How to Ravish a Rake

by Vicky Dreiling

  She sipped it. “Oh, it is a bit strong, but it’s very good.”

  He shrugged off the banyan and sat beside her on the mattress. “I thought you would like it. There’s a story.”

  She sipped again. “Tell me.”

  He swallowed. “An Italian artist intended to paint a Madonna and chose a model. Supposedly, she was a widow of little means, but she wished to give a gift to the painter for the great honor he had bestowed upon her. According to the tale, the widow made a secret concoction that included brandy.”

  When he kissed her, she could taste the liqueur on his mouth and tongue. She sipped from her glass again. “It’s so sweet it’s sinful.”

  He sipped again and smiled. “I want to paint you.”

  “You paint?”

  Laughter lurked in his eyes. “In a manner of speaking. I’ll show you in a bit.” He lifted his chin. “Drink some more.”

  She sipped. “I see your plan. You think if I get a bit inebriated, I won’t be nervous.”

  “I agree that might prove beneficial, but I had something else in mind.”

  “If you’re intending to paint me, you’ve no paint, canvas, or easel.”

  He swirled his finger in the liqueur and painted her lower lip.

  “Oh,” she said, laughing.

  His eyes danced mischievously. “Are you done with your glass?”

  “No.” She laughed. “I’m jesting.”

  “I’ll be patient.” He leaned toward her and licked her lip. “Mmmm. You taste so sweet.”

  “What a surprise,” she said. Oh, she was a little giddy.

  He reached over and pulled on the drawstring of her nightgown.

  She took another sip of the liqueur and handed him the glass. He set the glasses aside. “Guess what I’m thinking about?”

  “Painting?”

  “Actually, I was thinking about getting you naked.”

  “But I thought you wished to paint me,” she said.

  “I wish to paint you nude.” He winked. “Will you be my model?”

  “Certainly. I will be your Madonna.”

  “Madonna’s been done before. I was thinking Amy.”

  “What will you call your painting?” she asked.

  He pulled the pins from her hair. “The bride undone.” He set the pins on the table. Then he combed his fingers through the curls and arranged them so that they flowed over her breasts.

  She drew in her breath and let it out slowly. He stood and removed his trousers and drawers. He was aroused, and the sight sent desire eddying through her veins. His sculpted body was all hard angles and planes. She reached out to touch his hot chest. When she trailed her hand down to his cock, his nostrils flared. She closed her hand round him and squeezed gently. He shut his eyes momentarily, and when he lifted his lashes again, his expression was glazed.

  He grasped her night rail and pulled it over her head. Then he urged her to lie back on the pillow. He sat beside her and retrieved one of the glasses with liqueur. He dipped his fingers inside and painted her lips, her earlobes, and dabbed at her neck. Then he licked her lips. Her breathing grew faster. He tasted her earlobes and nipped one with his teeth.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Don’t like that?”

  “You surprised me.”

  “It’s all right. If I do something you don’t like, then you must tell me. If I do something you like, you should tell me as well,” he said.

  She inhaled and exhaled slowly. He bent his head and suckled her neck. Then he set his hand on her stomach. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m going to pour a bit on you.”

  Oh, heavens. She’d never thought he would do something like that.

  He dribbled the liqueur between her breasts and down the length of her stomach. Once again, he set the glass aside. Then he knelt between her legs and licked his way down her body. Her stomach trembled a bit the entire time.

  “Sit up for me.” His voice rumbled.

  She did as he asked. He retrieved the glass and painted her nipples liberally. Then he took a sip and set the glass aside. He kissed her openmouthed, and she tasted the sweetness on his tongue. His hands cupped her breasts. She clung to his shoulders, and when he bent his head to suckle her breast, she arched her neck, sending her hair spilling down her back as desire engulfed her. A high-pitched sound came out of her throat. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. She was on fire.

  When he lifted his head, she gazed down his torso and saw that his cock was fully erect. He lay on his back and brought her on top of him. His fingers combed through her hair again, and she let her curls brush along his chest. His expression grew increasingly ardent as she moved down his torso. Now and then, she planted kisses on his hot skin. When she let her hair sweep over his cock, he hissed in his breath.

  He rolled her to her back and kissed her deeply. “Draw your feet on the bed,” he said. Then he slid his big hands underneath her bottom and tilted her up. He looked up at her from beneath his thick lashes. Then, watching her, he stuck two fingers in his mouth. The look in his eyes should have incinerated her.

  He caressed her folds and slowly inched one finger inside her. “You’re wet.”

  She inhaled on a ragged breath.

  He slipped another finger inside her and moved ever so slowly. “I’m stretching you. If you feel any discomfort, you must tell me.”

  She was breathing fast. “I like it.”

  He stilled the movements. “Squeeze my fingers.”

  She looked at him in confusion.

  “Tighten your inner muscles,” he whispered.

  She did and caught her lip with her teeth at the exquisite sensation.

  “Again,” he said.

  She whimpered.

  “Feel good?”

  “Yes,” she whispered and squeezed his fingers again.

  “Don’t stop,” he said. Then he slid his body down the bed. When his tongue flicked high among the folds of her sex, she cried out. A wicked laugh escaped him, but he didn’t stop. His fingers moved in and out, stretching her, and then the waves of pleasure gripped her.

  Will positioned his cock, and entered her as the rhythmic contractions of her orgasm continued. A wounded sound came from her throat. He slowly slid all the way home and framed her face. “Sweet Amy.” He kissed the tears on her cheeks. “I tried not to hurt you.”

  Her nails bit into his back.

  He stayed very still. She was so tight inside, and God help him, it felt so good. But he would not move, because he could feel the tension in her. He kissed her lips. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “Sorry it hurts,” he said.

  After a few moments, she sighed. “Oh, it’s better when I’m not so tense.”

  He moved a little inside her. “Did it hurt?”

  “No,” she said, smiling.

  He eased in and out as slowly as he could and gazed into her eyes the whole time. There was an expression of wonder on her face.

  “Wrap your legs around me.”

  When she did, he hissed in his breath at the feeling of her soft, slim thighs cradling him. “I love your legs,” he said.

  He bent to kiss her again, but his control started slipping. Will bared his teeth, focusing on a slow and steady rhythm, but the pressure built and built and built. The sounds of wetness drove him to the edge. The instinct to pump faster gripped him. He was breathing hard and losing himself to the erotic sensations. She clutched him with her arms. He stilled and pressed higher. Then she squeezed him with her thighs. The erotic spasms started, and he gave himself up to the pleasure as his seed spilled inside her. The throbbing went on and on and on, the sensations stronger than any he could ever remember. When he was spent, he collapsed atop her, completely and utterly sated.

  Sleep had claimed him

  He was heavy, but she didn’t want to let him go. He was still inside her, and she loved the feeling, even if she was a little sore. She gazed at the fan of his black lashes. Her strong, muscular man looke
d a little vulnerable while sleeping.

  He’d made her feel beautiful and wanted.

  A rush of tender feelings flooded her heart. While he continued to sleep, she dared to whisper the words. “I love you.”

  He’d tried so hard to be gentle with her, but his need had overcome him. She’d watched him the whole time, focusing on his pleasure. Toward the end, he seemed to have been in something of a frenzy, pumping faster and faster. Then he’d strained inside her, and she’d felt him throbbing.

  Smiling, she gently brushed a lock of his black hair aside. His eyes opened. He looked disoriented for a moment. She kissed his smooth cheek, realizing he must have shaved this evening. Her husband was considerate.

  He pushed up on his elbows and cleared his throat. “I must be crushing you.” His voice sounded sleep-scratchy.

  “I like holding you,” she said.

  He rolled over onto his back and looked at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, more than all right.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t more considerate.”

  “You were,” she said.

  “I need to take care of you.”

  “Will?”

  He got out of bed, looked at the sheets, and winced.

  She saw the bloodstains and sought to reassure him. “I’m fine, Will.”

  He drew the covers over her. “I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him walk to the bowl and pitcher. He wasn’t the least bit modest.

  Will poured water from the pitcher into the bowl. When he started to wash himself, she looked away. A few minutes later, he walked to the bed with a damp cloth and towel. He stripped the covers back. Realizing his intent, she tried to protest, but he put his finger over her lips. “Shhhh. Let me take care of you.”

  Her face heated as he applied the cloth.

  “I should probably sleep in my own bed tonight until you’re recovered,” he said.

  “I wish you would stay with me.”

  “It’s too tempting to say no.” He snuffed the candles, climbed into bed, and faced her. “If I should get amorous during the night, you must stop me. Your body needs rest.”

  The idea that he might awaken during the night and want to make love stunned her. She supposed there was much she still had to learn about her husband. “Are all men as eager as you?”

  “Probably,” he said, yawning. “Let’s spoon.”

  “What?”

  “Turn your back to me,” he said.

  “Where is my night rail?”

  “We’re sleeping naked,” he said, pulling her to his chest and cupping her breast.

  “Oh, I like this,” she said.

  “Me, too. Sleep,” he muttered.

  His deep, even breathing was the only sound in the room. “I love you,” she whispered again.

  Upon awakening, he’d shocked her and had to explain about morning erections.

  “You’re jesting.” She was lying on her side with the sheet pulled over her breasts, and her lovely red hair was spilled all over the pillow.

  “It’s the truth,” he said. “Men get erections throughout the day, me included.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s quite obvious with the current fashion for tight trousers,” he said.

  “I’m not in the habit of staring at men’s crotches,” she said in a shocked voice.

  He burst out laughing.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Aunt Hester was right. Men are animals.”

  He ripped the sheet off her. “Grrrr,” he said, crawling over her.

  “Wiiiiiiillll!”

  “Got you in my trap, and now you’re my breakfast.”

  She laughed and tried to push him away.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” he said.

  “No.”

  “Well, since you declared defeat in our wager, you have to stay abed with me for six more days.”

  “What? No! I ceded the wager to you as a gift. That’s not the same as defeat.”

  He grinned at her outraged expression and shook his head slowly. “That wasn’t part of the rules.”

  “You just lost the wager,” she said. “I win three more weeks of courtship. The fun is over for you.”

  Deuce take it. She looked serious. “Let’s compromise,” he said.

  She narrowed her green eyes.

  “Seriously, I’d planned to still court you. By the way, have I mentioned how enticing you look in nothing but that emerald necklace?”

  “That’s not courtship. That’s lust,” she said.

  He almost said the latter was the goal of the former, but that would probably get him kicked out of bed. “There is still a great deal for us to learn about each other,” he said. “You have to admit we have fun together, too.”

  “I’m not staying in this bed for six days,” she said.

  He sighed. “I had my heart set on it.”

  “Will, be practical. We can’t eat in bed.”

  “Yes, we can.” He caught himself before saying he’d done it any number of times. Even the slightest hint about his former paramours would likely earn him a permanent black mark. Besides, none of them had been truly special. As Bell had said, Amy was one in a thousand.

  “If we stay in this bed, I know you won’t be talking,” she said.

  He bent his head and kissed her nipple. “I can talk while I make love.”

  “Will, there are practical matters—a bath, clean sheets, and your heavy beard makes you look like a pirate.”

  “Oh,” he said. “I’m being a selfish brute. You probably need to recover anyway.”

  “From what?” she said.

  Hope leaped in his chest. “I thought you might be a bit sore, last night being your first time and all.”

  She knit her brows. “No, sore isn’t the right word. It’s actually sort of a pleasant feeling.”

  “Amy?” he said.

  “I’ll compromise,” she said. “Three more weeks of courtship.”

  He groaned.

  “There is one other condition,” she said.

  “You’re torturing me,” he said.

  “I’m very sorry, but I demand that you make love to me every night.”

  He laughed and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. “It’s time for your riding lesson.”

  “We have no steed,” she said.

  “Yes, we do,” he said. “Lean forward, love. You’ll like this.”

  He stroked her folds and dipped two fingers inside her. “You’re soaked.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “Put me inside you,” he said.

  She did as he asked and slowly pressed down until she was fully seated. “Oh, I like that.”

  “Come closer to me,” he said, “and ride.”

  She moved slowly. “Oh.”

  “Feel good?” His voice rumbled.

  “Yes.” She felt self-conscious at first, but she soon gave herself over to the sensations. He cupped her breasts and suckled first one nipple and then the other. She reached for the pleasure he’d shown her. He closed his hands over her hips. The emerald necklace lapped at her neck as she moved.

  “I like watching your tits while you ride,” he said.

  His earthy words should have shocked her, but the way he’d spoken called to the wanton inside her. Then she sensed the moment was upon her. Amy cried out as the pleasure rushed through her like a waterfall. She tumbled over and over. The powerful sensations racked her body. She stilled as her inner muscles contracted over and over again. Then she collapsed on his chest.

  He rolled her over, and she realized their bodies were still joined. This time, he thrust inside her without reservation. She clasped her hands round his neck, and he never took his dark gaze off of her. “You are mine,” he said.

  “Yes.” He possessed her, and she wanted it. Wanted all of him. He was her husband. Her man. Her heart.

  The ropelike muscles in his strong arms tensed as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. He was breat
hing fast, and she loved watching his expression. He was a lusty man, in his prime, young and strong. She wondered if she would ever stop marveling that this beautiful man wanted and desired her.

  He bared his teeth, thrusting faster and faster inside her.

  She wrapped her legs round him and squeezed.

  “God, yes,” he said, hissing in his breath. Then he pushed until he could go no farther, and she felt him throbbing inside her. When he collapsed atop her, she caressed the damp strands at his nape, and though he was heavy, she welcomed the weight of his body.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled and rolled onto his back. Then he caressed her cheek and closed his eyes.

  Two hours later, he took her for a long walk through the woods. There was something he needed to discuss with her. He didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him before. He supposed it was because they had postponed consummating the marriage. But he figured they’d better talk about it before it was too late, if it wasn’t already.

  He took her to the old swing not far from the tree house. “I’ll push you,” he said. She smiled as he sent her higher and higher. Eventually, he let it slow. “Amy, there’s something that occurred to me a little belatedly.”

  She looked at him inquiringly. “What is it, Will?”

  “Well, you know lovemaking can have consequences,” he said.

  “Yes, I know,” she said.

  “We never talked about children,” he said.

  She shrugged. “I just assumed they would come along. Are you worried that it will be like my parents?”

  “No, not really,” he said. “It’s just that we didn’t take any precautions.”

  “What do you mean?” she said, frowning.

  She didn’t know there were preventive measures. He squatted beside the swing. “You understand what happens when I spill my seed, right?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He blew out his breath. “Well, I could have withdrawn from your body to prevent getting you with child.”

  Her smile faded. She looked in the other direction and let her bonnet partially hide her face. “I always wondered how courtesans managed.”

  He figured she was thinking of the women in his past. “It’s damned foolish to keep ladies ignorant of basic facts of life, especially when it concerns your own bodies.”

  “You sound almost angry about it,” she said.