“I am not in the habit of lying,” he growled as he grabbed her arm and tugged her backward into his chest.
One arm wrapped around her waist, he subdued her struggles and prevented her from breaking free of his grasp. The sensual fragrance she wore flooded his senses and sent lust slamming into him. Damnation, how was it he couldn’t get near her without feeling this intense need to hold her and never let her go? This need to kiss every inch of her until she called out his name. But worst of all was the craving to bury himself inside her.
Fear lanced through him at the images filling his head. But this time his terror was born of the desire crashing through him. He closed his eyes against the delicious view her loosely tied robe offered him as he looked over her shoulder and saw the full curve of her breast. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Even despite his lack of experience, he knew what to look for in a woman.
His friends had discussed the finer points of a woman’s figure many times. Once or twice they’d even dragged him to a brothel despite his best efforts to extract himself from the visit. Although he’d managed to keep his secret under the pretense of being drunk, he’d received enough of an education so as to appreciate the lush curves of Ruth’s body. She was beautiful.
“Please let me go.” Her voice was a strained plea that made him flinch.
With a quick movement, he turned her to face him, his hands still holding her in place. Anger glittered in her eyes, but he could see the hurt and confusion reflected there as well. He drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat. He wanted her to believe him, but how could he make her understand without stripping himself bare—without giving in to the hunger tugging at him with vicious glee?
“I’m not lying to you Ruth. And telling you that I . . . my . . . about my lack of experience is damned difficult.” He released his hold on her. “You’re the first person I’ve ever shared this with. My family doesn’t even know. And the only reason I’m telling you is because I know you thought I rejected you because of your age.”
Her lovely mouth parted as if she was about to speak, and he pressed his fingertips against her lips. God, but her mouth was soft against the pads of his fingers. His insides knotted up with that familiar sensation she always aroused in him, and he clamped down on the desire building inside him.
“You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever met. Every time I’m near you, I have to fight to keep from touching you. God help me, but I can’t get the image of you, emerging from your bathroom with water still clinging to every part of you, out of my head. You looked like a young Aphrodite, with your hair tumbling down onto your beautiful breasts.”
He could hear how hoarse his voice had become as he met her gaze. The fact that she was dressed almost exactly as she’d been the other night was not helping matters. His cock had gone rigid in his trousers, and his tongue grew thick in his mouth as he remembered how badly he’d wanted her at that moment, almost as badly as he did now.
“The way your nipples became taut peaks the moment you realized I was looking at you made me come close to coming right then and there. Can you blame me for . . . I couldn’t help taking you in my mouth when the opportunity presented itself. And Christ Jesus, I didn’t know . . . never thought that a woman might think to shave . . .”
Bloody hell. He was stammering—acting just like he had all those years ago with Bertha. An inept schoolboy. He flinched at the memory and jerked away from her. This had been a mistake. A blunder of the worst proportions. Whether she believed him or not wasn’t the real danger. It was whether she’d keep his secret.
Would she tell anyone? Why wouldn’t she? The minute someone else knew about his lack of experience in the bedroom it would become fodder for the gossip mill. Christ Almighty, when Wycombe got wind of it, the man would be overjoyed. The earl had already come close to openly labeling him a sodomite; now the bastard would have even more ammunition.
Then there was his uncle. He was certain Beresford had already said way too much to Tremaine. It wouldn’t be a short leap from his lack of experience in the bedroom to the fact that he was a freak of nature. The thought of the humiliation to come increased the gutwrenching sensation that was threatening to make him violently ill.
“Christ Jesus, I’m a fool,” he muttered fiercely. “I should have left well enough alone.”
He turned away to leave but stopped as her hand caught his arm. The strange expression on her face made him feel even worse. The last thing he wanted or needed was her pity.
“Are you really telling me the truth?” she asked quietly. He hesitated, then gave her a short, sharp nod.
“Yes,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Not even your mistress?”
“Mary needed protection from the man who’d ruined her,” he ground out. “Having the world think I had a mistress helped keep my secret safe.”
“But you parted with her.” Suspicion clouded Ruth’s face as she studied him carefully. It was evident she was struggling to believe him.
“She fell in love with the tutor I employed for her,” he said with a pained grimace. “They were married several weeks ago and left for America.”
“I see,” she murmured with a sympathetic expression that made his jaw lock with tension. Her brow furrowed by doubt, she narrowed her eyes at him. “But I don’t understand why you—”
“The why isn’t important,” he said harshly. “All that matters is that you believe me when I say that your age had nothing to do with my refusal to make love to you. You do yourself an injustice by thinking you’re no longer young enough for a man to desire you.”
The flush that crested in her cheeks emphasized the point he was trying to impress upon her. She looked half the age of her counterparts among the Set. Her face was smooth and youthful, and knowing a mere slip of fabric was all that hid her firm, supple body was enough to undo him. The thought of sliding into her made his cock stretch until he ached. What would it feel like to bury himself inside her? His hand was the only thing he’d ever known.
Christ, he’d probably spill his seed before he could even satisfy her. How did one satisfy a woman? He clenched his fists at the realization that no matter how much he wanted to know the answer to that question, it would go unanswered. The revelation he’d shared with her was all he dared to disclose about himself.
Coherent thought evaporated an instant later as she closed the distance between them. He breathed in her exotic fragrance, and suddenly, his entire body was raging with need. He stiffened as her hand touched his arm. Despite the light touch, the heat of her penetrated first his coat sleeve and then his shirt to warm his skin. He was going mad. Whenever the woman got close to him, he couldn’t think straight.
“It must be difficult . . . the suspicions . . . the rumors people like Wycombe spread. Even if you—”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish and tugged her toward him to capture her mouth in a hard kiss. The notion that she might be having second thoughts about his sexuality rammed through him like a wild boar. He probed her mouth with all the skill he possessed. A dark hunger ate away at him, pushing him to remove even the smallest doubt in her mind—to prove to her once and for all that Wycombe was wrong about him.
His hands slid beneath the thin robe to caress her breasts. They were warm and heavy in his palms. The moment his thumb brushed over a stiff nipple, she moaned softly and her tongue danced with his in an erotic fashion that heated his blood that much more. He wanted to suckle her again—wanted to hear her whimper with need like she had the other night. The thought pierced the haze of desire flooding his senses, and a shudder ran through him. He couldn’t repeat his mistake with her.
Making love to her would openly expose him to more humiliation, and he wasn’t willing to take that step, not even with her. Gently, he pulled her arms from around his neck and pushed her away from him. The sleepy, sultry look on her face slowly disappeared as she studied him in silence. He clenched his jaw against the banked fires
threatening to take hold of him again.
“I am not a sodomite,” he said stiffly as he turned away from her.
Damnation, the moment he’d even thought her about to suggest the possibility, he’d lost control in a way that alarmed him. He grimaced. When had he ever been in command of his senses where she was concerned? At least she’d shown him how the Marlborough Set would react to the truth. Bloody hell, if his inexperience became common knowledge . . . he ran his fingers through his hair as panic lashed through him. The silence hung between them like a heavy blanket. The heat of her hand pressed into his back and made him stiffen.
“I believe you, Garrick. Your inexperience. All of it. I believe you.”
The quiet declaration released the tight vise wrapped around his chest and he sighed with relief. He hadn’t realized how important it had been to him that he convince her of the truth. He cleared his throat as he turned toward her.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. If I were . . . if it . . . your age would never be a reason for me to reject you.” His jaw tight with tension, he met her steady look for a brief moment before shifting his gaze away from her.
“I understand that now. So where do we go from here?” Her quiet question surprised him.
“Perhaps we could continue as before.” He frowned. The one thing that had driven him to make amends had been their friendship. But if she suddenly decided she wanted more . . . he wasn’t prepared for that.
“Is that what you really want?”
“What do you mean?” He narrowed his gaze at her.
“Are you sure friendship is the only reason you told me the truth? I’m a courtesan, Garrick. Although I do much more than fulfill a man’s sexual needs, my skills in the bedroom are considered excellent.”
“Instruction?” He choked out the word. Sweet Jesus, the woman was offering to tutor him in the art of lovemaking. How in the hell was he supposed to respond to that?
“If not that, then perhaps someone to confide in?” she said in a soothing voice. “There must be a reason why you’ve never been with a woman. I am a good listener, when I wish to be.”
“That topic isn’t up for discussion,” he said through clenched teeth, not even smiling at her ironic comment about listening.
“As you wish.”
The heat of her brushed against him as she walked past to sit down at her dressing table. Stunned by her ready acquiescence, he stared at her as she calmly reached for a jar of cream and proceeded to apply the emollient to her hands. Awkward. It was a sensation he’d never liked, and he was feeling extremely awkward right now. He clasped his hands behind his back then drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.
“You’re going out this evening?” The question only reflected how ill at ease he was. She stopped rubbing her hands and met his gaze in the dressing table mirror.
“I was, but I’ve changed my mind,” she said quietly.
“I see.” A rush of pleasure surged through him. She hadn’t said so, but he was certain he was the reason she’d changed her plans.
“And you? Do you have plans?” In a casual gesture, she shrugged one shoulder out of her robe to rub cream on her skin. He inhaled sharply as he saw the lush curve of her beautiful breast reflected in the mirror.
“No . . . I . . . I wasn’t sure . . .” He swallowed hard as she finished rubbing cream on her shoulder and pulled her robe back up. His breathing eased for a mere fraction of an instant before she repeated the exercise with her other shoulder. A knot developed in his throat, making him cough.
“Are you all right, Garrick?”
She turned quickly to face him, her robe discreetly closed. The concerned look on her face would have eased his discomfort if he hadn’t seen the flash of something far more dangerous in her eyes.
“I’m . . . fine.”
With a shake of his head, he cleared his throat again. She tilted her head in contemplation. In the quiet glow of the gaslight, the movement emphasized the sweet curve of her shoulder and throat. A sense of impending doom swept over him, but he ignored it, unable to take his eyes off of her.
“Do you trust me, Garrick?” The softly spoken question took him by surprise, and he frowned.
“I would not have confided in you otherwise.”
“There’s nothing shameful about your innocence. In fact, I find it quite . . . arousing.”
She turned to pull a long scarf from one of the dressing table’s drawers. When she stood up to face him again, the gentle determination reflected on her face made him tense. In the next instant, the air in his lungs was dragged out of him in one large whoosh as he watched her slowly untie her robe. Bloody hell, why wasn’t he racing toward the door?
“Desire is a pleasurable thing, Garrick.”
Her voice was hypnotic, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she trailed one hand across her throat and then downward. The languid movement parted her wrapper as she leisurely brushed her fingertips along the side of her breast. It was an erotic movement that sent heat blasting through him until his palms were damp.
“Let me show you what it’s like to feel that pleasure.” The thin robe hiding her from him slid to the floor with a whisper, and his mouth went dry at the sight. “Let me show you how wonderful it can be between us.”
Why was he still standing here? He should have been at the door by now. He tried to move but couldn’t. If he didn’t do something fast there was no hope for him. His feet remained rooted to the floor as he watched her undo her hair so it fell down over her shoulders. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes closed, the scarf she still held in her hand drifted across the tips of her breast in a way that seemed natural, yet he knew it was deliberate.
“Do you like looking at me, Garrick?” The throaty whisper scraped across his senses.
“Yes,” he rasped.
The scarf fluttered against her skin like a butterfly touching first one delicate curve and then another. Her hands cupped her breasts, and in a move that made it impossible for him to breathe, she circled her fingers around her rigid nipples. With great difficulty, he suppressed the raging need to stride forward and take her into his arms. Instead he forced himself to take a step back from her. It did little to assuage the hunger assaulting his rigid cock. Almost as if she could sense his need, her eyes flickered open, and she stretched out her hand to offer him the scarf.
“Tie me to the bed.” It was a soft command that made him stare at her in astonishment. A sensual, yet gentle, smile curved her mouth. “I want you to be in control of your pleasure.”
His brain struggled to process her words. This was a seduction of the highest order. She was giving him complete control. Deep inside his head a shout of alarm tried to keep him from moving forward. It failed. She was giving him the ability to make love to her on his terms.
With a guttural sound, he closed the distance between them and tugged her into his arms. She came willingly, her hands sliding up over his chest to cup the back of his head as her lips parted beneath his. A white-hot need thundered through him, and he swept her off her feet to carry her toward the bed. Despite the urgency tugging at his erection, he carefully laid her down, shrugged out of his coat, and knelt beside her. Hesitation hammered at him in a staccato rhythm. Christ Jesus, he must be insane to think this would work. He swallowed hard. She reached up to stroke his face in a tender gesture as their eyes met.
“I trust you, Garrick. I wouldn’t have offered you complete control if I didn’t.”
Unable to speak, he nodded his head and took the scarf from her hands. He gently bound her wrists together then pulled them over her head to tie her to one of the brass spindles of the headboard. In the back of his mind he wondered how many other men had tied her like this. Jealousy streaked through him at the thought, but he pushed it away as he stared down at her. She was a feast for his eyes, every rosy flushed inch of her.
“Touch me.” Her whisper was more plea than demand, and he hesitated. Her eyelids were heavy with desire as she stared u
p at him. “I want you to touch me.”
He nodded before he reached out to press his palm against her softly rounded stomach. The warm heat of her spread its way into him. He brushed his hand across her silky smooth skin to find the curve at her side. She was soft, pliant against his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he rasped. A soft blush crested over her cheeks as she smiled up at him.
“Thank you. A woman never grows tired of hearing that.” She bent her leg until her knee was almost touching his mouth. “We like to be kissed, too. Everywhere.”
There was a veiled meaning to her words that he didn’t completely understand. That awkward sensation he despised returned, but this time he crushed it beneath the weight of his desire to touch her. He’d come this far already, and the tantalizing vision in front of him was enough to make him overcome the minor resistance in the back of his head.
Instinct guided him to grasp her ankle and slowly slide his hand upward as he lightly kissed her kneecap. The quiet murmur of approval escaping her encouraged him to trail his mouth downward along her smooth leg to her ankle. She tasted of citrus and spice. Deliciously sweet.
He cradled the bottom of her dainty foot in the palm of his hand to nibble at the inside of her ankle. Another soft sound rolled out of her, and he looked back at her face. If possible, the heat in her gaze made his erection even harder. His heart slammed into his chest at the thought of sliding into her. Would he disappoint her? The old uncertainty embraced him again. He was only half a man; how could he possibly please this incredibly gorgeous creature?
“Don’t think. Feel,” she whispered as if she could read his thoughts.
“Where else do you like to be kissed?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“Where would you like to kiss me?”
There was temptation in that question as his eyes drifted toward her breasts. He leaned forward to swirl his tongue around her aureole. Her soft gasp said he was proving an apt pupil. His teeth gently nipped at the hard tip, and she released a low cry of pleasure.
Pleasure Me Page 17