Rakehell's Daughters

by Gayle Eden

He was behind her when she stepped into the bedroom.

  Alex noticed all lamps were doused. Only the flickering firelight from the sitting area bathed the chamber in umber hues.

  Turning at the steps to the elevated bed, she was so close to Edmund their bodies touched. He reached, taking her by the waist, sitting her on the high mattress before stepping between her legs with the whisper sounds of his snug trousers against her silk stockings

  Her arms went around his shoulders. He adjusted them, undid his shirt, and then peeled it off— dipping at the same time to delicately kiss her mouth. Breathy and balmy their lips teased at kissing, until he leaned her back and stretched over her, to begin bathing her in kisses.

  Alex closed her eyes, her palms dragging over the silk coverlet until they were at his hard muscled sides. She arched and stretched. His lips and tongue bathed her skin, mapping inches down her throat, over her shoulders, to her breasts.

  Teasingly he kissed between them, over each rib to the side, back to the center, lingering at the flat area around her navel. Edmund’s strong hands cupped her hips, shaped her backside, and moved under her thighs, skimming with his glide downward, to nip and kiss her legs.

  Breathing sluggish though her heart thundered, Alex heard the crackle of fire, felt the stir of his warm breath with each velvet kiss. When he lifted and straightened it was only to turn her to her stomach, pushing her hair aside, starting at her nape with suckles, and kisses that drove her a little mad.

  Air pushed faster through her lungs. The tension compressed and arousal built. His teeth raked her spine, his hands rubbed and kneading the back of her thighs. By the time he was biting soft at each buttock, she was moving them subtly in need.

  Groaning as he left her once more, she buried her face in her arms hearing the thud of his boots before his weight shifted the mattress. His thigh over her, and torso up, propped by his arm, she peeked up to meet his gaze when his palm skimmed from shoulder to spine.

  “Beautiful…” He leaned down for a soft kiss. That hand went low, dipping between her thighs. Fingertips dragged across the entry of her sex, slick and wet, forward, until she shivered and jerked her lips away with a gasp.

  Edmund eased the touch down to rub softly at the entry. His mouth at her ear when he whispered, “Open your legs a bit, love.”

  She shifted and parted them, her ass a little higher and spine arched at the two inches of finger that went inside her. Teeth bearing down on her lip, Alex rubbed her face against his skin, tense and yet so hungry for the gradual sinking of his touch.

  That touch fully inside her, Edmund nudged her head, whispering as he bit her ear and said in that sexy long remembered voice, “Sleek, hot, snug…”

  Alex whimpered, and then groaned when he began to pull out and go back. The slow in and out thrust was sexual. The pad of his finger rubbed past nerves inside of her sex that were both maddeningly sensitive and sexually greedy.

  Panting now, she began to move, grinding and arching. Caught up in the dark sound of his breaths, the soft sexy whisper he uttered before his teeth scraped her shoulder, turning her head, she buried her hands in his mussed hair, gasping at the sexual chills, and parting her legs more.

  Edmund sat up a bit and eased another finger inside with that one.

  “Oh, God…”Alex tossed her head back, her sex riding his fingers faster. “Edmund…Edmund…” The desperate sounds of her voice folded into the sudden escalation of need.

  “Alex, yes. Move and feel it.”

  Alex moaned and moved. She had a distant realization that his voice sounded tight and more urgent. But when he withdrew and turned her; she griped his head, pulling him down for a duel of tongues as sexual as his fingers had been.

  Parting, he slid down and shoved her legs open, leaning over to run his tongue between the lips of her sex. Her hands pulled at his hair, nails raking his back. He suckled and teased those nerves to almost torturous pleasure.

  When he lifted, Alex reached blindly for the latch of his trousers. He kissed her and whispered, “Just a moment, love.”

  He slid off the bed but was back in seconds, his hot skin and muscle gliding over her side. Kissing once more, his hand wedged between her legs, fingers thrusting deep in the slickness.

  Alex skimmed his hip, tugged the hair around his sex, and then fisted the thick and throbbing length. He moaned in her mouth and thrust into her hand. She firmed her hold and her strokes. They parted mouths, panting for breath. He eased fingers out of her, rubbing high between the lips, faster and firmer.

  Alex moved fluidly to accommodate when he laid back slightly, his free hand joining hers, they worked up and down his cock.

  His face flushed, eyes glittering he rasped, “Now, now.” His finger filled her, thumb rasping between the lips of her sex.

  Alex watched their hands, his much darker and veined, behind hers. She felt the jerk and swell under hot skin and kept her fist higher gliding over the exquisitely smooth head.

  “Alex…Christ.” His voice was loud after their whispers and husks, “I’ve no control left.”

  She kissed him and dipped down to suckle his nipple. His frame jerked and shuddered, his seed pumping gently, bathing her fingers slick and hot.

  “Bloody hell.” He fell heavily back for a moment, and then eased his hand from her before sat up.

  Mussed hair and heavy eyed, he looked over his shoulder at her. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Alex pulled the robe over her after he left the bed and came back to wipe her palm. He left again and returned telling her to sit up.

  Placing her on the edge of the bed, he slowly parted the robe, and spread her legs. Edmund looked sexily up at her as he flowed downward to his knees. “Take what you want, how you want it.”

  Alex sucked in a breath at first touch of his tongue. Laving her sex, Edmund glided one of the hands from her hips and employed his fingers at thrusting and rubbing, whilst he attended the nub of nerves with his tongue.

  It built and squeezed wonderfully. Alex moved her hips, took it. She lifted her knees and then opened wide to him. Her head back, palms braced on the bed, she felt his head moving, his mouth hungry and tongue rubbing. Her muscles clamped on his fingers and milked.

  She uttered gutturally, “Harder, more!”

  He began to suckle harder. His fingers tight inside her, the fingers of his other hand teased between her buttocks. Her world lifted—exploded, in a shower of fire that rolled inside her like hot waves. Lying flat, Alex felt tremors working through her on the downslide, felt his softer touching, his kisses now, and lips sweetly giving erotic kisses over every exposed inch. Her lashes closed, body calmed, on that blanket of bliss.

  Edmund came to lie beside her. His palm cupping her side as he rolled her to him and held her there. Alex slid her arm around his waist, her body feeling the slow and deep vibrations of his heartbeat—pretending for the moment, that they were real, that this was more than just an unavoidable clash of lust.

  * * * *

  Alex awoke an hour before dawn. The sharp scent of coffee teased her senses. Discovering that she had been tucked into bed, she sat up while pushing the fall of curls out of her face. She spotted, Edmund, bathed and wearing boots, crisp shirt and trousers, sitting with his hip against the windowsill.

  The window was opened slightly. Though still dark out, the kept fire in the other room showed the swirl of stem from the cup he held, the damp strands of hair coming untucked from behind his ears—and the pensive set of his features. She indulged only a moment tracing the taut skin across his high cheekbones, the sensually molded lips, and the impossibly attractive line of his strong nose.

  He had beautiful skin, all over; a warm burnt honey hue that felt like silk over steel. He lifted the cup, sipped, and her eyes watched his sooty lashes rest half-mast, as if he were not looking out but inward.

  She eased out of bed and did not look at him until she had gone to the bathing room and washed. Coming back inside, having done her hair in a twist, s
he carried her shoes, the stockings she had slept in. Alex set them by the pressed gown draped over a bench. Her cape was with it. She let the robe fall and held the gown, stepping into it, getting the sleeves up before doing the side latches. It was while she was holding up her hem and stepping into her shoes that she glanced at Edmund.

  He had obviously been watching her.

  “Auvary is my good friend.”

  Alex stilled. Her body felt as if a chilly wind had swept it.

  Blinking she motioned to the cup. “Might I have some coffee?”

  “Alex.” He was standing.

  She faked a smile. “I’m terrible when I wake up, even after a nap.”

  He cursed but poured her a cup.

  Alex took it and scooped up cape and gloves, going into the sitting room and taking up a chair—even though he’d growled her name again.

  She took bracing sips and endeavored to think fast, determined not to care what bloody excuse he came up with. She suddenly wanted to go home, to just—be home.

  He entered, pulling on his jacket, a vest he had worn, obviously had been brought from the coach. The cravat was loose around his neck.

  Stopping at the chair across from hers, his gaze bore into her whilst she gazed at the fire.

  “Auvary cares for you. He’s my friend.”

  “I heard you the first time.” She got to her feet and set the cup down. “Where is Jo?”

  “In the coach, waiting.”

  “We can send it back. There’s no need for you to go with us.” Cape on, she went to move past him.

  His arm shot out, hand grabbing her wrist. “Alex.”

  She looked at him. “There will always be an excuse, Edmund. And I really don’t want to hear the same one twice.” She jerked her hand free and left.

  A servant helped her find her way out, although Edmund did join them in the coach.

  Jo appeared well and rested. The duchess had loaned her shoes and a cape. Her jade eyes looked between Alex and a hard faced Edmund and she murmured, “Quite a night, eh?”

  “Quite.” Alex flickered her gaze to Edmund’s remote profile.

  “Sorry about—everything.”

  “It is fine, Jo. So long as you are well.”

  “Right as rain, save for having learned a lesson—and discovered that men are cowards. They say one thing, do another. Relay one thing, say another.” She grunted. “I don’t know why they call females the captious sex.”

  “Me either.”

  At the mansion, Edmund escorted them inside. He took Alex’s hand to detain her again, as Jo went up the stairs.

  “Alex….”

  She gazed up at his face with wide and clear eyes. “I meant what I said before. I am not going to presume. I am not going to chase you, Edmund. You are the one who—”

  “I know," he sounded grim and glanced around at the hushed foyer.

  She waited a heartbeat and then uttered, “Good night, Edmund.”

  Alex pulled her hand free, ignoring his soft curse and headed up the stairs.

  Jo waited by her door. “Did you—?”

  “Everything but.”

  Jo grinned and Alex snorted, “Nothing has changed. Not for either of us.”

  Jo squeezed her hand. “Get some rest. I'll likely sleep all day.”

  “Me too.” And, Alex did. She slept until evening, finding a note from Auvary that he would collect her for a ride the following morning.

  Chapter Six

  Alexandria threw herself into enjoying her relationship with Auvary. In fact, she threw herself into the season, with almost the same frantic pace Jo seemed to be going at it.

  It was not easy. Not those times Auvary may be escorting her, but also in their party were her father, Auttenburg, Edmund, and the whole group.

  However, Alex danced with her father, danced with the Viscount, and though Auvary was not big on that exercise, she joined him in many a card room, giving all the appearance of having the time of her life.

  On their morning rides, when it was just herself and Adam, she relaxed and did enjoy coaxing those rare smiles from him. She had asked him what was amiss at his estate, he told her in depth about some flooding problems. When not plagued by thoughts of Edmund, they really did have good conversation—.

  At many of the amusements, Adam leaned against pillars or stood on balconies and watched her at a distance. Alex had not allowed any kissing those first two weeks after the encounter with Edmund—she simply could not.

  It was very difficult to fool a man of Adam’s experience and character. Alex did not answer his raised brow looks those days when he attempted a kiss, and she avoided them by starting some conversation.

  One night, at the theater, she was in his box with him, her gown a cool icy white and wearing diamonds her father gave her. She saw Edmund with the woman he had spoken to and went outside with at the ball. However, staring too long at them, she had turned and caught Adam watching her. It was then that Alex realized for all she meant she would not chase Edmund; she still let herself be distracted by him.

  There was only a bit of the season left before everyone retired to the country. Alex visited bookshops with her sisters and did evening strolls with them in the park. They walked side by side, sometimes quietly talking over the events of the season.

  Van Wyc was still close to the family, still her father’s friend, but he had pulled back in some subtle manner, that even Val noticed.

  What Alex noticed that Valerie was still a young and beautiful woman, and that despite whispers, men turned and watched her. At balls she sat herself with the matrons, but with her lush mink hair and full figure, her height and classic looks, it was like sitting a queen among rabble.

  The experiences seemed to add something to her character. The pride and steel she showed in the face of whispers alone seemed to hush some of the biggest gossips. Many times Alex would look over and feel a swell of pride eyeing that lifted chin and composed face, she’d see the glow of Val’s supple skin against lavenders and pearls, deep purple or pewter, and note how many men were gazing in that direction.

  Jo—was in worse shape than herself. It was at a ball, some mixed thing that was somewhere between chaotic and comical as the hostess’s drapes caught fire from someone’s cigar, a card table collapsed and broke Old Brownville’s foot, and one of the debs tossed her lunch on a duke’s polished boots in the receiving line.

  Everyone had attended, including her father, Edmund and the circle. Alex had worn a new ball gown of deep gold, white gloves and pumps. Jo too, had her most dashing get up on, a black gown encrusted with faux diamonds that was so thin it was near sheer, and so low in neckline, even the Marquis had rolled his eyes and muttered at it.

  Alex had been dancing after leaving Auvary to his cards and cheroot, Jo had no shortage of partners—but somewhere in their frantic efforts to avoid certain people—Jo pulled her to the window for air and muttered, “I believe I could dance nude around him in circles and he’d pretend to not see me.”

  Grabbing a glass of champagne for them, Alex handed her one and offered dryly, “Trust me. He sees you.” She looked over her shoulder and then tried to push Jo’s breasts down into the neckline a bit.

  Jo laughed. “I got a bit carried away with this one.”

  “I’ll say. I kept hoping during that reel that half the chap’s eyes didn’t bulge out, waiting for a breast to pop free.”

  Snickering, Jo took a long drink. While she did, Alex remembered standing near Sascha Auttenburg a dozen times seeing his jaw flexing and lime eyes flashing as Jo whirled past.

  “What is afoot, with the Viscount?”

  Jo leaned her hips on the sill and used the back of her hand to smooth a curl that escaped the diamond band. “Well, let’s see. From first glance, he wanted me. Then he ignored me. Then—he kissed me. Then he ignored me again.”

  “I understand more than you know.”

  “That’s only the first week,” Jo snorted. “At the masque ball I kissed sever
al men—all in fun, fireworks and all that. In any event, he was there and witnessed it apparently. He drags me off, nearly ravishes me, talks to me as if I am in pigtails, and growls all sorts of dire threats. Next gathering—he ignores me.”

  “Oh, my.” Alex held her gaze and drank half her glass before croaking, “Dire threats?”

  Those Jade eyes flashed. “I dared him. I provoked him and when he kissed me I wanted to rip his clothing off and—well you know.”

  Jo looked away. “Then he does this. He looks through me. He ignores me—or looks daggers at me. I understand partly. Well, no I do not. I did not exactly go after him. I was perfectly happy to flirt with several men. That was my plan. He—was always so intense. The bloody kiss did it. Fair buckled my knees. Then I hear he’s set to wed some duchess—”

  “Oh, no.”

  “He says not. But when I pressed, he did not deny an attachment.”

  “Perhaps there is more to it?”

  “There is, debts. Gambling debts, and damn near blackmail. Some claim he still beds her. Other’s not. She is in her late thirties—impeccable bloodlines and powerful connections, shows up the end of the season for some grand thing. However, when I tried to say something to him about it, he bit my bloody head off. He more or less implied it was none of my bloody business. We had a row, the night I was in the park.”

  “But I thought—”

  “Oh, I did. After Sascha provoked me, and I slapped him—and he kissed me. I was so bloody enraged and confused I latched onto the first man there—determined to spend the night in his bed.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I’ve no idea. Eight glasses of champagne and half his flask of brandy and I forgot to ask.” Jo winced. “I ended up knocking him out with his own walking stick, climbing out of his coach and running through the park. That’s how I lost my shoes.”

  Shaking her head, Alex muttered, “Dangerous.”

  “Very. I was that alert. No kissing with that lout. He began grabbing and pulling my hair. A rough, and sadistic, bastard.”

  Shuddering, Alex murmured, “You need to keep a weapon on you.”

  Jo slid up her hem showing a dirk under her garter. “I do. I used to wear it all the time. But since I was keen for seduction and not rape, I didn’t that night.”