Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1)

by Cheri Champagne

  His arms extended above them, lathering up the soap.

  “I want a turn,” his voice rumbled beneath her, sending a shiver of delight down her spine.

  He set the soap aside and lowered one hand to her breasts.

  Her gasp filled the room, and she instinctively arched her spine. He palmed first one breast and then the other, the soap creating a slippery barrier between her skin and his.

  Anna’s eyes slid closed. His ministrations were exciting…arousing. His fingers circled one nipple before he pinched it between forefinger and thumb. The pleasure-pain sizzled through her body, her nerve endings taught with want.

  Anna’s body twitched at the sudden contact to her mons. While he’d distracted her with the playful flick of his fingers on her breasts, he slid his other hand beneath the water’s surface to tangle with the hair at the apex of her thighs. Slowly he edged closer, and yet closer, until the tips of his fingers reached her folds.

  Oh heavenly day! Could she be dreaming? She’d most certainly never imagined anything like this, even when exploring her own body in the dark of night.

  Then his soap-covered fingers delved inside.

  Anna’s body was alight with sensation as Lane explored. To have Lane touch her so intimately… It was a fantasy come true.

  His hands worked in tandem; one swirling around the soft flesh of her mons, and the other plucking nimbly at her breasts.

  She began to pant, entirely out of her control. Her pelvis lifted of its own accord, urging him on.

  “Anna…” Lane groaned.

  Her eyes still closed, she turned her head to meet his kiss. His movements became more insistent, more urgent, their kiss more passionate.

  Something was building within her. Something that started in her toes and worked its way up her legs while simultaneously fluttering in her stomach. Something…

  “Lane, I…” she gasped.

  “Shh-shh,” he rumbled. “Let it come, Annabel.” He moved his fingers faster. “You cannot know what you do to me. I feel positively mad with desire…”

  His words faded from her consciousness as an explosion began.

  It started slow, but built quickly. Light burst behind her eyelids, her body shaking with wave after wave of pure pleasure. A cry was pulled from her lips as she arched away from Lane’s chest.

  Distantly, she heard Lane curse before she was lifted bodily from the bath. She was dimly aware of their movement as Lane placed her, sopping wet, upon the bed’s coverlet.

  Her body still throbbed with the delightful aftereffects of…whatever it was the explosion was truly called.

  She watched in anticipation as Lane joined her on the bed, his muscles flexing as he braced himself over her.

  Then she caught sight of it. His magnificent appendage jutted impressively erect from a thatch of dark-blonde curls that beaded with bathwater. It visibly throbbed with the beat of his heart. It was covered with blue veins that disappeared beneath its head. It looked strong…and enormous. Would it even fit? As quickly as the doubt appeared, she brushed it away. Men and women were meant to fit together, no matter how impossible it might seem.

  Her hand moved before she’d consciously thought of the action. Her first finger extended as she touched the ruddy tip of his erection. It bobbed away from her finger, and she turned her questioning gaze upward to meet his.

  The stark desire burning in the dark depths of his eyes was mesmerizing. Anna knew what was coming next. As painful as she had been warned that it would be, Anna was immeasurably pleased that it was Lane who would take her maidenhead.

  Chapter 15

  Lane’s body shook with his desire to be inside Anna. He needed her. But at the back of his mind, doubt nagged at him. Could he do it? Would he make an ass of himself? Would he be able to complete the act?

  He wanted to. Bloody hell, he wanted to bury himself deep inside her and remain there indefinitely. Uncertainty warred with need in his mind.

  He’d nearly come off when Anna came apart in his arms. Could he make her come again?

  The thought sent a jolt of want to his cods and flushed the uncertainty from his mind. If anyone were to understand his problem, it would be Anna. He hoped to God that it wouldn’t happen, but if it did, he knew he would only receive compassion from his kind-hearted friend. Besides, he wanted nothing more than to see Anna come for him again.

  “Anna,” he said gruffly. “I want you. I want to be inside you. If…” His jaw tightened. “If you have any reservations, please tell me so now.”

  Anna lifted her head up to connect their lips in a slow, ardent kiss. Her hand, still poised below, boldly gripped him. He broke their kiss to hiss a breath between his teeth.

  She quickly released him. “Oh! I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  He groaned. “No. That was the farthest thing from pain, my dear. In fact, it felt far too good.”

  Before she could digest his words, Lane positioned himself atop of Anna, spreading her legs wide with his knees. He pressed the tip of his impatient pego at her sweet, damp entrance, then paused.

  His voice was low and rough. “Are you certain you wish to do this?” He needed to hear her say it.

  Anna lifted her hips against him, driving him mad. “Yes, Lane. I’m ready.”

  He needn’t have any further encouragement. With one hand to guide him, he coated himself with her wetness then slowly slid inside. It took every ounce of self-restraint for him to go slowly. But his desire to keep from hurting her prevailed over his wild desire to pump frantically within her.

  Blazes, she felt amazing. Her body was perfectly shaped to fit him.

  Her cheeks flushed a deeper rose, and she spread her legs wider to accommodate him.

  His body trembled as he slowly pushed further, a knot of nervousness settling in the pit of his stomach.

  Lane gazed down into Anna’s half-lidded blue eyes and pushed past his doubt.

  The tip of his member reached her maidenhead barrier, and he paused. He saw no apprehension, no uncertainty in her gaze. Only lust, openness, and warmth shone in those sky-blue depths.

  With a deep breath, Lane pressed his lips to hers and thrust his hips, sheathing himself fully in her heat. Anna’s gasp of pain was absorbed by his mouth but clearly heard.

  He broke their kiss to press his forehead to hers. “I’m so sorry, Anna. I did not wish to hurt you.” His voice quavered.

  She took a shuttering breath, and Lane’s gut clenched.

  “I am well, Lane,” she assured him. “Mostly startled.”

  Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his body began to act of its own accord, slowly moving within her. He pulled his steely flesh from within her and entered her a fraction at a time.

  “Oh…” she moaned. “Oh, Lane. That is…mu…much better…now.”

  “Anna,” he grunted, unable to form any other intelligible thought.

  He sped his movements, pumping faster and faster. Anna’s face flushed deeper, her body moving against his. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs rose to encircle his waist.

  His cods tightened, his stomach jumped; Lane had never experienced anything like this. Never had this rush of blood surging through his body, this anticipation, this longing, this thorough desire taking over his entire being. Certainly, he’d climaxed by his own hand, but reaching this point with a woman—with Anna—was so different. He was in heaven. He was beyond heaven, with this writhing, moaning, gorgeous woman beneath and around him.

  Blazes. He couldn’t hold off his orgasm much longer. He pulled back to watch Anna’s face just as she came apart for him once more, her cry of pleasure echoing off the walls of the small bedchamber.

  “Lane!”

  It was too much. With one final, fervent thrust, Lane buried his face in the crook of her neck and poured his seed inside her.

  His heart galloped in his chest. He’d done it!

  Anna was much more than he had antici
pated. She was sensational, a marvel. No, a miracle. For Lane to experience the entire act of lovemaking so wholly and emotionally in Anna’s arms had to have been a sign. He and Anna were meant to be together.

  * * *

  Annabel blinked languidly as the sun began its ascent the next morning, awakening her slowly. She was slightly sore, particularly after that second bout of lovemaking, but supremely exultant. Lane had awoken her at some point in the middle of the night and made love to her leisurely…sweetly. He had been heartwarmingly gentle, taking the time to kiss every inch of her before he entered her once more.

  She stretched, raising her arms above her head dreamily. Her nipples puckered. There was a slight chill to the morning air as the fire had died out long ago.

  Anna eyed Lane from her position beside him. The coverlet had been pushed down to his feet, and the sheet lay draped casually across his tight abdomen. He had a spectacularly defined body.

  Curiosity grabbed hold of her. She had not gotten a very good look at him last evening. With a furtive glance at Lane’s face to ensure that he was still sleeping, Anna stealthily lifted the edge of the sheet and bent to examine his body more closely.

  Goodness. Even when not erect, his member was quite large. She tilted her head to see the soft sacs between his thighs. They certainly had an odd look to them, being wrinkled and hairy. She steadfastly resisted the urge to poke one.

  Slowly, his manhood began to swell. Her eyes widened, and she looked on in amazement as it grew. How fascinating!

  “Do you like what you see?” Lane’s deep voice rumbled.

  Anna jumped, a hand fluttering to her chest and a blush flaming her cheeks. “Oh! You knew I was observing you! How long have you been awake?”

  “Since you reached for the sheet.” He winked at her.

  “You sneak!” She cuffed him playfully on his uninjured arm, hiding her embarrassment.

  “Yes, but you like me this way.” Lane reached for her, pulling her down to lie atop of him.

  A quiver went through her as Lane kissed her neck, his several days’ growth of beard gently abrading her soft skin. He skimmed his hands down her sides to cup her buttocks.

  He moaned. “You smell good.”

  She pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. “Thank you, but I am quite sore this morning,” she said with a regretful grimace. “And we do not have much time. I would like to return to London by nightfall.”

  “Yes, of course.” He kissed the tip of her nose before releasing her.

  Anna rolled to the edge of the bed and stood in one fluid motion. Before last evening, she would have felt insecure with his seeing her flop about in the nude, but after witnessing the lust glitter in his eyes, she could not conceivably question his desire for her, extra padding and all.

  But would he mention marriage again?

  Something cold slithered down her upper thigh, and she quickly made her way to the washbasin. She would never have imagined that intimate relations between men and women would be so very messy. She resisted the urge to stare at the white substance, knowing he observed her from his position on the bed, but instead rinsed and wrung the cloth to continue cleaning herself.

  Would Lane consider proposing once more? It was in his nature to be the honourable gentleman, but what if he was offended at her previous lack of a response? Would he wish to preserve his pride and not ask again? No. Surely not. Perhaps he wished to wait until he spoke with her father once they returned to London. Yes, that was most definitely plausible.

  Anna’s lips curved into a grin. She would wait, then, until they returned to London and Lane had enough time to arrange an appointment with Papa.

  She heard Lane shuffle from the bed behind her, and she moved to conclude her morning ablutions behind the small privacy screen at the opposite corner of the room.

  They smiled at each other as they passed, a companionable silence settling over them. Is that what it would be like once they married? Them reading quietly or playing chess in the evenings, strolling through the gardens, enjoying alfresco luncheons, a friendly rivalry coupled with contented tranquility. It sounded heavenly.

  Anna gathered her clothing from the previous day and began to dress.

  Lane strode about the room behind her, his heavy footfalls causing the floor to creak with each step. Anna turned to smile at him as she drew her arms through the sleeves of the sunny-yellow frock.

  He stood, gloriously nude, smiling back at her. She fought a blush at the sight of him. He was tall, broad… Heavens, but he was positively perfect. He combed his fingers through his dishevelled blonde hair, his muscles bunching and his brown eyes crinkling.

  He watched her expectantly, and Anna stifled a frown. What did he want from her?

  She licked her suddenly dry lips. “We had best request the morning meal and obtain tickets on the day’s first mail coach.”

  He turned his gaze quickly to the floor, hiding what Anna thought to be an expression of hurt. But he returned his gaze to hers once more, his jovial mien in place. “Indeed, Anna dear. I will dress and inquire.” He hesitated. “But first, would you be so good as to re-bandage my arm?”

  Anna blinked. “Oh! Of course.”

  Lane stepped into his trousers and pulled them up, covering his impressive male appendage. Did he always forego small clothes beneath his trousers?

  * * *

  Lane’s breath caught at the sight of Anna’s heated gaze. His eager cock sprang to life, making it nigh impossible to button his trousers’ falls. One night of not being a sodding virgin and his body did not want to stop making love. He wanted more, and more, and yet more of Anna.

  She was the first—the only—woman to inspire such feelings in him. She attracted his body, his heart, and his mind in a perfect symphony of need.

  “If you keep staring, love, I might have to request a second night at this inn.” His voice was pitched low and rough with desire.

  Anna’s gaze flicked to his, a blush staining her soft cheeks. Her shock, however, quickly turned to reproach. “You teasing man.” She frowned, but Lane saw the humour lurking in her gaze.

  He thought to correct her, to tell her that he was entirely serious, but prudence won the battle, and he kept silent. He winked at her as he buttoned his falls. They had spent long enough away from their homes and their families; it was time to return to London.

  He sat, shirtless, upon a chair and waited while Anna redressed his wounds. The bullet’s graze scarcely pained him any more, though he couldn’t quell the hiss of his breath as she dabbed at the injury with a cloth. Within moments, she had his arm cleaned and bound.

  With a smile, she stood and left him.

  Anna went about the room doing Lord knew what while Lane dressed, his mind buzzing. He could not deny that her lack of eagerness hurt. It did. Hell, it nigh tore him apart inside. But she’d given him her maidenhead; surely she felt more for him than a means to gain some pleasure. Indeed, it was not in Anna’s nature to behave thusly. She must expect something more from him. Perhaps she waited for their return to London where he could properly court her.

  The thought hovered around in his mind, teasing him with the possibilities. Courting Anna would be wonderful. They could do all of the things that they ordinarily did, no longer as close friends but as intended husband and wife. He could hold her closer as they danced, clasp her hand for longer than a polite friendship would allow. They could attend the theatre together, Covent Garden, they could go riding… The options were endless.

  Anticipation pumped through his veins, banishing any disheartened feelings from his heart.

  Lane moved to stand in front of the room’s tall mirror. He slid his cravat around his neck and tied it in a tasteful knot, wrinkled though the blasted thing was, then put on his overlarge brown tailcoat. He adjusted the sleeves and tugged on the waist until it fell comfortably.

  “I will go below stairs and arrange for our morning meal and transportation,” he sa
id to the room.

  “Mmm,” Anna replied absently.

  His gaze found her as she attempted to make sense of a knot in her hair. His chest swelled. A courtship would be pleasing, indeed.

  Chapter 16

  Anna blinked rapidly at the startling sunlight as she stepped out the front door of The Swan Inn. At that moment, she wished she hadn’t lost her bonnet on their journey. Instead she shaded her eyes with her hand and scanned the innyard for Lane, who had preceded her out the door.

  Then there he stood, attractive as ever, with the reins of one mount in each hand and a boyish grin on his face.

  “What,” she asked, “in heaven’s name are you doing with those?”

  His grin deepened. “These,” he mocked, “are horses. They are for riding.” He gestured with his hands and galloped his feet. One of the horses sidestepped away from him in agitation.

  “I have a mind to hit you, Lane.”

  He barked a laugh, his head thrown back.

  Anna clucked her tongue. “I had thought we would take the mail coach. Or at the very least, hire a hack for the journey.” Her body still ached from running yesterday and their vigorous activity of last evening. Her muscles trembled already; how was she to make it through a day of riding?

  Lane’s grin slipped, and his eyebrows curved upward in apology. “There are no equipages to be had, Anna, and the taproom is full of patrons awaiting a ride on the day’s coaches.” He shrugged his shoulders. “My apologies, but riding is our only option if we wish to reach London today.”

  Shame washed over her. Lane should not feel the need to apologize; he had done his best. If she had not been so very concerned with her own welfare, she would have realized that he must be sore, as well. For goodness’ sake, he had carried her to their bedchamber last night!

  Anna strode forward and placed her hand on Lane’s chest. His heart beat rapidly beneath her palm as he watched her questioningly. “Thank you, Lane,” she whispered.