“With North.”
She nodded. “It was a choice between infamy and hanging–not a difficult one, and I was already somewhat notorious. It actually made me a more effective agent, for instead of being known as a tease, I was seen as a wanton who had given in and would do so again.”
Horrified but determined not to show it, Hadrian kissed her hair.
“Colwyn made me play chess all night to keep my mind off what I’d done. He also coached me for the next day’s role. I had to play a woman who had willingly given up all pretense of respectability and was rather pleased with herself.” She paused. “My last sop to the conventions—an aging aunt who lived with me—departed in disgust and hasn’t spoken to me since.”
Hadrian kissed her hair again. He wanted to kiss her lips, her throat, her breasts, kiss his way down her entire body and back up again. He wanted to kiss away the bad memories and the ruined reputation and make everything better.
“Colwyn and I decided to tell the truth about playing chess because it was sure to stick in people’s minds and make them less likely to connect me with Allsop.”
“And a highly successful distraction it proved to be.” Softly, aching with regret, he said, “I’m sorry I thought the worst of you. I don’t like being like everyone else.”
“And I wish I could be.” She sighed, leaning against him. “I wasn’t cut out for espionage. I just happened to be a so-called succubus, so they recruited me. They didn’t give me a choice.”
He cursed and tightened his arms around her. “Damn them.”
“It wasn’t always bad. Sometimes my work was useful, and they paid me adequately.”
“I should bloody well hope so.”
“I don’t have a bad life now,” she said. “I have a substantial pension and some good friends, such as Val’s wife, Lucie.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“Because the Mistress of the Succubi ordered me to. She said I deserved a chance to redeem myself in the eyes of the world, and spending some time at Staves was the best way to go about it.”
“That’s absurd. My father will never accept you.”
“I know, but the mistress gave me no choice. I suppose I even hoped, deep down, that she might be right—she usually is. Not this time.”
To redeem herself in the eyes of the world. A thought occurred to him, along with a memory from his conversation with North. He set it aside for later. “May I kiss you, Lettice?”
She stiffened in his embrace, just as he’d expected. “I should like that, but–”
He’d anticipated that ‘but’. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” She nodded. “Of what?”
She was silent for so long that when she finally answered, he suspected she wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Of—of roughness. Of force. Of being coerced and pawed and–and invaded.”
Poor girl, but he wasn’t surprised. “Of having your nipples tweaked.”
She gave a tiny snort of a laugh. “I pity your mother, if that’s what your father does to her.”
“In the dreams you sent me, you weren’t afraid.” He realized immediately that this wasn’t quite true. What about that touch of panic as he’d woken from the dream?
“In my imagination, I’m not,” she said. “I have control of what I envision.”
Or if she didn’t quite have control, she wanted it, he thought. “Then that’s what you need in reality as well–control.”
~ * ~
Transfixed, she repeated, “Control?”
Lord Hadrian removed his comforting arms from around her and lay back on the coverlet. He spread his arms. “Behold me, your toy to play with in whichever way you please.”
“Don’t be foolish,” she said automatically, while her mind toyed indeed with the astonishing concept of doing precisely as she wished with this man. She gazed down at him, at his broad, male body stretched out on the bed, at the dark, longish hair against the white pillowcase, at the enticement that was his mouth. At his large, warm hands. Imagining if, instead of holding her for comfort, those hands roamed and caressed and aroused. Desire kindled a flame in her core.
“It’s an excellent idea, if I say so myself.” Lord Hadrian shifted his hips, and the flame of desire flared in response. “My cock is already eager to play.” He raised a hand. “But whether or not my cock gets what it wants is entirely in your hands.”
“In my hands,” she echoed. She knew how to do that. Her hands had saved her virginity more than once.
“Or whichever other part of your body you wish to use,” he said. “Or you can ignore my cock entirely.”
“That would be inconsiderate.” How strange—she’d never thought of it that way before, but she’d never met a man who didn’t assume satisfaction was his due.
“Nonsense,” he said. “I can satisfy myself later if I truly feel the need. Tonight, here and now, is for you.”
Anxiety and yearning warred inside her beleaguered mind, while hot little flames licked through her body, relentless and insistent.
“I suggest you begin by kissing me,” he said.
Oh, yes. What made him so irresistible? His confidence, perhaps. His ease in his own skin, his acceptance of the sensual side of his nature. And a hundred other qualities that made up the whole man.
Desire spiraled up within her now, hot and tigerish, demanding to spring free, and yet fear still lingered, dousing the fires bit by relentless bit. She had to let the desire take hold—or lose this chance. She really had no choice, because if not now, then when? She had never before met a man she wanted in this way, and most likely never would again.
She smiled down at him, put one hand on either side of his shoulders and leaned in. She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth and withdrew. She gazed at his now slightly parted lips, and the desire in her core shimmered and grew. She kissed him again. His lips moved beneath hers, but oh so gently.
When she withdrew again, he licked his lips. “Your kiss intoxicates me. I want more.”
The movement of his tongue sent a heady thrill to her core. How fascinating… She’d found tongues to be slimy and repulsive in the past, but…not now. Not Hadrian’s. She leaned in again, probing at his lips, and encountered his tongue—just a swift dab and it was gone. She moaned; she wanted more, too.
He smiled against her lips, and now her mouth opened against his of its own volition, and their tongues danced together.
And still he lay quiescent, leaving it all up to her.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Please touch me,” she said, and froze, astonished. She’d never asked such a thing before.
“Touch you where?”
She swallowed. She tried to form an answer, but the thought of his hands…on her breasts, on her waist and bottom, on her thighs…made her shudder with desire so strong she could scarcely speak. “Anywhere. Wherever–wherever you wish.”
“Coward,” he teased, but he set one hand gently, firmly at her waist. The heat of his palm traveled through the cotton of her nightdress and washed up to her breasts and down to her core. He flexed the other hand. She watched it, fear and longing battling within her. He chuckled and stroked her hair.
He was right–she had to stop being a coward. She slid down beside him and put her arm around him, pulling him closer, and his arm tightened, slipping from her waist to her hip, and she gave herself to kissing him, because that, astonishingly, went so well. It’s like a conversation, she thought, a sensual exchange of pleasure. She slipped her tongue into his mouth. He made a strange sound, almost a growl, and caressed her tongue with his. They kissed and kissed, with tender nips and nibbles, then with open mouths and tongues.
Heat swelled and grew inside her, and still they were barely touching compared to what they might soon do. She broke the kiss, panting softly, and shifted closer until her breasts pressed against his chest. She caressed his leg with hers. His hand wandered from her hip to her bottom. He squeezed it gently through the nightdress and slid his fingers down the back of her t
high. A pulse began to beat in her core. Her leg lifted of its own volition, parting her thighs …
No, she wasn’t ready for that! She clamped her legs together, which made her throb even more. She shut her eyes, tormented by desire and fear, and forced her breathing to slow.
When she opened her eyes again, he was smiling tenderly up at her… No, that couldn’t be tenderness; that wasn’t in the range of expressions she saw on men’s faces. In any event, the bulge in his breeches showed that he was more than ready. Now that she had suppressed the panic, she took stock. She had to get out of this situation and think things through. She couldn’t bear to humiliate herself, as she surely would if he tried to bed her.
Very well–one of the usual methods would do. She would satisfy him and get it over with. She untucked his shirt, and immediately he sat up and tossed it over his head. Then he lay back again, his smile wicked now.
Oh, dear. She hadn’t meant him to undress; she’d just been getting the shirt out of the way. Wistfully, she took in the firm muscles of his chest and arms, the dusting of hair, the narrowing toward his hips. That pulse in her core called to her again, making her feel like the wanton she was thought to be. She knew an urge to straddle him, to rub herself against his erection–but since she didn’t have the courage to bed him, that would be unfair to him.
She went for the buttons of his breeches and opened them—slowly, as she’d been taught, one by one. He wasn’t wearing any smalls, and his cock sprang out. He had a pretty cock—so pretty that she knew an urge to kiss it, to take it in her mouth, an activity she’d shied away from wherever possible.
She ran her hand up and down his erection, toyed with the droplet of moisture at the end, pulled and caressed and then gave in to the prompting of her mouth and tongue. She leaned in and licked it. He hissed his pleasure. Encouraged, she licked it again and then took him into her mouth. This was the safest way, and it wouldn’t take long…
“No.” He lifted her away from him.
Dismay struck her. “You don’t like that?”
“Of course I like it, but what we’re doing tonight is for you, Lettice. What do you want to do?”
“I–” She pulled herself together. “You’re not playing fair. Earlier, you suggested I could do what I wanted with you.”
“Don’t try to convince me you want to suck my cock, because in this case I’m entirely justified in not believing it.”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t mind the idea at all.”
“Not minding is a far cry from wanting it. What do you want to do?”
She hesitated and at last whispered, “I don’t know.”
He eyed her. “I’ll do my best not to get you with child, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
She shook her head. “That’s not it.” He would probably conclude that she was barren, but she wasn’t about to explain that succubi were given herbs to prevent conception—not that she had ever needed them.
He shucked his stockings and breeches. His cock seemed slightly less eager than before, which made her want to weep. What was wrong with her? If kissing him was anything to judge by, she wouldn’t hate making love with him.
He hadn’t invaded her mouth like the others. He hadn’t well-nigh choked her with his tongue. On the other hand, he would have no choice but to invade her with his penis. That was how it was done. And if she let herself think about it, desire rampaged through her again, and her core throbbed with longing. It wouldn’t feel like an invasion with Hadrian—of that she was almost sure. She wanted it–she might even like it–so why couldn’t she do it?
Because her virginity was for her husband and no one else.
“We won’t take any risks tonight,” he said at last. “I shan’t enter you.”
She slumped back onto the pillows, dizzy with relief, but hurriedly sat up again. “Then you should put your clothing back on.”
“Why? I enjoy being naked, and you haven’t had anywhere near enough pleasure yet.” He took hold of the hem of her nightdress and pulled it over her head before she could muster the words to protest.
“How lovely you are.” His slow perusal of her body told her he meant every word. Her heart commenced a heady, languid beat.
He reached out and brushed one of her nipples with the back of his hand. She shivered as desire once again took hold. “That doesn’t frighten you,” he said.
“No.”
“Come then, let me pleasure you.” Again without waiting for her to dither, he pulled her close, laid her on the bedclothes, and touched her.
Everywhere.
His hot hands roamed her breasts, and then his lips took over, licking and sucking her nipples while his fingers crept lower. He toyed with the curls on her mound, spread her legs, and played with the sweet spot she had for so long denied.
Oh, God. Oh, God. She could never have imagined such delight. She moaned, twisting and thrusting beneath his hands, unable to control herself, unable even to think. She gave in to the pulsing and throbbing, to the waves and waves of pleasure, and cried out as she came to pieces under his able hands.
Gradually, the pulsing slowed. She opened her eyes. The tenderness on his face made her want to weep—except that it couldn’t possibly be tenderness, she reminded herself. Such a sweet emotion wasn’t in the range of her experience, so she should stop imagining it.
He smiled, gathered her close and kissed her. “Did you enjoy that?”
“You know I did,” she whispered.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now it’s time to go to sleep.”
“What about you?” He was as aroused as ever. She couldn’t just leave him like that.
“You’ll take care of me next time,” he said, yawning. “Or maybe the time after that.” He drew the blanket over them. “Good night, Lettice.”
“Goodnight, Hadrian,” she said, grateful but bewildered. A few minutes later his rhythmic breathing told her he was asleep.
It was long before she slept. She watched him in the candlelight, beautiful in repose, and realized with dismay that although she had not yet given up her virginity, she had surrendered something far more important—her heart.
How could there possibly be a next time? She couldn’t stay at Staves. To do so after spending the night with Hadrian would be a gross insult to his mother. Lettice resolved to speak to Colwyn in the morning. If he agreed to release her from the obligation to help him, she would take the stagecoach to London and have someone else sent in her stead.
On that decision she finally fell asleep. She woke to find Hadrian donning his clothing.
“Good,” he said, buttoning his breeches. “You’re awake.” What a fine-looking man he was, smiling down at her, his wicked grin setting her heart thudding and desire simmering in her core. She remembered his skillful hands and…
No—no matter how wonderful, she couldn’t expect that again. She would treasure the memory forever, but she had made her decision last night, and it was for the best. He didn’t love her; he merely desired her. He could find another mistress anytime. He would get on with his respectable existence, and she would return to her rather bleak one.
Hadrian put his shirt on and tucked it into his breeches. “I have something to tell you.” Something in his face and tone of voice unnerved her. Was it uneasiness? Well, soon enough she would put his mind at rest. She sat up, remembered she was naked, and dragged the sheet over her breasts. He chuckled.
Then the uneasiness crossed his face again. He cleared his throat and said, “I intend to tell my mother that we have decided to marry.”
“What? Why?” He couldn’t possibly wed her. It would cause a scandal of monumental proportions. And yet, her heart sped dizzily at the thought.
“So you won’t feel obliged to leave,” he said.
Reality crashed over her. This was merely a ruse, so they could have the ‘next time’ he’d promised last night. She fought away the disappointment. How foolish to even imagine marriage with Hadrian. Foolish as well to fall in
love with him, but she had done so, top over tail.
“Hers is the only opinion we need to consider,” Hadrian said. “My father’s dread of scandal means he will keep his mouth shut.”
“Your mother would never approve such a mésalliance. The very idea is absurd.” She had long ago accepted that her ruined reputation meant marriage was impossible; she mustn’t let herself yearn for it now. “I have no choice but to leave.”
“She will approve if I tell her that I have fallen in love with you.”
Her heart stuttered in her breast, hope soaring again and as quickly plummeting. No matter how tender his voice, he didn’t mean that. He was infatuated, nothing more, and had found a means to allow her to remain a little longer. He would tell his mother whatever would pacify her for the moment. “I don’t have to stay. I’ll ask Colwyn to excuse me from helping him.”
“Is that wise? Surely you don’t want to risk displeasing your employer. It will only be for a couple more days.”
A few days of pretending she had ensnared Hadrian into marriage. What a truly dreadful prospect, and yet loath as she was to participate in such a sham, she hated even more to displease the mistress. And most of all, the thought of leaving Hadrian so soon made her want to weep.
Before she could gather the courage to refuse, he blew her a kiss and left.
CHAPTER TEN
Hadrian met his mother storming down the corridor to his bedchamber in a rage. He opened the door to his room and ushered her inside. He had barely shut the door again when she cried, “Why didn’t you tell me, Hadrian?”
“Tell you what?” Hadrian asked. Her fists were clenched and her bosom heaved. In his usually even-tempered mother, these were alarming signs.
“You know perfectly well,” she began in typical female fashion. When he simply waited, she said, “Your father’s atrocious plan to further discredit Lettice.”
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