A Daring Arrangement

by Joanna Shupe

  The pleasure rose and built, a wave that carried her higher, tightening all the muscles in her body until she could hardly bear it. She threw her head back and dragged air into her lungs.

  “I need to watch your face this time,” he said, his own breathing none too steady.

  The idea of him studying while he tortured her with those magic fingers tipped her over. The orgasm rushed upon her, sweeping and lifting, an explosion of white light that obliterated everything else around her. From a distance, she heard herself shout as she trembled from head to toe.

  When she floated back to herself, she first saw glittering blue eyes, half-lidded and intense. He held himself very still, tense, as if struggling to maintain control. She would much rather he lost control. Turn his brilliant brain off for a few moments and just feel. “Am I permitted to touch you at some point?”

  The side of his mouth hitched. “I wouldn’t dream of stopping you. But perhaps we should retreat to the bedroom first.”

  “I thought we were staying here.”

  “If you are game for a bit of creativity, I’m certain we can manage here. I’d rather you were more comfortable, however.” He helped her stand, arranged her skirts, and then rose. “I worried that asking you to meet me in my bedroom would scare you off.”

  It very well might have. Probably wise on his part. “Now where to?”

  “My bedroom connects off the turret stairs. No one will discover us—that is, if you can keep quieter than a few moments ago.”

  “You have only yourself to blame,” she said, though she knew he was teasing her. “And we shall see who is the loudest before the night is through, I suppose.”

  He kissed her nose. “I look forward to the competition. Follow me.”

  Hands linked, they traveled down the spiral stairs silently, quickly, until they reached one of the doors built into an alcove. He pulled the knob and the heavy wood popped out from the wall. A mysterious dark nook was revealed, but Nora couldn’t see much of it as she stepped over the threshold.

  Julius flicked a lever and then pushed on the side of the nook. A large panel shifted, swung outward.

  “How very clever,” she said, eyes wide as she continued into what was clearly a man’s dressing room. “This house is full of surprises.”

  “It should be. I designed it.” He shut the door to the turret stairs and then closed the hidden panel, sealing them into the dressing room.

  He took her arm, led her through another door. His bedroom. She drank in the sight of the dark walnut paneling, heavy furniture, thick carpet, and cream papered walls. A blaze had been set in the huge marble fireplace. The space was opulent but functional, exactly what she would have expected of him. “I like it.”

  “Good. I’d hoped you would.”

  After locking both doors, he crossed to where she stood in front of the fire. He stared into her eyes, serious for a moment. “Any regrets?” She shook her head, and he asked, “Any hesitations?”

  She considered this. The trip to New York had been forced on her, punishment for daring to love someone not of her class. She had thought to punish her father right back with the most outlandish, inappropriate man she could find. That man turned out to be intelligent and kind, forthright and funny, a perfect match for her in every way. And while there was no future for her and Julius—at least not the way she’d been taught, with marriage and children—she meant to enjoy every bit of this while it lasted. Build memories to keep a lifetime.

  Life was much too short to play by anyone’s rules but her own.

  She placed her palm on his chest. His heart pounded beneath her hand, his body radiating heat. “None.”

  A sturdy arm encircled her waist, bringing her hips flush to his, not bothering to hide his erection. “Any requests?”

  She had the sense of standing at a crossroads, deciding between what was expected of her and the excitement of the unknown. She was ready to take a new path.

  “Just one.” Rising on her toes, she looped her arms over his shoulders. “Hurry.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Julius found himself grinning as he bent his head to kiss her once more. Had he ever smiled this much with any other woman? Nora was such an interesting, complicated mix of proper and unconventional, capable and inexperienced. She fascinated him, and he loved that he never knew what she might say or do next.

  They kissed until she clung to him, both of them panting, and he broke free to begin working on the fastenings of her dress. She’d worn a silk evening gown, a strange choice for an illicit rendezvous where only he would see her, but he wasn’t complaining. She was stunning, the pale pink showing off her flawless, creamy skin. The dress would look even better on the carpet, however, with her naked body spread beneath him.

  He loved undressing a woman, anticipation building while layer after layer fell away. Men were so simple, so basic; a cock pulled out of trousers was all one needed in just about every situation. Not much else mattered. With this particular woman, however, he longed to see every inch of her, to find every freckle, kiss every sensitive spot that drove her wild. Lifting skirts for a quick fuck had its uses, he supposed, but he much preferred to take his time with Nora. Reveal her bit by bit, each glimpse of skin tempting him.

  The bodice of the dress parted and he pushed it off her shoulders, down her arms. He devoured the sight of her bare limbs and collarbones before unhooking her overskirt and letting it fall to her feet. She wore a pale pink corset cover, which he removed handily to reveal a matching corset beneath. The flesh of her breasts nearly spilled out over the top. He started to reach for the fastenings and she knocked his fingers out of the way to untie his necktie.

  “Hardly the right place to start,” he murmured, smirking at her.

  “I’ll work my way there, do not worry.” The necktie came free and she asked, “Since you have a particular order in mind, shall I move on to your waistcoat?”

  “In America they’re called vests. And yes, that is a logical next step.”

  He toed off his shoes while she undid the buttons, her fingers occasionally brushing his stomach through his clothing, causing ripples of sensation to roll through him. The vest landed on the floor. She pushed his suspenders over his shoulders and then concentrated on his collar and shirt. Finally, he dragged the fabric over his head and tossed it aside. She was already intently working on the tiny buttons of his combination, her brow furrowed, her skin flushed, breathing every bit as unsteady as his own.

  The undergarment separated as she moved lower, revealing his chest and the light blond hair covering his sternum. Without warning, she lifted a hand and stroked his bare skin with her fingertips. He shuddered, lust sharp and swift through his gut. His cock thickened further, the tenuous hold on his control beginning to unravel.

  “My turn.” He started on her corset. One by one, the fastenings parted until the entire piece came off in his hand. He could see the shape of her breasts, full and luscious with dusky tips, through the thin cotton of her chemise. Sliding his hand over her hip and ribs, he cupped a soft mound, the delectable weight filling his palm, before dipping his head and kissing the exposed flesh above the fabric. She smelled like spring. Like lavender and wide meadows. Like heaven. His heart gave an unexpected lurch in his chest, unfamiliar and unbidden.

  Stop. She doesn’t belong to you. She will never belong to you.

  He straightened, returning to the purpose of the evening. “Lie down.”

  She bent to remove her shoes and then crossed to the wide bed along the wall, her hips shifting with each step. He followed, slower, contemplating all the things he longed to do tonight. Undoubtedly there wouldn’t be enough time for the entire list . . . but he would certainly try.

  Once on the mattress, she shifted to the middle. Met his gaze, one brow boldly raised. As if she were daring him.

  And then she removed her chemise.

  Julius’s jaw fell as Nora reached for the hem and then wiggled out of the undergarment. Flames roared th
rough him, like a shovel of coal tossed into a blast furnace, as her naked torso came into view. Slightly rounded stomach, round breasts tipped with taut nipples, milky white skin over long limbs. All that remained were her drawers and stockings.

  Fuck. She was a vision. Like every prurient dream he’d dared to allow himself. He could not wait to peel those drawers and stockings off, get her completely naked for the first time. The first of many, he hoped.

  His hands shook as he unbuttoned his trousers. He stepped out of them and tossed the garment aside. Her eyes immediately dipped to his erection, which was pushing against the thin fabric of his combination, and widened. She seemed . . . surprised. Was she an innocent after all?

  So as to not frighten her, he left the undergarment on and crawled onto the bed, stretching out alongside her. She turned toward him and he placed a palm on her face. “All right? We do not need to—”

  “I hadn’t realized you were all different.” Her brown eyes flicked to his groin, her throat swallowing. “There. I assumed they were all the same.”

  Oh. “Size, you mean?” She nodded, her cheeks flushing crimson. More pieces about the illustrious Robert fell into place. “I couldn’t really say, as I don’t often see naked men these days, but there is variation. Like with breasts. All sizes are a possibility. I realize I may be on the larger side but we’ll fit. You’ll see.”

  “Easy for you to say, considering your role in all this.”

  He couldn’t help it; a laugh escaped. “True.” Leaning in, he kissed the tip of her nose. “But I’ve never lied to you—and I won’t hurt you.”

  Placing his palm under her jaw, he angled her head and captured her mouth with his own. He lifted her leg and draped it over his hip, opening her to accommodate him. With one roll of his hips, the hard ridge of his cock rubbed her slit and the friction caused them both to groan. His balls tightened, the pleasure nearly painful.

  He thrust again.

  Her nails dug into his skin. “Oh my God. Julius.”

  Vaguely, he wondered if he could make her come like this. If he weren’t so desperate for her, he might very well try. Rolling her onto her back, he sat up to untie her drawers, lowering them off her hips and down her legs. Stockings next, and then she was bare. In seconds, he shrugged out of his combination and flipped their positions, her knees straddling his hips as she poised above him.

  Her forehead crumpled. “What are we doing?”

  Using his fingers between her legs, he stroked her until she shuddered. “It will be easier for you this way.” He slipped a finger into her heat, the warm slippery walls grasping him, while his thumb circled her clitoris. His free hand toyed with one of her nipples, pinching and rolling, and soon she was rocking her hips, seeking, moaning, so he added a second finger. Then a third. He wanted inside her so desperately. A fine sheen of sweat broke out all over his body from the effort to restrain himself.

  When her cries turned to pleas, he withdrew his fingers from her core and positioned the tip of his penis at her entrance. He guided her lower, gently, until the crown plunged inside. Goddamn. So hot, so tight. He clenched his jaw and beat back the urge to thrust upward. To bury himself in that nirvana. She held herself still and he could see the confusion in her glazed dark gaze. “Slide down,” he gritted out. “Go at your own pace. Take as much as you can.”

  Nodding, she bit her lip and applied herself to the task, shifting and adjusting. Julius’s hands dropped to the mattress, clutching the coverlet in a death grip as he struggled to remain still. “God, yes,” he said. “Keep going.”

  Each wriggle, each twist of her hips was the sweetest torture. He feared he’d never last, that he’d come long before she had seated herself, but he somehow managed it. Her groin finally met his, the two of them breathing as if they’d just run a race.

  “Oh my,” she whispered, her lids slammed shut.

  “You feel so damn good.” He gave her another second to adjust, then rolled his pelvis, his erection pleading for movement. She threw her head back, her mouth parted on a silent groan.

  “More,” she said. Julius gripped her hips and moved her, showing her how to proceed. She caught on quickly, picking up the rhythm and taking over, allowing him to cup her swaying breasts and squeeze her nipples between his fingers.

  “That’s it,” he crooned. “Keep riding me. I’m so deep inside you right now.” Pleasure built in the base of his spine, down his legs. He could hardly believe this was Nora, his wild English beauty, riding him with abandon. She was a female conqueror, he her willing captive. She’d never appeared more gorgeous than right now, naked and uninhibited, astride him. Sliding his thumb to where they were joined, he stroked her, desperate to push her over the edge.

  Her thighs tightened, nails carving into his stomach. “God, yes. Oh, God. Julius.”

  “Come for me, my lady.” He said it low in his throat, the way she liked, and she seemed to stop breathing, her walls clamping down on him, shudders racking her body. A moan tore from her throat. He drove up then, riding her through her orgasm, waiting until she came down before flipping them over so she was on her back, where he began thrusting hard, his own release unavoidable. In hardly any time at all, his erection thickened, balls tingling, and he jerked out of her just before he started spurting. Long white ropes shot from his tip and onto her stomach, his fist flying over his shaft to milk every drop.

  When he stopped shaking, he sat back on his heels and tried to catch his breath. Nora appeared equally undone, sprawled on his bed, legs spread, her eyes hooded. His spend coated her skin and he felt not one ounce of regret. A surge of territorial male pride filled his chest instead. With the tip of a finger, he smoothed the proof of his orgasm into her body, marking her. “I like seeing you like this, covered in me.”

  She didn’t appear shocked or scandalized. No, she merely trembled, her gaze following the movement of his hand. “You are a wicked, wicked man.”

  “Oh, I’ve only just begun.”

  Nora wasn’t certain her limbs would ever work again. She and Julius were now in his bathing suite, relaxing in the largest porcelain tub she’d ever seen. Warm water lapped over her bare skin, an even warmer male at her back as she reclined on his chest.

  They’d both fallen silent in the aftermath of their intimacy. Ever since catching her breath, she’d been lost in a sea of her own thoughts, trying to make sense of it all, not protesting as he tugged her to the bathing suite to clean her up.

  Tonight had been unexpected. There had been pleasure, yes. A lot, in fact. However, there’d also been a connection beyond the physical. In those times when he had stared into her eyes, the lust and longing so clear in his gaze, she sensed something deep and powerful between them. As if there could never be anyone else. Her heart had swelled so full it threatened to burst.

  Intimacies with Robert hadn’t been anything like this.

  She wanted to feel guilty. She should feel guilty. What woman flitted from one man to another so quickly without being labeled a harlot? Perhaps she deserved the title. After all, it had only been days since she wrote to Robert and ended their association. How could she have forgotten him so quickly? She hadn’t thought about Robert hardly at all since posting that letter. Instead, another man had consumed her thoughts.

  It’s because Robert was an act of desperation. Trying to gain Papa’s attention. Julius is for you, no one else. A selfish, temporary slice of happiness.

  Perhaps.

  And perhaps she was trying to rationalize her reckless behavior, one that could have very real consequences. Her governess had warned her for years against “loose” behavior. Women who had children out of wedlock were doomed to a life as an outcast. She could still feel the mortification when her father had demanded to know if she were carrying Robert’s child.

  “No,” she’d answered, shame burning her skin. “Definitely not.”

  “Good,” he’d said. “Then we’ll send you to America and forget this ever happened.”

  At
the time, she’d protested, saying she would never forget Robert or their love for one another.

  How quickly that had proven to be false.

  Worse, something told her Julius wouldn’t be as easy to forget, even though that hardly made any sense. She’d only known him a short while. But in the end, he would not marry her, so she’d eventually need to move on. Hope to find a husband who hadn’t heard of her past.

  “You are unusually quiet.” Using the cloth, Julius squeezed water onto her breasts, the droplets sliding over the pale globes. “Are you changing your answer about regrets?”

  “No.” She meant that, despite the emotional distance between them since they left the bedroom. Thankfully, he’d given her time and hadn’t pushed until now. She broached the one topic nagging at her. “Do you regret that I wasn’t innocent?”

  He made a noise in his throat. “Of course not. Would be a bit hypocritical of me, considering my experience. Besides, it’s not as if we are truly getting married.”

  A slice of pain went through her at the reminder. “If we were,” she continued, “would it bother you if your bride had been intimate with another man besides you?” Am I everything society believes of me? Have I ruined my chance at a future?

  “Hell, no. Growing up as I did, far below the gilded ceilings of New York society, we were more practical about those things. Women were discreet, yes, and whatever happened outside of marriage was kept private.”

  “So you wouldn’t think less of her?”

  His arms wrapped around her tightly, his lips at her ear. “Nora, I want you—not your hymen. You are worth more to me than any useless body part. And any man who bases his need for you on what you are lacking isn’t seeing everything you are, everything you will be.”

  Pressure built behind her lids, a tingling of emotion welling to the surface. “Thank you.”

  Clever fingers slipped to roll and pinch her nipples, causing her to gasp. “You’re most welcome.”