted since the day it was purchased…which was probably in your grandmother’s time.” She wrinkled her nose. “But never fear. My new bed has arrived so—”

  “No,” he said quietly. “From now on, you’ll sleep here. With me.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth relaxed against him, relieved he wasn’t going to send her to sleep apart from him. While he’d not spoken the words to her, she’d seen her love for him reflected in his eyes, whether he knew it or not. Kelso was difficult. She snuggled against him.

  “I’m not a bloody pillow, Elizabeth, that you must thump into shape.”

  She smiled against his chest at his gruff rebuke, feeling complete for the first time since they’d parted.

  “Why did you come to London, little nun? I was going to fetch you.” He was playing with a curl of her hair, twirling the strand around his thumb. “Our marriage had to become public.”

  “I’m not a valise, Kelso.” She kissed his chest. “I grew tired of waiting. Is that the only reason you would have fetched me? To dangle on your arm?”

  “You know better,” he whispered against her temple.

  “My mother came to visit.” The hand splayed across her hip tightened. “She’s incredibly disappointed I’m no longer a virgin and of little interest to Langford. More importantly,” she looked up at him, “she told me I would look splendid in black. As in, widow’s weeds. I think she means to do you harm.”

  “I’ve already deduced as much.” Spence related the events at Beckford Abbey and his suspicions. “I’m not sure what she hopes to gain from my death, other than to rid herself of me as a son-in-law.”

  “Don’t underestimate my mother.” Elizabeth’s hands were moving over him, stroking up the side of his torso.

  “I don’t.” He pressed a kiss to her temple before rolling her to the side. His larger body curled around her in a protective cocoon. “I am glad you wished to protect me.”

  Elizabeth sighed into the safety of his arms. She was almost asleep when he spoke again, the soft growl tickling the curve of her ear.

  “I am not a good man,” he murmured. “I’m often unpleasant, as you so frequently point out. Difficult. I’m bound to piss you off on a regular basis. I’ve never been possessive or jealous, but now I find I am. I’ve never wanted anything so much as you, little nun.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You will need to be patient with me, though I don’t deserve understanding. Or you.”

  As a declaration of his feelings, Elizabeth thought, it was far from romantic.

  But it was a start.

  36

  Elizabeth smiled to herself and sipped her tea, shifting just a little on the silk damask of the couch she’d recently had recovered. She’d never felt more alive. Every muscle in her body was sore and blissfully tender. A result of she and Kelso spending the better part of two days in bed with only trays of food left outside the door.

  This morning, she’d awoken alone. Rather startling since they’d not left the bed except to bathe last night. She now understood why the tub was overlarge. She’d thrown back the covers, ready to call out for Kelso, when she’d heard a noise coming from the bathing room.

  The door had been open. She’d glimpsed Kelso, naked, as he’d walked across the bathing room. Her husband was beautifully made, his body composed of elegant lines of sinew and muscle. Kelso had moved with innate grace, his movements across the room smooth and fluid. Like a dancer. Elizabeth had also realized her husband had a tattoo on his hip. More like a collection of symbols. The sight of the writing in such an intimate location on her husband’s skin was incredibly erotic. She had yet to ask him what it meant.

  Elizabeth reached for a sugared biscuit and bit into the delicious pastry. She was starving.

  He’d turned and caught her watching him. He’d stalked toward her with hooded eyes, one hand stroking his cock. She’d squealed and tried to hide under the pillows. He’d pulled her across the bed, exposing her body a little at a time, nibbling at her skin. Kelso had whispered dark, wicked things against her skin which had made Elizabeth’s cheeks pink. He’d grabbed her, flipped her over and pulled her hips up, thrusting into her slowly, his mouth hot against the line of her back.

  Needless to say, she and Kelso had missed breakfast.

  “Goodness.” Even now her flesh tingled in remembrance, followed by a delightful flutter in her heart.

  “Goodness?” The mocking tone floated over to her. “Good Lord, I’ve been teaching you to swear properly, haven’t you been paying attention?”

  It was true, he had. “Bollocks, I’m sore.” She smiled at him. “Do you think the staff is gossiping about us?”

  His lips tilted up in that smug half-smile he liked to sport. Kelso leaned against the doorjamb, amber eyes glowing with flecks of brown. He was dressed in leather breeches and a fawn-colored coat, all exquisitely tailored to his tall form. “I hope so.”

  Her pulse quickened at the sight of him. Elizabeth popped another biscuit in her mouth. “I’m also starving.”

  “You often are.” He came forward and sprawled next to her, reaching out to toy with a curl dangling from her coiffure. “I’ve some business to attend to. Can you promise not to destroy our house,” he emphasized the word, “while I’m gone? I see the crates have already disappeared from the foyer, which I appreciate. I had a feeling you’d devised a bloody maze to make it harder for me to find you.”

  “Possibly. Would you hunt me down if I did so?” She gave him a saucy look.

  “Always.” He kissed her roughly before releasing her. “Lendon’s reception is tonight.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” She picked up the last biscuit.

  “Don’t become stout,” he warned in a commanding tone as he stood and walked to the door, but his eyes twinkled, especially when she threw the pas
try at his chest.

  “Your aim’s improving, Lady Kelso.”

  Elizabeth smiled and rang for another tray of biscuits.

  * * *

  Spence looked upstairs, impatient Elizabeth hadn’t yet come down. He’d tried to take a peek at her preparations, thinking to watch her dress and perhaps take advantage of her barely clothed body, only to find himself shooed out.

  Her maid took great pleasure in shutting the door in his face. Bertie didn’t like him.

  My wife may soon feel the same way.

  He wondered if Elizabeth would pick up on the nuances at Lendon’s reception. No one would dare say anything outright. He didn’t worry someone would approach her and nonchalantly tell Elizabeth her husband had been an assassin for the last ten years. But Elizabeth was far from unintelligent. He’d seen her face after the incident at the inn when the drunk had accosted her, when she’d asked if the man was dead.

  I need to tell her.

  Drumming his fingers against the bannister, Spence cursed himself for being such a coward. But their happiness still felt too fragile to withstand his confession. She loved him, but for how long?

  “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.

  “Not quite the compliment I was looking for.” Elizabeth stood at the top of the stairs, stunning in an ice blue gown of watered silk. Brilliants had been sewn across the skirt and bodice, so that Elizabeth sparkled with each step she took. Diamonds dangled from her ears and at her wrist. Ribbon matching her gown had been wound through the mass of thick ebony curls atop her head.

  Spence’s mouth watered, already contemplating the things he’d do to her when they returned from this little event. How did this gorgeous creature belong to him?

  A smile tugged at her lips. “You don’t like the dress?” She spun before him, sparkling in the candlelight like a tiny, well-endowed star.

  “I don’t care for the neckline.” Christ, he sounded like a possessive prick. “Your breasts are about to pop out.” Every gentleman at the reception would be praying Elizabeth would inhale deeply and burst the seams of her bodice.