“Yes,” replied Robert Cooper, and his voice was husky.
It was then that India felt her bottom pressing into the apex of his legs against a hard appendage that fit there gloriously well. She closed her eyes tightly and let her mind travel up that apex to a flat stomach no doubt lined with a trail of hair that she could run her fingers through. She felt him lay his palms flat against her narrow hips and the drumbeat of her heart threatened to break through her small ribcage. “You said the stars have more beauty and bounty to offer than any earthly delights. Do you truly believe that?” she asked him.
“No,” he breathed.
She stood, and he took a step until her back was pressed firmly against his chest, where she could feel his heartbeat quicken, as well. “What has more bounty?”
“You.”
She turned and locked her green eyes with his blue ones. She saw no derision, no sick fascination. In the eyes of Duke Robert Cooper, India Augustina saw only an appreciation for the woman in front of him.
The first kiss was light, an experiment, almost. He tasted like water and felt soft underneath her lips. And then his arms wrapped around her waist and she melted into him like butter onto bread. He pressed his lips against her, then invaded the sanctity of her mouth with his tongue, rolling it against her. She tilted her head to accept it, to flick at it with hers, and felt her pulse skyrocket at the implied dance they were leading.
They pressed against each other until there was nowhere to go but each other. How small she felt in his arms, like a fragile porcelain doll. He felt her knees buckle beneath him and scooped her up in his powerful arms. She nested in him and for the first time since her mother left for the God-forsaken country beneath the sun, felt safe. It was a walk of but a few feet to the satin-covered fainting couch in the observatory room, but it felt for the entire world like a blissful eternity. He set her down and unbuttoned first his coat, then his breeches. With fingers that shook slightly to her surprise, she peeled off the few undergarments she had donned beneath her gown. It felt only right that they undressed themselves in tandem, and once her nether regions were bare, she was new transformed, powerful, and in control. Mixed in with the slight feeling of vulnerability at her new nudity, it was an altogether heady potion, and she sat on the edge of the couch, propping herself up on her hands and trying to regain control of her accelerating heartbeat.
He was even more beautiful bared to the world. When he bent to place his tan breeches on the floor, she caught sight of his naked behind and sucked in a breath. He had muscles in places she never thought anyone could; his finely sculpted rear was like a work of art, and the thickness of his thighs looked incredibly solid. She ached to dig her fingers into the meaty flesh and watch the small digits upend this strong man's control. Robert had a line of hair down his belly just like she imagined, and the small dimples in his abdomen rippled with the work of his muscles there as he knelt down in front of her, hands gathering the multitudinous folds of her gown.
The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. The small smile lifting the corners of his lips said, I know what I am doing and you need not worry about a single thing. It sent a rush to her head, that look, and as he slid his hands up her calves beneath her gown, she tilted her head back at the tingle that found its source at his hands and its path all the way up her legs. When he grasped her thighs roughly in his hands, she let out a small mew. She glanced down at Robert Cooper nude between her legs and discovered that her gown had found its way to her waist. She had spent many nights gazing at her nudity in the mirror, but not once had she given it the look of appreciation that Robert was now bestowing upon her naked privacy. He looked up at her as if he was a child receiving a gift, and when he bent his head back down, it was to plant a kiss on that wonderful new possession.
She sucked back a gasp at the sensation of his lips on her more private lips, hardly daring to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had any control over her. That was, after all, half the enjoyment. A hand crawled up her stomach to encompass a small, silk-covered breast, the nipple puckering against his hand involuntarily. He pushed her down until her back was flush with the couch, and continued his ministrations below her waist.
How strangely wonderful it was to be licked down there! She felt him run his tongue up and down her slit, and then back up until he could part her. The invasion was wet and sweet, and when he flicked his tongue inside of her, she thought she would lose her mind at the sensation. His tongue licked a firm path up outside of her until he found a puckered nubbin to flick it against, which he did, lightly and experimentally.
Her hips bucked. It was as if every nerve ending in her body came alive. It was all the signal he needed, and he continued to flick against her in an increasing crescendo of speed until animal moans issued from her throat in a continuing stream. She lost herself and grasped great handfuls of her gown, twisting and writhing on the coach as Robert made love to her with his mouth, an intense feeling building in her limbs until she was a mindless ball of pleasure, seeking release.
“Robert,” she whispered in her mindless state, and he placed his thumb on her to hold his place as he rose and held his member firmly against her entrance.
“Tell me you want this,” he said, nudging her with its head so that she jerked and gasped aloud. A moan escaped, unbidden from her lips. She did not want to say it, and yet she did. Saying it out loud would give over control entirely to him, and while she kept mum, power was still on her side. She thought she could hold on, but when he bent over her and took a silk-covered nipple in his mouth, cloaked his teeth with his lips, and bore down, liquid heat pooled at her core and she knew that the war was over.
“I want this, please, please,” she told him, and unexpectedly, there was no triumph in his face, only a sagging relief.
He entered her, stretching her full. A moment of pain, a slight pause so she could get accustomed to bearing his girth inside of her, and then Robert began to rock gently. She felt him begin to slide slickly in and out of her with an increasing tempo. He found the ridge inside of her that let slip the groans from her lips and worked against it, building up dizzying sensations inside of her the likes of which she recognized as faint memories of her own nightly escapades into the realms of sensual pleasure. But it was nothing like this, nothing like the weight of his body on top of her, knocking the breath out of her, building up the anticipation of what was yet to come, heightening all of the sensations. She wrapped her dusky legs around his waist to draw him deeper in, and their speed reached inhuman proportions. There was a sensation that time was circling all around them, reaching an inevitable conclusion that once climbed, held them both in a space above the world. She cried at the strength of her orgasm, submitting once and for all to a power that was above her as her body twisted and wracked at the pleasure skyrocketing through her entire being.
As they descended from their summit, Robert scattered kisses all the way down her neck and chest. He lay beside her on the couch, both of them breathing heavily, India with a newfound appreciation for her body, a new awareness of its nooks and crannies the likes of which she had not experienced before. Several of these magnificent romps later and they lay curled together on the tiny couch, the hair on his legs rubbing her smooth skin raw, a sensation she would not have traded for all the world, just like she would not trade his hands covering her breasts for anything, nor the sight of her pearly pink nipples peeking out from between his large knuckles. This was her man; she had chosen him before she was cognizant of it, and nobody else would ever love her as properly, she knew. She stroked his forearm lazily, and found her mind wandering towards the future, specifically hers.
“Tell me about what happened with the business deal in the states,” she told him.
Robert held back nothing. They were far beyond the he and the she, the nameless passion that brings two people closer together. He told her of the nefarious character who had promised him untold riches in the southern fields of the states, a plantat
ion of willing workers who would work twice as hard as the natives in India. When he arrived, he found the conditions provided for the workers unspeakable. It was only then that he considered what his own country was doing invading a colony of their own, but it was far worse across the ocean, for these people were being enslaved. There was no other word for it, and the highest point of inhumanity was that they all came from the same soil, and there was much to be said for brother against brother simply by virtue of a difference in skin color.
India felt something come over her, a willingness to bare herself in a new way to another person. It scared her, the strength of this feeling, and had she had just a touch more of insight about her, she would have recognized that she was feeling vulnerable and trusted Robert Cooper in a way she had trusted perhaps only her ama since her mother's departure.
“Do you know the truth about me, Robert?” she asked him cautiously, grasping his forearm more firmly as if she was boarding a ship on stormy waters, for in fact, she was.
“That you are beautiful, intelligent, and have me in your thrall?” he asked, nuzzling the sensitive hairs on her neck.
She closed her eyes to intensify the sensation, but then pushed it aside. If she held back now, she knew, she would never be able to share this with another person in her life. “Do you know about my parentage?”
“You mean the death of Lord Davenport? Everyone knows, darling, it is hardly common knowledge.”
She sat up, gathering her gown against her breasts, suddenly more nervous than she had ever been before in her entire life. “No, Robert. Lord Davenport is not my father.”
He sat up beside her and snaked an arm around her waist, sensing she needed his support. “I see. When did you find out?”
She turned to face him, but could not meet his eyes. “Right before my mother left for India.”
“I'm afraid I do not understand. I was in the states until recently, and I have never been one to indulge in tawdry gossip with society matrons, as you know.”
She told him everything. Of her mother and the sudden departure to a land where the sun burns bright. Of the letter which revealed the secret of her exotic eyes and skin, of the truth behind her mother's years of silence, of the cold nature of her relationship with the man India had believed to be her sire for so many long years. When she was finished, she trembled, and her heart thudded sickeningly with anticipation. Perhaps it had been foolish to trust Duke Cooper so.
He paused for a few minutes, which seemed to last for ages, and India thought she would completely lose her mind. She was awaiting a judgment, one she had never been strong enough to cast upon herself.
“It must have been incredibly difficult for your mother to live with such a weight upon her soul for so long” was all he said when finally he spoke.
India felt a low, loose hiss of relief exit her body. “You think my mother has a soul?” she asked him.
His bright blue eyes contained a great deal of shock. “Of course she has. Granted, leaving her daughter amidst such a scandal was less than honorable, but she waited eighteen long years to follow her heart's true desire. She was never untrue to your father, and she did not leave you in dire straits,” he said pragmatically.
How wonderful it felt to be validated this way. India had been loath to admit just how abandoned she had felt when her mother left her behind in London to deal with the scandal she left in her wake, but she had never been able to bring herself to hate her. She had been a fascinating creature, and she had done everything she could to make India the woman she was to this day. India threw her arms around the broad shoulders of Robert Cooper and hugged him tightly to her body in a way that had nothing to do with the nakedness of their bodies, but everything with the nudity of their hearts.
“Thank you, Robert,” she told him quietly, and felt him smile into the curls of her hair.
He stood and walked over to the telescope to try and isolate yet another celestial body. India lay back on the couch and studied his nude form bent over the instrument he adored so much, her heart beating hope against hope until she could contain a few thoughts no longer.
“What do you think your new life here at home will bring you, Robert?” she asked him.
At first she thought he had not heard her, but a few moments later, he spoke. “I have no interest in pursuing the tea business after what I saw happening in the states, obviously. I thought perhaps I could devote myself to the study of science and flesh out this idea I had about a tea press that might save lives and hours of labor, streamlining the East India Company's process.”
“That sounds wonderful. And what of the rest of your life?” She heard the wistful note in her voice and pushed it back.
He glanced up at the domed roof of the observatory, squinting to make something out. “I hardly think I am suited for anything domestic, truth be told. I have far too much wanderlust and restlessness in me to be content with such a situation for very long.”
How casually he said this, how quickly dashed her hopes! India tried to steel herself against the feeling of grief, but she could not. For it was what she had known about Robert Cooper from the first minute he laid his wolf-like eyes on her, what attracted her in the first place. Predators always hunt alone.
The carriage ride back was a lonely one, although her duke sent her off with a passionate kiss. She knew then that this night of passion would be much like her mother's—a glaring singularity in her life. She had not thought herself so traditional, so willing to abide by the standards and rules of the ton, but she knew she was done with scandal forever. Whatever she had been thrust into was not her fault, and she would not impose on herself a more marginalized existence. It was back to the drawing board, if only she could erase the memories of this night, although she was not entirely sure she wanted to.
As the night drew close about her, she realized it would be only the memories of the passion of this night that would hold her through the years unless she managed to find yet another lord or duke who could supersede it. The other future was too uncertain, too tenaciously planned to offer much consolation. India Augustina would continue her search, if only her mind and body could move on.
* * *
His name was Richard Luxloston and he was a lord.
India straightened the white lace veil around her and looked at herself with satisfaction in the mirror. If any one of the society matrons would have told her two months ago that she, India Augustina Davenport, would be marrying a lord, she would have shot one of her haughty looks directly into their faces and kept right on sashaying through their midst.
After her ill-fated affair with Robert Cooper, she had thrown herself into the social scene. It appeared that after coming-out soiree, all the lords had taken it upon themselves to have their mothers, aunts, and various assorted female relatives to issue her the most sought-after invitations in London. The calling cards came pouring in; it appeared no one on the London scene could quite believe the daughter of scandal could be such an aloof and accomplished lady. Lord and Lady Davenport had congratulated themselves on a successful display of their granddaughter and attributed nothing to the young lady herself; this did not matter, however, for India knew the truth.
She knew that every night, they dreamt of her.
And she, in turn, dreamt every night of a certain blue-eyed duke.
She could not help it. Every gentleman she spoke to looked at her appreciatively, it was certain, but she looked only for Robert in every face she saw. Certainly, he had attempted to contact her many times after their night together, but she had avoided him as surely as the plague. She felt blessed on many a level that he had not gone public with their affair, although she would have hardly pegged him as that manner of man to begin with. Eventually, the cards stopped coming and Robert Cooper himself had arrived at her doorstep, barreling past her butler and coming head to head with a much fiercer, if significantly shorter, ama.
“I wish to speak to the young Lady Davenport,” she heard him demand
outside of her bedroom door.
“She does not wish to speak to you,” growled her ama, a note in her voice well-known to her charge. Duke Cooper, however, was unfamiliar with the warning signals of an Indian woman on the prowl, and decided to tread further on her ground.
“I do not care. She cannot simply vanish into thin air.”
“She has not vanished. She has vanished for you. Understand?”
Robert apparently did not understand, for she heard the sound of his knock on her door even as her light-footed ama scurried away. “India! India that is enough! If you wished to end our liaison, then you simply could have said so!”
And then he let out a yowl that had India suppress a hefty giggle. She heard her ama brandishing a broom and thwacking the illustrious duke straight over the head. “Vanish! You understand? You no-good, non-marrying, goodbye!”
He left, and then it was not quite so funny to India anymore.
She weaved through the crowds of lords and ladies like one in a dream. It seemed that everywhere she went, her heart would leap if she thought she saw him, and it never was. Until one day, quite unexpectedly, the apparition became a reality. It was at Lady Loxloston's manor that Robert Cooper appeared suddenly, and without saying a word, grasped India firmly by the elbow and dragged her off with such skill that he made it appear as if she was following him willingly.
When he finally got her alone on a remote balcony, she could feel the anger rolling off of him in great waves. He looked even finer than the last time she saw him, the small lines gathering at the corners of his eyes begging for her touch to smooth them out.
“Are you going to bloody well tell me why you have been dodging me for so long?” he snarled.
India felt trapped. It would be foolish to pretend as if that had not been exactly what she had been doing. “Robert, I cannot continue on with our dalliance,” she said to him, forthright, cutting through all the nonsense.
He looked as if the wind had been knocked out from him. “And why the devil not?”
ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) Page 112