Lady Sarah's Sinful Desires

by Sophie Barnes

  “Because I was a fool, Sarah, influenced by the artificial ideals of Society without considering who you truly are. But as soon as I pushed all the rules aside and focused on you alone, everything became clear. When I woke this morning, it was with the intention of asking for your hand. Imagine my disappointment when I found you gone.”

  “But you came after me,” she whispered, still unable to believe he was really standing before her in the flesh.

  “No small feat, considering my horse went lame. I had to walk five miles and managed to get caught in a rainstorm, but I was determined. I still am. Which is why I’m going to tell you a secret,” he said as he gazed down at her. “You wouldn’t be my first lover either.”

  She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her in response to his unexpected confession. “That’s entirely different! You’re a man, after all—­you’re expected to have a few liaisons before you settle down and marry.”

  “Perhaps,” he agreed with a nod, “but does it really matter to you that I’ve taken other women to bed? As long as I didn’t do so after we met and that I swear to be faithful to you from this day forward? Isn’t it enough for you to know that the women in my past are completely insignificant now that I have found you? They don’t matter, Sarah. Not when it’s you that I love. Don’t you see? The same applies to you. Yes, I was shocked when I discovered your indiscretion, but that’s because it went against everything I’ve been raised to expect from a lady of breeding.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting the rules of Society ought to be less stringent on that score, because I’m afraid even I would balk at such a notion. I do have sisters, whom I intend to stop from making the same mistake I made.”

  Christopher’s direct gaze remained unwavering. “I’m not planning a rebellion, Sarah. I’m just trying to make you see that you’re not a bad person because of what you did and that you deserve to be happy. Since you are willing to overlook my past indiscretions, I think it only fair that I should overlook yours.”

  She shook her head. “I just . . . I fear it will always be there, looming in the background and casting a shadow upon our happiness.”

  “Tell me,” he said as his hands went to her shoulders, holding her firmly in place. “You said that marrying me would be your fondest wish, but is it really? If you’d never met Harlowe and your virtue was still intact, would you accept my offer of marriage then?”

  “In an instant,” she said, unable to be anything but completely honest with him. “I love you, Spencer, with all my heart.”

  “Then that is all that matters, Sarah. The rest is in the past. What you need to do now is look to the future and accept that what I feel for you is more powerful than any misgivings I might have about your lack of innocence. You are sweet, kind, considerate, generous, and you have punished yourself enough these past two years. It’s time for you to stop suffering, when the truth of the matter is that there are ­people among us who’ve done worse things in my opinion. Why you should be denied marriage and children when several peers are openly committing adultery without anyone batting an eyelid defies logic. Besides, nobody need ever know about your history, since there’s little chance of your parents mentioning it, and Mr. Denison has every reason to keep his mouth shut if he wants his daughters to marry well. But even if word were to get out by some misfortune, you ought to know that I will stand by you, no matter what.”

  It was a beautiful speech that tugged at Sarah’s heart, tempting her to surrender, yet she couldn’t seem to shirk the apprehension that filled her. “You are the most generous of men, my lord, and I am humbled to know how greatly you revere me. Please know that I reciprocate your affections, but even though I do agree with your views, I just can’t help feeling as though it would be selfish on my part to accept—­that I would be benefitting far more from our union than you.”

  “That you would even think something like that would be an obstacle is yet another reason why I admire you, but I’d like you to consider that if we don’t marry, it will only be because of your reluctance and your fears. Nothing else is standing in our way, Sarah.”

  Looking back at his imploring eyes, Sarah realized how right he was. The only thing stopping her from leaping into the future with Spencer was her own guilt and cowardice. But perhaps her guilt was misplaced. After all, he already knew her darkest secret and was willing to overlook it so they could be together. And her fears . . . did she really wish them to deny her the chance of a happy family filled with children and the company of the man she loved? “I was planning to seek refuge in a convent if you failed to find me,” she confessed.

  Spencer stiffened. “Where?” he asked.

  “In France.”

  He expelled a deep breath. “I’m glad I caught up with you then, because I do believe you would have been making the biggest mistake of your life.” Bowing his head, he kissed her gently on the forehead. “You don’t belong in a convent, Sarah. You belong with me.” And as he tipped her chin with his fingers and lowered his lips to her mouth, she knew he was completely right.

  Chapter 20

  When they broke apart a short while later, Spencer met her gaze with such earnestness that she could practically feel his love enveloping her like a blanket. “I’ve spoken of marriage repeatedly,” he said. “You know what’s in my heart, and I daresay it matches the contents of your own. Please tell me that you will agree to be my wife, for I can think of no other woman with whom I’d rather spend every moment of the rest of my life.”

  The answer came to her quickly. “Yes,” she said. “I will marry you today or any other day of your choosing.”

  “I wouldn’t wish to deny you a proper wedding in London with your family and friends present,” he said as he hugged her against him, his arms securely wound about her midsection, allowing her to savor the warmth emanating from the solid frame of his body.

  His scent clung to his shirt and Sarah breathed it in, delighting in its familiarity and the knowledge that the man it belonged to would soon be hers. “I don’t care about any of that,” she said as she looked up at him. “All I want right now is to be your wife. The sooner the better.”

  Spencer grinned as he placed brief kisses all over her face until she was laughing with him. “I know precisely how you feel,” he told her a second before his mouth captured hers. All playfulness vanished, replaced instead by an urgent hunger that Sarah eagerly encouraged, her hands clutching at his shoulders while inviting him in, sighing in response to the feel of his tongue stroking against her own, tempting her to follow his lead. And follow she did, until she found herself breathless.

  “Your secret,” he said, wishing for only truth between them as he leaned back a little so he could take her in. God, she was beautiful, with that wispy hair and those clear blue eyes. “My brother knows of it as well.”

  Concern marred her face as he said it. “Your brother?”

  “I know I promised not to tell anyone, but I was furious after you explained to me the reason for not being able to pursue you. I needed an outlet for my frustration, along with a stiff drink to calm my nerves, so I sought out my brother. He won’t tell anyone. I can assure you of that.”

  “How can you be certain?” Uneasiness filled her voice.

  “Because the only person he’s willing to speak to is me. Nobody else has been allowed near him after he returned from the war.” He swallowed convulsively before adding, “His face shows severe scarring.”

  Understanding dawned in her eyes. “And yet he came with you to Thorncliff?” she asked softly. “How very curious.”

  “Considering the extent of the work being done at Oakland Park, he hardly had much choice.” Christopher paused for a moment before saying, “When we are married, would you mind terribly much if he were to come and live with us at Hillcrest? I’ve yet to move there myself, since I never fancied living alone and away from my family. It’s an odd notion, whe
n I’ve always been used to being surrounded by ­people.”

  “Then we shall make it our home together,” Sarah said, her eyes warming as she gazed up at him. “Of course your brother will be welcome.”

  It meant the world to him to hear her say that, for he knew how difficult it could be having Richard beneath the same roof. “It won’t be easy for you,” he added, deciding it would be best to lay all the cards on the table immediately rather than allow her to be surprised. The dark cloud Richard carried with him was not the sort of surprise most ­people would care for.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said in earnest. “He is your brother. If he would like to live with us, then I will happily assist in making the arrangements for him to do so.”

  “You are remarkably kind, Sarah. It’s one of the many reasons I adore you.”

  “Do you truly?”

  There was a hopefulness about her, but there was also a measure of doubt—­as if she scarcely dared allow herself the possibility of him feeling deeply for her—­that almost broke his heart.

  “You told me you wouldn’t be able to offer me love,” she explained to him quietly.

  “I was a bloody idiot, unaware of my feelings for you and more than a little afraid of welcoming such vulnerability. But I can no longer deny what’s between us. More importantly, perhaps, I do not want to. I love you, Sarah, most ardently.” And to cement the notion, he lowered his lips against hers with a possessiveness he’d never felt toward another. She gasped, startled no doubt by his urgency, and Christopher took advantage, conquering her mouth as he pulled her fiercely against his chest, his arms a band of solid iron around her slim waist.

  It took only a moment for her to gather her senses and join him, her tongue meeting his stroke for stroke. Soft murmurs occasionally slipped from her throat, increasing his ardor. There was no doubt that he burned for her. Hell, his very soul was afire with the need to join with her—­to be as one, a single creature sharing a heartbeat.

  Shocked and concerned by his wayward thoughts and where they would surely lead if they weren’t immediately dampened, he stepped back, placing distance between them and trying desperately to ignore the mess her dressing gown was in, having slipped off her right shoulder and parted in the middle. “Sarah,” he murmured, stunned by the gravelly tone of his voice, which seemed to convey every wicked desire that welled up inside him. He was having a devil of a time holding them in check. “I should leave.”

  “Don’t.” Her chest rose and fell in response to her labored breaths, drawing his attention to her breasts.

  His groin responded with instant alertness. “If we continue down this path . . .”

  “Were you sincere when you asked me to marry you?”

  “Of course!”

  “In that case, I should like to avoid the torture of sleeping in separate beds. Especially since I have no innocence to protect.” Her eyes glistened. “Please, Spencer. I appreciate your wish to do what is proper, but as things stand, Harlowe remains my only lover. I’d like to change that before we say our vows.”

  He grimaced, the reminder tarnishing the moment. “Harlowe is dead,” he clipped, more harshly than he’d intended.

  Her eyes widened a little, but then she nodded, accepting his anger.

  Feeling like an ass, Christopher began to apologize, but she cut him off, saying, “When I come to you on our wedding day, I want to be yours in every possible way, Spencer. I don’t want anyone or anything between us, which is why I would like you to banish Harlowe from our lives forever by claiming me as your own. Right now.”

  “Christ, Sarah.” Did she have any idea what she was doing to him by saying such things? Her words were most provocative, and in return he found himself uncomfortably restrained by the tight fit of his trousers.

  Rising up on her toes, she wound her arms around his neck, pressing the entire length of her soft body against his. “Make me yours,” she whispered right before she kissed him, stripping him of any remaining resolve.

  Inflamed by her touch, he deepened the kiss, savoring the faint sigh that escaped her when his hand stole inside her robe to cup her breast. His thumb swirled across the tight peak of her nipple, evoking a soft groan from her throat. By God, he’d never felt a keener need to divest a woman of her clothing. He needed to see her, feel her, without restriction.

  But her hands were already pulling at his shirt with a desperation to match his own, and before he could protest, she was pushing it over his head, baring him to her perusing gaze.

  For the first time in his life, he found himself concerned about his physicality. He wanted to be everything she wanted, but the way she was looking at him . . . he couldn’t decide if it was lust or pain or perhaps something else altogether. “Do you approve?” he asked, his confidence hinging on her response.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice cracking a little, “so perfect.”

  Christopher’s spirits soared. “So are you,” he said as her hands slid toward his waistline. Damnation! If he didn’t pull himself together, he’d soon be standing before her as naked as the day he was born while she remained fully clothed. He could not allow that. Not when he was as desperate to see her body as she apparently was to see his.

  Grabbing her wrists, he slowed her progress, even as his fully aroused manhood jerked with the anticipation of her touch. “Not yet,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers, his tongue licking along her lower lip before thrusting inside the wet warmth she so willingly offered. If she touched him now in his present state of hunger, he feared he wouldn’t last.

  “Don’t move,” he told her gruffly, returning her hands to her sides. Leaning back so he could take her in, he pushed her robe from her shoulders, loving the sensual way in which her eyes widened and her lips parted. A rush of embers spread across his skin, increasing in heat at the sight of her breasts, outlined to perfection beneath the flimsy fabric of her nightgown, their hard centers thrusting toward him. Unable to resist, he lowered his head and took her in his mouth, his tongue flicking across her nipple as he drew her to him.

  “Oh God,” she sighed, her hands clutching at his shoulders while he dampened the fabric between them. Kissing his way back up, he made his way along the curve of her neck while she splayed her fingers across his back. His lips moved carefully over her delicate collarbone until he reached the edge of her neckline. “Turn around,” he said as he gently nipped her shoulder. She did as he bade without question, her breath shuddering in response as he ran one hand along the length of her spine, down and over the curve of her bottom, delighting in the faint outline the delicate cotton of her nightgown offered.

  When he squeezed her gently, she arched in response, as if he’d commanded her to do so. Reveling in the bold reflex, he did it again and was this time rewarded with a deep mewling sound as she pushed back toward him, her hips tilted in a most provocative manner. “Bloody hell,” he murmured as he pulled at her nightgown, bunching the fabric as he hoisted it up over her hips, along the length of her torso and finally over her head. His breaths came in short bursts as he stared at the image she portrayed—­her body lean, yet curved in all the right places. By God, he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her now—­beneath him, moaning his name as he thrust himself inside her. A groan escaped him at the mere thought of what was about to transpire, while hot desire raced to his groin, hardening him to the brink of despair. He needed release, but first he would have to free himself from his restrictive trousers.

  “Don’t move.” Reaching down, his eyes fixed upon Sarah’s delicious body, Christopher unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and allowed himself to spring free. Relief surged through him, but it was swiftly replaced with an urgency that forced him out of his clothing with remarkable speed.

  Straightening himself, he fought for discipline, knowing how vital it was that he make this good for her. His heart was hammering in his
chest as he stepped up behind her, his hands going to her hips as he pressed himself against her. She gasped in response to the contact, and Christopher smiled with wolfish satisfaction. There was no doubt she could feel the firm insistence of his manhood pushing between her thighs. Slowly, he ran his fingertips up toward her waist, across her belly, where her soft flesh fluttered beneath his touch, and up over her breasts. “You’re perfect,” he murmured in her ear as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. Her head fell back against his shoulder on a sensual sigh of pure pleasure. Christopher grinned as he bowed his head to lick her earlobe. If only she knew the extent of the pleasure he planned on giving her.

  Never before had Sarah felt as wanton as she did now, standing there in a state of complete deshabille while Spencer did the most delightful things to her body. Oh Lord, it felt good as he gave his complete attention to her needy breasts, tugging and squeezing that plump flesh until they grew seemingly fuller. Between her thighs, she could feel the hard length of him gloriously brushing against her most intimate part each time she tilted her hips. It stirred an ache in her that seemed to have come alive with sizzling embers. Heaven above, it was most indecent, but she now longed for him to touch her there with greater insistence. Tilting her hips again, she hoped to encourage him to do so without the need for words. Almost immediately, one of his hands released her breast and came to rest upon her hip. With deliberate firmness, he urged her bottom closer still, until she was pressed up hard against his groin. “I get the impression you’d like to feel my fingers somewhere else on your body,” he murmured in her ear.

  All coherent thought fled her brain at those words. She could only manage a weak nod, to which he chuckled before kissing her shoulder. “Spread your legs further apart,” he said. “Yes, like that. Christ, Sarah, do you have any idea how much I want you?”

  “I can feel it,” she whispered, attempting a tone she hoped would not sound quite as inexperienced as she felt.