In anticipation of any noise she might make, he covered her lips with his when he thrust forward. A slight squeak and a brief tightening of her muscles was her only reaction. Being inside her, feeling her warmth and moistness, knowing no other man had ever experienced this with her, was truly a heady feeling.
He watched her carefully as he moved slightly. “Are you well?”
“Yes.” One small tear trickled down her cheek. He removed it with his thumb and rested his forehead on hers. “I will give you a moment to allow your body to adjust.”
“There is more?”
He chuckled, the second time he’d experienced humor in bed with Elise. He was feeling all sorts of emotions that he’d never experienced before. Exhilarating in some ways and terrifying in others. But he’d always known sex with Lady Elise Smith would be unlike any other coupling he’d experienced.
When she looked confused at his laughter, he added, “Oh, yes, darling, there is more. If things work correctly, what you just experienced will be repeated again.”
“Oh. I don’t know that I could handle another explosion such as that one again.” She truly did look alarmed.
“Hold on, sweetheart. You go right ahead and enjoy yourself. I am here to catch you when you fly.”
***
I am here to catch you when you fly.
That was precisely how she’d felt when that wonderful, marvelous feeling swept over her, like she was soaring through the clouds, way above earth, looking down on the mere mortals who were not there with her. Had she ever known how exciting a man and a woman joining together was, she would not have waited this long to experience it.
Except she’d never met another man with whom she wanted to share such an intimacy.
Until she’d met Simon.
She was not sure what that meant, but did not plan to dwell on it while he was moving inside her and the feelings from before were building once again. “Oh, that feels wonderful, too. Does it feel good for you, too?”
“Yes. It certainly does.”
“How does it feel for you?”
“Good lord, woman, you want to hold an intellectual discussion now? If so, I’m afraid I must decline since I am hardly dressed for the part.”
They both laughed, and Simon looked strangely at her, as if pleasantly surprised. Taking the opportunity, she pulled his head down and kissed him; this time she nudged his lips and he opened. She used her tongue to taste the inside of his mouth, sweeping in, taking all he offered. Brandy, something sweet, something minty. And most of all, Simon.
The fullness inside her felt strange at first, then as he began a steady rhythm the feelings from before began to build again. She released his lips on a sigh. He tucked his head against her neck and murmured in her ear as he continued to move. “I’ve wanted you for so long. You can’t possibly know how good it feels to be inside you, to feel your heated softness surrounding me.”
As his actions continued, her excitement rose once again and she felt the build-up in her lower parts that would lead to another explosion. Or as Simon had said, send her flying. She clung to his shoulders, straining, her muscles tense, all of her focused on where they were joined. She moved her hips and he groaned, “Yes, do that.”
He cupped her head and smothered her lips with demanding mastery. Simon shifted slightly and reached between them. She sucked in a breath when his finger rubbed against a part of her that immediately brought her the waves of pleasure she’d had before. Simon gave one final thrust and groaned her name. She felt the rush of his seed as it entered her.
It was then that she realized there could very well be consequences from their actions. She pushed the idea aside since she knew from all her reading that it would be quite rare for conception to take place from one act. And, after what she’d experienced, she had no intention for this to be their only time.
She played with his hair as their breathing returned to normal. “Simon?”
“Um,” he panted out his answer, then rolled off her, pulling her next to his body.
“Aren’t there methods a man can use to avoid conception?”
He rose up on his elbow and stared at her. “I believe it is a little too late to ask that. I’m afraid the deed has been done. And now I realize how foolish I have been to not consider that beforehand.”
She waved her hand. “I know. But conception is not likely the very first time.” At his surprised expression, she said. “I am well-read, you know. I was wondering for the future.”
“The future?”
“Yes.” She sat up, and much to Simon’s amusement, given his expression, she wiggled her bottom until she rested against the headboard. Seeing his hungry look at her breasts, she pulled the sheet up to her neck. “I told you I wanted us to be lovers. I’m assuming since you’re here, that you agree?”
He joined her at the headboard and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “Elise. Gently reared unmarried women do not take lovers.”
She shifted so she could look at him. “And?”
“And you are a gently reared unmarried woman.”
With raised eyebrows, she said, “Was I a gently reared unmarried woman when you entered my bedroom tonight?” Why was he being so peculiar? He looked almost guilty. Or something strange.
“Yes, of course you were.”
“And did you leave when you remembered I was a gently reared unmarried woman?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I told you when I arrived that I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
She tapped her chin with her index finger. “Again. Did that cause you to leave?”
“Of course not.” He waved his hand at their bodies. “I believe that is obvious.”
Elise raised her chin and regarded him. “Are you telling me this is a one-time event?”
“Uh, no.” He ran his fingers through his hair and dropped his head back to stare at the bed canopy. He turned to her and at her all-knowing smirk, he added, “I mean . . .”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated for almost a full minute, then said, “I think we should get married.”
Chapter Seven
Elise turned to him, her mouth agape. “Married!” He was afraid after all their activities not drawing any attention, her outburst would be the one that would have her family—particularly her father—pounding on the door. Of course what her father would demand was precisely what he’d just suggested.
“Yes. You know, that ceremony performed in front of witnesses where one pledges his troth to another?” Somehow it didn’t appear that Elise found his flippant remarks humorous. “Why not?”
“Not only do I not believe you just said I think we should get married, but I’m finding it hard to understand why you think I should agree with you.”
“I think we would rub along quite well.” In fact, even though he’d blurted it out, the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed to be. He would undoubtedly enjoy climbing into bed every night with Elise. She certainly showed a great deal of enthusiasm and adventure. And even though he had his brother and nephew to inherit, maybe he could have a son of his own.
The thought was warming. He could have a son whom he would never abandon, either from running away or by killing himself.
“How very ton of you,” she sniffed.
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Rubbing along together is no reason for us to get married.”
“Well, maybe the fact that we we’re sitting in your bed naked as the day we were born might be.”
“I thought we agreed we would be lovers. Have an affair?”
“I never agreed to that.”
“Well, you’re sitting here, aren’t you?
“This isn’t an affair.”
“What is it?”
Simon took a deep breath. This was getting them nowhere. He had to make Elise understand that they could not have an affair and she maintain her reputation. No matter how hard one tried, those thing
s were always discovered and word would spread like a wild fire.
He took her hand, which she reluctantly allowed. “It is my duty and responsibility to marry you after what happened.” What the devil was wrong now? She stiffened like a board and the look she cast him would scare the devil himself. “What?”
“I do not want to be anyone’s responsibility or duty. I want to be a free woman, who makes my own decisions and suffers whatever consequences, myself.”
Losing his patience with the way the conversation was going, he jumped from the bed and tugged on his breeches. When he noticed the look on her face as she regarded him, he almost pulled them off and climbed back into bed with her. That would never do. They had to get this settled.
“Even if we managed to avoid discovery—which, given the gossips in the ton seems impossible to me—there is always the chance of creating a child—“
He held up his hand as Elise opened her mouth to speak. “The methods available are not foolproof. There is more than one child in the ton carrying the name of a man other than his true father.”
Elise shook her head. “We appear to be at a standstill. I never intended to marry and, as you know, we began this relationship so you would keep me from having to deal with men who might be interested in marriage.”
“I agree that it appears we are at a standstill, my dear. I will not continue in an affair. You have no idea what you are asking. I would be labeled a cad and a dishonorable man, and you would be branded every sort of horrible name that would disgrace you and your family.” He dropped his shirt over his head and tucked it into his breeches. “If you do not care for your own reputation, think of your sisters.”
Elise rose to her knees, still clutching the sheet to her neck. Her hair tumbled around her in tangles, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips swollen. The entire back area of her body was visible and he had to tamp down the groan about to escape.
“How dare you bring my sisters into this? I adore my sisters and would do anything for them.”
Simon shrugged into his jacket. “Except marry.”
She slumped. That took the wind out of her sails. “That was unkind.”
He placed his hands on his hips. “But true.”
“So you won’t change your mind?” She raised her chin.
“Will you change yours?” Since he had taken to the idea of marriage, he had this obsession to have her agree. He had decided to never marry, but now he was just as adamant that he would marry. And it would be to no one else except Lady Elise Smith.
She skirted his question. “Be careful leaving. Papa sometimes goes to the kitchen for warm milk.”
He walked to her and kissed her on the forehead. “Good night.”
Luckily, everything was quiet as he made his way down the corridor to the back staircase. He let himself out of the house through the—thankfully empty—kitchen. He headed to the mews and retrieved Diamond, vaulting onto his back and turning the reins to walk the animal out of the stable and to the street.
He stopped in front of the Pomeroy townhouse and stared up at Elise’s window. All was dark. She’d blown out the candles. Turning his horse toward the end of the street he continued on to his house, thinking of the significant decision he’d made.
Elise did not want a husband because she worried about losing her independence. He would give her as much of a free hand as he could. She was being foolish. Did she think her father had forgotten about Blackwell? If she refused Simon, Blackwell was her future.
He shook his head. An affair. That was as likely to remain a secret as a race through Mayfair at four o’clock in the afternoon. Admittedly he could have done a better job of proposing marriage, but being the sensible women she was, he assumed she would see the wisdom of his idea without the romantic nonsense.
He thought back to their lovemaking. Yes, he’d wanted her, almost from the time they met, but now having had her, he wanted her more than ever. He would have her, too. But on his terms, not hers. This was a war, and he would be the victor. And to the victor belonged the spoils. In this case, a fiery, stubborn, intelligent, and adventurous woman.
Be aware, Lady Elise. The battle has just begun.
***
Elise stared at the closed door Simon just left through.
Married!
Whatever made him say that? Of course she was no dimwit and knew once a gently reared unmarried woman lost her virtue, marriage was the typical ton response. But there were generally two reasons for that. One, they were caught, and two, one’s future husband would wonder about her missing hymen.
They had not been caught and, since she had no intention of ever marrying, there was no husband in her future who would be searching for the missing body part on their wedding night. She slapped the covers. Oh, the man was impossible! He had taken something truly wonderful and decided to withhold it from her until she complied with his wishes. That was precisely why she’d eschewed marriage. Everything always had to be the man’s way. They held all the power. Or, in this case, the necessary equipment. Despite her annoyance, that brought a giggle.
She jumped from the bed and slipped into her nightgown. It was then she noticed the slight bit of blood on her sheet. That would never do. She quickly drew on her dressing gown and hurried downstairs to the linen closet and retrieved a fresh sheet. Once the bed linen was changed—certainly not like the maid would have done it—she glanced around her room, holding the soiled sheet, wondering what to do with it. Maybe she should hang it out the window like the Scottish lairds had in the past. She snorted at that idea, thinking that would be a sure way to bring notice to her fall from virtue.
She shoved it under the bed for now and crawled under the covers, lying on her back. What would marriage to Simon be like? She gave herself time to consider it. He was handsome, titled, rich, and knew what to do in bed. They were certainly excellent recommendations. He was also smart, considerate, and had a sense of humor that matched her own. She could certainly do worse.
She flopped over onto her stomach. One time, when she was a young girl and assumed, like everyone else, she would one day marry her Prince Charming, she’d decided she would only marry for love. Then, somewhere along the line she’d become disenchanted with the gentlemen of the ton, found them silly and groping. At the same time she discovered she was very happy with her little circle of scholarly friends. And her independence.
It had been then that she’d determined to remain single and enjoy her freedom. No husband to answer to, or ask permission from, or bow to his wishes.
No love. No children.
But why was she battering herself? Simon’s attempt at a proposal—as pathetic and overbearing as it had been—never mentioned love, or caring, or affection, or anything along those lines. All he spoke of was duty and responsibility. Could she love him?
Scary thought, that. She had to admit there was a great deal about him to encourage love. His sense of humor, his caring, the way he had held his own with her friends at her gathering, and, most of all, how he looked at her that had her heart pounding and her insides melting.
After their lovemaking, she would be fooling herself to not acknowledge her feelings toward him had changed. Most likely intimacy with a man did that. They had been naked together, with nothing between them, nowhere to hide. More than their bodies had been uncovered, their raw emotions had been exposed to each other, brought into the light. Never had she opened herself up like that before. Not even with her sisters. It truly had been a life-altering experience. With a deep sigh at all these heavy thoughts, she closed her eyes and ordered herself to sleep.
Her body did not obey the order for hours.
The next morning, she entered the breakfast room to join her sisters and Papa. “Good morning, everyone.”
Papa lowered his newspaper and gave her a brilliant smile. “Good morning, daughter.”
Juliet and Marigold wished her good day, and Elise made her way to the sideboard to fill her breakfast plate with egg, bacon, creamed
trout, and bread warm from the oven. Apparently bed activities had given her an appetite.
She’d been a bit sore when she awoke that morning, which should not have been a surprise. But once the memories of the night before had washed over her, she again grew irritated at Simon for refusing to have an affair and demanding marriage instead.
“Elise, once you finish your breakfast, I would speak with you in my study.”
“Yes, Papa.” Good lord, had he seen Simon leaving the night before? No. He would not look so placid had he witnessed her lover creeping down the stairs and out the back door.
Her lover.
She blushed, loving that phrase.
“Are you well, Elise?” Juliet eyed her with concern.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You seemed a bit stiff when you walked into the room and just now your face flushed quite red.”
Elise waved her off. “I am fine. It is a tad warm in here.” As if to reinforce her subterfuge she waved her napkin in her face. Both Juliet and Marigold viewed her with suspicion. Papa ignored her. Blast her sisters who never missed anything.
Papa rose and bowed to them. “Have a pleasant day, my loves. I await your presence, Elise.”
“Yes, Papa.”
Once she finished her breakfast, Elise joined her father in his study. He was bent over a stack of correspondence, looking every inch the nobleman. Even in the confines of his home, he wore a starched cravat, waistcoat, and jacket over his buff breeches.
Remembering last night, the thought popped into her head that Papa probably had the same desires as other men. Was he having an affair?
Lord, she pushed that image out of her head in a hurry.
“Papa, you wanted to speak with me?”
He sat back, admiring her. “Yes, my dear. How lovely you look today.”
For the Love of the Viscount (The Noble Hearts Series Book 1) Page 7