Did she know that the heat of anger was a hair’s breadth from sensual passion? And if there was one thing he had learned as a lonely boy with a heart full of loss and rage—the passion of sensual pleasure could numb the pain. For a time.
He broke their kiss slowly with a series of little licks and nibbles until he could lift his head and look down at her face. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted and rosy, her face dreamy. A vision of a sensual woman, delicious and enchanting...
And totally out of bounds. If he didn’t watch out he’d be forced to marry the chit and, for all that he found her utterly tempting, she was not the sort of woman Jaimie wanted for his second wife.
He began to move away, to put an end to what could only be called folly, but Tess twined her arm around his neck and stroked his face.
‘That was lovely.’ She swallowed. ‘I feel hot all over and strangely tense. I suppose to you this is nothing. A mere bagatelle.’ Her eyes were hazy, her lips moist and lush, and the appeal for reassurance in her voice simply too hard to resist.
‘I am filled with desire, my sweet. For you.’
A pleased smile curved her lips. ‘You are?’
And having said such a thing, how could he simply get up and leave, as he had intended? The little confidence she had gained would be shredded in an instant.
She needed to feel desirable. To feel wanted.
Was he thinking with his rational mind, or was this just what he wanted to believe?
Tess tightened her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, this time taking the initiative by touching her tongue to his. A tentative little flick that arrowed all the way to his bollocks. And then he wasn’t thinking any more—he was kissing her back and revelling in the feel of her along his length as they stretched out on the covers.
Why should she not know how much pleasure she could give and receive? He doubted Stedman would ever revere her in this way.
While he gave himself to the sensation of her kiss, Jaimie gently worked free the first button of her spencer, revealing her delicate collarbone. Breaking away from her lips and ignoring her little noise of protest, he pressed his lips to the hollow it formed and she sighed with pleasure. Another button gave way to his fingers, and a third. He spread the jacket apart, revealing the low neckline of her gown and the rise of her beautiful breasts. Saints be praised, the light summer gown was one of those that fastened with a ribbon at the front, though he’d have to get her out of her spencer to get her stays undone, if he wanted to fully enjoy the bounty of her magnificent breasts...
He kissed the shadow in the valley between them and the hand resting on his shoulder moved to his nape, Tess’s fingers winnowing through his hair, sending shivers of pleasure across his scalp. He inhaled, filling his lungs with her scent: lavender and something darker. His lips found the bow and he used his teeth to tug at one of the tails. It unravelled. The fabric loosened and he pulled it down, revealing stays and shift. Front-closing stays.
Hallelujah.
He raised up on one elbow, seeking her reaction. Her eyes were open now, her gaze alert, though her fingers continued to play in his hair, sending little tingles of pleasure down his spine.
He swallowed a groan and quelled the urge to open his falls and drive deep into her heat. She was a lady, for heaven’s sake, and for all her boldness, as naive as the day was long. He cursed. This was not what he should be doing. He started to pull away once more. Her hand tightened in his hair, holding him in place. With his greater strength it would be easy to break free, yet his willpower wasn’t so strong.
And besides, he wasn’t going to ravage her, just give her a little pleasure; let her see what she really deserved as a woman.
To his surprise, with her gaze fixed on his, she unfastened the knot at the bottom of her stays, pulling the tapes free and, with well-practised swiftness, parting them to reveal the bounty of her beautiful, heavy breasts. The peaks were hard, the aureoles the colour of soft doeskin, beneath the filmy fabric of her shift. Without thinking he licked one of the tight little buds, feeling her shiver and her moan of pleasure. She rolled towards him, giving Jaimie better access, and he took the weight of that gorgeous soft flesh in his hand and drew the nipple into his mouth again, suckling until she cried out.
While she shuddered with pleasure he pulled her skirt up over her hips, and eased his knee between her thighs. She let her legs fall open in welcome. A niggling doubt about her innocence entered his mind, but his body no longer cared what his mind thought.
His fingers traced the tops of the stockings, caressed the silky skin above in little strokes and circles. When they found the heat between her legs and combed through the little patch of curls already damp with desire, she froze.
‘It’s all right,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘I’ll do nothing to hurt you.’ Nothing to ruin her, though the urge to plunge his shaft deep into her heat was primal and demanding.
He caught her knee in the crook of his elbow and, sitting back on his heels, gazed at the view she presented. Damp chestnut curls, delicate rosy folds, a channel that beckoned him to drive home. ‘So lovely,’ he breathed. He stroked his fingers through the tight curls, seeking her centre with his thumb: the little nub that would send her flying apart, hidden deep. When he found it and circled his thumb, Tess jumped. She was so aroused already, it seemed it was impossibly sensitive. He pressed down with the heel of his palm and her moan of pleasure was fuel to the fire building inside him.
When he lightened his touch, her hips rose seeking more. A woman who knew what she wanted, even if she did not know the exact details. He could give her this knowledge, so she would know what to require from a husband.
Chapter Six
Heat rushed through every vein in Tess’s body at the look on Jaimie’s face as he looked at her down there. It was if he’d found some marvellous treasure. A storm of sensation rioted along her veins from the place his hand applied pressure. Heat, tingles, pulses of exquisite pleasure sent her soaring. Her limbs became liquid, moving with boneless slowness.
She draped her arms over his shoulders, amazed at their breadth and strength beneath his dandified clothes. Beneath the air of languid elegance resided a powerful masculinity.
His touch was bliss. Heaven on earth. Yet deep inside her mind clamoured a warning. Danger. Even she knew better than to trust a man in the heat of passion.
Yet her mind was sluggish, her emotions swooping and soaring with the touch of his tongue to hers, with the feel of his hand heavy on her breast and the tantalising pressure between her legs.
She raised her hips, pressing into that tormenting hand, her vision filled with darkness, her mind turned inward to that one point of pleasure. Wholly wanton. And delicious.
Even so, there was something else, a hardness against her hip, nudging at her as if seeking her attention.
His male parts. His twig and berries, Mims had called it when issuing one of her warnings about lust-filled men—something to be feared, by all accounts.
And yet... Tess let her hand stroke over the broad expanse of Jaimie’s chest, over the narrow firm hip, to the place where his body pressed into hers.
He stilled, raised his head, and gazed into her face.
‘No, sweetheart,’ he said softly, his hand pressing down against her mons Veneris, making her squirm and moan. His mouth returned to hers, his tongue teasing at her lips, begging for entry.
She angled her face away. ‘I want to touch you, too.’ It was only fair.
Sandford choked and she wondered if he was laughing. Finding her amusing. She shifted so she could see his expression and he indeed had laughter in his eyes, but not the mocking smile he so often wore.
He lightly patted her curls at the apex to her thighs. A strange tingle took her breath away and tightened her insides. She gasped.
He took her wandering hand and guided it to
his groin, pressing her palm against the hard ridge of flesh, curling her fingers along its length.
‘It is bigger than I expected,’ she said, carefully outlining the shape.
‘You honour me, sweet,’ he said and again he sounded amused and pleased, too. He rocked into her hand and hissed a breath through his teeth, his expression full of strain and pleasure.
Far more than handsome, perfectly beautiful.
She glanced down where his hand covered hers and the heat of his maleness permeated through his clothing into her palm. A pulse of pleasure tightened her insides.
‘Can I see?’
‘Saints, you are killing me.’
A flick of anger tightened her skin. She glanced down where her skirts were bunched at her waist. ‘So it is all right for you to look, but not me?’
Again that choked back laugh. He released her hand. ‘Have at it, my lady, but know you, there is peril in that naughty lad.’
‘I’m not afraid.’
Yet the rapid beating of her heart, her sudden breathlessness, said she just might be. Pah. She wasn’t completely an innocent, she’d grown up in the country—she’d seen horses in the midst of procreation. Swallowing the sudden dryness in her throat, she watched him unbutton his falls and tug free the tails of his shirt. What emerged from the white linen was nothing like a stallion at all. It was lovely. Smooth, dark with blood and gnarled with blue-coloured veins; the blunt purplish tip had the look of fine satin. She grazed it gently with the pad of her thumb.
He hissed in a breath.
She glanced up at his face. ‘It is tender?’
‘Very.’ He once more took her hand in his and curled her fingers around the shaft. He pushed into her fist with a groan. ‘Tighter, Tess. Yes. Like that.’ He rocked into her, his movement steady and rhythmic, the skin beneath her palm silky, sliding along the hardness beneath. His hand left hers, leaving her in control, and she watched in amazement as a glistening pearl of moisture appeared at the tip.
His hand returned to her mons, his thumb easing deeper into her folds, and—
She gasped as the amazing sensation once more tingled along every nerve in her body.
‘There you are,’ he said, sounding softly triumphant, and his touch became more intense and faster—his hips moved faster, too.
He kissed her deeply.
Her body clenched, every muscle tightening deep inside. It was unbearable.
She groaned and sought to break the tension.
He broke the kiss and put his mouth over her breast. Despite her shift, the heat and wet was lovely. He suckled. A delicious shock seared her. Her breasts tightened. A streak like lightning, hot and sharp, shot from her nipple to low in her belly.
She cried out. ‘Sandford!’
He groaned. ‘Let go, Tess. I’ve got you. I will not let you fall.’
Yes. That was what was happening. She was ascending the heights. Going higher, further away.
‘Hold on, Tess,’ he said, his voice rough, his breathing ragged.
Her mind wouldn’t work, but something knew and she gripped him harder and then the sensation of his touches became too much, too overwhelming.
Fear gripped her.
‘Let go, Tess.’ Demanding. ‘Let go. I will catch you.’ An order.
In this he was her master. Only this. And then he altered the rhythm against that supremely sensitive flesh at her core, harder, faster. The change caught her off guard and she finally let go and flew apart.
A scream rang in her ears.
A moment later, shattered and mindless, she floated on languid heat and shocking bliss.
Aware of him once more, his hand holding hers tight around his hot length. Still moving, his male flesh hard like hot steel. He groaned a deep and feral growl. His hand brushing hers away as he buried himself in the folds of his shirttails and rolled on to his back. He groaned and shuddered.
Unable to move, she lay looking at his lovely face, all hard angles, a lean jaw, a jutting aristocratic nose, a faint haze of dark stubble on his chin and an expression of such gentleness, it pulled at something in her chest. A yearning.
Heaven help her, what had she done?
He cracked an eye open and pulled her close to rest her head upon his shoulder.
‘It is all right, Tess. I promise.’
She wasn’t sure if anything would be all right again.
No wonder Mims had issued such dire warnings. Because, despite the amazing experience they’d just shared, it wasn’t enough. She sensed there was even more pleasure to be had, but he had kept his promise and ensured things didn’t go too far. Heaven help her, was that disappointment she felt? She could not let this happen again.
* * *
Jaimie came awake with a start. The insistent prodding at his shoulder intensified. ‘Lord Sandford.’
He forced his eyelids open and gazed up into the face of an anxious-looking Tess. He yawned and stretched with a feeling of well-being. ‘Surely after our recent intimacies you might stoop to calling me Jaimie. All my friends do.’
Not that he had that many friends. He preferred his own company as a general rule. But to his surprise he did count Tess as a friend—of a sort. For a brief moment, he thought she would refuse as there was such an annoyed expression on her face.
‘Very well. Jaimie.’
He smiled at her and she blinked and looked away. ‘The caretaker is going to be coming to check on us if we do not go downstairs soon.’
His sluggish brain processed the words. ‘I doubt the old fellow could make it up here.’ He gave another yawn and pushed up on one elbow, taking in the fact that she was on her feet and once more encased in full armour, or at least spencer and bonnet. Her hair was also neatly ordered. She had been busy while he’d momentarily drifted off, curse it.
She moved away from the bed and turned to look out of the window. ‘You should dress.’
He glanced down. Fortunately his shirt covered him. He had no wish to shock her any more than he already had. An image of her face as she shattered in ecstasy popped into his mind and his body warmed. His body began to stir once more. Hell. That would not do.
He swung his legs of the edge of the bed furthest from her and began setting himself to rights.
How was it possible that it was be happening again so soon? Now was not the right time. But he did want it to happen again, damn him for a fool. He glanced in the mirror, ran his fingers though his hair, until it looked carefully disordered instead of simply untidy. ‘Right. Shall we go down?’
She turned and gave him a raking glance from his head to his heels. Thankfully she seemed satisfied, because she nodded and took his proffered arm.
She took a step towards the door.
He halted her with a touch to her hand. When she looked up at him, he smiled at her, then brushed her lips with his. ‘Thank you, my dear sweet Tess.’
A look of discomfort crossed her face, but then she chuckled, a low throaty sound that put his blood on alert. ‘Thank you. Oh, how awkward it is. How does one respond after such...’ she waved a hand at the bed ‘...occurrences?’
He swallowed a laugh. ‘It is difficult, I admit. I often wonder how married couples can accomplish it day after day.’
She stiffened.
Damn, that had been the wrong thing to say. He grimaced. Why was it that around her his normal astuteness seemed to flee? ‘I am sorry we will not get to travel back to town together, I must say.’
‘You are?’
‘Well, I must concentrate on how to find your Mr Hammond.’
The stiffness left her shoulders. A look of defeat crossed her face. ‘I think Ingram Manor was my absolute last hope, quite honestly.’ She glanced at the now-reordered dressing table. ‘I have decided not to look any further. If Grey had wanted me to find him, he would have surely contacted me bef
ore now.’
She sounded so weary he wanted to take Hammond by his shirt fronts and give him a good shake.
Unfortunately, he agreed with her. ‘I think we should speak with your erstwhile housekeeper before we depart Farningham, don’t you?’
Her lips tightened. ‘I suppose it would be wise. There is very little chance he would have contacted her, however.’
‘No stone left unturned, Lady Tess.’
She nodded. ‘And then we will simply leave it at that, Lord Sandford.’
The emphasis on the lord part made it quite clear that she intended not to have any more dealings with him either. ‘I think it would be best.’ At least, it would be best that she did not continue to seek this wayward brother of hers. As for the rest of it, well...
A regretful smile curved her lips. ‘Thank you for not offering me false hope. I do not like to be thought a fool.’
At the top of the stairs he stepped back so she could go ahead and once again enjoyed watching her diminutive figure. He understood that her sadness was not only about their failure to find Hammond. It was about her impending nuptials.
Naturally, she had already forgotten he had made her a promise to find her brother. She did not know him well enough to realise he always kept his word.
The caretaker, sitting on a chair in the hallway at the bottom of the steps, eyed them curiously, but if he had any suspicions about what had taken them so long he did not give them voice.
‘Leggat, you said your daughter works at the vicarage,’ Tess said.
The old man creaked to his feet. ‘She do, my lady. Unfortunately, she is absent at the moment, seeing as how me other daughter needed her help at her lying in.’
Tess made a sound of annoyance, then laughed somewhat wryly. ‘Of course she is away.’
The old man looked puzzled.
Rescued by the Earl's Vows Page 9