Book Read Free

Let Sleeping Rogues Lie

Page 27

by Sabrina Jeffries


  “That’s not true! I trusted you with my innocence, didn’t I?”

  He uttered a harsh laugh. “No, you didn’t—you sacrificed it to me, trying to keep me in the dark. Not that I blame you—God knows I haven’t done much in my life to inspire trust. But let’s at least have the truth between us now. Tessa is merely an excuse for not yoking yourself for life to a man like me, whom you’re probably not even sure you can trust to keep his prick in his trousers.”

  The bleak accusation tore at her. He seemed to really believe what he was saying—that she considered him unworthy to be her husband. And he probably thought he was. He’d spent an entire life railing at the Bickhams, while secretly believing they were right about him, that he was a monster inside.

  That’s why he donned his devil-may-care façade—to hide the “debasement” within him. As long as she refused to marry him, he would continue to believe it.

  Not if she could help it. Since she refused to let him risk his niece’s future, she’d have to prove him wrong by other means. Even if it meant taking a chance with her heart.

  “You’re wrong about me,” she said softly. “I want us to delay our marriage until your niece’s situation is settled, but until then, I mean to be yours in body and soul, no matter how reckless that may be.”

  As he stared at her with such powerful longing it made her chest hurt, she added, “I trust you implicitly, Anthony. How could I not trust the man I love?”

  He blinked rapidly, then glanced away. “You mustn’t say that. About…loving me.”

  Her heart caught in her throat. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s already hard enough for me to control myself around you. If I thought that you really loved me—”

  “Oh, but I do.” Ignoring his protective stance, she moved close enough to catch his head in her hands and force his gaze back to her. “And I’m not afraid of you. You aren’t this beast you seem to think yourself.”

  Taking her by surprise, he grabbed her by the arms and then pivoted to shove her back against the door so hard it knocked the wind out of her. “You don’t know what I am,” he growled as he loomed close. “You’ve never seen me out of control, never seen me as myself. Even when taking your innocence, I showed a restraint that required every ounce of my will. But if you keep saying—”

  “That I love you? I can’t help myself, you know.” She felt small and helpless with the bulk of his body against hers, yet any fear it gave her was fleeting. “I do love you. Caution me if you will, but it won’t change anything.”

  “You don’t understand.” As his heated gaze raked her, his fingers dug into her shoulders, sending a thrill chasing over her flesh. “With other women, it’s easy to be careful—they only rouse my body. But with you…”

  His voice grew ragged. “You rouse my mind, my senses, my soul. I spend my nights dreaming of you, and my days aching to be with you. When we’re together, it’s too much to bear, and when we’re not, it’s the only thing I want.”

  “That’s love, my darling—not the beast,” she whispered, recognizing some of the same things she felt. “Because I, too, lose control whenever we’re together. I think I proved that Saturday night.”

  “You didn’t lose control. You did exactly what you set out to do.”

  “I didn’t set out to lose myself in you. Or forget my purpose.” Looping her arms about his neck, she brought her face up close to his. “I didn’t set out to fall in love, I promise you. But if you think a paltry thing like the supposed violence of your desires will frighten me off now that I love you, then you don’t know me.”

  She kissed him, desperate to make him see that he had her, no matter what. Within seconds, he took over the kiss, grasping her head to hold her still as his mouth plundered and ravaged and yes, devoured hers.

  His teeth nipped at her lip, his rough whiskers raked her skin, and his hands tore at her buttons and tapes as they had that night at Stoneville’s, but this time she didn’t try to slow him or do anything to halt the urgency of his desires.

  He was the one to do that. He stopped abruptly, halting her hands on his cravat as she tried to unknot it. His hot breath came hard and fast, and the tumult of need in his eyes made her shiver beneath her gown.

  “I won’t…I mustn’t make love to you here,” he said with an outraged dignity utterly at odds with his supposed debased character…and the rising bulge of his erection against her mons. “Not in this place where…You aren’t like the others. I refuse to see you sullied.”

  In a flash, she understood, and his reluctance angered her. “Well, I refuse to let you put me on a tidy shelf labeled ‘wife,’ where you have to restrain yourself with me. I’m not one of your fragile society females.”

  “You have no idea how—”

  “—fierce you can be when you ‘loose yourself’? Actually, I do. And if you’ll recall, I didn’t crumple beneath your rough advances that day at the school.” She snorted. “You and your half-baked notions about what a woman can bear—you’re the one who has ‘no idea’ about me. I can be just as ungoverned as you.”

  Fire leaped in his face. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.” The hint of challenge in his tone was unmistakable.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  She dropped to her knees on the floor. “Prepare yourself, my love. I’m about to demonstrate my lusty side. Because this is one woman you’ll never have to worry about overtaxing in the bedchamber.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dear Cousin,

  I share your skepticism about rakehells reforming, but Lord Norcourt isn’t like other men of his kind. If anyone can keep him settled, it is Madeline. She has a way with him unlike any I’ve seen. I believe they suit each other.

  Your friend in all things,

  Charlotte

  Anthony watched in shock as his practical little bluestocking unbuttoned his trousers with clear intent. She couldn’t mean…she wouldn’t know how…

  “What the bloody devil do you think you’re doing?” he ground out.

  Her smile was downright witchy as she unfastened his drawers. “Proving we’re meant for each other. You claim to have an insatiable appetite. Well, I have an insatiable curiosity. Ever since I read in that harem book about pleasuring a man with one’s mouth, I’ve wondered how it worked. And I intend to find out.”

  His already half-roused cock stiffened unbearably. “It isn’t something…that is, only whor—…women of a certain kind—”

  “Do this? Are you sure?” Her eyes shone a hot, inquisitive gold that sent his blood rushing to his head. “You don’t know what a man and his wife do in the privacy of their bedchamber. Can’t a wife pleasure her husband in this manner?”

  “Well, yes, but…I don’t usually…That is, I have found…”

  With her cheery muslin gown pooling on the floor about her, she shot him a bemused smile. “Don’t tell me the jaded rakehell hasn’t tried this particular act.”

  Perversely, color rose in his cheeks. “I have. But I…prefer not to.”

  “Oh?” She drew his trousers and drawers down, and his bad boy sprang out, practically doing a dance for her. Her eyes glittered up at him mischievously. “Your body says otherwise.”

  “My body’s a damned fool. It happily ignores my attempts at restraint.”

  A sudden awareness touched her features. “That’s why you don’t like this sort of pleasuring. Because it means giving up control of the act entirely.”

  Oh, she read him too well for his comfort. But it was more than that. The first few times a woman had sucked his cock had been like lying in that damn bed at the Bickhams’, helpless to stop his bad boy from pushing up his nightclothes. He’d hated being unable to govern his impulses, and he’d avoided it from there on.

  That was why the idea of her taking him that way, in her respectable teacher’s day dress, tantalized him beyond reason. She was the only woman who’d ever tempted him to lose himself in her. The only one who’d ever loved him.


  Love him? She must be insane. Or at least unaware of what she was getting herself into. But if she took him in her mouth, she would learn just how uncontrolled he could be. Then she’d never marry him.

  “It has nothing to do with control,” he lied. “I just don’t want you to…it’s not right for you to…”

  She cast him an earnest glance. “It’s no more wrong for me than for any other woman, especially if you intend me to be your wife.”

  As she leaned back to stare at him, her hair fell in a delicious tumble about her shoulders, making his breath catch in his throat. He tried to ignore the alluring image she made, but that was damned hard to do.

  “You have odd notions about marriage,” she went on. “It needn’t be limited to only one kind, where you are forced to withhold your strongest impulses and I faint at the sight of your manly excesses. We’re different from other people, so why not have a different marriage? We can make it whatever we want.”

  He uttered a choked laugh. “You only just lost your innocence two days ago, sweetheart—you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That is precisely why I want to try this. How else can I learn?” She leaned forward to lick him, sending his blood into a frenzy. “Besides, I think it’s time you discover I can handle your lack of restraint perfectly well.”

  “Madeline…” he said, half demand, half plea.

  But her mouth already encased his cock. A groan erupted from low in his chest. He fought the urge to grab her head and force it roughly up and down on his eager flesh. Her caresses were too soft, too gentle, yet even so, he let out an audible moan when she drew back.

  “You must tell me what to do,” she said, as her finger circled the damp crown of his cock, driving him insane. “The book wasn’t specific enough.” A rare blush touched her cheeks. “And I don’t think I can take all of you in my mouth.”

  “You don’t need to,” he choked out, giving up the fight. “Just close your hand around the root and suck what’s left.” As she gripped him as instructed, he added, “Only do not be too gentle, I pray you. Hard is better.”

  She grinned. “I would imagine hard is always better.”

  He let out a garbled laugh that turned to a sigh of pure pleasure when her mouth seized him, drawing on him so strongly that he gasped.

  God save him. He’d as good as given her permission to reduce him to a pile of rubble—not that the impudent chit needed permission. She would do as she pleased with him anyway.

  His sane half wanted to keep protesting her behaving like his fancy woman. The insane half, guided by his willful cock, prayed to God she would suck him dry.

  The insane half got precisely what it wanted, for she began a motion that sent him reeling back against the wall. Within moments, he’d grasped her head and was thrusting into her mouth, unable to control the impulse. She weathered it admirably, and seconds later, he could feel his release building.

  It was too soon, too fast, and he tried desperately to halt it, but watching her pleasure him made that impossible, and when he then tried to pull free, she grasped his naked hips to hold him prisoner. Before he knew it, he’d exploded in her mouth like the unconscionable scoundrel he was.

  Cursing his lack of control, he fumbled in his coat for his handkerchief so she could spit into it, but she was already swallowing his seed. He gaped at her, having only seen whores do that before. “You didn’t have to…”

  “What?” She took the handkerchief and wiped her mouth with a look of pure innocence. “That’s how they described it in the harem book.” An uncertain frown touched her brow. “Did I do it wrong?”

  “God, no,” he gasped as he collapsed weak-kneed against the wall. He hadn’t kissed her, fondled her breasts…anything. For God’s sake, he hadn’t even removed her clothes! And she worried about doing it wrong.

  Drawing her up into his embrace, he struggled for breath. Had she no idea what she’d done to him? How appalled he was that he hadn’t pleasured her once?

  “I told you I could handle you,” she murmured, her teasing smile stirring his cock to life again.

  Anger surged through him. She thought she’d made her point with her little show of wickedness, as if one encounter proved everything. “You have no bloody idea how to handle me,” he warned.

  When she drew back, clearly shocked by his tone, he forced her hand to his rising erection. “I wasn’t lying about being insatiable. Already I want you again.”

  “Good.” Her eyebrows lifted in challenge. “I am more than happy to oblige.”

  He pinned her against the wall, grabbing her hands on either side of her to hold her captive. “Don’t play with me, Madeline. You’ll regret it.”

  Thrusting her breasts deliberately against his chest, she said, “I doubt that.” She brought her mouth up to his, then whispered, “Show me the beast, my love. I want to see the beast unleashed.”

  His bad boy went into a frenzy at the idea of doing as it pleased. Yet he hesitated. What if he did show her? And what if she fled screaming from him?

  Better now than after they married. If she wanted him as he was, then by God, she would have what she wanted.

  Abandoning his usual care, he stripped her clothes from her, heedless of what tore in the process. He ripped her chemise right off, partly out of eagerness to see her naked, partly out of need to shock her into sense. She could handle him, could she? Did she know what that could mean?

  Apparently, she did, for her eyes burned with excitement throughout his performance. Then she actually returned the favor by tearing his clothes, too, popping off buttons, shredding the ends of tapes. She even took the initiative by kissing him, and when it rapidly exploded into something hot and wild and raw, with both of them fighting for mastery, he wanted to throw back his head and crow.

  He never allowed himself to be like this with a woman. And the fact that it was with a woman who claimed to love him—love him, what madness!—was every bit as intoxicating as he’d feared. The feel of her naked flesh against him further inflamed him, and even though he knew he should fondle her and utter soothing compliments, all those things he did to keep a firm rein on his wild appetites, he couldn’t think beyond wanting to be inside her.

  Then she hissed, “Take me, Anthony. Take me now.”

  That was all he needed to lift her legs, still encased in their stockings, and enter her without preamble, hard and fast, shoving her against the door like an animal. Yet she was dripping wet as he drove into her, and she met him thrust for thrust, eagerly enfolding him in the warm velvet of her honeypot.

  “God, you really are a witch,” he ground out as he pounded into her with blind need. “You drag me…out of my mind…every…single…time.”

  “I do my best,” she said, kissing his jaw, his neck, everything she could reach, then locking her legs about his waist like the temptress that she was, until they writhed like two sea serpents against the door.

  Then he was coming again, too soon, and yet as he spilled himself inside her with a guttural cry, she cried out her own pleasure almost at the same moment.

  He collapsed against her, his heart full. She had let him come inside her twice now without any hint of regret. What if she were right about the two of them? What if he’d found the woman who could match him in desire and wit? The woman he could share his whole life with? Who understood him?

  The sweet possibility swelled through him like a lyric that lingered long after the song was finished. “Dearest,” he murmured, as she fell back gasping. “Are you all right?”

  With a softly contented sigh, she stretched up to nip his ear. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  Just the feel of her hot breath in his ear roused his cock yet again. “I still want you,” he said, curious to see her reaction.

  Her laugh soared through him. “I should hope so, or I’d have to chide you for your definition of insatiable.” She drew back to give him a dazzling smile. “If the beast wants more, then by all means�
�”

  With a growl, he scooped her up and shoved open the door, then carried her into the adjoining bedchamber, where he laid her out on the bed, determined to feast on her as long as she would allow.

  But with his first sharp pangs of hunger abating, his frenzy began to ebb. Now he wanted to enjoy her at a more leisurely pace. Exulting in her mews of encouragement, he indulged every desire he’d had from the moment he’d first met her. He stripped her stockings from her, then tasted every part of her, fondled every inch—licking at her perfect bottom, teasing her breasts to taut pebbles, rubbing his scent all over her like the possessive beast he’d become.

  She explored him, too, with a curiosity so endearing it made him laugh more than once. She seemed to find his ballocks fascinating, asking him questions that only a naturalist would think to ask. It was what he loved most about her—her thirst for knowledge.

  Then he turned to pleasuring her with his mouth. He took his time, not out of need to maintain control but for the sheer joy of watching her reach ecstasy beneath his caresses. Reveling in her easy response, he stroked and sucked and teased until she’d screamed herself hoarse with her climaxes. Only then did he enter her again, this time with less urgency and more feeling.

  And as he buried himself inside her warm flesh, a contentment like he’d never known washed over him. This was home—she was home. For the first time, he wanted to stay inside a woman forever, be with her forever. That was the real reason he’d never married—because there’d been no Madeline to love.

  Love?

  He pulled back from the thought. That way lay madness. She’d rapidly become all that was good in his life, all that was pure, and while her endurance of one afternoon’s frenzy of lovemaking heartened him, he wasn’t ready to give his heart over fully. Because if he took that step only to find that he’d frightened her off, he didn’t know how he’d bear it.

 

‹ Prev