My Favorite Rogue: 8 Wicked, Witty, and Swoon-worthy Heroes

by Courtney Milan, Lauren Royal, Grace Burrowes, Christi Caldwell, Jess Michaels, Erica Ridley, Delilah Marvelle

  He crushed her against him, unable to control the swell of desire that rolled over him, washing him under in its wake, removing all other thoughts and protests from his mind. He would have her, and these moments of passion would ease her pain. That was all he could give, perhaps.

  She groaned against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest like a cat begging for affection. He gave it freely, letting his hands move to cup her backside and lifting her against him so she could feel how much she moved him.

  When she felt his cock pressed to her belly, she smiled against his lips and pulled back to look at him. “Do you think we could, er, be together here? Sort of like against the tree but with more…more…?”

  He almost laughed at the sweet innocence mingled with wicked seduction in her question. “It is very, very possible. But are you certain? Just like against the tree, someone could come upon us. And it would be harder to cover up what we were doing.”

  He expected her to be troubled by that, but to his surprise her eyes lit up with a flutter of increased arousal. To be caught or watched was a clearly a fantasy she hadn’t even known she had or perhaps didn’t yet understand.

  And desire burned through his blood at the wantonness that lurked beneath her surface.

  “I want you,” she admitted. “I want pleasure to forget what you’ve told me about pain. I want you, Jude.”

  He nodded, unable to resist, and gently lowered her to the soft grass at the lakeside. Although he sincerely wished he had brought a blanket, he would make due. He shrugged from his jacket and urged her to sit up to press it beneath her for protection.

  Then he slid open the top button along the front of her gown. She sighed, a shuddering sound of relief and need that hardened his ready cock even further.

  “The sun on your skin is gorgeous,” he murmured as he parted the dress.

  She laughed. “I’ll freckle.”

  “In the places only I can see,” he growled as he pulled her chemise and the dress down to her waist and bared her to the light, to his eyes, his hands, his tongue. “If you freckle, I’ll trace the constellations between.”

  She smiled. “With what?”

  He laughed too, but it was a possessive sound rather than a teasing one. Without answering in words, he leaned down to flick his tongue over her nipple, then gently drag it across her chest to the opposite one. As the breeze hit her now-wet peak, she arched with a groan.

  He latched onto the nipple before him and began to suck, alternating between hard and soft, between strokes of his tongue and nips with the edge of his teeth. She gyrated beneath him, making incoherent sounds of lust and pleasure. He repeated the same scandalous action on her opposite breast, watching how her eyes dilated, how her hips lifted as she clawed at the grass for purchase.

  “You were made for this,” he groaned as he began to pull her skirt up, bunching it at her waist with the top of her gown.

  “Made for you,” she corrected faintly, lifting her hips to facilitate his revealing her lower body to the sun.

  He shuddered as her creamy thighs opened for him, revealing the pink hint of her sex. She was gorgeous and tempting, so far out of his reach, but somehow he had a chance to have just a taste of her. And taste he was going to do.

  He lowered his head, positioning himself between her legs, and dropped his mouth to her. She smelled sweet, and when he stroked his tongue over her tender flesh, she tasted earthy and erotic. She whimpered above him and he smiled as he delved into the act, letting his tongue enter her as he massaged her trembling legs.

  “Jude,” she panted from above him, her back arching and her hips lifting to find pleasure. He groaned as her sex grew slicker both from his mouth and her increasing excitement. He pushed her open wider, tugging her drawers further apart, spreading her flesh so that he could find the hidden pearl of her clitoris.

  He sucked her, nipping the little bud, and she let out a cry that echoed in the summer air.

  “Come for me,” he demanded against her flesh. “I want to taste it.”

  She stared at him, eyes wide at the order she apparently hadn’t expected. But by the way her eyes glazed, he could see she liked the aggressive demand. She began to lift her hips in time to his seeking tongue, searching for release, clenching to find it.

  When he slipped two fingers into her channel, warm, tight heat enveloping him, it was enough to hurtle her over the edge. She bucked up, her sheath throbbing around him, stroking him as he stroked her. She cried out incoherent sounds of pleasure as he sucked her through it all, lapping up her juices until she flopped against his jacket with a shuddering moan.

  Only then did he withdraw, crawling up the length of her as he unfastened his trousers. His member bobbed free, warm air hitting the exquisitely sensitive flesh, and he almost lost his mind. All he had left in his head were the animal demands that he take her, rut with her, fill her with his seed.

  He pressed his mouth to hers, letting her taste her own unique flavor even as he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust, gliding home in one smooth movement. Her body gripped his aching cock and he clenched his fists against the ground on either side of her head as he tried to maintain a grip on some kind of control. He wasn’t about to spend right away.

  No, he wanted to make her come again first.

  He gritted his teeth as he began to stroke inside of her. He used shallow thrusts, teasing his own pleasure, while coaxing hers back to the surface. He could tell it was working by the way she gasped with every thrust, lifting her hips to find him as he withdrew.

  She was like heaven. Tight and hot around him, welcoming and perfect. He wanted to stay inside of her forever, locked in this embrace, never letting go. Always giving her the pleasure that made her cries escape her throat and her skin go pink with exertion.

  But his body couldn’t take such a thing. Already, he felt his seed on the move, threatening to fill her. Even though he wanted to, he couldn’t. A child was not something they could create, no matter how easily he could picture that child in his arms.

  No, he had to satisfy himself with…

  She cried out a second time as his careful thrusts brought her over the edge. She milked him with her orgasm and he began to thrust harder, slamming their bodies together without finesse or thought. And just when he thought he could die from the building sensation, he reared up to withdraw from her and pumped his seed out on the grass by the lake.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, he collapsed down beside her and drew her closer. She didn’t resist, but settled her head into the crook of his shoulder, her gentle hand coming to rest on his still-clothed chest.

  “That was wonderful,” she sighed when her breath had returned to a normal rate. “I never thought I could feel such things.”

  He reached out to trace a finger around her areola, and her nipple puckered again. “Feel what?”

  She shivered. “Such anticipation of you touching me. And then when you’re touching me, such a heated need to have your cock stretching me wide, filling me. And then there is the pleasure. So hot, so fast, so overpowering. It’s like I’m torn from my own body, thrown to a higher plane. Is it—is it like that for you, or am I just another woman you take to slake your needs?”

  He jerked his gaze to her with an incredulous lift of an eyebrow. “You must be joking.”

  “I know you’ve had lovers, likely many lovers.”

  He shrugged. “Some lovers, yes. And I don’t discount that what I shared with them was enjoyable. But I didn’t lie when I told you that I always pictured your face, Audrey.”

  He knew the confession was the wrong thing to do. It was giving too much, revealing too much and in a way, demanding too much, since they would part when they returned to London and this heady, heated time between them would become a faint memory to her.

  But he had to say it. The words burned within him and forced them to his lips.

  She stared at him for a long moment, then rolled over to lay on top of him. Her body pressed agai
nst his swiftly took him back to that place of anticipation, arousal.

  “And do I live up to whatever fantasy you once had?” she whispered.

  He reached down to cup her bare backside, rubbing her against his rapidly hardening erection until she shut her eyes and swore under her breath.

  “You are better than anything I ever imagined,” he groaned.

  She moved to straddle him, to take him inside of her and start their maddening dance of pleasure all over again, but he gripped her hips tight and kept her from their mutual desire.

  “Audrey, you have to promise me you will stay out of my search for Claire.”

  Her eyes went wide at the sudden change of subject. She moved against him—he could see she was trying to make him forget his statement. It was hard not to do just that.

  He blinked and somehow maintained focus.

  “Tell me, Audrey. Promise me you won’t involve yourself. It’s too dangerous.”

  She glared at him. “You would withhold your body from me?”

  “No,” he said, tugging her along his length again. “But I need you to say to me that you’ll do this for me.”

  She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she would refuse. Then she nodded slowly. “I will stay out of it,” she promised softly.

  He let out a sigh of relief and thrust up, spearing her for a second time and eliciting a yelp of surprised pleasure as she began to grind over him like the most experienced bawd in London.

  And as he surrendered to the pleasure she gave with just the twitch of her hips, he hoped it was a promise she intended to keep. For both their sakes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Audrey had made so many promises in her life. As a child she had promised to be quiet and good and not to run. As a young woman, she had vowed to be ladylike and follow the rules and seek a husband. She had promised her sister not to tell her secrets and her brothers not to reveal their naughtiness.

  But only once had she made a promise she never intended to keep. To Jude, just a few hours before.

  She had told him she would stay out of his continuing investigation of Claire’s whereabouts. And she hadn’t meant a damn word of it.

  She supposed she should feel badly about it. But as she stood, allowing Ursula to unfasten her gown as she readied for bed, she didn’t even feel a twinge of guilt.

  “Have you ever realized something about yourself that you didn’t know?” she asked absently.

  The maid’s head bobbed up from her work and she looked at Audrey with surprise. “I-I don’t know, my lady. I suppose I don’t think about it much.”

  Audrey’s brow furrowed. “You never consider who you are, what is expected of you, what you want from life?”

  “I’m a servant,” Ursula replied with a shrug. “I don’t suppose I have many choices, do I?”

  “Of course you do.” Audrey shook her head. “I mean, you could leave my employ.”

  Ursula glided the dress from her shoulders and shook it out, frowning at what Audrey recognized with a blush was a grass stain. But her servant didn’t question its existence.

  “I wouldn’t want to do that, my lady. You are a kind mistress and I could never expect to have such a good life elsewhere.” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “You don’t want to sack me, do you, Lady Audrey?”

  Audrey gasped and moved toward her maid with hands outstretched. “No, no, of course not. I’m happy to have you. I only mean that your being here isn’t a matter of slavery. If you found something you liked more, you could go.”

  Ursula let out a sigh of relief and then seemed to ponder Audrey’s words with more understanding. “In my class, there is little to think about in terms of wants and desires.”

  “There isn’t a place you’d like to be or a young man you fancy?” Audrey pressed.

  Ursula blushed and the color on her cheeks answered the question.

  “You see, you do like someone.” Audrey laughed. “Is he in our employ?”

  Ursula bit her lip. “There is a young man, a footman. He is working his way up, but it won’t intrude upon my work none, I assure you.”

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “Oh, heavens, I’m not worried about that. Who is it?”

  Ursula shifted as she folded Audrey’s gown over her arm. “I don’t know if I should say.”

  “Please!” Audrey begged, happy for this distraction from her own thoughts.

  “Well, it is Lionel, my lady.” When Audrey didn’t register the face to go with the name right away, Ursula continued, “He used to work in the stable and was put up in the house last year?”

  Audrey finally conjured an image of a young, bright-faced lad with the slightest of limps. “Yes, of course. Why, Ursula, he’s quite handsome if I’m recalling correctly. And does he like you?”

  “I think so. We talk quite a bit when I’m below stairs.” Ursula blushed. “But I don’t know that liking him means I’m learning anything about myself.”

  Audrey nodded as her maid brought her back to her original point. “I suppose I mean to say that Lionel…oh, how I can explain?” She pondered for a moment and then struck on the answer. “What if Lionel hadn’t been moved from the stable to the house staff?”

  “I wouldn’t have met him,” Ursula said somberly.

  “But I’m sure when he was offered that position in the house, it likely didn’t seem life-changing to him.”

  “To move up to the house? Oh yes, he was very excited!” Ursula insisted.

  Audrey pondered that for a moment. “Very well, so the opportunity may have been important, but he couldn’t have guessed that a chance at love might await him. And if it was mentioned to you that a servant from the stable was moving to the house, it likely didn’t mean anything to you. But once you met him and decided you liked him, it suddenly felt—felt—”

  “Earthshattering,” Ursula whispered.

  Drawing back, Audrey examined her maid. “You really do like him.”

  Ursula nodded, but she waved off the comment. “But—but does that mean you think you’ve discovered something about yourself that felt unimportant at the time you first learned it?”

  Audrey sighed. “I have. You know, when Claire disappeared, everyone kept telling me it didn’t have to affect me. I didn’t have to change. But the longer she’s gone, the more I see how much it did change me. Her departure has made me question my own desires, my own fears. I have been reticent in my husband search since she vanished. I have even neglected some of my friends.”

  Ursula’s face drew down. For a time, Claire and Audrey had shared the young maid, so she knew Claire well enough. “We all miss Lady Claire. And pray for her return.”

  “But what if I could help facilitate that return?” Audrey continued. “What if I could change everyone’s life once again? What would happen if I did? For her? For me? For us all?”

  “My lady, I don’t know how you think you can help Lady Claire, but I hope you aren’t thinking of doing something dangerous.”

  Audrey drew in a breath as her mind was mobbed with images of Claire’s potential suffering, made sharper by Jude’s confessions earlier in the day about what he’d found out about Claire’s way of life. He wanted to protect Audrey from those things, these feelings, but she wouldn’t let him.

  She couldn’t.

  “No danger,” she reassured her maid. “I simply think my insights could be useful to Jude.” As Ursula stared at her, she realized her slip. “Mr. Samson.”

  “Mr. Samson will allow that?” Ursula asked, her voice filled with sudden tension.

  Audrey wrinkled her brow at the tone and expression of her maid. “Wait, why do you say Samson’s name that way? What do you think of him?”

  “I shouldn’t…”

  “Do,” Audrey ordered.

  “Well, he is very well-respected, of course. How could you not? He demands it just by standing near you, giving you that look.”

  “What look?” Audrey asked.

  Ursula shivered. “The one that says he
can see through you, see all the bad things you’ve done.”

  Audrey shifted. Jude did have that intensity in his dark blue eyes. More than once, she had felt speared in place by just his stare. Only she didn’t think it was fear-worthy. It had always given her that secret fissure of sensation she now recognized as deep desire.

  “Jude isn’t so very bad. I can see how he might be intimidating if you don’t know him, but I assure you, he is very kind and patient and…”

  She stopped, for Ursula was suddenly staring at her as if she understood something she hadn’t before. Panic gripped Audrey.

  “So tomorrow, why don’t we do the blue dress with the cream stripe for morning?” she burst out, trying to change the subject.

  “Lady Audrey,” the servant began, shifting before she spoke again. “I’ve known you a long time, and I know it isn’t appropriate, but—”

  Audrey caught her breath and whispered, “Don’t say it, Ursula.” Her maid shut her mouth and Audrey continued, “I know it’s impossible. It’s just…complicated.”

  Ursula tilted her head. “Because he’s a servant.”

  “He’s not a servant, he’s never been just that,” Audrey whispered with a shake of her head. Then she speared her maid with a direct gaze. “You aren’t going to say anything about…about what you suspect.”

  Ursula hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. “What could I suspect, Lady Audrey? There is nothing suspicious going on.”

  Audrey smiled, pressing a comforting hand to Ursula’s before the maid fetched her nightshift and robe and brought them back to her. As she pulled off her slippers and stockings and removed her chemise, Audrey’s mind drifted to Jude. Ursula might have an inkling she liked him, but she could have no clue that Audrey was carrying on a passionate affair with him.

  Ursula wouldn’t accept that so easily, she didn’t think. If she knew, there might even be tattling to her mother, though the maid would say it was only for her protection.