by Alice Gaines
He hardened immediately, his rod poking against the sheet. He still had her for a while. He could still sink into her, feel her heat and wetness close around his shaft. He could experience the shocks of her orgasm as she spent around him. God, would he ever get enough of her?
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at him for a long moment and then went back to staring out the window. “Once upon a time, I called it thinking.”
“Can’t you do that over here?”
“No. That’s the problem,” she said, still keeping her gaze away from him. “I can’t think when I’m around you.”
“Then why don’t you come here and let me make you feel?”
“You do that well enough,” she said. “Only you make me feel all sorts of things I shouldn’t.”
“We can’t help our emotions. We can only control our actions.”
“We’ve behaved very badly this evening.”
Even though part of his mind told him she was right, he couldn’t really regret what he’d done. They loved each other. In the end, they’d have to part, but for now, the greater crime would come from denying that love than acting on it. Nature didn’t give you that gift so that you could discard it. Some people never truly loved at all. What a waste to have that most blessed attachment and not experience it to the fullest.
She still didn’t come to him, so he’d have to go to her. After tossing back the covers, he got out of bed and went to her. The floorboards chilled his feet, even though the weather hadn’t been truly cold. He went to her, wrapped his arms around her body, and pulled her back against him.
“You’re shivering.”
“I suppose. I hardly noticed.”
He bent and wrapped himself around her, sharing the warmth of his body. “Come back to bed.”
“I told you I loved you, didn’t I?”
“You did. Did you mean it?”
She sighed. “I wish I didn’t.”
“I don’t.” He turned her and bent lower to place his lips against hers. In reality, this impossible woman was actually quite small. When he held her close, her size tugged at all his protective instincts, and that made him love her all the more. She melted into him as she always did when he kissed her. From the very first, just a touch set them both off. He should have realized that night after the opera what his body was trying to tell him. He’d never feel about another woman the way he felt about this one.
After blissful moments of sampling her mouth, he pulled back and gazed into her face. “Come back to bed.”
“Will you debauch me again?”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Good. I haven’t sinned for several hours.” Instead of following him, she took his hand and led him back to her bed. Once there, she laid on the sheets he’d just left and reached up her arms to invite him to join her. He went down onto her, keeping his weight on his upper arms. Their mouths came together like two halves of a whole, fitting together while the heat coiled around them. Warmth from his body and hers and, as usual, the excitement they generated beyond what could be explained by any rational means. Love had its own chemistry, it seemed. He’d miss this for the rest of his life, but at least he’d had it, if only for this brief time.
Thrust against her softness, his cock now ached, the impatient thing. He moved his hips, letting her feel his need. She smiled up at him. A wicked grin. She knew the power she had over him. Just a touch, no more than a thought about her, could make him hard and throbbing. But then, he could create the same effect in her, even if it weren’t so obvious.
“Think you own me, do you?” he whispered.
“Not you, but that beast in your pants.”
“And what about your puss?” he said. “I can make her purr.”
“I have no doubt you can.”
“Shall I do it now?” he said.
“No need. I’m ready for you.”
“Ah, but she’s a pretty thing. I think I’ll scratch behind her ears.”
“Foolish man,” she said, still smiling. More than enough invitation.
He moved off her, just to her side. When he placed his hand over her mound, her legs fell apart in welcome. The little scamp had already become wet, proving how much she wanted him. He parted the lips and found her pearl, which had hardened while waiting for him. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger and watched as her eyes closed and she drifted into the dream world between reality and orgasm. Lips pursed and eyelids moving as if in sleep, she was the picture of female passion—a woman fully engaged in her carnal nature. The sort of lover that most rewarded and enflamed the man lucky enough to know her intimately.
“Jason,” she murmured.
“Yes, my love.”
“I need you.”
“You shall have me,” he said.
“Oh . . . um . . . I need you now.”
“So soon?”
She opened her eyes, but as aroused as she’d become, they had a feverish, hungry look. “Please.”
He could never deny this woman anything, especially if she wanted his sex inside hers. Besides, watching her had made him even more desperate for the joining. So he found his place, the tip of his member nudging between the lips of her puss, and eased himself inside. Now she truly did own him, every inch of his cock, every part of his body, every thought and desire of his mind and soul. Struggling to hold back, he moved slowly and gently. She deserved a long and thorough loving, not a rush to madness that would end the encounter before she’d felt the extent and fullness of his love.
Breathing with him, she moved upward to meet him. Wrapping her legs around him, she matched him step for step in the erotic dance. They might have done this for years already, they stayed with each other so perfectly. And yet, this might have been their first time, because it held all the wonder of a newfound love.
She stroked his back as they strained against each other, small fingers trailing over his spine. The tenderness touched his heart even as the grip of her muscles around his manhood threatened to undo him. He went deeper now until she’d taken all of him, to the root. When she arched her back and sighed, he picked up the pace. He could draw this out as long as they both could stand, but in the end, he’d have to press for her climax so that he could join her.
The walls of her chamber gripped him, seeking more contact. Of course he gave her what she wanted, moving harder and faster. The more he gave, the more she demanded, and her rising cries told the story of a woman near her breaking point.
Enough. The end would come now. He could only strive to make it good for her. He continued rocking, thrusting, burying himself inside her. Her body tensed—the first signal that she’d spend. Then she squeezed him like a fist for long moments as a cry tore from her. After that came the convulsions. Strong and fast, one following right on another.
The ultimate embrace. As always, it triggered his own explosion. After a few more wild thrusts, he emptied himself inside her in powerful waves. Good, so good. Better than anything he could imagine. Sublime, and theirs. Only for the two of them.
When he finished and rolled onto his side next to her, her hands continued stroking him. Touching him everywhere while her gaze followed the movements of her fingers. She was memorizing him. He hadn’t understood before why she’d cried. It made perfect sense now. Though she’d told him with words that she loved him, her actions now said so much more.
Of course, he’d already stored every detail about her away in his heart. Her smile, her walk, every contour of her body, her cries of completion, the way she breathed in her sleep. He’d take those images with him and never lose them.
*
On the whole, Jason hadn’t done much sneaking into the house in the wee hours of the morning in recent years. Of course, this time the sun had burned the wee hours off some time ago, and the company at Hollyfield was up and about. He’d managed to avoid them all so far. With a bit of luck and a light step, he might succeed in making his way undetec
ted to his bedroom on this return from being where he shouldn’t be.
No, correct that . . . being with someone he shouldn’t be with. On the last occasion he’d spent the night out with Bess, he’d made the mistake of coming in the front door, only to find Mr. Swan waiting for him. At least that time, he’d had something of a reason—rescuing his neighbor. Without that excuse this morning, he took the precaution of climbing up the back stairs, but a Swan caught him, anyway. Alice Swan.
Facing her was better in some ways. As an innocent, her mind wouldn’t automatically jump to the wrong, or in this case right, conclusion. Worse in other ways: if she did jump to that conclusion, she’d have every right to hate him. She might even carry on, weep, or even swoon in outrage loudly enough for everyone else to come running.
Not a good sign. She stood in front of his door, clearly confused about something and more than a little concerned. Of all the purely disgraceful things—to run off after having made their engagement public. He shouldn’t have done it, and he could only hope that in the years ahead of them, he could make amends for his thoughtlessness. He’d tried to blame his callous disregard for anyone but himself on drink, but that dishonesty didn’t hold up in the light of day. Bess’s announcement had shocked him to his core, and he‘d had to have one last taste of her lips under his as he sank into her.
Now, he had to face his fiancée when he could scarcely face himself. She spotted him and her expression deepened into utter astonishment. She pointed at him. “What are you doing there?”
Of all questions she might have asked, he hadn’t expected that. “What you’re doing there. Standing.”
“But you’re supposed to be in your room.” This time, she indicated his door. “Your valet told me you were indisposed.”
Bless the man. Jason would have to thank him in some way. “I told him to say that so I wouldn’t be interrupted.”
“Interrupted while doing what?”
“I went out for an early ride.” The Almighty would certainly punish him for that one. He deserved no less. If God didn’t make him miserable for the lie, he certainly would make himself miserable, for years. But honestly, would telling her the truth accomplish anything other than turning the unforgivable into pure cruelty? He had no intention of breaking off the marriage. He would marry her, and he would devote himself to making her happy. Starting right now.
“You’re wearing your uniform,” she said.
“Ah, yes . . .” Surely, he could concoct an explanation for that aside from the obvious—that he’d never changed his clothes since the night before. “I like to keep to military discipline—rising early, proper attire, that sort of thing. I don’t want to get soft now that I’m back in England.”
“It just seems . . .” She furled her brow in thought. “Odd.”
“It won’t once we’ve been married for some time.”
“I suppose so.” Her expression brightened. “You do look very handsome in it.”
“There. You see, all’s well.” And it was, as long as no one else noticed his absence.
“Well, then I was wondering . . .” She nibbled on her lip for a moment, in the most adorable way possible.
He walked toward her, lifted her chin, and gazed into her face. She was a truly lovely thing, a girl who’d mature into a great beauty. He ought to count his blessings in capturing such a splendid creature. He oughtn’t to run off to another woman, no matter how quickly she could set his blood to the boil.
“What were you wondering?” he asked.
She tugged at his hands. “Now that we’re engaged, we’re allowed a bit more intimacy, don’t you think?”
“Intimacy as in . . .”
“You’re teasing me.” She turned a very appealing pink. “You know what I mean.”
A potential trap here. Any misstep could set off a hell of a snare. “A gentleman never presumes.”
“Come to my bedroom, and I’ll show you,” she said, pulling at his hands.
“Surely not.” He dug his heels in and refused to budge. “Not your bedroom.”
“Don’t tell me that the brave soldier is afraid of the little girl?” She was smiling broadly now, the perfect coquette. A pretty debutante at home in her element.
“You’re not a little girl, as you know quite well.” And he would not compound his sin of the night before with another dalliance now. Not even with the woman he planned to marry.
“You truly don’t trust yourself around me?”
“Not in your bedroom,” he said. “Not if I don’t know what you have planned for me.”
“Just a few kisses.” She covered her mouth with her fingers and giggled into them. “What did you think?”
He took a breath of relief. “Kisses, of course. But we might be discovered there.”
“People are much more likely to find us in other places. Such as standing in this hallway.” She released one of his hands and led him away by the other. And why not? Kisses were allowed, even expected at this point. He’d certainly appear suspicious if he refused.
So with a prayer for secrecy, he followed her into her bedroom and glanced around for any sign of her maid. None, thank heaven. His little huntress had her quarry trapped as she closed the door and leaned against it to prevent his escape. Finally, he opened his arms, and she ran to them. Her eyes squeezed shut and her lips pursed, and she tipped her face up to his in a caricature of a kiss.
“Let’s . . .” Oh dear, how could he fix this without hurting her feelings? “. . . start at the beginning, shall we?”
She opened her eyes. “Was that wrong?”
“Of course not,” he said. “We’re just a little ahead of ourselves.”
She fairly bobbed up and down in excitement. “Teach me. I’m eager to learn.”
“First, relax. Here, let me show you.” He grasped her shoulders and rolled them gently. “Don’t fight the motion. Lean into it.”
She managed that well enough, her limbs growing supple. “Better?”
“Much. Now let me do the work.”
“All right.” She gazed at him out of perfectly clear eyes, as if expecting him to perform some kind of parlor trick instead of a simple kiss. Still, she was treating the whole enterprise the way she might learn a new dance step. An exercise in curiosity and nothing more. This wouldn’t do at all.
“Maybe close your eyes, after all,” he said.
She nodded and let her lids drift downward. Definite improvement there. He lowered his head toward hers, only to discover he had the wrong angle. Or she did, rather, so he took her chin in his hand and tipped her head so that he could place his lips over hers. She neither responded nor withdrew but held perfectly still. After a moment, he lifted his head again.
She opened her eyes and giggled. “That was wonderful.”
“It was?” He cleared his throat. “That is, it was, certainly.”
“I’m glad you’re teaching me how to kiss.”
But he wasn’t really, only what was he doing? He’d had no experience with virgins, but surely, they had some female passion buried beneath the layers of corsets and petticoats, didn’t they? The more experienced women he’d known took as much pleasure in the marital act as he did. Even Sarah responded to his touch in her own self-absorbed way. This one couldn’t be so very different from the others. He’d awaken her animal nature . . . well . . . somehow.
“Do it again,” she demanded with the same excitement she might exhibit at buying a new bonnet.
“All right.” This time, he took her face between his hands and kissed her with more authority, parting his lips slightly as they traveled over hers. Still nothing in response. No sigh, no softening beneath his mouth, no leaning into him. Good Lord, what was he going to do?
He pulled back. “We’d best stop here.”
“Really?” She gazed up at him out of eyes unclouded by anything resembling desire. “Why?”
“We’re alone in your bedroom.” That was true, although it had nothing to do with the fac
t that he’d have to put a great deal more thought into how to approach making love to her before he tried again.
She covered her mouth with her fingers again. “Do you mean that you might forget yourself if we continue?”
“You’re a very beautiful young woman.” Also true.
“Oh, my.” She giggled again. “I can’t wait for our wedding night.”
“Nor can I.” God help him if she giggled then.
Chapter Fifteen
Bess couldn’t stay in her room all day, and even if she tried, Anna and Rose would seek her out there. So after she’d helped Jason escape the house, kissing him one last time as he leaned in through the hallway window while preparing to climb down the rose arbor, she dressed herself as she did every day and allowed Sally to do up her hair. Then, head held high, she descended the stairs and went into the breakfast room and directly to the buffet.
Anna and Rose watched in silence as she poured tea and piled her plate high with things she’d never manage to choke down. Today wasn’t an ordinary day. Today, her private places had a pleasant ache from being thoroughly, deliciously, and decadently used. She had to stifle a sigh of satisfaction before she took her tea and food to the table and sat.
She shook out her napkin as nonchalantly as she could manage and smiled at the others. “Pleasant morning.”
“Well you might say.” Anna took a sip of her tea, staring over the rim at Bess the whole time. “When did he leave?”
She coughed on a crumb of the toast she’d been nibbling on. “I beg your pardon.”
“Don’t think you can fool us,” Rose said. “We both heard you.”
Damn. She should have taken more care to remain quiet. But honestly, how could one worry about such things in the middle of sexual peaks as she’d enjoyed? He inevitably spent as she did, and she could hardly control his noises, either.
“It sounded as if you were hurled off several very high cliffs,” Anna said.