Lady Beauchamp's Proposal

by Secret Cravings Publishing

  It wasn’t enough.

  He drew back. “Before I say goodbye to you tonight, Beth—not forever because I will never concede defeat, my love—then I will have you, in every way I know.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes flashed silver, their expression fierce. “Whatever you want, James…” She began to pull at the knots of his cravat, her lips hot and demanding on his jaw, nipping down his throat as she exposed the sensitive flesh beneath. He shuddered beneath her onslaught. But he needed more. Of her.

  “Wait…” He shrugged off his coat and hooked it over the doorknob to the room, then pushed a rolled-up rug against the bottom of the door. He did not want the prying eyes or ears of Hugh’s minions bearing witness to what he and Beth were about to do.

  She’d clearly thought that he would be so disgusted by her husband’s nefarious plan that he would walk away. He had to show her that he would never, ever do that. That his life began and ended with her. But he only had tonight.

  Rothsburgh turned back to where she stood by the fireplace watching him with her beautiful eyes, arms clasped about herself as if she was already bereft. He couldn’t bear it. He closed the distance between them and kissed her again, backing her toward the wall beside the hearth with his forward momentum. Pushed a leg between hers and was rewarded with the sound of her moaning again as he ravaged her neck with rough kisses. She would have a rash from his stubble and bruises from where he sucked and nipped at her. Good. The thought filled him with immense satisfaction, fuelled his already rampant arousal. She was his and he wanted to leave his mark.

  Her hands clawed at the front of his brocade waistcoat and linen shirt, fumbling with buttons and ties. When she pushed her hands beneath his shirt and raked her fingers across the bare skin of his abdomen, he hissed with pleasure. He wanted his flesh to be branded by her too.

  More. Now.

  The imperative to taste her, take her was so great, he dropped to his knees before her.

  “Lift your skirts,” he rasped, staring up at her. She immediately complied with shaking hands, revealing white silk drawers, and neat ankles and feet encased in black kid boots. Without ceremony he tugged the silk ribbon at her waist and pulled the drawers down, off and over her boots. Better.

  Ravenous with need, his gaze and hands traced over shapely calves wearing nothing but silk stockings, up to her slender naked thighs and the dark blonde curls covering her sex.

  Splaying his hands across her hips to hold her steady, he circled and dipped into her navel with his tongue before running his nose down the center of her silky smooth, flat abdomen, to her curls, deeply inhaling the musky scent of her arousal. He groaned; he wanted her so badly his balls throbbed, but he would satisfy her this way first before he lost himself inside her.

  “Hook your leg over my shoulder, my love.”

  She did as he bid, and he was immediately afforded with the irresistible, mouth-watering view of her exposed, deep-pink folds already slick and glistening, and her swollen clitoris. Ambrosia had never looked so fine.

  He gently opened her further with his fingers, then licked the length of her cleft, savoring her juices before he began to circle and lap her quivering center with his tongue.

  “James,” she groaned hoarsely and gripped his head tightly with one hand, her hips swaying forwards, her thigh muscles quivering. He loved it that she was so wanton with him. That she let him have his wicked, wicked way. Even though she was panting raggedly, he recognized that she was not yet at her peak. And he was determined to fling her heavenward.

  He started to slide two of his fingers in and out of her in a calculated, merciless rhythm whilst he alternated quick, light tongue flicks with a deeper suckling at her core. She was almost there—hot liquid rushed around his tormenting fingers and he felt her rise up as her muscles clenched. And then she came on a heart-wrenching cry that was almost a sob. Her legs gave way and she collapsed into his arms, shuddering, shaking, moaning his name into his neck.

  He gathered her to him and held her until she’d recovered sufficiently enough to hold herself upright again. As she kissed his throat, he could feel that her face was wet with tears.

  “We haven’t finished yet, my angel,” he murmured into the disheveled mess of her hair. “Remember we have all night.”

  Don’t think about the fact that this may be the last time you get to do this. Any of this.

  * * * *

  Undone.

  That’s how Elizabeth felt. Completely and utterly.

  When James began to loosen her hair from whatever remained of the arrangement, aftershocks of pleasure were still rippling through her, at odds with the despair in her heart.

  But she couldn’t dwell on the fact that tonight would be full of ‘last times’ for them both. If she did, she would dissolve into a useless, blithering mess. James was right. They hadn’t finished. They both needed to enjoy what little time they had left together, whilst they still could.

  With a shuddering sigh, she lifted her head from his shoulder and placed her palms flat on the hard planes of his chest, the heavily muscled pectorals rising and falling with every ragged breath he took. He looked close to unraveling as well. This wouldn’t do.

  “I want you inside me,” she said, her voice husky with both tears and desire.

  He ran a thumb along her lower lip, his gaze searing her, making her sex throb anew. “My thoughts exactly, my love.”

  With shaking hands, she peeled off his already unbuttoned waistcoat, then helped him to pull off his shirt. Then gasped in horror. “James, you’re hurt more than I realized.” Her fingers ran lightly over the right side of his lean ribcage, tracing the ugly black and purple bruises that had obviously flowered there after his beating. A peculiar mixture of white-hot anger and anguish lanced through her at the thought of him being subjected to anything that would cause this much damage and pain. Pain he’d endured for her.

  “It’s nothing,” he said lifting her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Nothing will stop me from having you, Beth.” Then he dipped his head and kissed her with such focused intent, all coherent thought soon skittered away to be replaced again by fierce, aching need.

  Need that was not hers alone. James’s cock was like a rod of forged iron, insistently pushing against her. Blindly, with desperate trembling fingers, she attacked the buttons securing the fall of his breeches until he sprang free.

  Yes. She wrapped her hand around the throbbing, hot shaft of him and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening to volcanic black. A dark thrill shot through her.

  “How do you want me?” she murmured, running her thumb across the silken head where moisture already bloomed. The rich, heady scent of his arousal rose about them and she longed to take him in her mouth, but tonight, they couldn’t afford to waste his seed.

  “This way.” He rose to his feet, pulling her with him before he pushed her against the wall—she could feel the oak wainscoting digging into her lower back. She didn’t care. She wanted him to be rough, to obliterate everything else from her mind except for the reality of him, entering her. Taking her.

  “I’ve always wanted you this way. Lift your skirts with one hand. Then grab my shoulder with the other.” Before she knew what he was about—of all the positions they had tried, James had never shown her this—he grasped her about the waist with one arm, and under her behind with the other, then lifted her off her feet.

  “Wrap your legs about me,” he panted, and as soon as she did, he raised her higher until she could feel the head of his cock pushing against her slick entrance. Then with one smooth movement, he thrust upwards, until he had hilted himself fully inside her.

  She gasped. The sensation of his deep penetration took her breath away. She was impaled on him, crushed between his naked torso and powerful hips and the wall behind her.

  Then he began to move her. The bunched, rock-like muscles of his upper body flexed and rippled as he began to slide her up and down upon his iron-hard shaft. She gripped his wide shoul
ders already slick with sweat, her nails drawing blood. His black gaze drove into her as surely as his cock hammered in and out of her. Driving her higher and higher. Making her sheath clench tighter. Her breath saw raggedly.

  “Come for me, Beth.” His voice came out harsh and low, between gritted teeth. He was so close to the edge, she could feel it, his shaft began to swell and thicken within her. At last, he closed his burning eyes. Cried her name again.

  And then she crashed over the precipice with him, falling head-long with dizzying speed into bliss. Her body convulsed about him and she bit into his shoulder to stifle her hoarse cry of ecstasy. Such infinite pleasure.

  She would never forget this feeling for as long as she lived. She would take it into her, make it part of her. Not just a memory—it would be an imprint on her soul. Like her love for this man.

  “I love you, James,” she whispered. And then she wept.

  * * * *

  Much later, in the quietest, coldest hour of the night, just before dawn, Beth awoke from a light doze with a start. And then cursed herself inwardly for wasting precious moments of this night to sleep.

  In the soft darkness, she felt James kiss her temple. “It’s nearly dawn, my love.”

  “I know…”

  The candles had burnt low, and only a soft reddish glow emanated from the fire. The room was cold but she certainly wasn’t.

  She and James were naked, curled about each other in the four-poster bed, and Beth couldn’t—no didn’t—want to move a muscle. Not because she ached all over—which she most definitely did after having made love with James in just about every conceivable way—but because she didn’t want to lose this perfect, intimate contact with his warm, hard body.

  She pressed her lips to his collarbone and inhaled the exotic masculine scent that was all his own. She wanted to tell him so many things; the depth of her love for him; that even though she would never, ever forget him, he needed to forget her and move on and find happiness with someone else…

  All these words had already been spoken during the night. But she didn’t want to say them again because she just knew she would cry. And she didn’t want to spend their last hour together, weeping against him. There had been too many tears already.

  Perhaps she could just show him—all that he was to her—before they had to part. Forever.

  She kissed his neck again, in the place where his pulse beat hard and fast, then skimmed a hand lightly across his broad chest, down his lean, ridged torso, to his hip bone and flank. She felt his manhood twitch against her belly and despite her sorrow, she felt her lips curve into a smile. How bittersweet these last moments with James would be.

  She enclosed her hand around the hot, hard length of him, taking pleasure in the sound of him breathing her name on a deep groan. She wanted to do something, just for him, that didn’t have anything to do with pleasing her…or getting her with a child.

  She slid her mouth in a series of gentle, lingering kisses along the same path her hand had just travelled until she reached his swollen cock. It amazed her that even after all they had done, he was still so effortlessly aroused…The musk of their coupling was rich and heavy in the air around them, enticing her to take him—all of his delicious, tempting hardness into her mouth.

  And she did. She swirled her tongue around the silken, engorged head of his cock, savoring the salty taste of both their essences before she plunged her whole mouth down and around him as far as she could before withdrawing, back up to the tip again; down and up, down and up, her mouth mimicking the suck and slide of their earlier couplings.

  James hand was splayed over her head, his fingers gripping tighter and tighter. Then all of a sudden, he grasped her face between his hands and stilled her movements.

  “Beth…”

  What was wrong? She lifted her head, but before she could speak, he sat up then kissed her, deeply, tenderly. Heartbreakingly.

  When he pulled away, she could only just make out the intent, harrowed expression on his face. “Beth…I want you with me…this time.” The words were left unspoken…Our last time.

  He sat up, pulling her with him before he grasped her gently about the hips and positioned her so she was straddling him. She sucked in a breath as she felt the delicious, teasing pressure of the head of his cock nudging between her folds, pushing at her already drenched entrance. The wanting within her was suddenly so strong, she couldn’t wait for James to enter her. With a great shuddering gasp, she slid downwards, engulfed the whole steely length of him, all the way down to the very base of his cock. He filled her so completely, so deeply, it took her breath away.

  James groaned then suddenly pressed his teeth against the sensitive tendon at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sending a sharp blast of pleasure through her. She gasped again, panting hard as her inner muscles quivered and clenched around him—and willed herself not to climax too soon. She didn’t want this to be over in a short, sharp blinding moment. She had to make this last for both of them.

  Attuned to her verging crisis, James raised his head and kissed her gently, his hands cupping her face as his thumbs stroked along her jawline. She whimpered and parted her lips for him, her tongue caressing his as she fought for control.

  “Slowly, my love,” he whispered into her mouth as his hands slid from her face, skated lightly down her arms to her breasts. He then expertly flicked his thumbs backwards and forwards across her already peaked, throbbing nipples, sending another volley of sparks, straight to her trembling loins.

  Like her, he was breathing harshly now, his expression strained. “I want you too much this way,” he grated out. “Forgive me, Beth.”

  * * * *

  Before she could respond, Rothsburgh tipped Beth back onto the bed, covering her with his body. Although it cost him dear—his balls throbbed like hell—he remained motionless, suspended on the edge of a sacred-like moment, as his gaze locked with Beth’s. Memorizing her. Her remarkable grey eyes were so solemn, so filled with love. It was killing him to let her go back to her husband to play nursemaid, to be nothing but a broodmare.

  And what hurt the most at this particular moment, was that he knew she was putting on a brave face for him—that inside she was falling apart just as much as he was. But before they were carried away on passion’s sure tide again, he had to let her know something.

  He dragged in a breath then spoke with deliberate softness. “I will love you, Beth, until the end of my days. And although you don’t want me to, I will wait for you. Nothing you can say will convince me to give you up.”

  “James…” She reached up and stroked his face. “You can’t—”

  “Yes. I can.” Ruthless man that he was, he would not listen to any further protests. It didn’t matter what she said. He lowered his head and kissed her as tenderly, as reverently as he could, his tongue gently sweeping into her mouth, his lips sliding with intentional, tantalizing slowness. A tribute to their love.

  She moaned into him, a small sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, as her hands came up to caress his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Then her hips suddenly tilted and she cradled him, wrapped her legs about him. And he penetrated deeper. So deep. It was like he connected with her very soul.

  “James…” Her voice was a desperate plea and she rocked her hips. As much as his heart longed to stay in this moment, his body couldn’t resist her blatant invitation to move any longer.

  But he would make this last. As long as he possibly could. He began a relentless, agonizingly slow rhythm, holding her gaze, loving her with his eyes just as much as loving her with his body. Retreating and returning with long, deliberate strokes within her tight, clutching passage. Relishing all the small sounds she made—the sighs and pants; cataloguing every expression that crossed her face in these last shared minutes.

  But as surely as the sun was rising beyond this room, he couldn’t sustain this exquisitely restrained pace. The inexorable pull of sexual bliss drove him to plunge harder and faster,
steadily escalating the tension, spiraling them both higher and higher towards the zenith they both sought. Together.

  And then Beth cried out, her fingernails clawing him, her sheath gripping him in a spasm so tight, so uncompromising, he had no hope of holding back. With an almighty, shuddering groan, he let go and joined her, his world exploding into blazing rapture; like a comet burning through the heavens. Bright, perfect, heavenly fire, consumed him, suffused him, like his love for this woman.

  My love forever. My Beth.

  He collapsed onto her, then rolled and gathered her to him, skin to skin, heart to heart. Waiting for the knock on the door that would end these last moments in paradise.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her sweet-smelling hair.

  And then the summons came.

  * * * *

  “Lady Beauchamp, ye have ten more minutes until this door is unlocked.”

  Elizabeth lifted her head from James’s shoulder and reluctantly pulled away. James was breathing heavily, still overcome from their exertions. His dark brown gaze, glowing with satisfaction and love, rested upon her face. Oh my.

  She didn’t trust herself to speak so she just looked at him, and traced the outline of his chiseled lips and his stubbled jaw, his nose and brows with trembling fingertips. Such strength and beauty. This is how I will remember him whenever I close my eyes.

  “We must get dressed, my sweet angel,” he murmured softly before turning his face a little to feather a light kiss upon her wrist.