The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection 6

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  He did at least start out well, though, so that anyone could see he had once been an exceptionally talented player.

  But soon he let out several huge yawns, and asked if she minded him having a nap.

  "No, not at all. I'll lie down with you if you like."

  "I do like, very much." He stripped his shirt off, and pulled the fastenings on her gown and the ribbons on her chemise. He feasted on her breasts for a time until sleep claimed him.

  She stroked his face as he lay in peaceful repose, his head cradled against her so intimately she was moved to tears. He looked so harmless and innocent as he slumbered, as though he hadn't a care in the world.

  She has shared so much with him already that even if she had wished to remain aloof from him, not give her heart to him for feat of getting hurt, how could she not love him?

  Yet this was a different kind of danger than she had ever imagined when they had first met. He had told her he'd never shared his life with a woman. Yet it seemed hard to imagine this paragon of male virtue and desirability didn't have a wife or fiancee anywhere.

  But surely he would have mentioned it, recalled something of his past domestic life? He had sworn he had never lived with a woman, and had been shy about so many things which suggested he was telling the truth. Then there was his overall character. The little she did know about him had helped her form the opinion that he did not seem the type who would go out of his way to lie in order to seduce. His story had been consistent since they had met, even if there wasn't a lot he could remember.

  She sighed, knowing she had well and truly leaped before she had ever looked. She had no one to blame except herself if she got hurt emotionally. After all, she was the one who had insisted upon helping him.

  He had begged her to leave for her own sake, fearing himself a threat to her, but not because he was committed elsewhere. It would be a risk, but one she was prepared to take along with all the others. It would be on her own head if she ended up with a broken heart.

  But she simply had to trust him completely. All of her instincts told her this was true love, and she ought to grab it with both hands, extraordinary though the whole situation might seem to most rational people. But then, love had nothing to do with rationality...

  Simon had done nothing but help her; he had never tried to deceive her. She would just have to be subtle about finding out more about him.

  She pushed her insecurities to one side, determined they would not spoil the joy she was sharing with Simon even in these most grim circumstances.

  All she had to know now was he needed her and seemed to adore her for herself. It was a lovely feeling. One she was never going to give up willingly. For as the passion welled up between them with the least touch or glance, she most certainly needed him too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Simon awakened refreshed a couple of hours later, Gabrielle was tempted to ask him for further details about his life. However, she forced herself to refrain. A frown of pain between his rare golden eyes was enough to ready her for another onslaught.

  It came all too soon, and she repeatedly cleaned him with the by now tepid water and tried to give him some of the herbs Eswara Jerome had suggested.

  But he was almost continuously ill for the rest of the morning, until they were both nearly exhausted. Finally she bathed his face with some camphor oil and water, which soothed his aching head and relaxed him.

  "Better now?"

  "Just come here and hold me. I'm so cold," he said through chattering teeth.

  She drew him into his arms, wrapping herself around him like a blanket.

  From warming him with her body to making love was only a small step. This time she lay flat on top of him, rotating her hips to plunge him deeply into her, until the only sensation for him was pure delight. His trembling turned from chilled to heated, and Simon rasped his need for her more and more urgently until they both spiralled out of control and tipped over the edge.

  "Concentrate on this, this only," she gasped.

  "It's the only thing that makes my life bearable. That you don't find me disgusting. But you're so young. You don't know what men can be," he said, cupping her to him fiercely, never ceasing in his movements even though they had both already shared the ultimate bliss.

  "Then tell me. Tell me what this is, what it means."

  He gazed at her so intently she was sure he was looking right into her soul. "Ever since we met, I can't go a single moment of the day or night without thinking about you. I get so hard sometimes I just want to wrap myself around your body and thrust into you until you can't do anything but shout my name and beg me for more.

  "I want your breasts filling my hands, your nipples between my lips, my cock between your thighs as I ride you from one end of the night to the other, sometimes at a canter, other times at a gallop, until we're both so lathered with sweat and our mingled essence that they couldn't pull us apart even if they tried.

  "I want to hear you pant with passion, make those wonderful mewling noises when you come. They're so exciting it's like putting your hands on my jewels and rubbing. One touch of your hand there and I feel like the base of my skull and top of my head are going to burst. Just the thought of you wrapping your divine ruby red lips around me drives me right to the edge."

  As he continued to move within her, she felt herself being driving right to the edge as well, completely lost in the wondrous madness of their desire.

  "I can barely breathe for wanting you, Gabrielle," he continued, pouring his soul out to her even as he poured all his passion into her. "Yet the fragrance of your wonderful essence is as necessary to me as air.

  "And your taste. Every part of you, from the lovely little crease behind your ears, to the ones at the backs of your knees, is like honey. It's all more addictive than the opium.

  "As for your tight, glistening rosette of bliss, well, I've never seen or felt anything most wondrous in my life. The way you sheathe me like the perfect scabbard. The way you move under me, match your body to mine, it's pure poetry. Utter perfection. And now we're both going to explode together again in the most perfect rapture."

  She was completely mesmerised by his words. "Oh, yes Simon, yes please. More. Harder. Deeper."

  "Certainement. Plus fort. Plus profound. Ah, Gabrielle. My love."

  Pinned beneath his driving hips, she urged him on by clutching his muscular buttocks and digging her nails in. Then she felt it, the white hot lightning of sensation liquifying her bones, permeating her feminine centre until she was no more than an urgently needy and even greedy crucible in which he melted and poured his molten essence.

  The inferno of orgasm burnt through her, filling her throat, her belly, scorching up to the top of her head and down to her toes.

  The fire boiled and churned through his loins and veins, igniting every inch of his flesh. His massive head swelled and sent the flames washing through her, and she sobbed helplessly, convinced they would be locked in this maddeningly scorching moment for all eternity.

  The conflagration consumed all before it, leaving nothing in its wake but two spent, quivering bodies, and a kiss of such tenderness that both wept with joy until a blissful somnolence finally claimed them.

  Simon was strangely subdued the next morning, but not nearly as ill.

  After a time she could stand the silence and his seeming avoidance of her gaze no longer, and asked gently, "What is it? Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine. It's just, well, I was worried I might have hurt you last night. I remember your tears."

  She immediately threw her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek. "No, it wasn't because you hurt me. It was from the overwhelming emotion. I never imagined anything like that could exist and well, I know it sounds absurd, but I'm so happy here with you, my love."

  He gave her a warm smile which lit his face and took her breath away. "I can't tell you how relieved I am. And I'm sorry if I shocked you. I never imagined I could ever say such things to any woman. Things s
o, well, heated. But I wanted everything to be honest between us."

  She beamed at him. "It was all wonderful."

  "And now I have another confession to make. I can't stop looking at your breasts and bottom. Thinking of you all damp and moist and ready for me under than skirt."

  She smiled impishly. "Well, why don't you see for yourself if I am. And if I'm not ready enough yet, I'm sure there are a couple of things you can do to make me so. So long as you let me do the same for you."

  "Oh, no really, it's..."

  She put his hand on her left breast and slid her own nimble fingers down his thigh to leave him in no doubt that she was in earnest. "The love we make, you and I mingled, our love conjoined, it's beautiful. You're beautiful, and I'm so glad you're not ill today."

  "I feel very light-headed, but I think it's still a residual aspect of whatever happened between us last night. It was like a volcano erupting, and I just couldn't stop."

  "I noticed. I was there with you. It was magnificent."

  He winked at her. "And something I would like to spend the rest of my life trying to surpass."

  She laughed in delight. "No complaints from me, except that Clarissa will be here soon. So let me just tiddle you until she arrives."

  But she was already on her back on the cot before she even knew he had moved.

  "No, definitely not wet enough," he said, his voice muffled by the skirts over his head.

  "Oh, you must be teasing. I feel like I'm gushing like a geyser."

  He was already licking and caressing her to madness once more. "Wonderful. I adore nectar and honey for breakfast."

  "You're so wicked."

  "Only with you, pet."

  She nearly fainted as he hauled one foot onto his shoulder and began to massage it with his hand as he devoured the peaks and valleys between her thighs. The other leg followed, opening her up to him completely. Oddly, she felt no shame, no reservations. It was as if they were suspended in one perfect moment in time, and she was willing to make the most of it, for who knew how long it would last.

  He rubbed his way down her ankles and calves to her knees with alternating hands, while all the while tasting, teasing and testing with his fingers. He tapped her questing nubbin with his fingers and then nibbled it with his teeth until she shamelessly rammed her hips upwards and took in all of his tongue.

  He glided it in and out, and wiggled it until she squealed and cried out. He only stopped when they could hear footsteps approaching.

  She sprang off the bed and ducked behind the door and tried to calm her rapid breathing and pulse. She had been so close....

  She could feel her nipples thrusting through the fabric of the gown, her pearlescent honey saturating her thighs. She had to press them together to stop them from trembling.

  It was only the food tray for Simon. As soon as she heard the scrape of the metal and the footsteps recede, she came out from behind the makeshift curtain in relief.

  He stared at the odd light in her eyes as she came towards him, flattened him on the bed, and yanked his trousers down. She took his huge length and width in her hands worshipfully for a moment before bending her head.

  "And I adore sausage from breakfast. I'm going to devour every morsel."

  Finally he begged hoarsely to take him in before he spent, and she slid down upon him at last. She had wanted to simply pounce and straddle him from the moment she'd come out from behind the curtain, but he was just as deserving of teasing and prolonged pleasure as she. She huffed out a little breath as he drove right up into her, and then she was yanking open her chemise.

  "My breasts, please."

  He massaged them to even more urgent fullness and she angled herself so that the thick ridged veins of his shaft glided against her folds and peaks with the maximum friction.

  He struggled to stay with her, and drove on, watching her climax once, twice three times. Finally she was about to collapse on top of his chest when he rasped, "N'arrête pas!"

  Through her passion-induced haze the meaning of the words filtered through.

  "N'arrête pas! Don't stop!"

  He was grabbing at her hips to push them up and down even more urgently, and gave the command again more raggedly. "N'arrête pas!"

  He flipped her onto her back and dragged her knees up around his shoulders. Now he felt so full inside her she almost couldn't move. A few careful movements in and out slicked him enough to proceed and then she was almost screaming at the powerful sensation, so much so that he clamped one hand over her mouth as he watched her in awed fascination.

  "Go on, cherie, come for me again. Go on, do it again."

  "I can't," she panted, feeling as if her whole body was unravelling with desire.

  "I'm going to leave you if you don't do it for me again." He started to withdraw slowly, but she begged him to wait.

  "There you are. I can feel your quivering as you take in all of me. Oh, lovely. Do you feel what you're doing to me? And now this? Can you feel me? I'm going to pour into you like a torrent. Are you ready for me?"

  "Oh, yes," she gasped.

  "Then come for me again. That's right. Gorgeous."

  Her body tautened desperately. She could feel the tension vibrate in every part of her body. She climaxed again, but the sensation only seemed to build.

  "That's right, another one for me. Go on, another one. I'm not going to let you go until you let me have another one. Oh, that's right, squeeze me right there. Oh, this is heaven. Come for me, love, come all over me. Surround me, devour me."

  She did then, and felt her whole body floating upwards on a buoyant white cloud. She finally wafted back down to earth clutched tightly in his arms as he too allowed himself the ultimate joy at last.

  When she could speak she said, "They might have said you were mad, but I must have something wrong with me to be like, well, like this." She swept down the bed with one hand.

  He shook his head, smiling at her lovingly. "There's nothing wrong with it. It's beautiful. Don't fear it. It's part of your infinite power as a woman. Only an inferior or selfish man would not understand that. You flow over me like a river and I never want to leave your body."

  "You never shall. I can feel you within me always."

  He sighed, and his golden eyes grew shadowed with concern. "That may be true already. I mean, your friend gave you those sponges we discussed the other day, but we've been most lax and..."

  She kissed his cheek and gave her most reassuring smile. "I'm not afraid. I know things will be just fine no matter what happens. As soon as you're well, we'll leave here and start anew. Maybe even get married some day if that's what you'd like."

  He kissed her hard. "I want that more than anything in the world. But as for leaving, and..."

  "One day at a time," she advised him, not wanting to spoil the moment. "You're still in the throes of the addiction."

  "I think I'm rapidly developing a new one," he said, stroking her bare belly and nuzzling her neck.

  "Not a harmful one, anyway," she panted.

  "Only if I get too carried away."

  She shook her head and smiled up into his earnest face. "Not even then. I know I'm very new to all this, but it feels, well, perfect. Strange too, but perfect. I think we're well-matched. So long as you don't keep driving me to climax like that and er, holding your own pleasure back all the time. I want to make you the happiest man in the world."

  Simon kissed her on the brow and held her close. "You have. Pray God we will have many more days and nights like this. But I fear..."

  She silenced him with one finger on his lips. "I know. So do I. But we will find a way, I swear. Rest now."

  "They will come," he said quietly.

  "I know," she said with a sigh, stroking his shoulder. "I do believe you, my love. But I refuse to be afraid. I have to believe that our love, though sudden and very unexpected, can defeat them. I'm not without friends, you know, powerful friends if the need ever arises. I won't forsake you. We won't forsake yo
u. We'll decide what to do when the time comes. Whatever happens, we will face it together."

  Gabrielle held that thought all day as she did her chores and spent time with Simon, helping him with his toilette and the throes of his illness.

  When Clarissa came that evening, she told her all she had learned about Simon's past thus far to relay to Oliver. Then she asked her if she had the right contacts to secure a brace of pistols.

  Clarissa's eyes widened, but she promised she would see what she could do. "It'll cost you," she warned.