by Diana Quincy
“I am not asking for forever. I know who you are. All I ask for is this moment.”
He stared into her beautiful blue eyes. She was perfection.
“Very well then.” He lifted her onto the table.
“What are you doing?” she asked, breathless.
“I seem to recall saying something about having you writhing on this table while I feasted on you.”
And as he bent to trail kisses along her belly, he was overcome with the realization that making love with Finch was as dazzling as touching the moon.
And possibly as eternal.
* * *
—
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve fantasized about taking you here.” Sunny’s mouth closed over Isabel’s sensitive breast, his tongue playing with her nipple with long indulgent licks and short impatient flicks, delivering pleasure that cut through Isabel like a razor.
As he mouthed one breast, Sunny’s hand closed over her other breast, his thumb rolling expertly over the nipple. Isabel cradled his head in her arms as he worshipped her flesh, opening herself up to sensations that she’d denied herself for so long.
He moved upward, capturing her mouth, kissing her fully, twining his tongue with hers. She ached to feel his skin, to have it pressed against hers.
She pulled his linen shirt out of his breeches and up over his head. “I want this off.”
He lifted his arms, breaking contact with her lips just long enough to allow the cloth to go over his head. “Do as you please,” he murmured before taking her lips in another devouring kiss.
She ran her hands up the broad expanse of his bare back, surprised by the muscular strength she found there. She pulled back, eager to take in the landscape of his body. There was no fat at his belly, just corded strength, and the beauty of skin, bone, and muscle. She ran her hands over his abdomen, sliding them up over his firm pectorals.
“I rather think your hands are moving in the wrong direction,” he murmured.
She slid her fingers over his athletic biceps. “You are so beautiful.”
He made an amused sound. “You needn’t seem so surprised.”
“But I am.” She ran her hands over his shoulders. “When did this happen?”
He bent to kiss her neck. “Prudie pointed out that I had run to fat, and Vale and Dunsmore were quick to agree. I’ve devoted myself to regaining my Corinthian figure.”
She caressed his warm biceps. “You’ve done a magnificent job of it.”
His hands closed around her bottom, squeezing as he moved her to the edge of the table.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Preparing to feast on you.” He nibbled on her lower lip. “As promised.”
She didn’t understand what he meant by that until he pulled up a chair and lowered himself into it. “Sunny?” she asked, vaguely alarmed.
“Adam. My name is Adam.”
“Adam then. What are you doing?” The last part of that sentence ended in a squeak when he pulled her toward him and set his lips to her most intimate place.
“I’m pleasuring you, Finch. Lie back and enjoy it.”
She was about to protest—this was nothing she’d experienced before—but then his tongue was delving between her folds and she could do nothing but make inarticulate sounds as he flicked his tongue into shocking places. She felt his finger too, moving quickly inside her and then pulling out, while he sucked a supremely sensitive place that sent rivulets of pleasure streaming everywhere in her body.
She lay against the cold hard mahogany table surface, writhing, unable to withstand the building pressure but also desperate not to be deprived of it. She gripped the table’s edge, holding tightly to her composure, supersensitive to every sensation, the motion of his tongue and movement of his fingers, the cool air against her exposed skin, afraid she’d break into a million pieces if she let herself go.
“Come on, my love,” he encouraged. “I want to hear you scream my name when you come.”
She shook her head, desperate and on edge, the pent-up pressure close to bursting. “I cannot. The servants will hear.”
“They’ve heard worse.” He sucked harder and then more lightly, circling his tongue around the exquisite bundle of nerves, teasing her, before putting his mouth on her again. And then she broke, everything crashed inside of her and she let go into a beautiful release that shook through her in pulsating waves. Somehow his mouth was on hers when she cried out his name, smothering the sound from those who might be listening beyond these walls.
He unbuttoned his pantaloons and freed himself, entering her in one fast hard stroke. She moved with him, eager for him to enjoy his release after the gift he had just given her. He filled her completely, working in and out of her in long, sure strokes, his sculpted face a picture of intense concentration. She kissed him, stroking his tongue with hers as they made love. She could feel the rising tension in his body that told her his release was coming.
To Isabel’s shock, the tension began to build in her again as well. She’d thought that first time with Adam, when she’d reached her peak while in the act, had been a one-time occurrence. Suddenly she was making those inarticulate noises that tore from her throat when she neared her completion.
“Come again.” His voice was warm and demanding in her ear. “I want to feel it.”
It was as if her body was a slave to Adam’s commands. Her muscles spasmed and intense pleasure broke over her, her channel throbbing as he filled her.
“Oh, Isabel.” He stilled and broke with a hard shudder, releasing himself into her.
She held on to him, savoring the comfortable warmth, thinking how strange it was that this did not feel fleeting. That holding him in her arms felt like forever.
Chapter 23
He came to her that evening.
Adam appeared in the nursery and stood there on the threshold, as if unsure of what to do next. She wasn’t surprised to see him. She supposed a part of her had been waiting for him. She rose from her bed with a glance at the twins, who were sound asleep in their bed.
“You can tell me to leave,” he said.
“Don’t leave.” She reached up to kiss him before taking his hand and leading him to the governess’s room, a chamber she’d never used.
“No, not here,” he said. “Come.”
She went willingly, her heart so full it hurt. Isabel knew what the sensation meant. Somehow, she’d allowed herself to fall deeply and irrecoverably in love with a rake. She’d stepped into a situation that was certain to end in despair—at least for her. And the thing of it was that she’d gone into this affair with her eyes wide open and did not regret a moment of it. If eventual agony was the price she must pay for these stolen moments of bliss—for feeling that she was alive again after so long—then she would willingly accept the consequences.
He led her to his bedchamber, an enormous room with perhaps the most magnificent bed she’d ever seen. The bedclothes were rumpled, as if he’d had a restless sleep. Tiny silver spangles sewn into the crimson bed hangings sparkled whenever they caught the candlelight.
Isabel’s stomach tightened and she halted. He turned to her. “Have you changed your mind?”
She shook her head. “Just not here.” She knew he wasn’t hers alone. But she did not want to make love with him in the same bed where he’d cavorted with many women.
Adam seemed to understand. “I have never brought a woman here before. This is my private chamber. You are the first person, besides my valet and the servants, that I have invited here.”
“Why?” she asked, both moved and dazed.
He cradled her face in his hands and touched his lips to hers. “Because you are like no other.”
She clasped his hand as he led her to bed. He dropped his silk banyan and she saw he wore nothing underneath. He was alre
ady aroused. The candlelight shimmered over the strong curves of his body, making him appear even more beautiful, if that were possible.
She pulled her own night rail up over her head and dropped it to the ground. He took her into his arms and as he held her, kissing her deeply as if she were the only woman in the world, Isabel suddenly couldn’t bear the idea of him with anyone else. She broke away.
He let her. “What is it?”
“I cannot bear to share you with other women.”
“Isabel—”
“No.” She placed a finger over his lips to keep him from speaking. “While we engage in this…liaison…I must have your word that you will not dally with other women. I realize that might be a great deal to ask of you—”
“It is not too much to ask.” He removed her finger from his lips and kissed it tenderly. “I have not been with another woman since the ball. I may be a scoundrel, but I can promise you complete fidelity during the course of our affair.”
Her heart squeezed at the thought of how she would feel when he tired of her and returned to his indolent lifestyle, but she pushed the dark thoughts from her mind as Adam lifted her and placed her in his bed.
He came down over her, his large frame pressing her into the soft mattress. Kissing her tenderly, he entered her and made love to her almost sweetly, moving slowly at first until their need built. As they reached their climax together, Isabel experienced a terrible pang in her heart. She could easily become accustomed to this, to being with Adam in this way, but she knew that was not to be.
* * *
—
Afterward, Adam lay on his side watching Isabel, who was on her back. He pulled the bedclothes down to her waist so he could touch her breasts. He loved her breasts. He loved being able to touch her this way, to be free with her. “Was I adequate?” he asked playfully.
“Braggart.” She stretched, her wild curls forming a halo on the pillow. “You are perfectly aware that you were more than adequate.”
“Well,” he conceded, “the way you screamed when you achieved your pleasure did give me a hint.”
She watched his hand toy with her nipple. “That has never happened with me before.”
His hand stilled. “Are you saying you’ve never experienced la petite mort before?”
“No, I have. My husband was very attentive.” Mention of her husband made Sunny want to spit, but he forced his expression to remain unchanged. “But it never happened during the act. With you, it seems to always happen.”
Quite pleased with himself again, Sunny bent to kiss her erect nipple. “And we’ve only just begun to explore each other.”
“Adam,” she said after a pause, “who is that woman who was visiting you in the playroom?”
“Who? Anne?” He ran his tongue over her nipple. “She’s one of my father’s many bastards.”
“She’s your sister?”
“Mmm hmm. I suppose you could refer to Anne as such. My half sister.”
“It’s nice that she visits you.”
“It’s more of a business concern.” He did not have a particular closeness with any of his father’s bastards. “I found out about her after my father died. She was teaching in a parish school. She wants to start her own academy for young ladies, and I am funding the enterprise. The academy building is currently being constructed.”
“Did your father not assist her?”
“My father did not acknowledge any of his bastards. Once he died, the ones I could find, I assisted with their education, or like with Anne, with business concerns.”
“That’s very good of you.”
“They are my father’s spawn. I merely saw to it that my father lived up to his responsibilities. His by-blows deserve at least a small piece of his fortune to set them on their way in life.”
Her eyes glistened as she stared at him. “You’re a much better man than you show the world.”
“The world be damned.” He pressed his lips to her pale shoulder. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m content.”
“I’ve clearly demonstrated that I’ll have you,” she said wryly. “Again and again.”
“I am a fortunate man.” He relished having her here in his bed, speaking with her and sharing their thoughts. He felt a strange closeness with her that he’d never experienced with anyone else before—certainly none of the many women he’d bedded. Normally, once the sex was over, he was done with a woman and politely took his leave of her. But with Isabel, he wanted to keep her close and learn everything there was to know about her.
“How old were you when your parents died?” he asked.
“I was nine. I felt so alone in the world.”
“You loved them?” The idea was alien to him.
“I did. Very much so. When I married Ben, I finally felt as if I was on solid ground again.”
He felt a stab of jealously in his gut. “You cared for your husband.”
“I did. But what was more important to me was to finally have a family again. We talked about having many children but then…” Her voice trailed off.
“He died and his family cast you out.”
“And I became Patience and Prudence’s governess about a year later.”
“What did you do in the interim?” He ran a hand over her smooth belly. “After your husband’s death and before you became a governess?”
She stiffened under his touch, pulling the sheet to cover herself and settling far enough away so that their bodies no longer touched.
He pulled her back to him. “Don’t you go anywhere.” He settled her body against his so that he was spooning her. “We don’t have to speak of it if you don’t wish.”
“It was a dark time. I barely survived it.” There was a tremor in her voice. “I do not like to remember it.”
He put his lips to her ear. “Then don’t,” he whispered. She turned to him and their lips met. He shifted to mount her again. With a soft exhale, she spread her thighs and pulled him closer. He moved over her, wanting nothing more than to help Isabel forget every terrible thing that had ever happened to her.
* * *
—
“Are you almost through here?” Sunny asked impatiently as he and Cosmo crossed the courtyard at Tattersall’s.
“She truly is a beauty.” Cosmo’s gaze followed a gray Thoroughbred being led through the yard. He’d had his eye on the animal since they’d arrived three-quarters of an hour ago. “I wonder if I should bid for him.”
Sunny checked the time on his fob. “Do as you wish, but pray do so quickly.”
“What’s your rush?” Cosmo tore his gaze away from the horseflesh. “Have a doxy waiting for you somewhere?”
“Hardly. I promised the children a picnic today.” He and Finch were taking the girls back to his plunge pool at Lyon House. They planned to stay at least one night. Sunny could hardly wait to get Isabel naked in the plunge pool this evening after Patience and Prudence were abed.
Cosmo made a skeptical sound in his throat. “You promised the children? Or is it their governess you want to spend time with?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“I saw the way you looked at Miss Finch when I picked you up today. It’s the way I used to look at Mari.”
That got Sunny’s attention. “Truly?”
Cosmo leaned back against one of the yard’s many Doric fluted columns. “And you’ve been nauseatingly cheerful and optimistic of late. If I were a betting man, and I am, I’d wager that you’re besotted.”
“How do you do it?” Sunny loved making love with Isabel. These past few weeks with her and the girls had been the happiest period of his life. He never wanted it to end. Yet he knew that it inevitably would. He was his father’s son after all. “How do you remain faithful to one woman?”
“I knew I couldn’t keep Mari with me if I b
edded other women. It was an easy choice.”
“You’ve been wed for…what is it…almost five years now. Haven’t you grown bored?”
“It’ll be six years in the spring. And no, if anything, what Mari and I have with our children has deepened into something richer than it was when we wed.” A mischievous glint entered his dark eyes. “Mind you, I still bed her every chance I get.”
If Sunny could envision being with one woman for the rest of his life, it would be Isabel. He hadn’t had an interest in another woman for months now. And he couldn’t seem to get enough of Isabel. They’d made love every day over the past month.
He took precautions to avoid any consequences of their lovemaking, although the idea of getting a child on her wasn’t entirely unappealing. But he would never saddle Isabel with a by-blow. He would never be like his father in that regard. Besides, he respected and admired Isabel far too much to place her in a predicament that would expose her to society’s censure.
However, as enchanted by Isabel as he was at the moment, he couldn’t envision never again bedding another woman. “Don’t you have the desire to swive other women?”
Cosmo shrugged. “I’m as randy as the next man, I suppose. And I still appreciate a beautiful woman. But once I was wed, I never allowed my thoughts to stray in that direction. And to be perfectly frank, it has not been a hardship. Sex with a woman you care deeply for is infinitely better than swiving dozens of strumpets.”
That, Sunny could understand. Making love with Isabel was certainly far superior to any of his previous carnal experiences. “Perhaps the ability to be faithful is in your blood,” he reasoned. “Aldridge’s devotion to your mother was well known.”
“Balderdash. It isn’t as if you are condemned to live a life of debauchery just because you are your father’s son. You are nothing like the old goat. Excuse the insult.”
“None taken. I’ve certainly called my father worse.”
“You don’t bed servants or force unwilling women. And you take better care of his bastards than he ever did.” He studied Sunny. “Do not let your father’s sins rob you of the future you deserve.”