In Bed with a Rogue

by Samantha Grace

  The air whooshed from Helena as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She blinked against the sting of approaching tears. Crying was a ludicrous response. Sebastian was no one to her. She had refused to become his lover, and if he so chose to pursue his entertainment elsewhere—even with that harpy—Helena should be happy he was no longer pursuing her. She wasn’t.

  She kept her attention focused on the empty stage and prayed the opera players would begin performing soon, so she wouldn’t be forced into conversation. Her prayers were answered when a short while later Madame Beaudry took the stage in a gown reminiscent of a Roman toga and a crown of gardenias on her loose curls. Helena had never seen anyone appear in public in such disarray, at least not in Polite Society. Madame Beaudry’s imperious voice invaded the theatre, holding everyone spellbound. Everyone except Helena, who couldn’t stop thinking about Sebastian and whose bed he would visit once they parted this evening.

  Her visions were vivid and unsettling. And the harder she tried to banish them from her mind, the more invasive they became.

  “How was your day, Lady Prestwick?” Sebastian asked close to her ear.

  She jumped. “Fair, my lord. And yours?”

  “More painful than I anticipated, but well worth the effort. Benjamin Hillary will no longer be bothering Eve.”

  Her gaze strayed away from the stage and found the light bruise on his cheek. How she adored those cheekbones. It was silly, she supposed, but their prominence made her want to place her lips against them. She clamped them tightly together. Someone else would be soothing his hurts tonight, and she hated that she wanted it to be her.

  He discreetly touched her hand, his smile charming. “I’ve plans to set off on my nightly mission as soon as the opera ends. Perhaps you and Eve could ride home with Ellis so I may get an early start.”

  Disappointment settled in her belly. She had been looking forward to the short drive back to her town house with just his and Eve’s company. His eagerness to visit the brothel was too much to handle.

  “I should find the retiring room.” She jerked her hand from his hold, hopped from the chair, and hurried into the corridor. It was deserted. She was halfway down the staircase, uncertain where the retiring room was, when Sebastian appeared at the head of the stairs.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She shook her head and kept moving. She didn’t trust herself to speak without her voice cracking.

  He trotted down the stairs faster than she could escape and caught her at the landing. His hand on the small of her back sent tingles racing through her. “Helena, stop a moment.”

  She hated his effect on her. She didn’t want to be one of them, one of the multitudes of ladies who lost their wits when he was near. She didn’t want to fall in bed with him, and yet her body insisted she did.

  She swung her head around in search of someplace to run. Why couldn’t she recall where the retiring room was?

  His hand slid around her waist and held her in place. “Come with me.”

  He steered her away from the vestibule and down a dimly lit corridor leading backstage.

  “Someone might see us.”

  He pulled her closer to his side, perhaps thinking she might try to run, but she was hopelessly caught like a fly in a spider’s web. The pleasurable tingles radiated from his touch and enveloped her in a dreamy haze. She couldn’t run even if he wasn’t holding her. Or perhaps because he was, she didn’t want to flee. Heavens, she didn’t know anymore.

  Quite a racket came from behind the door leading to the actors’ domain. Voices were raised in alarm, warnings to hurry because someone was due onstage. A crash, then a curse.

  “We can’t go in there,” she said at the same moment they reached a side door and Sebastian flung it open. He pulled her outside into the dark courtyard. The sounds grew muffled when the door closed.

  Away from censorious eyes, she struggled to suppress the urges that had been an undercurrent every time they had been together. Slumping against the wall, her legs quivered as if her bones were turning to aspic. She clung to the bricks, desperate to deny the need to touch him. His firm chest, his sculpted jaw, his lovely mouth. She cleared her throat. “What are we doing here? What do you want?”

  She stiffened when he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His touch was light and undemanding. The tenderness hammered at her resistance. His dark gaze searched her face and she forgot how to breathe.

  “I want to know what I have done to upset you.”

  “Y-you’ve done nothing. I told you I was looking for the retiring room.”

  “Helena.” He leaned toward her to place his lips against her temple. She closed her eyes, her chest aching at the intimacy of his kiss. “When a lady is upset, she often hides in the retiring room. Please, tell me what I have done.”

  His voice was soothing, and his mouth so warm and soft when it touched her forehead. She struggled not to melt into his kiss, but her surrender was dangerously near.

  “It is not you. It…it is everything.”

  The women at the brothels. Lady Lovelace. Every widow who had ever captured his attention.

  He sighed and shifted to create space between them. “You are discouraged about Lavinia, but I will find her. I have given my word, and I will not stop searching until I have news for you. If she isn’t at one of the high-end brothels, I will expand the search.”

  No. She pressed her palms against her head as if she could stop the rush of images flooding her thoughts. There must be another way to find Lavinia, because Helena couldn’t tolerate another night of torment. Her imagination proved too relentless and cruel. Her throat tightened as if trying to hold her words inside, but they burst through anyway. “I realize I have no say in which lovers you choose, but please, don’t let it be her.”

  He drew back. “Her?”

  “Lady Lovelace. Or—or those women at the brothels. Or anyone.” Good Lord, this is mortifying. But she couldn’t stop talking or keep herself from throwing up her hands and gesturing like a madwoman. “It kills me knowing you frequent such places, even if you are going there on my behalf. I cannot sleep, and I pace the floors until my legs are too weak to move another step. I hate it. I am sorry, but I do. And I realize how ridiculous this sounds, but you should know the truth about—”

  “Enough.” The word echoed in the courtyard.

  Her breathing ceased as she awaited the harsh reprimand she was due, but his soft chuckle carried on the night air. “Thank you, Helena.”

  She blinked, trying to make sense of his response. “Thank you?”

  “I have wanted to hear those words for days.” His smile was a flash of white in the dark. “Perhaps not those exact words, but anything that confirms you desire me as much as I do you.”

  Was that all they had? Lust? Even though she knew there was nothing more between them—that there could never be more—his admission stung. He thought of her no differently than any of the others who had come before her. She lowered her head, trying to sort through the mess of emotions inside her.

  “Look at me, Helena.”

  As much as she wanted to defy him, she couldn’t. She was just another feebleminded lady powerless to deny Sebastian Thorne anything.

  He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. Helena closed her eyes and leaned her head against the hard wall. He teased the other corner of her mouth then kissed the tip of her nose. She was in trouble. Deep trouble. As she anticipated the next touch of his lips, her pulse became a rapid pounding in her ears.

  He pulled back, still cradling her face. Her eyes flickered open.

  “Since you have been honest with me, I will be with you as well. I have no interest in those women in the brothel. I haven’t bedded a single one. I meet with the madam and pay her to answer my questions.”

  She frowned even though his answer relieved some of the tension that had built inside her. He paid for information? Why had he never mentioned this to her? When their time together ended, she
didn’t want to owe him anything. “How much?”

  “Christ.” He turned his gaze toward the sky as if appealing for help. “I am pouring out my heart, and she wants an accounting of my funds.”

  “I do not!” Heat crept into her face as she realized how ludicrous her response must have sounded. She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “We will sort it out later. Please continue.”

  Amusement glittered in the depths of his eyes as his thumb traced the curve of her cheek. He placed a light peck on her mouth, and she drifted forward, not ready to lose the warmth of his kiss. Their lips lingered together, tearing down the last of her defenses. When he finally withdrew, she barely held back a disappointed groan.

  “As to Lady Lovelace,” he said, “I’ve already told you there is nothing between us.”

  “But she wants there to be.”

  “She will be disappointed then, won’t she? The truth is, even if every lady in Mayfair offered herself to me now, I couldn’t accept.”

  “Is that so?” An odd stirring began in her chest and expanded until she was too full to hold it inside. She smiled widely, dottily. “Why not?”

  “You know the reason.” He hauled her against him in one quick move, causing her to cry out in surprise. His mouth grazed her ear. “I only want you,” he whispered, his breath hot enough to singe her skin, and yet shivers raced through her body.

  “Sebastian.” His name sounded like a reluctant surrender. Like it or not, she was good and conquered.

  Capturing his face, she kissed him hard. Her back arched to bring them closer.

  Sebastian hungrily returned her kisses; a low growl rumbled in his chest. He backed her against the wall and pushed her arms above her head as he plundered her mouth. His fingers circled her wrists. She could have pulled free, but it was incredibly arousing. She had never been kissed like she was being claimed.

  He shifted his weight to hold her firmly against the wall with one hand. His other skated down her arm and side, then skimmed the underside of her breast. Prickles invaded the tips—pleasurable pain—and she strained toward him. He plucked her nipple through her dress, sending a strong current to her core. She gasped.

  He tore his mouth from hers and placed his at her ear. His warm breath on her neck heated her blood. “I want to make you come, angel.”

  Her heartbeat almost drowned out his whisper, but she had heard him and his words made no sense.

  “C-come where?”

  His lips stopped nibbling her neck and he pushed back to bring his face into view. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “Have you never had an orgasm, love?”

  She had never heard of any such thing. “I don’t know.”

  He grinned before his mouth came down on hers for a sound kiss. “You have made me a happy man, Helena, for I get the honor of introducing you to the first of many.”

  “I don’t underst—” His fingers massaged her nipple and cut off her thought. Her head rested against the wall as he created the loveliest sensations with his touch. His mouth found hers again and kissed her until she was breathless.

  Capturing her bottom lip between his teeth, he gently tugged, then smiled again. “I’ve wanted this luscious mouth for so long, I used to dream about it at night.”

  Her body was awash in heat. “You did not.” Her voice sounded husky and sensual. She didn’t know where it came from at first.

  “I did too.” He kissed her again, then tugged off his gloves and tossed them on the ground. “Now I will dream of all the lovely ways I will teach you to use it.”

  Despite the embarrassing nature of their dialogue, she couldn’t help returning his teasing smile. “I already know how to talk, so show me something I don’t know.”

  “Lady Prestwick.” He chuckled and gathered a fistful of her skirts. “Must you always have the last word?”

  She didn’t answer as her dress inched up her calves and over her thighs. The cooler air on her bare bottom made her feel exposed and vulnerable, but in her heart, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Moonlight emphasized his cheekbones, and she placed a light kiss over his bruise.

  He paused and stared at her with lips parted.

  She averted her gaze, embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Does it hurt badly?”

  Cradling her cheek, he tipped her face up. “My kindhearted Helena, always concerned for someone else.” When he kissed her, his lips were tender and filled her with achingly sweet affection. It satisfied and made her desperate at the same time. She grasped his coat and pulled him into her.

  His finger forged a slow trail along her inner thigh until she was squirming in anticipation.

  “Be still or I’ll have to start over.” His smile widened to show he was teasing, but serious or not, she pressed against the wall and tried not to move as the exquisite torture continued. When his fingers brushed her curls then cupped her, she sucked in a sharp breath, but she held her position.

  “Good girl.” He kissed her again, then knelt at her feet. “Hold your skirts.”

  She did as ordered, eager for whatever reward he would give her in return. His finger traveled to the apex between her legs and lightly circled the bud there before slipping inside her.

  She softly moaned when his wet finger returned to that sweet spot and swept over it again. He nudged her legs farther apart, then placed a kiss on her inner thigh, just above her knee, as his finger slid back inside her. He repeated the pattern as his lips kissed a path up her leg and his other hand kneaded her bottom. The sensations flowed through her, disorienting and heavenly.

  His hand slid down the back of her thigh to her knee and lifted it over his shoulder. With the wall behind her and his body bracing her, she felt secure. He lifted his face and grinned. “Now, don’t forget to hold still, sweetheart.”

  A retort rose in her throat but came out in a strangled cry when his mouth touched her. His fingers opened her to his tongue, which stroked over her moist flesh. With each slow sweep, her body responded. Soft moans escaped on every breath and her hips began to undulate. She no longer cared about being compliant or good. She wanted the pleasure his touch promised. His strong hand clasped her bottom and encouraged her movement. His mouth worked in unison as his fingers stoked a fire inside her. A fire that was burning her from the inside out.

  When his tongue flicked over her bud, the intensity made her arch her back. Sebastian held her tighter and did it again and again until flames licked her belly, spreading to her breasts and up her chest. The fire climbed her neck and roared in her ears until she had no more room for it. It escaped on loud cries that echoed off the walls of the courtyard.

  Slowly withdrawing his finger from her, he licked it, his wicked grin making her heart skip. He rose and kissed her, his smile never fading. “I told you to be still, Lady Prestwick. Now you’ve mussed your hair.”

  “Oh?” She released her skirts and absently patted her hair.

  He wrapped her in his arms and for one moment, she allowed herself to lean against him. Allowed him to support her when she was determined to be strong enough to stand on her own. “Don’t let any scoundrels waylay you on the way to the retiring room this time, or you will miss the entire first act.”

  Good Lord, the opera. She’d forgotten all about it. “How long have we been gone?” she asked.

  He released her with a sigh and backed away. “Long enough that you cannot afford to spend more time with me.”

  The wall at her back felt cold without his heat surrounding her. She reached for his perfect white cravat, pretending it needed straightening to create an excuse to touch him again.

  “Helena.” His voice was strained, pleading. She slid her hands over his arms as his mouth skimmed across hers. Desire coursed through him, his muscles straining beneath her touch. It seemed unfair to leave him in such a state.

  She didn’t want to go. Now or later.

  The truth was like being doused with a bucket of cold water. Her hands dropped to her sides. She couldn’t allow her good sense to be overc
ome by a handsome face. What had occurred tonight could not alter her plans. Scotland was the only place her sisters had a chance for a new start.

  Sebastian embraced her once more before she could step away and lightly kissed her forehead. “You are frowning. Have I made you unhappy?”

  “No.” She sank against him, closing her eyes and savoring the feel of his body pressed against hers once more. “You’ve made me feel…”

  Alive. Marvelous. Weak-minded. Unsettled.

  She eased from his arms with a shy smile. “This was all very agreeable, my lord.”

  “Very agreeable.” His chuckle was forced. “Next time I will aim for splendid indeed.”

  Heat washed over her as she realized how blasé she sounded. “I did not mean to imply tonight was not lovely.” She pressed her palm to her brow and silently cursed her inability to say the appropriate thing. “I should go before someone wonders what I have been doing all this time. What if Olive hears I disappeared during the first act?”

  A smile spread across his face, and he playfully chucked her on the chin. “Chin up, wench. Perhaps no one noticed we disappeared at the same time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I am certain someone noticed.” Lady Lovelace, perhaps? The idea gave her a burst of satisfaction, although she would never gloat as the widow had with her. Well, perhaps a little.

  “Deny until your last breath. If no one finds us together, there is no proof.” He kissed her once more before sending her back inside the theatre with a promise to arrange an escort home for her and Eve. The door closed behind her and she was alone in the corridor. She took a deep breath in an attempt to restore her calm, then hurried toward the retiring room, suddenly recalling the location. Once she was composed, she made her way back to the theatre box. Lord Ellis spared a quick glance, but didn’t make any comment.