Sense & Sensuality: Caroline's After Dark Georgian Romance (The Gravesmeres Book 3)

by Alicia Quigley

  “My dear Caroline!” she exclaimed. “You see me, prepared to act as chaperone to our cousin. What a pity you have business to attend to.”

  “I apologize for inconveniencing you,” said Caroline. “But it cannot be helped. Some nonsense about the household at Eskmaine.”

  As Allegra greeted the other occupants of the room and kissed Cecilia fondly on the cheek, Caroline quietly made her excuses. As she left, she heard Allegra expounding on the drive they would take in the park, to Cecilia’s delighted agreement.

  She closed the door of the salon behind her and paused a moment, but then marched quickly down the stairs. “My carriage, Bunton,” she said. “I must be on my way.”

  Chapter 8

  Not so many minutes later she found herself on the doorstep of Gresham’s house in Mount Street. She had told her carriage to return in three hours, and she almost wished she could spend longer. Feeling just a twinge of naughtiness, she fished the key out of her reticule and fitted it into the lock. It turned, and as she stepped into the hallway with its black and white marble floor, she paused for a moment, remembering what had last happened in this space.

  “I thought of it too,” said Lord Gresham. “Would you care to start here and now, or do you prefer the bedroom?”

  Caroline looked up to see him lounging in the doorway of the drawing room. He had already removed his coat, and loosened his lace cravat. In his shirtsleeves, with a well-cut waistcoat outlining his fit torso and showing off his broad shoulders, he looked very approachable, and she found herself aching to touch him.

  “Are those my only choices?” she asked in as light a tone as she could muster. Trying not to seem too eager, she stripped off her hat and gloves and laid them on the table.

  “Ah, you have no idea how much I’ve looked forward to this.” Lord Gresham came forward and took her hand, turning it over as he conveyed it to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I have some refreshments in the salon; please join me.”

  “Refreshments? Are there servants about?” asked Caroline anxiously.

  “They were here earlier, but they are gone now,” Lord Gresham assured her. “Come, my dear.”

  He led her into the sitting room, where a lovely repast of tiny sandwiches and cake were laid out, as well as wine. Gresham poured her a glass, and handed it to her with a flourish.

  “Are you trying to make me drunk?” she asked teasingly.

  “In my experience with you, that is not necessary. I only wish to fortify you for our activities.” He proffered a plate of cakes, and she took one, taking a bite and savoring the delicate flavor.

  “Come, sit by me,” he said, leading her to a brocaded settee. He poured himself some wine, and then held his glass up to her. “To you, Caro.”

  She returned his toast and put her glass down, unsure how to continue. “Tristan…” she said.

  “Caro?”

  “You didn’t meet me here just to feed me, did you?”

  “I did not, though it isn’t an unpleasant thought. But today I thought you might like to set the pace.” He looked down into her surprised eyes. “What would please you, Caro?”

  She smiled shyly, but without hesitation reached out and laid her hand on his chest, as she had been longing to do so since she had entered the house. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, and she slid her hand down to his stomach and leaned forward until her lips met his. Her kiss was very gentle at first, but quickly turned passionate as he responded. Caroline found herself kissing Tristan fiercely, and almost before she realized it, she had pushed him against the back of the settee. Somewhat shocked at her eagerness, she moved as if to back away from him, but Tristan grabbed her wrists.

  “Don’t fret, I like a woman who is not shy about her needs,” he said.

  Caroline looked at him speculatively. She’d never had a man invite her to work her will on him, and the thought was suddenly intriguing. It was also somewhat intimidating, as the Earl of Eskmaine had never set the sheets of their marital bed on fire. She bit her lip. “Take off your waistcoat, please,” she said softly.

  Tristan’s smile broadened and he began to unfasten the figured brass buttons that adorned his dark green silk waistcoat, his eyes on her face. Caroline watched avidly, feeling her excitement rising. Gresham was taking his time with the buttons, and, losing patience, she pushed away his hands, and opened them herself. She pushed the waistcoat over his shoulders and he shrugged out of it; the fine lawn of his shirt allowed her to see the dark curls on his chest, and his flat nipples. She reached out, spreading his collar, and rubbing her palms over his chest, moving down from his shoulders to pull his shirt out of his trousers, and lift it up.

  “Take off your shirt,” she ordered, when Tristan made no move to help. He complied quickly and discarded it, while Caroline watched the play of his abdominal muscles and shoulders. She savored the sight of his arms and torso, the lean, yet strong physique of a man who spent hours in the saddle, and in the fencing salon, as well as in the ballrooms of London. With the shirt gone, she could see the definition of his pectoral muscles, the ridges of his abdomen, and then the arrow of hair that disappeared into his breeches, which now contained a sizable bulge. She cupped it in one hand, and leaned forward to lick a flat brown nipple. Tristan groaned.

  “Dear Caro, one of us is wearing far too much clothing. Do you suppose we could dispense with some of yours?”

  “Both of us are wearing too much clothing,” she agreed. “Won’t you undress me?”

  She turned her back to him, and he fell to unfastening her gown, until moments later, she wore only a fine linen chemise, trimmed in lace, and her garters and stockings.

  “Who is overdressed now?” she laughed, and opened his breeches, to free his substantial erection, stroking its silk over steel length with her hand.

  “What do you want next, Caro?” Tristan asked. “I want to hear you tell me.”

  Although she hadn’t thought she could feel much more excitement, Caroline found herself melting. “Kiss me--touch my breasts,” she whispered.

  Tristan obeyed with alacrity, drawing her close to his chest to kiss her deeply. Caroline saw his fine textured skin, and grey eyes, then closed her own as he slanted his mouth across hers. Pressing her lips open, his tongue invaded her mouth, and tangled with hers, the slippery friction making her squirm on the settee, as her nipples tightened, and she felt the jolt of desire arrow through her, while his hardness pressed against her belly.

  “Lift up,” he commanded, and when she rose slightly, he pulled the chemise over her head. Caroline was faintly shocked to realize that she sat naked in full daylight in a gentleman’s drawing room, but when Tristan’s lips covered one full pink nipple, suckling and drawing on it, as his fingers caressed the other, she found all of her attention riveted on the man who was giving her such pleasure. She looked down at his dark hair against her full, white breasts and reached a hand between them to caress his cock, as she pressed her chest towards him, silently asking for more.

  “You have the most beautiful breasts, Caro,” he said. “So full and firm, and I could suck on these big nipples all day.” He matched his actions to his words, licking and nibbling and sucking until she felt as though she might climax. Finally she pulled away from him gently, and when he sat up to look at her inquiringly, she pushed him back against the arm of the settee.

  A slow grin emerged on his face. “So you enjoy this business of taking charge.”

  “I find I do,” she replied. “Why don’t you take off those breeches?”

  As he did, Caroline took a moment to enjoy the sight of his flat stomach tapering into narrow hips, while the muscles of his strong thighs and tight behind flexed as he removed his garments. When he sat down again, Caroline knelt, straddling him. “Are you ready for me?” she asked.

  “I think you can see how ready I am, my sweet, but perhaps we should make sure you are, too.” He reached out to stroke her intimate curls, drawing his hand over the sof
t flesh between her thighs, and then slipping a finger between her folds to feel the creamy moisture that was drenching her. He skated his finger back and forth gently, smoothing around the sensitive center of her pleasure, in a way that soon had Caroline leaning forward to clutch his shoulders for support. He took advantage of it to take one nipple between his lips, and bit down lightly, and Caroline felt herself suddenly explode with rapture, as a climax washed over her.

  Tristan laughed softly as he withdrew his hand. “I hope that you’re going to want a little more of that, as I’m in a lamentable state.”

  “I definitely want much, much more of you,” Caroline answered, shifting to lower herself onto his erection. She slid down a few inches, as she held him in place, then lifted up slightly, then slipped down a fraction further.

  Tristan groaned at her teasing, and seemed to decide that he had been passive long enough. Gripping her behind, he lifted her and spread her thighs wider, and then plunged up into her as he pushed her down onto himself. Caroline gave a little cry of pleasure as he filled her. She bent down to kiss him as she slowly rose again, and then lowered herself on him. Tristan felt her slick channel clinging to him, and urged her to move faster, as her muscles tightened around him. He pushed up, driving himself into her deeper and harder, until he felt her clenching around him, and saw the flush of heat on her bosom and chest. As she rose, he slipped his hand between them, touching the sensitive flesh where they were joined, and pressing against the seat of her passion. As Caroline shrieked her pleasure, and collapsed on his chest, biting at the powerful muscle where shoulder and neck meet, Tristan felt himself come with a violence that surprised him, and which seemed to go on and on, as she spasmed around him.

  For some moments, silence reigned in the drawing room, as they both struggled to catch their breath, and regain some measure of composure. Caroline spread herself across his firm chest, every muscle limp with pleasure and relaxation.

  After some moments Tristan reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. She gave a tiny sigh of contentment.

  “How lovely you are,” he said. “Are you glad you returned?”

  She nodded. “And you? Are you glad as well?”

  “I would hardly have risked drawing attention to us at the rout last night if I had not wanted you here. And you have exceeded my expectations once again. I am indeed glad.” His hand reached out to cup her breast, and she arched her back slightly, seeking further contact. He chuckled.

  “There is no hurry, Caro. Relax.” Without releasing her breast, he reached out with his other hand and took a tiny cake from the table. “Open,” he ordered, and when she did, he popped it into her mouth, following it closely with a kiss. “I need you to keep your strength up.”

  Caroline swallowed and then reached down, pulling his head up, brushing his lips gently with hers. “I don’t need nourishment,” she whispered. “I need you.”

  “I’m only too happy to oblige,” said Tristan. “Shall we stay here?”

  “Or?” asked Caroline.

  “I would like to have you in every room in this house. Twice,” he said. “Or three times. All in all, I could happily lock you away naked, permanently, for my own pleasure.” The idea of Caroline naked and waiting for him clearly pleased and excited him, for she could feel him hardening beneath her as he spoke. She wriggled against him. “But for now, I don’t believe I can wait,” he continued.

  He stood and drew her to her feet, and her eyes widened when she saw that he was fully erect again. She reached out and grasped him, her fingers closing over his thickness, and squeezed gently, and he drew in his breath.

  “Patience, poppet,” he said, removing her hand. “This time, I will take charge.”

  He drew her to the far side of the settee, and turned her so she faced it, urging her to lean forward over its back. She looked questioningly at him over her shoulder, but he only grinned and ran his hands lightly over her buttocks, then reached forward with two fingers and penetrated her, his other hand moving to grasp one breast. She gasped and thrust her hips toward him, seeking to give him greater access. He pressed his fingers against a sensitive spot inside her, and Caroline arched her back, pushing against his questing fingers.

  “That’s it, darling,” Tristan said. “How quickly you understand me.”

  He removed his fingers and thrust deeply into her with one long stroke, as she groaned low in her throat. Caroline’s breathing grew agitated as he slid in and out of her, his large hands covering both breasts now, his chest moving against her back.

  “The curtains are open,” he said conversationally. “Someone walking by the house might see us, if they cared to look in the window.”

  Caroline barely heard him through the haze of her desire, and her only reaction was a moan of enjoyment. At this point it seemed to her immaterial who saw them, so long as Tristan did not cease his ministrations.

  “I see you are unconcerned about discovery,” he continued. “Perhaps we should find a secluded spot in Green Park, and I will lift your skirts against a tree, and allow you to hope that only the cows observe us.”

  Caroline pushed harder against him in response. “At the moment, I might not notice an entire herd of cattle in this drawing room,” she gasped.

  “You are truly a mystery, Caro,” he said. “So prim one minute, so wanton the next. Almost I am jealous, wondering if you’re like this with others. Perhaps you are sharing your favors all over London.”

  “I am not,” Caroline managed to pant, as he stroked deeper into her and stayed there one long, breathless moment, before easing out very slowly. She clenched her muscles trying to draw him back in, and made a frustrated noise when she realized that their position made it impossible for her to grasp him with her hands.

  “I will have to make sure I occupy all your free time, so that you will have no opportunity to share this with another man,” said Tristan. He remained still, just barely penetrating her, and stroked her silky bottom with one hand, while with the other he squeezed one nipple. She gave a small cry of excitement. He began to ease in again, very slowly.

  “Shall we meet every day?” he asked. “Do you think you can make time for this? You seem to enjoy it.”

  “I cannot,” she said faintly.

  “Cannot?” he said. He eased in a bit more, and she struggled to move backwards in order to draw him in more fully, but he held her still with one hand. “Surely you can find time for something you enjoy this much. Or do you prefer to gossip with Society matrons and talk to Miss Ashdown’s suitors?”

  “Not at all,” she protested. “Please, Tristan.”

  “Then you must agree to meet me here every day,” he said, beginning to pull out of her.

  “I promise,” she said fervently. “Only do not stop.”

  “That is what I wished to hear,” said Tristan, and he moved into her again swiftly, pushing her forward with a jolt, filling her so far that she thought she could barely contain him. She gave a cry of pleasure as she climaxed, shaking, her arms barely supporting her, and he joined her, pumping into her with his own violent release.

  “What a pity I could not see your face,” he murmured. “You’re so lovely when you come.”

  Caroline felt as though she must collapse, and Tristan wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight and stroking her hair. “So beautiful,” he said, as he drew her towards a large chair by the fire, seating himself and pulling her down into his lap. He picked up his coat, which he had earlier flung over the back of the chair, and draped it over her. “I will have to see about having coverlets placed in this room. Are you comfortable?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, snuggling down into his lap, her head resting on his chest. “Thank you, Tristan.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m not sure I’ve ever been thanked so politely for something I had so much pleasure in giving.” He dropped a kiss into her golden curls. “Tell me, Caro, are you glad you came back here?”

  “I am,” she said simply. �
��This is so wonderful, having this time with you.”

  “Tell me about your days; or at least your days when you aren’t with me,” said Tristan. “What do you take pleasure in? Besides that,” he said, grabbing her questing hand as it reached for his cock. “I wish to know more about you.”

  Caroline shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell. I spend time each morning with my son; he is a lovely boy, and so clever. I hope that he will be a worthy heir to his father’s estate. Then I breakfast; now that Cecilia is here we shop or pay calls, or are called upon. Perhaps we drive in the park, and then have dinner, and then attend a ball or other entertainment. I dance, or converse, and I introduce Cecilia to eligible young men…” Her voice trailed off. “It does sound dull, doesn’t it?”

  “But surely you do some things for your own pleasure. What do you like to do best?”

  “I like it best when I’m at Eskmaine or Gravesmere and can take long walks through the countryside,” said Caroline softly. “It is so lovely in the summer when the days are long. Both houses have wonderful libraries; my father made sure I was taught to read Latin and Greek, and the classics are always a source of inspiration for me.”

  “I would not suspect you to be a scholar,” said Tristan lightly, running his finger down her collarbone.

  “Oh, I’m not a scholar. I merely enjoy reading. Father used to say that if you could read you’d always be able to amuse yourself. I don’t like being bored.”

  “I will try never to bore you,” said Tristan.

  “Infuriate me, more likely,” teased Caroline. “I can promise you that you have never bored me; it is not an emotion I associate with you in any way.”

  “I am relieved,” he said dryly.

  “And what do you like to do?” she asked.

  “I have it upon the best authority that I’m interested only in drinking, gambling, and wenching,” he replied.