Romancing Lady Stone (A School of Gallantry Novella)

by Delilah Marvelle

  It came too soon.

  She cried out and her body trembled in an explosive release that penetrated more than her body. It penetrated her soul.

  His moist, hot mouth descended onto hers again, muffling her cry as his hand jumped out from between them. Gripping her waist tightly, he pulled her against himself one last time until he gasped against her mouth and tensed. He pulled out of her wetness and seething out a savage breath against the curve of her throat which he had buried himself into, she could feel him jerking and jerking his hand faster against his cock in the darkness.

  He groaned into her. She felt that groan graze every inch of her as his seed spilled all over her inner thighs. He groaned again and she could feel him spilling more. He seethed out another breath and smeared the wet warmth of his seed against her skin with the length of his cock.

  He collapsed against her and buried his head once again into the curve of her throat. Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed her tightly against himself as if he didn’t intend to ever let go. “You are so beautiful.”

  She tightened her own hold on him. How was it a complete stranger had shown her more passion and more desire than her own husband had in the fourteen years she had been married?

  Konstantin lifted his head. “Cecilia,” he whispered hoarsely, his chest heaving.

  “Yes?” she whispered back.

  A breath escaped him. He kissed her forehead softly and brought her closer, tucking her against that solid chest. “Words elude me.”

  She clung to him, the intake of his breath and her own pulse drumming in unison beneath her fingers. “They elude me, too.”

  He rolled her with him, so he lay on his back and settled against the pillow, adjusting them so they could better fit on the narrow bed. “Are you comfortable?” he murmured into her hair.

  “Yes, Mr. Levin, I am,” she murmured back.

  He gently tapped her bare skin. “No more Mr. Levin. You and I are lovers. That means you are Cecilia and I am Konstantin. Do you understand?”

  None of this was real. How could it be? They had just met. “Yes. I understand.”

  Whatever was happening between them, whatever she had allowed for, didn’t feel wrong. It felt beautiful. He felt beautiful. She nestled her cheek against his chest, refusing to think about anything but him. This was her time. Her girls were nowhere in sight and the ton were far, far away in another country well across an ocean and could not judge her. This was between her and what she wanted as a woman.

  This was better than Paris.

  Late morning

  Konstantin opened his eyes and paused. The back of Cecilia’s tousled, dark head was tucked below his chin and her smooth, naked warmth was spread across the length of his own nakedness. What had happened between them was real.

  His throat tightened. Lifting his head, he glanced down at her. She continued to sleep, her breath coming in soft, even takes. Her full lips were parted and her pale face looked so beautiful and at peace. The linens were pulled around their entangled bodies.

  It was the first time he’d ever slept in the arms of a woman for a full night.

  She felt like home.

  He slowly dragged the linens away from her body and gently folded it down over her hip so he could look at her in a way he hadn’t been able to at night.

  Full, white breasts greeted him. Visible marks puckered her pale stomach from the stretching of each child she had carried. It didn’t make her any less beautiful. It made her everything she was. He slid his hand down that stomach, reveling in her warmth and softness. Tightening his jaw, he slid his fingers down to the short, curling black hairs between her thighs.

  She startled and grabbed his hand hard, her chest rising and falling. “You scared me.”

  “Forgive me.” He leaned toward her lips and kissed them, shoving aside the linens. “Did you sleep well, dorogaya moya?” He slid his hand in between her thighs. Pushing his finger deep into her, his cock hardened. Using her wetness, he slowly flicked his finger upward toward that nub. “I want you again.”

  Her lips parted as she watched his hand in between escalating breaths. She grabbed his thigh hard and held him in place against her backside.

  He flicked her faster and ground his erection into her again and again until she was gasping. He withdrew his finger from her wetness and sat up, leaning against the headboard behind them. Dragging her up and onto his lap, so she faced him, he sat her up. “If only every morning were as bright as this one,” he murmured up at her. “How are you, beautiful?”

  She smiled shyly. “I am still in disbelief.”

  “You are not the only one.” He wrapped her legs around his naked waist and cupped her face with both hands, letting her dark brown hair cascade down over her bare shoulders and onto her breasts.

  He held her gaze, wanting to believe that the reason they were doing this was because they not only wanted each other but needed each other.

  She wordlessly lowered herself onto his cock and slid down onto his length.

  He bit back a shudder and tightened his hold on her beautiful face, letting her take over. He traced the tip of his tongue across the curve of her chin, dragging it to her lips.

  She slipped her hands onto his shoulders and slowly rode him.

  He rolled up and into her, digging his fingers into her thick hair. He let his one hand trail down to her breasts and held up one. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue over its slope and in toward the nipple until it hardened.

  She threw back her head, arching toward him and rode him steadily faster. Tightening her long legs around him, she ground down again and again and again, making it harder for him to breathe through the stirring, building sensations. Pleasure rippled through his core and his body and his cock, tensing all of his muscles.

  Pushing away her hair, he grabbed the back of her neck and buried his head into the soft curve of her throat, determined to leave his mark on her body. He sucked on the skin of her throat hard, pulling the skin in past his teeth.

  She gasped. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she rode him.

  Holding her waist, he gritted his teeth and jerked her down harder, wanting to go as deep as her womb would allow.

  She cried out and rocked against him, her body quaking.

  He couldn’t hold it, either. He spilled into her wetness.

  Konstantin choked and pulled out. Still shuddering, he finished spilling his seed all over her stomach, his cock pulsing and his core tightening.

  He yelled out.

  In between ragged breaths, Konstantin wrapped his arms around her. He had to learn how to better control himself around her. Burying himself in the softness of her skin, he confessed in complete exasperation, “I spilled some of my seed into you.”

  Her head popped up from his chest, her hair wildly crossing the side of her face. “How much is some?” she demanded.

  A nervous laugh escaped him. “Not enough to make me panic. We should be fine.”

  She adjusted the linens over herself and shook her head. “This is so unlike anything I have ever done with my life. I am usually very…sensible. I pride myself for my being respectable. I am respectable.”

  He smiled and tilted his head so as to better see her face, trying to decipher if she was pleased with the statement or not. “Do you have any regrets?”

  A breath escaped her lips. “In truth, I have less regrets about this than I did when I married my husband.”

  His brows went up. “Was I that good? Or was I that bad?”

  A laugh escaped her. “I only knew my husband for a week before I married him by special license.”

  He let out a low whistle. “And I thought we waltzed past introductions quickly.”

  She winced. “I was young and didn’t want to marry my cousin who was practically banging on my door. Everyone expected me to marry him. But I wanted a respectable man. One who could provide me and my parents with the financial lifestyle we never had separate from the Gunther family. Given my hu
sband’s popularity, when he asked me to marry him by special license shortly after we met, I panicked and gave in. I knew nothing about men.” She huffed out a breath. “I still don’t.”

  He smirked. “Why do I feel this conversation has returned to me?”

  She shoved at him playfully.

  He nudged her playfully back. “Are you hungry?”

  “Beyond famished.”

  “Good. I will get dressed.” He pointed at her. “I ask that you stay in bed. I doubt your clothes are dry anyway.” He tipped himself out of bed, landing on the floor and paused, realizing he’d never shared a morning meal with a woman after a night of sex. Knowing it, he turned, leaned down and quickly kissed her on the lips. For good measure. “I will be back.” He dressed and in between the final straightening of his appearance and the buttoning of his waistcoat, he glanced toward her, sensing she was watching him.

  Those dark sultry eyes met his. She gushed into a smile.

  It was a smile he had waited his whole life to see. It was a smile that promised him anything he wanted despite who he was. “I blame you for this,” he said, pointing at her. “You seduced me.”

  She quirked a brow. “I did no such thing.”

  “So says the lady who insisted I climb into her bed.” He smirked and grabbing up his pocket watch, tossed it to her, letting it land on the bed beside her bare foot. “Keep it safe whilst I am gone. God forbid it fall behind another chair.”

  She laughed, sat up and dragged it toward herself.

  “Should I try to get your garter back from our neighbor?” he added.

  She rolled her eyes. “Let him keep it. Heaven knows where it has been.”

  “Lucky bastard. How is it he gets a garter and I do not? I want one.”

  She tsked. “Will you feed me already?”

  His mouth quirked.

  A half hour later, he returned to the room with a massive wooden bowl filled to the rim with stew and two wooden spoons shoved into it. He closed the door after himself and locked the door. Turning back to her, he announced, “They did not have much.”

  “You make it sound like a terrible thing,” she chided. “As hungry as I am, I will eat anything.”

  He paused.

  She lay on her stomach, leisurely naked, opening and closing the silver casing to his watch with slim fingers. She smiled, brushing away long, unbound hair from the side of her face and adjusted the linens over her waist.

  It was like walking in on a woman he had been married to for years.

  His chest tightened. This would never last. How could it? She was an aristocrat with four children and he was a reformed criminal. He shoved the thought aside, refusing to think about it.

  He strode toward her and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, setting the bowl beside her. “Tell me what you think.” He prayed the food was half-decent.

  She sat up, dragging the linens to cover her breasts. Dipping the wooden spoon into the stew, she leaned over and daintily scooped it up toward herself. Her lips closed around a mouthful before sliding the spoon back out. A muffled groan escaped her as she half-closed her eyes. “’Tis divine,” she murmured. She hastily scooped up another heaping spoon. And another. And another.

  He was glad she approved. Because after counting out what he could afford, knowing that they were leaving to Saint Petersburg tomorrow, he only had enough to purchase another meal and two tankards of ale. If they were lucky.

  Even though he was hungry beyond breath, Konstantin nudged the bowl closer to her. “When you are done, I will eat whatever is left.”

  She paused in between another mouthful, then swallowed and lowered the spoon quickly back into the stew, leaving it. “Forgive me.” She slid the lone bowl back to him, licking her lips. “You should eat.”

  She was such an angel to him. He smiled and slid the bowl back toward her. “No. I am fine. Finish as much as you can.”

  “After you have some.”

  He shifted against the bed they sat on, knowing full well it was the only bowl they would have until evening. “I am not hungry.”

  “Are we back to arguing about the chair?” She pursed her lips, took up the other spoon and scooping up a heap full of vegetables and meat, held it out to him. “Open your mouth.”

  Now he felt like he was two. Why did he have to like her? “I will eat after you finish half the bowl. Agreed?”

  “No. Not agreed. By then it will be too cold for you to enjoy,” she pertly returned, still holding out the spoon. “Now eat.”

  “You barely had a few bites.”

  “Whilst you had none.” She held the spoon closer to his mouth. “Do it knowing I want this for you more than anything in the world. Knowing I want you big and strong so you can rescue me from more garter stealing thieves. Pleeeeease?”

  He sighed. This woman was going to take over his entire life. He leaned in and pulled the offering into his mouth. The savory, thick saltiness of chewy meat, potatoes and peas made him melt and half-nod in appreciation. “That is good,” he said in between chews.

  She grinned, a dimple appearing on her left cheek and quickly re-immersed the spoon into the bowl, filling it again. She held it out, her dark eyes brightly searching his face. “More?”

  He held her gaze, glimpsing what she might have been like at twenty. Bright-eyed, ambitious, kind and daring despite her station in life. She was going to make him kneel to her. Never mind the Midnight Bane, she was going to make it impossible for him to walk away from whatever was happening between them. He could feel it in his chest. It was something he’d never felt in the presence of a woman.

  He slowly took the spoon from her hand and returned it to the bowl. He tugged her fingers loose from it. “Kiss me.”

  She paused.

  He leaned in. Brushing aside her long hair from her bare shoulder, his fingers skimmed the softness of her skin. “What is happening between you and me?” he whispered. “Is this even real?”

  Her lips parted. “It feels real,” she whispered back. “I want it to be real.”

  He heatedly searched those dark eyes. “Good. So do I.” He gently captured her lips, giving into the idea that this could be the beginning of something incredibly special.

  Too special to even try to name.

  Evening

  They had only left the room twice throughout the day. Once to share another meal and a tankard of ale at one of the wooden tables downstairs and the other time to soak in the bathhouse together, where they washed each other’s hair and lathered each other in soap in between ardent kisses and sex. The remainder of the day, they lounged in each other’s arms and talked like friends of old, discussing their childhoods, and how life had not exactly turned out the way they had hoped. They laughed at the words Cecilia couldn’t pronounce in Russian as Konstantin playfully traced Russian words onto her bare legs. They also made love. Repeatedly.

  Getting robbed was the best thing to have ever happened to her.

  Cecilia nestled against Konstantin’s nude warmth as she watched the last of the light fade from the lantern with the curling of smoke, leaving them in complete darkness. Tomorrow evening, when they arrived into Saint Petersburg and called upon the theatre for her son’s address, everything she had shared with Konstantin would shimmer away into a dream. She would have to return to being what she really was: a titled lady and a mother.

  It wasn’t fair. For the first time in her life, she wished she hadn’t been born a lady.

  Konstantin brushed a finger across her arm in the darkness. “After we find your son, I will not be able to stay in Saint Petersburg. I have to leave for London.”

  She swallowed against the tightness overtaking her throat. Even he knew their time together was at an end. Although a part of her ached, she had to cease pretending she was an ordinary woman. She wasn’t. She had a duty to her title, the estate, to her daughters and to her son and all of their respectable names. What she wanted did not exist in the realm of the ton. It never had and it never would.
She had known that since she was fifteen.

  He smoothed her hair away from her throat. “I would like to see you again in London. As soon as you return from Russia. Is that possible?”

  She paused, her heart pounding. “You want us to continue this?” she whispered against him in disbelief. How could they?

  “Of course I want to. I…” He paused. “Are you telling me you are no longer interested?”

  She pressed her cheek harder against his chest, cherishing how genuinely distraught he sounded. Maybe this didn’t have to end. Maybe they could quietly meet on the outskirts of London from time to time. No one needed to know. Men of the ton did it all the time. What made them special? She wanted him. She wanted this. He made her feel beautiful. He himself was beautiful. “We will find a way to see each other. I promise.”

  A smile appeared in his voice. “Good.”

  In the darkness, between her own pulse and his, the words ‘Eternally yours at midnight’ popped into her head. She sat up against him in the darkness. “I forgot to ask. Your watch mentions the hour of midnight on the casing. Is there a story behind it?”

  He shifted her body better against his own. “The watch belonged to my father. It was given to him by a woman he was supposed to have married. Unfortunately, she died before that happened.”

  Her stomach dropped to her knees. “I’m so sorry to hear it.”

  “Her name was Miss Bane.”

  “She was English?”

  “Yes. My father’s family thought her beneath his status, given he was the son of a well-known merchant, but he always financially struggled. Miss Bane was a governess from London, visiting her brother in Russia when my father met her at a festival. She was older than my father by about ten years. Much like…” He stilled, his fingers suddenly digging into her skin.

  She swallowed. He didn’t have to finish. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She blinked up at him, making out the shadowed outline of his face. “Surely, it is a haunting coincidence.”

  He hesitated. “I do not believe in coincidence.”

  Curious, she set her chin on his chest and ventured to ask, “What do you believe in?”