The need within her built. She wanted to touch him. See him naked. Explore his body as he was exploring hers and bring to him the same place he was taking her. She tugged his head up. “I want to touch you. And see you everywhere.”
A sensuous smile pulled at his mouth. He stepped back and stripped off his clothes, layer by heart-pounding layer. When he got to his shirt and pulled it over his head, she thanked God for the now full moon as the corded muscles of his abdomen rippled with the movement of his powerful arms. He tossed the shirt away, bent to tug off his boots and then stood for a second, perhaps to let her drink him in.
She did, ravaging his gleaming flesh with her eyes, and when she couldn’t resist a second longer, she flew against him, running her hands over the hard ridges and secretive planes of his sculpted body. His muscles jumped under her exploring fingers and her heart jumped right along with his body. She lowered her trembling, eager hands to his breeches and fumbled trying to get them undone. His large hands covered hers at once, calming, stilling, reassuring. Together they undid the ties and she pulled his remaining clothing down until he was able to kick the layers away.
She didn’t have time to right herself. Strong hands came under her arms and pulled her gently up the length of his overwhelming body. The heat of his desire singed her through the thin material of her gown.
He raked his eyes up and down her length and motioned her to turn around. When she did, his hands circled around her body just below her chest and hauled her up against his body so that the length of his need prodded her lower back. She threw her head back with longing as a moan escaped between her pulsing lips. He slid his hands slowly over her exposed, sensitive flesh, gently pinching one bud and then the other. She gritted her teeth against the scream of pleasure that wanted to erupt.
A hoarse growl came from behind her, as his hands cupped between her legs and started massaging her until she wiggled and whimpered. She was coming undone from the inside out. Soon, she’d splinter if he didn’t take her. She was sure of it. “Please,” she demanded.
His hands stopped their motion abruptly and then flew to her back, and before she knew it, she was standing perfectly naked, her back pressed to his throbbing length. The springy hairs of his powerful thighs tickled her skin as he nudged his leg between hers until she spread them apart for him. Inside her body, a great tug and pull commenced, starting in her belly and spiraling downward to her core, where an ache blossomed.
As he kissed a fiery trail over the backs of her shoulders and up and down each side of her neck, gooseflesh rose over her entire body. She shivered with unrestrained need. “Now?”
“Soon,” he promised in a throaty voice.
His hard, hot, slick length came between her legs and she tensed in expectation and a bit of fear. He slid his hand over her hips and between her thighs to the valley of her most private area. His fingers gently parted her throbbing parts and playfully caressed her.
She couldn’t stand the painful need building from within. She grabbed his thighs and dug her nails in and tugged in a desperate attempt to make him come inside her. His fingers touched on the spot between her legs that pulsed with its own life and when he started gently to massage her there, her entire body strummed to the beat of his movements. He played her like an intimate instrument, bringing her body to a deafening crescendo that culminated in spasms, stripping her of all her strength. She arched out like a bow about to break, quiver after quiver racking her, and pure, sweet heat flooding her veins.
She sagged into his hands even as his member nudged farther between her legs to tease the heated opening of her body. She spread further for him, his hotness and hardness consuming her. She wanted him. Expected him. Hoped for him. Withdrawing with a growl, he whipped her around and gave her a hard kiss on the mouth.
She blinked at him, dazed. “Is something wrong?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “You strip me of my control. I want to take you hard and fast, and I will, but not today. Not when you’ve never had a man inside of you. There’s a time for romance and a time for rough play. Today is the time for more gentleness.”
She opened her mouth to disagree, but he placed a finger over her lips. “Trust me.”
She nodded numbly as he strode up the steps of the garden cottage. His firm buttocks flexed as he walked. He belonged to her, body and soul. He’d said so. Joy took her breath once more. Before she knew it, he came back out holding several blankets. He laid them in the entranceway and then took her by the hand and gently guided her to her back.
Before she could settle fully, he loomed over her, his hands coming to either side of her shoulders. He bent down until his mouth found her neck and he alternated between kissing and sucking his way down her neck to her breasts. He lavished one breast with attention and then the other. And as he started to move down her stomach with feathery kisses, she grabbed his shoulders and stopped him.
He glanced up, his eyebrows arched. “What is it, my love?”
Silently she tugged him again, until he was above her once more. She reached down between them and stroked him between his thighs. The groan of pleasure that came from him made her smile. He’d undone her moments ago. Now it was her turn. She may not know exactly what to do, but his responses would guide her.
Releasing him so she could push up toward him on her palms, she said, “I want to touch you as I’ve dreamed of so many nights.”
“You’ve dreamed of touching me?”
The husky incredulity in his voice helped chase away the heat of the blush staining her cheeks. “Yes. For quite some time now. Will you let me?”
“Will I let you?” He grinned wickedly and in a flash was beside her on his back. “Do with me what you will, my little wench.”
A thrill coursed through her and filled her with boldness unlike anything she’d ever known. She scrambled to her knees and knelt over him, touching him tentatively at first. The smooth hard length of his desire both fascinated and amazed her. Every time she stroked him, he growled in a way that told her she was bringing him painful pleasure. Embolden with her newfound power, she stroked him faster, her heartbeat increasing with each sweep of her hand.
Suddenly, he grasped her shoulders and pushed her onto her back before coming over her as her lips parted in surprise. His eyes burned as sweat dampened his brow. “If you keep that up, I’ll succumb before I want to.”
She pouted playfully. “But I want to bring you pleasure.”
He reached down, grasped her hips and lifted her bottom toward him. She opened her thighs to get closer and as she did so, the hard length she’d stroked only moments before came to the juncture between her legs that throbbed with need. A momentary spasm of fright took her. She curled her fingers into his muscular thighs. “No hesitation.”
“You’re sure?”
His voice was no more than a raw rumble. She nodded and his hands pressed tighter, lifted her higher, and in one quick thrust he filled her. The pain was sharp and made her cringe. Trent held very still, which she was utterly grateful for. The sensation of having him inside her was very foreign. She felt stretched, full and at first uncomfortable, but then something happened. She locked gazes with him and offered a wobbly smile at the tenderness filling his eyes. The pain was dulling quickly and as it did, she noticed the other sensations curling in her abdomen. The pulsating ache was back and she desperately wanted him to help her make the ache stop.
“Trent.” His name was a plea for understanding from her lips.
He didn’t say a word but gripped her hips tighter and withdrew himself almost to the tip, leaving her feeling empty until he slowly slid all the way back in to the hilt. He repeated the motion with such exquisite preciseness that she caught his rhythm, learned it, met it and matched it to her own.
Soon nothing but dizzying tingling sensations filled her as her body clenched tightly around his. His movements became faster and harder. Whether he was matching her pace or leading her, she wasn’t certain anymore. She
had to reach some peak, she knew it instinctually. Only he could take her there.
Heat built within her with each slick stroke he offered. She wanted to scream out but feared being heard. “Trent, please,” she managed between her clenched teeth.
“Shh, darling. I know.” His strokes didn’t lessen as he leaned his body toward her, and his hips rested on hers, causing his body to rub at her most sensitive parts. A scream of delight ripped from her mouth, but the noise was lost to Trent’s lips coming over hers.
He plunged his tongue inside her mouth and moved his hips in slow, torturous circles. Inside, she burst as spasms took her. Above her, Trent grunted, lifted her to his chest and thrust deeply. His hands circled her back as hot liquid poured into her. They stayed locked in each other’s embrace and panting heavily. She rested her chin on his shoulder, glancing up at the starry night sky and bright moon while marveling at the perfectness of the moment.
“You’re mine,” she whispered and then kissed his neck.
He pulled back and stared into her eyes. “I was yours from the moment I met you. It just took me a while to admit I’d been captured.”
Later the next day Trent strolled into Wolverton’s club, which was empty due it being midafternoon. Business hours at a hellfire club like Wolverton’s did not begin until late at night. Trent kept his bag of coin out he had used to convince the young lad at the door to let him in. No doubt it might take more blunt before Wolverton’s notoriously protective employees would let Trent see the man. Trent was prepared to pay, cajole or threaten, whichever the situation may call for, to get the conformation and information he had come here for.
The scent of smoke and whiskey lingered in the air and the main gaming room, which was the first room one entered after winding down the hall from the front door, was dark, except for a table in the far corner where several candles glowed. A man sat at the table, his face not discernible due to the darkness and because his head was bent as he counted money. The soft tap of coins being placed on the wooden table and the man’s low murmuring voice as he counted to himself filled the air. The clap of Trent’s shoes joined the sounds as he moved off the carpet and onto the marble floor.
The man counting the money immediately raised his head, his voice and the click of coin against wood ceasing abruptly. “We’re closed. Come back at ten.”
Trent kept walking but spoke. “I’m not here for leisure or gaming.” As he neared the table he blinked at the sight of Wolverton, unshaven with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and the typical black coat and white cravat he wore gone. “I’m surprised to find you in here, but glad I did.”
Wolverton stood. “What can I do for you, Davenport?”
“Are we alone?” Trent asked, pulling out a chair and motioning Wolverton to sit once more.
The owner eyed him warily but obliged by sitting. Leaning back in his chair, he said, “We are. No one comes in before three. Even us working cits need time off, Davenport.”
Trent let the biting comment go. Wolverton could not know that Trent heartily agreed with him, and he did not have the time to discuss the plight of the working class right now. “Tell me what you have done with Lord Bridgeport.”
“What makes you think I’ve done anything with the man?” Wolverton asked, reaching forward and scooping a shiny pile of coins toward him. The money scraped against the table and then a soft chink filled the momentary silence as Wolverton dropped the coins one by one into a black bag.
“I know you took him. There is no doubt in my mind and I’ll tell you why.” Satisfied he had Wolverton’s attention by the man’s flared nostrils Trent continued. “I spent my morning making inquiries to the more nefarious men I know and they all say the same thing. Bridgeport owed a great many people, but he owed you the most.”
“That proves nothing.”
Trent smiled. “No, of course not. Not alone. My fiancée, Bridgeport’s sister, Lady Audrey, saw your carriage at her home the day her brother disappeared and she heard your voices raised in argument.”
Wolverton shrugged. “I went to collect my money. Simple. That does not mean I collected the man.”
“True.” Trent splayed his hands against the table. “I’ve, of course, heard stories of men disappearing who fail to pay you what they owe you, but again, that would prove nothing.”
“Exactly,” Wolverton agreed with a hard voice. “Are we finished?”
“Not quite. You see, I am a curious man. A thorough one too. And I am driven by the desire to make my future wife happy. This ambition sent me to the docks before I came here.” Trent was pleased to see Wolverton’s fingers flex and then curl tightly around the bag he held. He gazed intently at the man. “I spoke with several dock workers who saw a man fitting Bridgeport’s description unconscious and being dragged onto the ship the South Star, but conveniently there’s no record of Bridgeport on the ship.”
Wolverton smiled. “I’m afraid I cannot help you.”
“You don’t need to yet.” Trent allowed his tone to grow cold and menacing. “I took it upon myself to slip into the ship’s office and check the records of where the ship was bound for. It was headed for the Indies that day, which I must say did not come as a great surprise, considering that is exactly where I would send a man I wanted to get rid of but not kill.”
“Yes, well, I’m not a murderer. You still can prove nothing.”
Trent drummed his fingers on the table. “No, but I don’t have to have definitive proof. I’m normally not a vindictive person, but if you refuse to tell me what you have done with him, I will ruin you. I will make sure every gentlemen of the ton quits frequenting your establishment and we both know I have the power to do it.”
“I like you,” Wolverton said unexpectedly. “You dress like a gentleman but you are not soft, unlike most men in the ton. And I do believe you will carry out your threat. I did not set out to send Bridgeport anywhere. I went to see him to get my money. When he said he could not pay me and he kicked me of his property, I left a man of mine to watch the house. I suspected he would try to flee town and his obligations, and I was proven correct when I followed him to the docks and ascertained him trying to board a ship bound for America.
“I decided then and there to teach him a lesson about repaying his obligations that he would never forget. Bridgeport will be back once he pays the debt he owes me. I am keeping tabs on him and calculating how much money I think he earns each day for the labor he is doing. When I think he has learned his lesson about the dangers of gambling and not paying I’ll return him only mildly scathed.”
“I applaud your strategy, but I would like to see him home by my wedding as a gift to my bride. I’ll pay his debt to you and I vow he will understand the dangers you spoke of when I am done talking to him.”
“You have a bargain, Davenport. I never turn down a chance to obtain more money, and I am not one to intentionally cause a lady pain, even if I suspect your betrothed is better off without her brother.” Wolverton picked up the quill on the table, wrote something down and slid the paper toward Trent. “This is the amount of the debt.”
“Excellent.” Trent glanced at the paper and folded it without a word. The money meant nothing compared to making Audrey happy. “I’ll send the money around this afternoon once you have sent me written notes on where he is and how to go about getting him.”
“I can do that, but I would be happy to have my men return him and spare you the trouble.”
Trent shook his head. “I prefer to have the control.” An old habit left from spying.
“Very good, then. You have not only paid his debt, you have saved me the expense of bringing him home. Next time you are in here, you will have a credit.”
“That is not necessary. I will not be visiting hellfire clubs anymore.” He had no desire to and he knew Audrey would not like it. With a wave, he departed the building and headed across to town to see his future wife. She wanted him to help decide the menu for their wedding breakfast and he wanted nothing m
ore than to spend every second with her.
Two months later
Trent stood among the bustle of the guests at his wedding brunch and grinned. He had been smiling like a fool all morning, but he could not seem to stop himself. Across Whitney’s dining room, Audrey knelt, her hair falling over one side of her face, with Julian on her hip, and gestured animatedly to a group of children surrounding them.
Trent’s heart constricted with joy. Julian and Audrey had taken to each other as if they were meant to be mother and son. He could have stood staring at them all day and counting his blessings, but Dinnisfree entered the room and giving Trent a slight nod strode toward him and clapped him on the shoulder.
The duke leaned close to Trent. “I have Bridgeport in Sutherland’s study, as you instructed.
“Thank you for collecting him at the shipyard. I would have done it myself―”
“And miss your wedding breakfast? I think not. I was happy to do it for you. In fact, I have to admit I was eager to. I much preferred watching Bridgeport’s face drain of all color as he read the letter you wrote to him outlining the conditions of his staying in England to sitting in church and watching you marry. Sorry.”
Trent laughed. “No apologies necessary. Did the marquess readily agree?”
“Surprisingly, he did. I suppose being kidnapped and made to work under slave conditions has made him willing to do anything to have a fresh start.”
“Excellent. My relationship with him will be far more pleasant if I am not constantly having to threaten him to keep out of trouble and become a respectable man worthy of his sister’s love.”
“Marriage has softened you,” Dinnisfree accused.
Trent chuckled. “Audrey softened me. Marriage has made me happy, my friend. You should try it.”
Dinnisfree shook his head. “I’ve nothing to offer a woman but heartache.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you admit a flaw, Dinnisfree.”
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