by Diana Quincy
Hart’s head screamed with a cross between joy and relief. “Are you certain?”
“It is the only thing I am sure of.” She pulled off his shirt. He lifted his arms to help her. Willa ran her fingers over the fuzz of hair on his chest. “I want you, Hart. Please take me to your bed.”
The pleasure of her hands on him was almost unbearable. To his own amazement, Hart shook his head as he watched her touch him. “I cannot.”
Her hands stilled. She looked up at him with pained eyes. “You no longer want me.”
“I need to know what this is, Willa. Are you coming to me as part of the arrangement? To produce an heir?”
She shook her head. “I’m coming to you fully, as your wife. You gave me the freedom to choose and I choose you. ”
“But I thought you wanted to control you own destiny.”
“Quite right. And I’m taking control by saying I want to be married to you by choice. Not because I was compromised into it. I know now that I love you and never want to be parted from you.” Her hand began moving over him again, taking in the grooves of his chest and stomach. “I do not want to be released from our agreement. Nor will I release you. There will be no ladybirds for you, husband.”
Hart’s pulse began to pound in his head. Craving slammed through every inch of him.
“What I am saying is that I expect to satisfy you in every way,” she said, repeating his words from that day at the pond. “So that you will never need to look elsewhere to sate your carnal urges.” Her fingers moved to unfasten his breeches.
His arousal sprang free, hard and twitching. She stroked his length. He almost bucked out of his chair at her touch. Rising to his feet, he pulled her up with him. She was flushed, warm and alive in his arms. And she wanted him. Keeping her gaze locked on his, Willa stepped back and shyly removed her nightgown.
Hart’s pulse howled at the gleaming perfection before him. The firelight danced over Willa’s porcelain skin and soft full curves. Her cheeks shone pink and the tips of her breasts were pert with expectation. The sight of her made Hart’s body unbearably hard. He reached out, his finger toying with the tips of her breasts.
She inhaled, passion infusing her face. “I expect you to satisfy me in every way.” She took his hand, pulling Hart toward the bed. “I need you to sate my carnal urges.”
His body roared in response. Tugging his breeches down, he stumbled toward the bed. “I can see you plan to be a very demanding wife.” Grinning, he pulled her down onto the bed with him. They collapsed half-laughing with giddiness and hunger, their mouths reaching for each other.
But Hart was not about to be rushed. He indulged himself, going slowly, tasting and loving every part of her. He treated her body with reverence, touching and massaging her, kissing and licking. Hart was lost to his own abandon in a field of endless pleasure. When he finally brought his lips back to hers, Willa’s mouth received him eagerly. His tongue was seeking, demanding, tasting the woman he had hungered for. They took each other wildly, need and craving scorching them in a delicious agony. When he could wait no longer, Hart positioned himself between her legs.
“Are you ready for me, Willa?” he whispered.
She smiled her acquiescence, but Hart saw the wrinkle of concern form between her eyebrows. He kissed it away. “I will be gentle, darling. I promise. I will never willingly hurt you again.”
Her eyes glistened as she nodded and urged him toward her. He nudged at her entrance and then slid into her in one smooth movement. She jerked with pleasure and moaned his name as he filled her.
He began to move within her, savoring her tightness, the satiny warmth, the unadulterated pleasure of finally being joined with her in the most elemental way. He moved over her, his strokes becoming deeper and more insistent. Determined that she would enjoy coupling this time, he reached down and touched her feminine flesh as he moved inside her, coaxing Willa into oblivion with him.
She stilled, then convulsed and trembled with a breathy sigh. Male satisfaction roared through him and he finally let himself go, allowing his body the explosive release it craved. Shaking violently, he cried out and buried his head in the crook of her soft neck. The final tremors of his release shook through him as he spilled his seed into her.
Afterwards, they lay still, clasping each other but not moving, save the rapid rise and fall of their chests. Still intimately connected, Hart closed his eyes and savored the aftertaste of their lovemaking, marveling at how his body hummed with sensation. How it already wanted more.
The feel of her body quivering beneath his pierced his revelry. Alarm arrowed through his heart. Was she weeping? He pulled back to look into her face, expecting to see tears, but instead discovered a face full of mirth.
“Tell me you aren’t laughing,” he said incredulously, still struggling to catch his breath. Her eyes glistened and her smile widened, her body shaking with merriment. It had been so long since he’d seen her truly amused, but this seemed like a deuced inappropriate time for laughter. Especially when he thought he’d performed admirably. “Laughter at a time such as this could seriously wound my manly pride.”
“Oh no, never that.” Her mouth quaked with amusement. “I was just thinking about how much time I’ve wasted brooding when we could have been doing this.”
Satisfaction and relief loosened his tense limbs. “Ah, so you did not find my lovemaking technique to be lacking.”
“Quite the contrary.” She planted a hard kiss on his lips. “I may never let you leave my chamber.”
Blood raced to his prick. “How convenient it is that I have no pressing engagements for the next few days.”
“Then I suppose it is not too early to begin making up for wasted time.” She wiggled her plush warm form suggestively beneath him. His languid blood began to rush faster. He toyed with the tip of one of her breasts, watching himself rub a gentle finger over it, his light strokes flattering it to reawaken.
Willa watched, her own fingers tightening as she raked them through his loose, long strands. “I love your hair this way, wild and free. You look so fierce.”
“Do you plan to tame me?” His fingers left her breast and reached down between their joined bodies to the soft, wet place between her legs. Her breathing deepened and he sensed the primal urge begin to overtake her again.
“Goodness, I hope not,” she said, bucking against his slickening fingers.
Hardening inside of her, he began to move in slow gentle movements, relishing her feminine place with his hands and prick, loving her mouth with his. Need and urgency overtook him and he thrust harder, faster, and deeper. Until he reached oblivion again with a shout of exhilaration and knew he’d found perfection in an imperfect world.
…
“Hart, what should we do about my private bank account now?” Willa popped a piece of cold chicken meat into her mouth. They were lounging on the bed they hadn’t left for two days. Oblivious to time and structure, they’d made love countless times, sleeping only when overcome with delightful physical exhaustion.
He couldn’t even be certain what day it was. Hart left the room only once, to tell his valet to cancel all appointments and invitations and to inform all callers that he and Willa were not at home to receive visitors.
He’d never slept so soundly. Last evening’s erotic dream had seemed particularly vivid. Then he’d opened his eyes to the vision of Willa on top of him, riding him to awakening. She’d looked like a goddess, her tousled curls giving her the look of a well-bedded woman. Her full breasts swayed as she rode him, their pink nubs pert and reaching. He joined her in all eagerness, helping guide her hips until they both hurtled toward a frenzied rapture.
“So,” Willa repeated, breaking through his memory of last night’s wild ride, “what do you think?” She sat cross-legged, wearing one of his white shirts and nothing else. Hart lounged on his side across the tray of food from her. His chest was bare. Although he had pulled his breeches on, they remained unfastened.
Ha
rt put a grape in his mouth. “I think you should take that shirt off. I want to see you.”
Willa smiled, taking another bite of meat. “In all seriousness, there is no need for the bank account anymore. I trust you. I don’t desire anything in my name alone.”
He ran admiring eyes over his wife. Her eyes sparkled with life and her cheeks flushed beautifully against the porcelain perfection of her skin. “I can’t have a serious discussion with you until you take off that shirt.”
Her eyebrows rose in amusement. “I’m still hungry.” Licking her lips, she took another bite.
Hart’s body stirred at the sight of Willa’s pink tongue slipping along her full swollen mouth. “Then by all means, continue to eat.” His blood simmered. “But I must insist you do it without a shirt. I want my shirt back. Post haste.”
She reached for a small cake and he looked down her shirt when she did, the deep v-neck giving him an excellent view of the way her abundant, creamy breasts swayed when she moved. He reached out to cup her, but she swatted him away, snatching a cake and settling back out of his grasp.
“No, don’t touch me until we have this discussion,” she said firmly.
“What discussion was that?” he asked, mesmerized by the way her breasts jiggled beneath his shirt.
“My separate bank account.” Her words barely registered through the fog of his mounting frustration. He reached for her again. But she was ready and deftly dodged him. “Come on, Hart, focus.”
He tried to concentrate. “No, I think you should keep the funds in your own name. Although I will provide generously for you in the event of my death, I want you to have the dowry as well. You shall also have a generous allowance for your everyday expenses.”
Willa popped a grape into her mouth. Hart watched her pink tongue slide out to lick its juice from her lips. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said, considering his words. “May I do as I wish with my dowry?”
“Yes, do what you please with it.” He ran his hand over the smooth silk of her bare thigh. “If you won’t let me touch you, then I insist that you touch yourself. It’s only fair.”
“What?” He’d finally distracted her attention away from her bank account. “Why would I do that?” she asked, a slight frown of confusion on her face.
“Because it excites me.”
Willa blushed hotly, her eyes widening. “Truly?”
He smiled. “I’m relieved to see you thinking about something other than food and money. I was beginning to worry.”
“How would I touch myself?” she asked with an almost clinical curiosity.
“The way I would touch you,” he said, his gaze moving hungrily over her body.
She misinterpreted the look in his eyes. “Aren’t you hungry? You’ve barely eaten.”
“Quite right,” he said, finally losing all restraint. He pulled her shirt off and flipped her over on her back in one fluid movement. Hart grabbed the sweet cream from the tray before completely overturning it as he moved atop her.
“What are you doing?” He answered by spreading the cream all over her, rubbing it over her breasts and the softly rounded slope of her belly and to other scandalous hard-to-reach places.
“Suddenly, I’m starved,” he said, licking his way down her belly. Hart took his time, partaking fully in the sumptuous banquet of her body while she moaned and writhed beneath him.
And he did not stop until his hunger was completely satisfied.
…
“What the devil is taking so bloody long?” Hart demanded of the short, sturdy man in spectacles sitting across the desk in his study.
“It seems, Your Grace, that someone of standing, other than yourself, of course, is purchasing the Earl of Bellingham’s debts,” said his solicitor, James Ogden.
A few weeks prior, Hart had hatched a plan to acquire all of Bellingham’s vowels. The purpose was simple: buy up all of the debt and ruin the whoreson for what he’d done to Willa. He’d easily acquired sixty percent of Bellingham’s IOUs before running into this barrier.
“Who is it?” he barked. “Who is getting in my way?”
“The buyer apparently wishes to remain anonymous.”
“How much has he acquired?”
“About forty percent of the earl’s gaming debt.”
“So Bellingham has other enemies who want to own him. I wonder for what purpose.” Hart sat back in his chair with his interlaced hands on his chest. “Whatever his reasons, I want those vowels. Find this person and buy him out.”
Ogden cleared his throat. “I have been in touch with his representative. He is willing to sell.”
“Excellent.”
“At triple their value.”
“Triple? That’s highway robbery!” He rose and went to look out the window to calm himself down. As a businessman, he was used to having the upper hand. That included having the luxury to walk away from a bad deal. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the seller seemed to know how badly he wanted the vowels.
Ogden did not react to Hart’s angry outburst. He remained impassive, rising from his chair across from the massive desk in Hart’s study. “Your Grace, I’m afraid the seller has another demand.”
Hart turned from the window to look at Ogden. “Dare he suggest he requires more than triple the value of the vowels?”
“He insists you meet him in person to transact the deal.”
“Whatever for?”
“I’m not certain, Your Grace. He asks that you meet this afternoon at Green’s, the new hotel on Albemarle Street. Suite 102.”
A few hours later, Hart made his way to the first fine hotel to open in Mayfair. Composed of several townhouses, Green’s offered luxury suites to its most exclusive clientele. Stepping into one of them, he closed the door behind him and surveyed the well-appointed parlor, anxious to meet the bastard who was trying to fleece him.
“At last we meet,” said a warm, feminine voice.
Chapter Fifteen
Hart knew that voice. He heard it in his dreams—the robust sound of warm, dark chocolate. He turned to find Willa standing in the doorway that led to the bed chamber, a knowing smile on her face.
“What the devil?” said Hart. “What are you doing here?”
“You’ve come to meet the person who holds forty percent of Augustus’ vowels.”
“Yes, but—” He halted, raising his brows in disbelief. “You? But how?”
Willa settled on the parlor’s burgundy velvet sofa. “You told me to use my dowry as I saw fit.”
“You are the person who’s been buying up Bellingham’s vowels?” he asked incredulously.
She smiled at the surprise she saw in his face. “I hired someone Cam recommended to acquire them for me, using the funds from my dowry.”
Hart dropped down by her side, grudging admiration gradually replacing his exasperation. “So you bid up the price. You’ve cost me a fortune.”
“In my defense, I was not aware that you were the other buyer until you agreed to pay my astronomical asking price. No one else would go to those lengths.” She looked at him with dancing eyes. “Really, Hart, I thought you prided yourself in being an unparalleled businessman.”
Hart let out a gruff laugh. “You minx. That is why I sensed the seller knew how much I wanted those bloody vowels.”
Willa slipped her hand into his. “No one would know better than I.”
“Well, a deal is a deal. You shall have your coin and I will own all of Bellingham’s vowels.”
Willa gave him a wary look. “What are you going to do with them?”
Hart grinned, the humor in the situation not lost on him. “In truth, I was going to gift them to you once I had acquired all of them. But at this moment, I’m considering changing my mind.”
“Oh, Hart.” Her eyes shined. “What a lovely thing to do. You planned to give them to me to do whatever I chose?”
“Very lovely for you. You’ve managed to both triple your money and acquire the vowels.” He stood
up, pulling her along with him toward the bedchamber.
“What now?” Willa asked, willingly following him.
“Now,” he said. “I am going to allow you to show me just how much you appreciate my very generous gift.”
…
She showed him in every way she could imagine. Two hours later, their exhausted glistening bodies were intertwined in the massive bed. Willa’s head lay on Hart’s chest while she toyed with the smattering of tight dark curls there.
Hart gave a lazy smile. “I must say, you certainly have an excellent way of showing your appreciation.” He yawned, looking very pleased with himself. “I must arrange gifts for you much more often.”
Laughing, she placed a light kiss on his chest. “What shall I do with the vowels?”
“Why were you purchasing them? Surely you had a plan. Something to give Gus his comeuppance?”
“I did have revenge in mind when I began purchasing the debt.” She sighed, her soft curves snuggling into his warm body. “But now…honestly, I was thinking about selling all of the vowels even before I realized you were the anonymous buyer.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Once I realized the enormity of Augustus’ debt, I comprehended that I didn’t have the means to buy all of it.” She adjusted her body slightly so she could look at Hart. As she did so, she savored the supple warmth of bare skin upon bare skin. “I want you to buy me out.”
“I’ve already given you all of the vowels.”
“Yes, and now I’d like you to buy them back. I have better uses for the funds.”
He guffawed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Indeed? So let me be clear about this. I’ve already gifted you the debt, which you made me pay triple the value for. Now you want me to buy back the gift I’ve just paid a fortune for?”
She smiled, her mind already working furiously on her new plan. “Exactly.”
“Why do I have the feeling you plan to drive a hard bargain?”
“I will, of course, demand top coin for it.”
“To what end?” He ran his fingers over the smooth white curve of her shoulder. “Will you drive me to ruin just for sport?”