At first he bound her against his body, assaulting her with his lips. But even as she stiffened in resistance his touch gentled and his mouth turned coaxing. Every sense responded while a little voice in her brain whispered that here she belonged, in his arms, exulting in his hardness and strength. With a sigh, she relaxed against him and opened her lips, inviting his tongue.
He took full advantage, exploring the soft depths of her mouth, nipping, stroking and teasing her tongue while his arms wrapped around her and his hands caressed her back. She raised her hands in turn to clutch him, her nails biting into his shoulders, desire turning her molten and aching, sparking a response in every nerve.
She might have gone on kissing him for ever, but some mindless time later he turned his head away, cradling her on his chest where his heartbeat thundered in her ear. Then, setting her away from him, he said harshly, ‘Don’t ever try to deny what we might share.’
He pivoted and walked out, leaving her gazing after him, her heart still racing. In a fog, she stumbled to the sofa and sat down heavily.
Once again he’d kissed her nearly senseless and then left her. More than that, before distracting her with those mind-numbing kisses, he had called her what—a coward?
Shaken and trembling, Meredyth felt her anger revive. How dared Allen Mansfell judge her life and brand her a coward for not embracing the challenge he offered? What could he, a mere man, know about the risks a woman took by granting her hand in marriage?
He did not lose ownership of all his worldly goods. He did not give all power over his body to someone who could beat or even kill him without risk of prosecution. He did not suffer the danger of childbirth, or chance being left alone to care for his offspring while a spouse idled elsewhere—or risk having them taken away if their father chose to do so.
But as her initial indignation faded she found herself troubled. Could there be some truth in his accusations? Was she a coward, holding on to a past she’d burnished to unrealistic perfection in order to avoid risking her heart and her happiness again?
What if she abandoned caution and poured all her hope and passion into making a life with him? Liking him, desiring him as she did, she suspected she might easily fall in love; indeed, she was more than half in love with him already.
But there was no guarantee he would become similarly enraptured with her. Perhaps the pain of losing the lady he’d adored was still too raw for him to admit the possibility of finding such rapture again. But what if she accepted him and he did later meet such a lady? Would he not soon resent the wife he had so precipitately wed?
She knew she was not capable of turning a blind eye to her husband’s indiscretions. If Allen Mansfell did not come to love her too much to be tempted by another lady, with her mama’s unhappy example to caution her the chance that a union begun so hopefully could sour into anger, hurt and bitterness was still high—unacceptably high.
If that made her a coward, so be it.
At least he’d agreed to cease his unsettling attentions. Angry as he’d been, she didn’t think he’d change his mind about renewing them in the two days remaining before he left. When, praise heaven, she could find peace again.
Of course during the upcoming Season they would inevitably meet again. She could only hope that before that happened he would have begun courting another suitable matrimonial candidate, ensuring that the strong connection still sizzling between them did not prompt him to renew his attentions.
Because if he should…the mere thought of kissing him again made her dizzy with want and need. After the little interlude they’d just shared she could no longer pretend to be indifferent. He’d seen how easy it would be to disarm her with talk of friendship and then use his physical appeal to lure her near, and so befuddle her mind that should he propose again she might well accept him, whether he’d come to love her or not.
If he should entice her with passion again, how would she find the strength to resist him?
An idea flashed into her brain, so outrageous and impossible she tried to immediately reject it. But sneaky, insidious, it refused to be banished.
There was a way she could satisfy her desires and savour all the delights she now regretted she’d refrained from experiencing with James. Afterwards, Allen Mansfell would never again be able to call her a coward, unwilling to seize what she wanted, or think of her as a genteel, biddable spinster willing to settle for mild affection and bland mutual respect.
No, if she travelled this path she would so shock and disconcert Allen Mansfell that he would strike her name permanently from his list of proper matrimonial prospects.
And never tempt her again.
Not that this scandalous plan wasn’t risky, but she was no longer a penniless young girl. Mistress of her own household, answering to no one, she possessed the means and resources to discreetly cope with any eventuality.
She would do it, she decided. Tomorrow, before he left Wellingford, she would seduce Allen Mansfell.
Chapter Nine
After the scene over the kissing ball, her sisters were too discreet to press her for more than the carefully rehearsed explanation she offered upon her return. Also, to her relief, Allen Mansfell took himself off to hunt with Thomas and Colton, not returning until dinner, during which he maintained a scrupulous politeness before excusing himself immediately after. The rest of the company also retired early, allowing Meredyth to seek the solitude of her own chamber.
Though she determinedly closed her eyes, vivid imagination kept her senses simmering. Torn between a reckless eagerness to proceed and the more prudent hope that Allen Mansfell would rebuff her, Meredyth ended up hardly sleeping the night before her disturbing guest’s last full day at Wellingford.
She rose early and breakfasted before the rest of the family. Fortunately, with the arrival of her sisters Cecily and Emma due the day the Mansfell brothers departed, she had a long list of preparations to distract her and make the hours pass more quickly.
Those duties also kept her away from company until she joined everyone for nuncheon. The air sizzled with tension the moment she walked in, conversation faltering as everyone looked from her to Allen Mansfell. That gentleman sent her a glance that scorched her eyelashes before turning back to resume his chat with Lord Englemere.
During the meal that followed, her stomach churning at the prospect of what was to come, Meredyth did little more than push food around her plate. Afterwards, as the others walked out, she fixed a smile on her lips and intercepted Allen Mansfell.
Motioning him to follow, she walked to the windows overlooking the garden, away from the other guests.
‘Mr Mansfell, I should not wish us to part on bitter terms. Will you allow me to apologise? I should be very pleased to have you accompany me to the Dower House this afternoon. The renovations are nearly complete, and I believe you would find it interesting to inspect them.’
For a long moment while she held her breath he studied her in silence. Despite her nervousness, just being the subject of that intense green-eyed stare sent a flame of desire sparking through her.
Finally he nodded. ‘Yes, I should like to see your vision one last time.’
Had he imbued that phrase with more than casual meaning? she wondered. If her plan succeeded, he was going to see a great deal more of her…enough to satisfy him and then drive him away for ever.
Setting a time to meet, already light-headed with both dread and anticipation, she went up to her chamber to prepare herself for what might well be the most momentous afternoon of her life.
Conversation was limited on their ride to the Dower House—she too tied up with nerves to be able to manage any, he apparently lost in thought. But when he helped down from the saddle, and she leaned forward to brush her torso against his chest, the sudden clenching of his fingers on her waist told her that despite the disagreement between them he was still as affected by her nearness as she was by his, giving her some reassurance that he might not humiliatingly refuse her.
As they entered the deserted dwelling her heart commenced thrumming in her chest and her stomach turned even queasier, but she steeled herself keep to her plan: trailing her finger down his sleeve after he released her arm. Halting close beside him as she showed him the converted fireplaces, almost but not quite touching him. Pausing before she spoke to draw the tip of her tongue out to moisten her lips.
She felt a surge of excitement and satisfaction as she saw his gaze riveted on her mouth.
By the time they’d finished touring the downstairs rooms she wasn’t sure how he felt, but she was on fire with eagerness to kiss him. ‘If you’ll follow me upstairs, I’ll show you the new gas lamps.’
Upstairs—where the bedchambers were situated. Though he raised an eyebrow, he nodded assent and took her arm. Heart pounding in earnest now, she led him into one, its renovations complete though its furnishing were still cloaked under Holland covers. After pointing out the gas lamp, her fingers trembling with impatience and dread, she pushed her cloak back over her shoulders and turned to face him, feeling her breasts swell in the low-cut gown she’d chosen.
As Bella had predicted—blast the little flirt—his gaze dropped immediately to her bodice.
His smouldering green eyes rose to meet hers. ‘Just what do you think you are doing?’
She took a deep breath, making her bosom strain against the confining cloth. ‘What do you think I’m doing?’
His gaze returning to her breasts, he drew in a sharp breath before replying, ‘Since you think I’ve insulted you already, I hardly dare say it.’
‘And if I were doing what you hardly dare say?’
‘As a gentleman, I ought to escort you back to the Hall before something…improper happens.’
‘Do the proper thing? The safe thing?’ she taunted. ‘And you called me a coward.’ She stepped closer and angled her face up, brazenly offering him her lips.
For a moment he hesitated, the heat in his eyes like to scald her face. ‘I’m a gentleman, not an idiot,’ he muttered and seized her, his fingers biting into the soft skin of her shoulders as he pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her with hungry fury, just as he had outside the dining room. She kissed him back as fiercely, revelling in the feel of his tongue invading her mouth, pursuing it with her own.
He groaned, his kiss becoming more voracious still. His hands rose to the exposed tops of her breasts, stroking over them and cupping them. His thumbs sought her stiffened nipples, circled and flicked them, each caress sending a sharp current of need blazing to her centre. Moaning, she pressed herself against the hardness in his breeches.
He broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes wild and unfocused. ‘This is madness,’ he gasped. ‘We must stop now, while I still can.’
She put her hands over his and pressed his thumbs back against her nipples. ‘Don’t stop,’ she whispered, and drew his head back down, invading his mouth and suckling his tongue.
After several marvellous moments he broke the kiss again, his breathing shallow and rapid. ‘You’re sure?’
Daringly she moved a hand down to caress the tented front of his breeches. ‘I’m sure,’ she breathed.
He gave her a wolfish grin. ‘As my lady wishes.’
He tilted her head and kissed her again—deep, then shallow, then deeply again, before he moved his mouth to nip and suck her lips. He bound her against him, dizzy and faint with pleasure, his mouth nuzzling her eyelids, her chin, drawing in the shell of her ear and nibbling delicately. While his lips worked wonders he insinuated his fingertips under the material of her light stays until they found her nipples.
She gasped and shuddered, almost fainting at the intensity of the sensation. Excitement pulsed in her chest as he wound the sensual tension tighter and tighter, rubbing and caressing her. She gasped again when he suddenly replaced his fingers with his tongue, creating a pattern of heat and ice as he licked her, the moist warmth of his tongue followed by the chill of air passing over the wetted skin.
Her legs buckled, and she would have fallen if he’d not caught her. Laughing softly, he supported her across the room, tossed his cloak atop hers before guiding her down on the bed.
Leaning back against the headboard, he pulled her onto his lap, kissing her while his fingers swiftly unloosed her bodice and stays, then pushed the material down until her breasts were fully bared to him, nipples tight and puckered.
‘Lovely,’ he murmured, and bent to suckle her.
She cried out then, hands fisting in his hair as she held his head there, pleasuring first one breast and then the other. While he suckled her he worked one hand under her skirts, caressing her leg from ankle to knee to the smooth curve of her inner thigh.
Pillowing her head on the soft material of their cloaks, he lowered her onto the bed and bent over her, parting her thighs as he suckled harder. His fingers caressed between her legs, seeking out the nub that throbbed with each nip and pull of his mouth on her breast.
She cried out as he reached that small, exquisitely sensitive scrap of flesh, her legs tensing around his hand. His finger played in the silky wetness, stroking her there and delving lower, inside her throbbing passage.
Just when she felt she must come apart from the intensity of it, he withdrew his hand. Shushing her cry of protest, he bent and replaced his fingertips with the hot velvet brush of his tongue. Beyond thought or sense, she wrapped her legs around his back, holding him against her until, in a wash of heat and an explosion of light, she shattered like a kaleidoscope into a thousand shards of pleasure.
When she came back to herself, she lay loosely wrapped in his arms. While she felt deliciously satisfied, she knew from his panting breaths that he had not yet reached a similar state. Languidly she reached over to pop open a button on his trouser flap. Excitement pulsed in her anew when she clasped his length and felt him jump in her hand.
Wonderful as the first had been, she wanted more. She wanted everything. Though what came next went beyond all previous experience, into territory from which there was no return, she meant to seize her chance to feel this exciting, vital part of him sheathed within her, to sense it as he found his satisfaction, his lips at her breast as he drove deep within her.
‘I’m afraid you are behind me, sir,’ she murmured, stroking a finger over the satiny tip.
He gasped before his breathy laugh rumbled in her ear. ‘Not yet, but I’d like to be,’ he murmured.
‘Then we must see if this new mode of heating is as satisfactory as the last,’ she replied, unfastening the other button to let the trouser flap fall and expose him completely to her avid gaze.
‘Lovely,’ she murmured, and bent to taste him.
Thick and rigid, and yet so smooth, she marvelled, exulting in the groans and gasps she drew from him as she explored his length. Suddenly he rolled her sideways, letting her continue to feast on him while he pushed apart her thighs and tasted her again.
His urgent tongue soon brought her to the pinnacle of release. Wanting this time, though, to experience the full measure of delight, she pulled away and settled herself above, straddling him.
Suddenly uncertain how to proceed, she hesitated. With a tender smile he reached up to brush a finger across her lips, then gently grasped her hips to fit her over his sleek length. Murmuring her name, he guided himself in.
Her passage burned as it stretched to accommodate his fullness, and for a moment she almost regretted her rashness. But then, balancing her weight, he slid back and struggled to a sitting position, cupping her derrière in one hand and with the other pulling her torso close enough for him to trap one nipple between his lips.
As he rolled the tip between his teeth, nipping and sucking, the tightness within her eased. A new tension began building as she slid him deeper, her body instinctively finding that most ancient and basic of rhythms. Soon she was hovering again on the precipice, until he slipped a finger between them, rubbing her nub from above while his length caressed her within, and the tensi
on dissolved in a burst of sensation.
Amid the waves of pleasure she felt him stiffen and cry out as his own release took him. Then she collapsed on his chest and lay there, exultant, satiated, complete.
Oh, indeed, in this too they were well matched, she thought, relishing in the feel of him buried within her. While she lay against him he drew her crushed skirts back down over her legs and slid a hand beneath them again, to caress her naked bottom.
Murmuring with appreciation, she wriggled against him…and felt his softening length jerk within her, setting off an answering jolt of pleasure in her. She began to rock gently in time to the ministration of his hands, while his shaft swelled and hardened again.
They took pleasure slowly this time, with Allen rolling her over and propping himself above her, where he could alternately taste her lips and her breasts while gradually increasing the rhythm and depth of his thrusts. Until she was panting with urgency, wrapping her legs around him and begging him to thrust harder, deeper, until they both found ecstasy again.
They must have dozed, for when consciousness returned Meredyth found herself lying in his arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder, while outside the chamber windows the afternoon sun was fading.
She looked up to find him watching her, a tender smile on his face.
Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she knew in that moment she was lost.
‘Delightful as our present position is, I suppose we’d better return before they send out a search,’ he said.
‘I suppose we must,’ she replied reluctantly.
‘Before we go, I expect I’d better—’
She put up a hand to stop his lips. ‘Don’t say anything.’
‘Am I not allowed to say you were wonderful?’
She smiled. ‘Yes, I suppose you can say that.’
‘Am I not allowed to acknowledge you totally flummoxed me? I admit, I’ve always seen you as the most proper of maidens. How delightful to discover you are so much more! I expect, however, that upon our return we’d best announce our engagement at once. We can have the banns called—’
One Candlelit Christmas Page 8