Antonia trembled. Fire surged through her. She arched under his mouth, begging, pleading for him to take her. He had stretched her on a rack of sensual pleasure so keen she thought she'd fly
52 Bonnie Hamre
apart. Every inch of her body was attuned to his. Each of her muscles strained to hold him closer, to urge him to rise above her, part her thighs and make her his.
His long legs, muscled and strong, enclosed hers. She felt the hair on them as a furry pelt and moaned. She traced the line of the hair on his chest as it tapered in a wide vee from his nipples to his navel, then extended down to luxuriantly cup his sex. She gasped when he lowered his chest to hers and caressed her with his body hair.
He took first one nipple, then the other in his mouth, taking as much of her rounded breast as he could until she felt as if she were being devoured by him. Passion poured through her with each pull of his lips. She moaned, "No, it's too good. No more."
Yet he did not desist. Instead he maintained his control by pushing her beyond pleasure, into the realm of rapture. He lowered his body to hers, and with one supreme thrust, entered her. She responded with instinctive tightening of her muscles around him. Her orgasms came, one after another, with such force that she cried and gripped him harder.
Once, twice, a dozen times he thrust, each lunge more powerful and deeper than the one before, until at last, with a mighty roar, he claimed her as his.
When he collapsed, breathing heavily, his body resting on hers, searing her with his heat, she lay with her eyes closed, holding him near. With one hand she stroked his back in slow, easy caresses, sated and grateful. She had been right to search for a new lover. This man more than fulfilled her every requirement.
At last, his breathing evened out and he rolled to his side, pulling Antonia with him. She went willingly, wanting this closeness as much as she had earlier hungered for the passion.
Sutherland kept one hand on her hip, and with the other, caressed her throat. He pressed a kiss on each eyelid, closing them. When she didn't protest, he slipped a finger under the material at her throat. The green silk, moistened by her perspiration, clung to her skin. The moment he drew it away on one side, it clung to the other. She made a sound in her throat, part laugh and part moan,
A Lady's Quest 53
as if she enjoyed his struggle to unmask her.
He persisted, cursing his suddenly fumbling fingers, until he managed to loosen the strings that kept the mask in place. One by one, he undid the knots at the back of her head and lifted the fabric away from her face. Feature by feature, her beautiful face was revealed to him.
He dropped the mask to one side, relieved that the masquerade would soon be over. He bent and pressed kisses on her closed eyes, on her temples, down her cheek until he came to her mouth. He gave her a kiss of promise, of welcome.
He drew his mouth away. "Open your eyes, Antonia."
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CHAPTER EIGHT
Drugged with pleasure, it took Antonia a moment to focus her eyes, and then they popped open in disbelief. Dougal MacDonald, that unmitigated cad of a seventh duke of Sutherland, gazed down at her.
She sat bolt upright and grabbed a sheet to cover her breasts. "What on earth are you doing here?"
He laughed. "Surely that should be obvious, Antonia."
"Why are you here? What have you done with—" she fell silent when she noticed his nudity. "Oh, no. Not you."
"Without a doubt."
"You mean to tell me that you, that you—"
"It isn't often I have seen you a loss for words, my dear. What happened to your gift for conversation?"
She drew the sheet closer to her throat. Her pulse pounding, she closed her eyes. She had to be dreaming. When she opened them a few moments later, he was still there. "I had hoped I was having a nightmare."
He lifted a finger to stroke her cheek. She leaned away from his touch. "Come now. You can not deny that you and I have just experienced one of the most wonderful moments together."
"I do not understand. Why have you done this?"
"Ah, Antonia, where is your sharp wit? I can only hope that I have worn it to a frazzle by my lovemaking. And as to why I am here, I repeat, that should be obvious. I am to be your next, and I might add as a small warning, your only lover."
"No."
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He sat upright. "You wish to renege on the arrangement, Antonia? I'm afraid I will not allow that."
She cast him an annoyed glance and then pointedly looked away from his broad shoulders and muscled chest. "You are here under false pretenses. The arrangement does not apply to you. I specifically do not want another peer in my bed."
"Could you not forget my title for a moment and consider me as any other man?"
She refused to be drawn. "I will not consider you at all."
"You have no choice," he said briskly. "You yourself set up the rules. You would allow only the man you intend to take as your lover to enter your body. I have done that. Ergo, I am your lover."
"You are quite wrong. I refuse you."
"You would change the rules that easily?"
His voice, soft with unspoken threat, made her throat go dry. She swallowed and gathered her wits. "This is not a game. Nor a duel. I alone set the rules."
"A man would be held accountable for such dishonor."
She hitched the sheet up to her throat. "Please clothe yourself and
leave. Immediately."
"Not quite so fast, my lady. We have yet to set the conditions for our new arrangement."
She exhaled. "There is no arrangement between us. How often must I tell you that?"
"I have heard you." His voice turned hard, as if he would brook no further disagreement. "Now you are to listen to me."
"If I cry out, my servants will eject you immediately."
He blinked, then smiled. "If you do that, my servants will thrash your servants and I shall return in triumph."
His sense of humor worried her more than his authoritarian tone. It made her weak, vulnerable to the man as well as the lover. In some desperation, she cried, "This is not a jesting matter! Please leave me."
His voice lost its teasing tone. "You are quite right, on that score at least. This is not a humorous situation. Allow me to tell you what this is."
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"And if I refuse?"
He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. "You will not refuse."
She shuddered but she kept her gaze steadily on his.
"This, my dear Lady Antonia Blair-Sutworth, is an offer of marriage. You would do me great honor by becoming my wife."
Her mouth dropped open. With his finger, he gently closed it.
"You are mad," she breathed.
"About you, yes. I am besotted, insane with love for you. I would grovel at your feet, but I am afraid in your present mood you would take the opportunity to do me damage."
"Why? Why are you doing this?"
"Antonia, I should have thought my motives perfectly clear. I want you to be my duchess."
"Last night you said you had already chosen one."
"I was quite honest with you. I just didn't mention that I had chosen you."
She shook her head. "No. I will not marry you."
"Why not? As you yourself mentioned, the ton has decided that it is time I take a wife." He paused, as if reflecting on the ton managing his affairs, then continued. "For the first, and no doubt the only time, I am in agreement with Society. You need not worry about your future. I have wealth to support you and our children many times over. I have lands and houses at your disposal. I will shower you with jewels and whatever fripperies you wish—"
"There is no need to catalogue your material advantages, your grace."
"Many mothers have set their daughters at me, but I have held
out," he continued as though she had not interrupted him. "Refusing many a tempting morsel for a chance at—"
; "At the entire pie?" she asked, smiling despite herself. "Your words
are not very complimentary, your grace."
He laughed. "I do admire your quick wit, my dear. Even when I
am the butt of your joke."
"It is flattering to be asked to be your duchess, but I must refuse."
"Are your affections engaged elsewhere?"
A LADY'S QUEST 57
Startled by the abrupt change in his manner, she paused before answering him. "No."
"Are you suffering from some dreadful disease?"
"Of course not."
"Are you already married?"
"I am a widow, as you very well know."
"Then I find no impediment, unless you find me distasteful."
She touched his cheek. "You know that I do not."
He smiled at her. "You find me attractive?"
"Very much so."
"We already know that we suit quite well together in bed. What keeps you from accepting?"
"I have my reasons."
"You do not love me?"
She sighed. "I fear that I love you to distraction, your grace."
"Call me Dougal."
She smiled at the intimacy he offered with his given name. "Dougal."
"Good." His smile was fierce, proud and possessive. "Now repeat that last sentence."
"I love you to distraction, Dougal."
He bent his head and kissed her. His lips told her he loved her. He'd cherish her to their last days.
When he lifted his head, Sutherland saw the tears in her lustrous green eyes. "Why do you cry, Antonia?"
"I cannot marry you, or any other. I have sworn so."
"A religious vow?" he asked, confusion in his voice.
"No, not that." She wiped her cheeks dry. "A vow to myself."
"I don't understand. Why do you not want to marry again?"
"It's not something a man would understand."
"Try me," he urged, his voice low and encouraging.
She studied him, her gaze lingering on each of his beloved features. "Since my husband died three years ago, I have discovered several things about myself. Things that many would consider unsuitable in a woman."
"Such as?"
58 Bonnie Hamre
"I prefer being a widow to being a wife."
"You do?" He leaned forward to rest an elbow on his knee. "Why is that?"
"I do not have to answer to a husband, for one."
He sat up. "I can see where that might discomfit a husband or two."
She smiled at his wry tone. "Shall I continue?"
"Please do. This is fascinating."
"I am my own mistress, as I said. I control my own means."
"That is point two," he observed. "Is there more?"
"Quite a bit more, but it can be summarized easily. In short, I am independent."
He was silent for a moment, as if considering the meaning of her words. "If you had all of those things, and you could be married at the same time, would you consider it then?"
"It is not possible, your grace—"
"Dougal."
"Impossible, Dougal. It is a contradiction in terms. How can a woman be married and independent at the same time?"
"Let me think on it. I shall come upon a way."
"You are too confident of yourself."
"Should I not be? Do you not like it when I am sure of what I am about?"
She knew they no longer spoke of her wish for independence. She pressed a kiss on his shoulder. "How could I deny it?"
"You cannot," he agreed with satisfaction.
She continued with her kisses, making her way slowly along the musculature of his chest until she came to a nipple. She flicked her tongue on it, once twice, then sucked on it in imitation of what he had done to her.
He grasped her head in both hands and gently raised her face to his. "If you do that, I shall not be able to think straight."
"Do not think," she murmured. "Let me make love to you." One last time, she added silently. Once more to last me the rest of my days and nights.
"If you think to distract me—" he warned.
A lady's Quest 59
"I think you are a most wonderful, imaginative, powerful lover. Your stamina is truly impressive."
He rose to the occasion immediately. His arousal grew against her hip and she smiled with satisfaction. He lay back, putting his body at her disposition. She toyed with the hair on his chest, running her fingers through the silky hairs, pulling and tugging gently as her mouth continued its foray down his belly. She felt his heart pick up speed, his breathing grow shallow even as she felt his stomach muscles contract under her questing touch.
She pressed kisses all over his face and throat, then settled down and kissed him seriously. His mouth opened under hers when she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue and probed deeper. He tasted of sweet passion, now heady and frantic, now soft and languid. She lingered, testing every bit of his mouth, dueling with her tongue, aping the thrusts he would make soon.
By his passivity, he gave her the freedom to explore his body as he had explored hers. With every touch, she expanded on what she had learned from him. He groaned but made no move to stop her.
His chest rubbed against hers, the hair caressing her breasts. They were already sensitive from their earlier lovemaking and peaked instantly against him. She arched to feel more.
"Dougal," she whispered. "I want—"
"Yes? What do you want?"
"You, just you. Love me."
He could refuse her nothing. Complying with her whispered request, he moved closer, shifting his weight to rub against her. His cock, already hard and eager, throbbed against her thigh. She moved her hands to his shoulders, then to the back to play with his hair and stroke his neck. He responded by nuzzling her neck, leaving kisses in his wake. She murmured and lifted her chin to give him greater access.
He shifted to reach her breasts, and followed the line of her shoulder to her arm, kissing and nibbling as he went. He pushed her arm out of the way and licked his way to her elbow, then up again, blowing gently at the moist path he'd made until she moved restlessly beneath him. His hands clasped her breasts and she moaned with the
60 Bonnie Hamre
joy of it as he left her arm and concentrated on her nipples.
Everything he had done to her before in the name of seduction, he did again with love. Where before his technique had evoked raw lust from her, now his tenderness and emotional approach wrought intense passion all the more lustful and ardent for being caring and tender.
She lay under his hands, coming alive in every pore, as euphoric and avid as though they had not already indulged themselves to exhaustion. Wherever she could reach him, she stroked and petted him, nipping at his skin, breathing in the scent of aroused male. She licked him, tasting the salt of his earlier exertions, and left bites of her own on his broad chest.
When he pushed himself down the bed to rest between her legs and placed his mouth on her intimate flesh, made extra sensitive by his earlier ministrations, she cried, "Oh, no more! I can't bear it."
He gentled his embrace but did not move away. His tongue barely touching her, he laved her soreness away until it was replaced by need. Her orgasm was his reward.
He moved up on her again, and rising to his knees, he lifted her legs and placed them around his waist. When he did not move, she lifted her eyes in confusion. "When I come into you now, I come as your husband."
She bit her lip, wracked with unbearable passion, yet wanting him more than she had ever wanted anything before, or would ever want anything again.
He probed at her entry with the tip of his member. "Decide now, Antonia."
She felt the velvety smoothness of the skin stretched over hard muscle and wavered. She knew it was emotional blackmail to force her to choose when she was unable to think straight, but oh, Lord, how good he felt against her!
"You mean this?" she gasped.
"I do not li
e. You should know that by now." He penetrated her, barely entering her, and withdrew.
She moaned at the loss.
"Decide, Antonia, before I go mad," he ordered in an aching whisper.
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She arched against him, her hips moving restlessly. The silken feel of her was more than he could bear, yet he forced himself not to move. Muscles straining, sweat beading his forehead and chest, he held himself immobile above her.
She stared up at him with wild eyes. She tossed her head back, her mouth gasping for breath. At last, she surrendered. "Yes, yes, damn you, yes!"
With a groan he penetrated her in one long thrust. They moaned together as he rested, deeply imbedded, for just a moment before he began a long, slow rhythmic stroke.
It was madness. It was sheer bliss. It was heaven.
It seemed hours that he maintained a steady rhythm, propelling them forward. She begged for release. He increased his pace and with his thumb, found her bud and stroked it. Madness overtook her. With each movement of his body he propelled her further into passion until her orgasms overtook them both and provoked his. He cried out her name as his back arched into one spasm after another. He poured himself into her.
She wept.
******************
She raised her head to look at him. "It will be difficult for me to forget you."
"Forget me?" He forced an eye open. "How are you going to forget me when I intend to make love to you every day and most of the night?"
"You will not have the opportunity."
"I thought we had settled this. You agreed to marry me."
"You forced me to say so under duress."
"Duress?" he repeated, his tone severe.
"How could you expect me to think, much less make such an important decision, under those circumstances?"
"Listen to me, Antonia." He sat up against the pillows and made himself comfortable, then drew her into his arms. "I have no intention of letting you get away from me. I have thought of a way to satisfy us both."
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