“I will take my chemise off. But only if you undress first,” she murmured huskily.
He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He rose to his feet, made short work of his trousers’ fastenings and seconds later, he stood before her, completely naked. And ready for her.
Georgie swallowed. Dear God above. Rafe clothed, even semi-clothed, was a wondrous sight, but stripped bare... He was magnificent. And large. She’d pleasured him with her mouth but to see him like this, in a state of full rut with his long, thick cock standing to attention... She’d never seen anything so arousing. Her sex clenched with fresh need. She put her glass down also. She didn’t want wine anymore.
“My turn,” she whispered. She rose to her knees and grasped the hem of her chemise with trembling fingers. And her belly turned an unexpected somersault. Despite everything she and Rafe had done tonight, this stripping away of her very last layer was proving to be harder than she’d ever imagined. She’d never been fully naked in front of a man before. And Rafe would undoubtedly have seen the bodies of many beautiful women. He might be aroused at the moment, but what would he think of her nude body? She was slender, but she was also well-endowed in the areas of hip and bust; at least more so than many of her feminine contemporaries who were considered to be the epitome of elegance and beauty. What if he didn’t like what she revealed?
Bury the last of your self-doubt, Georgiana Dudley. A bargain is a bargain. And Rafe is waiting.
She started to inch the garment up. Heat flooded her face, crept down her neck toward her breasts. Rafe’s eyes were fixed on her, following her every movement.
“You torture me, sweetheart.” His voice was an agonized whisper. He gripped his cock and squeezed; a pearl of semen seeped from the smooth, ruddy head. “Please, let me see you.”
Enough hiding. He wants you. Just do it. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled the chemise off completely.
Cool air washed over her skin, raising gooseflesh, tightening her nipples into aching points. She glanced up through her lashes to steal a look at Rafe’s face. And she realized how silly she’d been to doubt both him and herself.
He looked like a man enthralled.
“Georgiana,” he groaned, his avid gaze tracing over all her curves, and hollows, lingering on the brown curls between her thighs. “You are divine. Exquisite. I’d imagined... If I’d known...” His eyes returned to her face. “God, I really should have convinced you to shed your clothes much, much sooner.” He reached out and cupped her swollen breasts, as if testing their weight, exploring the texture of her skin. Ran his thumbs back and forth over the sensitive, furled tips. “If I were fortunate enough to have my way, you would never don another stitch again,” he murmured. The heated expression in his eyes suddenly softened, became tender. “You have no need to be shy, sweetheart. You are perfect in every way.”
“You read me too well,” she murmured, breathless with sharp want. Rafe’s adoration was fanning the flames of her desire as surely as the play of his wicked fingers. She pushed her breasts into his hands, at last feeling how she’d always longed to feel with a lover. Brazen and unashamedly wanton.
Deserving of love.
His mouth tilted into a smile laden with sexual promise. “Hmm. Let me guess if I can predict what you would like next.” He bent his head and taunted one of her nipples, sucking the tip between his lips before flicking it with his tongue. “Am I right?” he whispered, his breath hot against her flesh, making her shiver.
“Yes. To begin with,” she gasped, threading her fingers through his dark silky hair.
He chuckled then one of his hands skated downward; two long fingers pushed gently between her slippery folds and stroked whilst his thumb began to circle the distended nub of her clitoris, setting off more tremors of pleasure. “And what of this?”
Her legs shook. She could barely speak. “Ah... a little better.”
Rafe raised his head and kissed her, a sweet, light brush of his lips that was completely at odds with the action of his fingers. “Only a little. I must aim to do much better then, Duchess.” Before she knew what he was about, he pushed her down onto the bed, hovering over her. He flexed his hips and his erection pressed into her belly, hot and hard and as smooth as an iron rod sheathed in silk. His searing gaze locked with hers. “Do you want me inside you?”
Such a simple question, but the fact he was asking her what she wanted yet again made her heart swell with emotion. “Yes. Please, yes,” she whispered, breathless with desire. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind; she wanted Rafe to possess her, pound into her, until nothing existed but him. She parted her legs and slid her hands to his firm buttocks, urging him to take her. “More than anything.”
“Thank God.” Rafe kissed her, his tongue plundering deeply as he gently pushed her thighs farther apart with one of his muscular legs. She felt the head of his cock pressing against the tender entrance to her passage. Nudging her open. The pressure began to sting. Although she was wet and willing, it had been a decade since she’d had intercourse. And Rafe’s member was massive. The pain would get worse before it got better, but she didn’t care. The need to feel Rafe inside her bordered on desperation. She dug her fingers into his hard flesh as she waited for the burn that would accompany his entry. It almost felt like her virginity was being taken all over again.
The intensity of the sting increased and despite her best efforts to suppress it, a whimper rose in her throat. Rafe ripped his mouth away from hers. “I’m sorry for hurting you, sweetheart,” he gasped against her lips. “But you are so very tight.”
She blinked away tears. “I know. Do not worry about it.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded thin and shaky. But she wasn’t giving up. She slid her hands to Rafe’s wide shoulders and gripped tightly, firming her resolve. “Just take me. Do it now.”
Rafe bowed his head, touching his forehead to hers. “All right,” he gritted out. “Now.”
He lunged forward, thrusting hard, filling her completely with his hard, heavy length. A sharp stab of pain tore through her and she bit her lip to stop her cry escaping. But within the space of a few breaths, her inner muscles seemed to adjust to Rafe’s intrusion. The discomfort faded and the fullness stretching her sheath was not unpleasant. In fact, she rather thought she liked it. More than liked it.
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she whispered against his throat. He smelled of sweat and spicy cologne and when she kissed the taut tendons of his neck, he tasted of salt.
“Good.” He drew back a little and caught her gaze. “Because I want you to enjoy this just as much as I’m going to.”
She couldn’t fail to notice the tension in his jaw, the burning intensity in his eyes. Entering her with such restraint when he was so engorged was obviously difficult for him too. Tenderness pierced her heart and she pulled him down for a brief, fervent kiss. “I will.” She rolled her hips, urging him to move. “Now, show me everything I’ve been missing.”
Rafe closed his eyes and groaned. “If you keep talking and moving like that, this will be over in seconds, my sweet. I don’t think either of us wants that.” He lowered his head and seized her mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue lashing against hers as he began to withdraw on a long, slow glide. She moaned, lamenting the loss of him until he thrust back into her.
Oh yes. Her sheath immediately clenched around him. Her womb contracted. “Keep going,” she urged on a gasp, wrapping her legs about him, tightening her hold on his shoulders.
“With pleasure,” he growled. He loomed over her, his sweat-slickened chest brushing over her sensitized nipples, his eyes never leaving her face as he slid out, then surged back into her, each thrust harder. Deeper. She felt every powerful stroke, every throbbing, rock-hard inch of him. Her memories of sex were hazy but she was sure it had never been like this.
So intense. So intimate.
Raw passion tempered by tenderness, perhaps even affection.
She dare not think, even for a
second, that Rafe was actually making love to her.
Burying her face in his neck, she pushed the thought away—an easy thing to do considering the brilliant, blinding whirlpool of sensation that was rapidly engulfing her. Rafe began to increase the pace of his thrusts, stroking in and out of her with glorious, purposeful precision. And somehow, she met his every demand, lifting her hips again and again to perfectly match his driving tempo. Sounds of their feverish coupling filled her head; the creak of the bed, the slap of Rafe’s flesh against hers, her frantic gasps and cries, his harsh groans. Anyone passing by her room would know exactly what they were doing, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered at all except for Rafe and the incredible things he was doing to her body.
Her inner passage began to ripple and a sob of joy escaped her. She was going to climax this way, she was sure of it.
Leaning his weight on one arm, Rafe suddenly grasped one of her legs with his other hand, changing the angle of his penetration. His hips ground harder against her excruciatingly sensitive sex whilst his relentlessly pounding cock, abraded some place deep inside her. Her sheath spasmed around him. Oh God. She was almost there.
As if attuned to her verging climax, Rafe released her leg and slid his hand between their bodies. His clever fingers stroked her swollen clitoris, pushing her higher. So high. He dipped his head and sucked on her bottom lip. “Come for me, Georgie,” he rasped against her mouth. “Come now.”
She couldn’t resist him. On a jagged cry of pure elation, she let her orgasm take her. It crashed through her like a tidal wave; the intensity of the pleasure was devastating, overwhelming; the rapture assailing her unlike anything she’d ever known.
As she quaked in Rafe’s arms, he continued to slam into her, prolonging her ecstasy even as he sought his own release. He swelled inside her then on a guttural groan, wrenched himself free of her body. His chest heaving, his whole body shuddering, he came, his hot seed spilling across her lower belly before he collapsed on top of her.
His substantial weight pinned her to the mattress but she didn’t mind. Not when she could feel his satisfied gasps warming her ear. The press of his lips against her temple. Her cheek.
She laced her fingers through the sweat-soaked hair at his nape and stroked the strong sinews of his neck. Completely content to bask in the warmth of her own afterglow, she began to surrender to the pull of drowsiness; until Rafe moved a little, reviving her awareness of the telltale stickiness between their bodies.
It wasn’t lost on her that Rafe had kept his word. Even in the throes of his own orgasm he had taken care of her, just like he’d said he would. He’d withdrawn from her before he’d expelled his seed. She supposed it was a sexual practice he customarily employed to guard against unwanted conceptions. Regardless of the reason behind his actions, she was grateful.
She’d already learned the hard way that not every man was so solicitous during sex.
Rafe stirred again and she hastily buried her unwanted, bitter memories.
“Forgive me, my sweet.” He raised himself onto his forearms and smiled down at her with such affection, her breath caught. “I’m crushing you.”
She smiled back and caressed his stubble-clad jaw. “I barely noticed.”
“Liar.” He gave her a lop-sided grin. “I’m sure I weigh a ton. And I have made a mess of your very beautiful belly. A most unsatisfactory situation that I must rectify.” He eased himself off the bed and within a minute, he returned to her side with the basin from her washstand, a washcloth and towel. As he gently sponged her body clean, she closed her eyes, content to enjoy the pleasurable sensations his touch never failed to arouse. Strange how within the space of a few hours she’d also become so completely unselfconscious around him. There was no doubt at all that he’d unequivocally changed her. She’d become the woman she’d longed to be—a woman no longer afraid to take a lover. A woman who took pleasure in sex.
A woman who could fall in love... If she let herself...
“There,” he said softly when he’d finished drying her. “Perfect again.”
She opened her eyes and caught his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her eyes suddenly misted with unexpected tears. “You’ll never know how much...” She hesitated, biting her lip, trying to regain a measure of control. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually this emotional. It’s just that you wanted to make this evening special for me and you have. I will never forget this night as long as I live.”
“Oh, Georgiana.” Rafe slid onto the bed and gathered her against his warm chest. “Don’t be sorry. I love it that you are sharing so much of yourself with me. And that you’ve let me show you the pleasure you’ve been long denied.” He raised one hand and cradled her cheek; his gray eyes held a tender light. “It is my fervent hope that you and I will share many more nights like this.”
His mouth suddenly kicked into a small, wicked smile as his gaze dropped to her lips. “And days.”
Oh, sweet Lord. He is insatiable. But then perhaps, so am I. Georgie pressed her mouth to Rafe’s, seeking the kiss he clearly offered. Gently, he explored her mouth, his lips sliding over hers with satiny softness, his tongue languidly entwining with hers. Tasting and teasing her. Loving her.
Dear God, she wished that were true.
“Stay with me tonight,” she whispered, when they at last broke apart, both of them breathless.
“Of course.” Rafe pulled the sheets and silk counterpane over them then settled back into the pillows. He gathered her close in his arms again and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Sleep now, sweetheart.”
“Good night, Rafe.” She snuggled into his beautiful, warm body, her head tucked beneath his chin. The sound of his strongly beating heart and the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled her. The scent of his skin, clean male overlaid with a pleasant muskiness, gently beguiled her. When he stroked her hair away from her face, she wanted to weep. It was so close to the heaven she’d always dreamed of when she was a debutante, it made her heart ache.
She closed her eyes. With all her heart, she wanted to trust Rafe, to believe that everything he’d said to her tonight was sincere. Even though she now believed she was more than a mere tumble for a few days, other concerns had begun to take form in her mind. She had no doubt that Rafe was a man she could fall deeply in love with. But despite the fact they’d been intimate in ways she’d never imagined, and now shared a bed, she still felt she barely knew him.
You know he has secrets that he’s keeping from you, Georgiana. Things he doesn’t want to talk about. She strongly suspected Rafe had never been just a diplomat, if he’d ever been one at all. He’d led a mysterious life on the Continent. He’d encountered physical violence and was plagued by nightmares from his past. He habitually scoured the shadows for danger. He was adept at both charming and reading people. Uncovering secrets.
He worked for the Crown.
She wasn’t naïve. He was most likely a spy. A man accustomed to living by his wits and telling others what they wanted to hear. A pretender of the highest caliber.
He might claim that he wished to establish a home here in England, but could a man with an obviously shadowy, perhaps even dark past, ever truly be free of it? Furthermore, would a man such as he, really want to settle into genteel domesticity with a woman like her—a twenty-eight-year-old widow with her own, much too complicated history? He’d hinted he had feelings for her more than once tonight. Made love to her; what they’d done, it went beyond sex. But even so, she was the type of woman that men like Rafe typically had affairs with. At best, she’d be his lover for a season. Nothing more.
But, God help me, after tonight, I do want more.
She drew a deep breath and Rafe’s addictive scent flooded her senses again. As tempting as it was to throw all caution to the wind, she must be circumspect when contemplating the future direction of any relationship with this enigmatic man. Somehow she must contain her welling hope and guard her heart for a little longer until she knew more about him. And his
true intentions.
Because when she gave her heart away, this time, it would be forever.
Chapter 13
This is heaven... That was Rafe’s first thought when he awoke to find dawn’s early light beginning to creep around the edges of the rose velvet curtains in the guest bedchamber. And Georgie’s beautiful naked body pressed against his. He’d stayed the entire night in her bed; a highly significant turn of events simply because it was something he’d rarely done—slept with a lover entwined in his arms. And on those few occasions that he had, it hadn’t compared to this. Not in the slightest.
His mouth lifted into a smile and his already erect cock grew harder as one of Georgie’s long, slender thighs brushed against his shaft. As she moved, her silky brown curls tickled his chest and the intoxicating scent of warm, sleepy female and her floral perfume filled his head. He had to have her again before he left this room.
More importantly, he wanted to show her how much he cared for her.
The fact she’d begun to trust him, combined with the knowledge that he was the first man in a very long time to have brought her satisfaction, was deeply gratifying to say the least. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he mentally revisited everything they’d done.
The night had been absolutely perfect except for one thing; his nightmare about Solange had been both unexpected and regrettable.
His smile turned to a grimace. What the devil Georgie would make of it all, he wasn’t sure. She had seemed to accept his feeble explanation about why he’d had the dream. And he was grateful she hadn’t pressed him for further information. God, he’d even spoken in French. He’d had no idea at all he sometimes called out in his sleep. Even more miraculous was the fact Georgie hadn’t thrown him out of her bed for calling out another woman’s name. One truth he’d been able to share with her was that he honestly hadn’t dreamt about his former paramour for years.
The Ice Duchess: Scandalous Regency Widows, Book 2 Page 19