The first thrust inside her had been painful, but as he slid in and out of her now, he was relieving some of the aching and longing she had been feeling.
‘You feel wonderful,’ she whispered breathlessly.
He gave her a warm smile, which was all the encouragement she needed to say it again. She felt like she was racing to that precipice again, until he rolled them over and she was now on top of him.
‘Ride me,’ he whispered.
Her confusion must have been evident in her expression, because he helped her straddle his hips. She was now in control of how deep and how fast he entered her. This also was a perfect position to kiss his neck and run her tongue along his collarbone. She liked being on top.
‘Should I move faster?’ she asked against his ear, coming down hard and full over him.
‘Do whatever feels right,’ he said through clenched teeth.
* * *
Bloody hell! How did she do that? Hart knew she was a virgin. It was apparent from the wince she made when he entered her for the first time. And yet she was able to knot him up so tight he was convinced he wouldn’t be able to pull out in time.
She flattened her palms on his chest, bit her lip and threw her head back. Her long, wavy chestnut hair cascaded around her shoulders. These actions were instinctual. There was no false artifice to them. This was Sarah, taking all of him and relishing every single moment of pleasure. He had never seen anything so beautiful. Being touched by her made him feel more alive than anything ever had before, as if he had discovered a new sense of passion he didn’t know existed.
She was tight and slick. The friction between them was incredible. He had always used French letters with all of his lovers, ensuring there would be no child. This was the first time in his life he chose not to use them. With Sarah, he wanted nothing between them.
This feeling of needing to be this close to her was terrifying, yet for the life of him he didn’t want this to end. But he didn’t want to have a bastard, especially not now, and he knew he had better make certain he could pull out from her in time. And if she continued that incredible grinding motion, he wasn’t certain he could do that. Encouraging her to straddle him was a bad idea.
He flipped them.
She tried to flip them back, but he wouldn’t let her. His thrusts were harder and faster.
Within minutes he could feel her body tremble and her nails dig into his back. ‘Hart...’
He held off just long enough for her legs to stop shaking before he grabbed himself and shot his seed on her stomach.
Kneeling between her thighs, he was practically gasping for air and his heart was drumming hard in his chest. It would be a miracle if it slowed down any time soon. He managed to clean her off with his neckcloth before he collapsed down beside her on the rug. Their mingled laboured breaths amid the popping of the logs seemed inordinately loud.
Dammit! Sex with Sarah Forrester was the best sex he had ever had. She was going to be impossible to forget.
She was staring at the ceiling with her hand on her heart. Her breathing had yet to slow. ‘Is it always...?’
‘It’s never like that.’
There was hurt and embarrassment in her eyes when she looked over at him.
‘No. No, Sarah, not in a bad way. It was good. Too good.’
‘Oh.’ She started chewing her lip again. ‘This is bad, isn’t it?’
‘That might be an understatement.’
She propped her chin on her hands that were resting on his chest and looked into his eyes. ‘Do you wish we had not done that?’
‘I do not regret a moment of what just happened.’ Did she? ‘Are you regretting what we have done?’ He had felt so alone and lost tonight. He should have gone back to Julian’s. His friend had been his anchor in many storms in the past. Hell, he could have gone to White’s and immersed himself in cards. But lying in his tub after going a few rough rounds with Julian, the one place he knew he would find peace was with Sarah. With her very American perspective on how she viewed the world, Hart knew she would bear no judgement on him. He had needed the reassurance that the circumstances of his birth had no bearing on the man he was. With her forthright nature, he knew her words would be true.
It was dangerous to depend on her when he was feeling this vulnerable. It was dangerous to depend on her at all. But he needed her just this once. Just this once he needed to be near her and feel as if all would be well in his world. She’d made him feel that way this afternoon in Julian’s study. He had needed to feel that way again tonight.
And he finally felt that way right now lying beside her, sharing this moment. Except his stomach dropped—he knew that this had to be the last time he turned to her. This had to be the last time he held her in his arms. The thought she might be regretting what had just happened between them was making it hard for him to swallow. He had taken her virginity. He had never done that to any woman. And as wrong as it was, he would do it all over again given the chance. He’d wanted to be her first, more than he had wanted anything in his life. Her only.
‘Do you regret this, Sarah?’
When at last she shook her head, his chest felt lighter.
‘No, I don’t. But I do want to do it again...with you. And we can’t. We really shouldn’t. It would be bad.’
He was glad she clarified her comment. He would hate to think he was responsible for turning Sarah into a wanton who would be visiting the beds of a number of young bucks in London before she had to go home to America—and she would be going home. Going back to America. Living an ocean away.
It was sobering and it reminded him that it was best to end things now.
He played with a lock of her hair and twined the curl around his finger. ‘I agree. It wouldn’t be wise to keep doing this, as much as I want to. We’d probably get caught eventually. No matter how careful we were. And eventually I won’t be able to withdraw from you in time, or I wouldn’t want to because I’ll need to know what it feels like to leave something of myself inside you.’
‘Are you always this honest in bed?’
‘Honest, yes. This forthcoming, no. You are easy to talk to. I don’t know why. Over this past year, I have frequently found you irritating.’
She gently flicked his chin with her finger. ‘You did not. I was the one who found you irritating. You and your hair.’
‘What is wrong with my hair?’
‘Look at it. That lock always falls in your eyes. I would think it would get rather tiresome having to do this all the time.’ She gave what he believed was a rather exaggerated imitation of the way he tossed his hair out of his eyes. ‘Why do you continue to have your hair cut so if it obstructs your view of the world?’
‘I like it like this.’
‘It’s annoying.’
He took that lock of her hair and brushed his lips with it, staring into her eyes that were the exact colour as his favourite cognac. ‘You’re rather lovely in bed. You say such sweet and endearing things.’
It was obvious she was fighting the urge to laugh. ‘We aren’t in bed.’
He placed his hand behind his head and glanced around at their clothes scattered about the floor, the rug they were on and the fire that needed tending. ‘Then I will excuse you this time, darling. Next time I’ll take you on a bed and you’ll need to do better.’
It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He shouldn’t be talking of taking her again. He shouldn’t have taken her this time. He could not marry her. His brain knew that. But he hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t regret it. He never would—however, this had to be the one and only time.
Sarah started chewing on her lip. ‘There is a bed just over there.’
He tipped his head back and saw the very comfortable tester bed she slept in. He should leave. The longer he stayed, the greater
the chance of them being discovered. He couldn’t do that to her. But she was just too tempting. ‘Well, since we both agree tonight will be the last time we do this...’
Her small smile shone in her eyes.
‘Is the door locked?’ He arched his brow.
‘I’ve taken to locking it since a certain gentleman has been making a habit of sneaking in here.’
‘Dastardly fellow. Whatever will you do about him?’
She sat back on her heels and held out her hand. ‘I have an idea or two.’
Chapter Fourteen
Sarah was sore and it was all Hart’s fault—him and his big, big idea.
‘We don’t have to lie down,’ he’d said.
‘You can just lean over the bed,’ he’d said.
Well, after having him inside her twice last night and now having to pretend she wasn’t sore while standing politely in the Everills’ drawing room, she was hoping he was at least a little uncomfortable today. It only seemed fair. At least tonight’s event was a musicale and there would be no dancing involved.
Her mind kept drifting to the time they spent together. Not once had he made her feel self-conscious about her curiosity. Not once had she felt as if she should hide the way her body was reacting to his. He had been absolutely lovely with her and it made her heart ache knowing she would never find another man like him. When she married—if she married—she would pretend she was untouched. However, it would be difficult not to compare her wedding night to the one night she had spent in the arms of the Earl of Hartwick.
She tried not to sigh as she glanced around the elegant room. The candlelight sparkling off the crystal chandelier did wonders for the diamonds worn by the fashionable ladies around her. She stood not far from the door with her friends Olivia, the Duchess of Winterbourne, and her sister, Victoria, while they waited to be called into the music room along with the other guests.
They were in the middle of discussing the latest play to open at Drury Lane when Sarah sensed the moment Hart entered the room. She looked past Olivia’s shoulder and watched him make his way through the guests to join a group of gentlemen across the room that included Olivia’s husband. He hadn’t mentioned he was invited, although, to be fair, she hadn’t told him she was attending the musicale tonight either. How was she ever going to be able to appear composed with him here after what they shared last night?
Victoria gently nudged her arm and nodded towards the group Hart was standing in. ‘You seem surprised to see Lord Hartwick here?’
Oh, lud! Was it that obvious she was panting after him already? How would she survive the rest of her time in London if everyone noticed her interest in him each time they were in the same room?
‘I wasn’t aware he was that well acquainted with the family.’
That was good. It showed vague interest and seemed like a feasible thing to wonder about.
‘I would surmise the invitation was extended at the request of Everill’s niece. I’ve noticed she has shown as interest in him since her husband passed. Someone should inform the poor woman he only has an appetite for married women.’
It wasn’t easy to smile back at that observation but Sarah tried. Thankfully Olivia resumed recounting the performance she had attended last night, drawing Victoria back into their conversation.
Over Olivia’s shoulder she saw Hart scan the room, then those soft lips of his rose into a conspiratorial smile as his eyes met hers. His fixed attention was making her feel warm.
The Duke of Winterbourne turned and said something to him, pulling his attention away from her momentarily to reply. But as soon as the Duke and his brother, Lord Andrew Pearce, began speaking again, Hart’s eyes were back on her. This time they travelled slowly over her body.
Victoria excused herself to say hello to some friends, leaving Sarah and Olivia alone. But they weren’t alone for long. Both of them were surprised when Olivia’s husband joined them with Hart by his side. Was he trying to torture her with his presence?
Sarah had only spoken to the Duke on a few occasions. He always struck her as a very formidable man. It might be his impressive height and broad frame. Or the way he barely spoke. Or it might be that he had only recently reconciled with his wife and Sarah had become very fond of Olivia.
He addressed her first as they stopped across from them. ‘Good evening, Miss Forrester. I hope you and your family are well.’
She gave a polite curtsy. ‘They are. Thank you, Your Grace.’ She attempted to smile politely at Hart and he nodded a proper greeting. This was good. She could behave as if nothing had happened between them.
The Duke turned his attention to his wife, giving Sarah a chance to study his angular features as he stood next to Hart. There was a sharp contrast between the two men. The Duke had neatly trimmed, light brown hair and wore an expertly cut black tailcoat with a pale blue silk waistcoat. Hart was dressed all in black as usual and that lock of his jet-black hair was draped close to his eye.
‘I need you to settle a wager Hartwick and I have,’ he said to Olivia. ‘He believes Mr Lawrence’s portrait of Prinny for the Waterloo Chamber will have him on horseback. I told him he was wrong but he insists. Could you please tell him that he is wrong?’
Olivia’s brown eyes narrowed as she looked between the two men. ‘You wagered over this?’
‘Forty guineas. It was his idea,’ the Duke said as if he saw nothing wrong with making a wager over such an odd detail.
She let out a sigh and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry to say, Hartwick, the portrait does not include a horse or any animal for that matter, in the event you both thought to wager over whether it had a dog.’
‘You’re certain?’
It was the first time Sarah had heard Hart’s deep voice since he bid her goodnight before climbing over the rail of her balcony last night. Her insides did a funny flip.
‘I’m quite sure,’ Olivia replied with a nod.
‘Well, that doesn’t seem at all like a portrait worth hanging in a room commemorating the battle and our victory.’
‘Except Prinny wasn’t at the battle,’ the Duke replied in exasperation.
Hart looked eagerly at his friend. ‘I wager at least one of them is on horseback.’
Winterbourne closed his eyes and shook his head while rubbing his brow. ‘No.’
‘You suck the joy out of everything. It’s a wonder you and I have remained friends as long as we have.’
‘I’ve tried to get rid of you. You never seem to take the suggestion.’ There was a teasing glint in the Duke’s eyes that startled Sarah. She would have never imagined he was one for humour.
‘Yes, well, one of these days I shall leave town and ride off to the countryside, and you shall be rid of me. I find town can become so confining at times. Wouldn’t you say, Miss Forrester?’
Her words from last night... What was he about? Was that a flush spreading up her neck?
She cleared her throat to find her voice. ‘I find I feel the same, my lord. While I do enjoy town, there is nothing like the fresh country air.’
‘And being able to ride,’ Hart said wistfully. ‘There isn’t much chance for you to ride while in town, I imagine.’
‘I think one can find opportunities to ride if one is eager enough,’ the Duke said more to his wife than to Hart.
Olivia began to choke on her sip of wine. Poor thing—Sarah hated when she swallowed and it went down the wrong way.
‘Do you ride, Miss Forrester?’ Hart raised his brows, looking somewhat angelic.
She had last night. Twice.
‘I do.’
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘Very much so.’
Hart’s lips twitched. ‘I couldn’t agree with you more. There is nothing quite like a good ride to get one’s heart racing. Do you prefer to gall
op or canter when you ride?’
They had agreed last night that it would be the last time they would be together. She should not flirt with him, but it was impossible not to. ‘I find I prefer neither exclusively. If one only gallops or canters, the ride can be rather singular in its enjoyment.’
‘I agree. One never wants to be singular in one’s enjoyment.’
Her insides were tingling and it was getting warm. He was such a rogue.
Olivia turned to her. ‘I had no idea you enjoyed the countryside. Since you’ve come from Washington, I assumed being accustomed to town life you would have preferred that.’
‘Oh, I do enjoy town as well, but I do miss the countryside.’
‘The countryside does have its appeal,’ Winterbourne said, nodding sagely. ‘One cannot swim in town.’
‘True,’ Olivia replied. ‘And there is nothing as stimulating as a refreshing swim in the country.’
While it didn’t seem unusual for Sarah to have learned to swim, it did surprise her that a woman of Olivia’s station would have learned.
‘My only objection to going out to the countryside is that it is such a bother,’ Sarah said, recalling her endless ride to visit Katrina at Lyonsdale’s grand ancestral home. ‘The carriage rides can take so long.’
‘They’re not that bothersome,’ Olivia and the Duke said in unison and then both looked away.
This gave Hart an ideal opportunity to eye Sarah through his dark lashes. It wasn’t a horribly overt look, but in the depths of those blue eyes she knew he was also having a difficult time not thinking about last night.
‘Well, we’ve intruded on your conversation long enough,’ he said, tossing that lock of hair out of his eyes in a rather exaggerated gesture. ‘Thank you for settling the wager for us, Your Grace.’
‘Yes, Hartwick is right. Miss Forrester, it has been a pleasure.’ Winterbourne gave her a polite dip of his head. ‘Olivia.’
An Unexpected Countess Page 17