Though she didn’t understand why she’d done it, he seemed to, for he moved one hand to meet her thrust, sliding his hand down to cup her. With his thumb, he caressed her there, rubbing the linen nightgown between her nether lips.
She wanted more, closer, his touch freed from the barrier of cloth. She reached down, tugging the night rail upward.
‘Impatient darling,’ he murmured with a chuckle. ‘I was getting there.’
But he helped her, pulling the night rail up, under her bottom, over her shoulders, so she lay naked and exposed to him. Vulnerable—but for the first time, she didn’t feel vulnerable, just consumed by a need only he could satisfy.
Though she had no doubt of the strength of his desire, he did nothing for a long moment but inspect her with his heated gaze. ‘How beautiful you are,’ he whispered as he lay her back against the pillows.
For the first time, she rejoiced in possessing a beauty that provoked desire. ‘Hurry!’ she said, not sure what she needed, only certain she must have it, and now.
He kissed her again, taking her mouth this time with an urgency that was no longer sweet or gentle. She kissed him back just as fiercely, arching her body into his exploring hands as he caressed every surface he could reach, hair, neck, shoulders, belly, hips, thighs. Then brought both hands back to her breasts, massaging and tugging the nipples in time to the rasp and pull of his tongue against hers.
The urgency was almost overwhelming now, peaking somewhere in the centre of her, near where his thumb had teased. Thought, intention, scattered like leaves caught up in a gale, leaving only sensation and instinctive motion, as she grabbed for his hand and guided it there.
With a murmured assent, he cupped her again, at the same time releasing her lips and moving his mouth to her breast. She gasped, the heat and wetness of his tongue suckling her nipple so much more intense without the linen barrier. As he pulled and suckled harder, he slipped a hand between her legs, caressing her upper thighs. Instinctively she parted them, offering access to the most intimate part of her, crying out when his exploring fingers touched where she seemed so hot and inexplicably wet.
Sensation built and built as, suckling her nipple, he slid a finger across her throbbing nub, then into her wet passage.
Her breath coming in gasps, she writhed against him, pushing towards some pinnacle she didn’t understand. Until her body released the tension in a spiral of pleasure so intense it rocketed to every corner of her body in wave after wave of blinding delight.
For long moments afterwards she lay limp, spent—and amazed, hardly aware of where she was until she realised Christopher reclined on one elbow above her, watching her, one leg wrapped over her naked body. ‘Breathe,’ he whispered, smiling down at her.
‘That was…I don’t even have words for how wonderful that was.’
‘That was how it should be every time, sweeting.’
‘Every time?’ she repeated wonderingly. ‘And one’s heart manages to keep on beating?’
He laughed. ‘One hopes so. If not…what a way to leave this life!’
She’d floated down from the peak far enough now to be more aware of him—and the fact that he had not been satisfied. ‘But it wasn’t that for you.’
‘Not yet,’ he allowed. ‘It can be. But only if you want that.’
‘More than ever. I want you buried in me so deeply, I cannot tell where you end and I begin.’
He smiled. ‘I’d be very happy to oblige. But how?’
‘How?’ she echoed. ‘I don’t understand.’
Still smiling, he said, ‘There are many ways to delight, sweeting.’
She deliberately didn’t want to compare him, this night, with anything she’d previously experienced—but she was at a loss. ‘I only know…one.’
‘Start by undressing me—if you want to.’
Undressing and tasting and teasing each limb she unveiled, as he had? Thinking that a marvellous idea, she tugged at his shirt until he obligingly lifted his arms and let her pull it over his head.
Ah, what powerful shoulders he had, what a wonderful muscled chest! She couldn’t wait to run the pads of her fingers lightly over that marvellous expanse of masculinity. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as her thumbs descended to rub his flat nipples.
‘Tell me what you like, what you want,’ she said, echoing his query back to him.
‘Anything, everything you do. Just don’t stop touching me.’
Following the pattern he’d set, after exploring with her fingers, she started sampling him with her mouth, delighting in the salty tang of his skin, the spicy scent of his soap. While he held himself rigid, she moved her hands lower still, to the edge of his straining trouser front and below, barely but not quite touching his hard length, driving him to cry out when she sucked one nipple between her lips and bit down.
Sweat sheened his shoulders, his forehead when she looked up at him. ‘You appear overheated. It must be an excess of clothing.’
‘You may rectify that fault any time you please.’
And she did, easing open the buttons of his trouser flap and pulling the garment down, freeing his erection. For a moment, she halted, staring in awe and a little trepidation.
‘Are you sure I can…accommodate that?’
‘It is all for your pleasure.’
A jolt of sensation sparked within her, just thinking about sheathing that magnificent length within her. She’d meant to pull off his trousers and peel off his socks, but his hard length fascinated her.
She simply must touch it. Taste it.
And so she did, slowly, taking his measure first with her fingers, then her tongue, marvelling at the satin texture. But as she began to lick and suck, he stopped her. ‘Just a warning. Continue that, and I will reach my peak without you. As indescribably wonderful as you would make that, I’d rather you accompanied me.’
By now fully aroused again, she wanted that too—both of them joined, finding ecstasy together.
Freeing him, she knelt down to strip off the rest of his garments, then clambered up on the bed. But when she went to lie down, once again he stayed her.
Sliding up to recline against the pillows, he lifted her to straddle him, positioning one leg on either side of his, his erection jutting up between them. Guiding her up on to her knees, he motioned her forward, until the tip of his erection rubbed against the warm, wet centre between her legs.
‘Take me this way,’ he whispered. ‘As much, as little as you like. As quickly or slowly as you like. You won’t be trapped under my weight, so you can move freely—however you wish.’ Then, guiding himself just to the opening of her passage, he pulled her down to kiss him, stroking her tongue with his.
Instinctively understanding, she pushed down, bringing his hardness within her. Instead of the harsh, burning pressure she expected, all was smooth, sensual glide of satin skin against skin.
She couldn’t get enough of the novel sensation—his length stretching and filling her, but gliding freely, as she directed, striking sparks of pleasure with each stroke. Though she tried to experiment with short, slow movements, within moments her hips, of their own accord, thrust harder, taking him deeper, every increased inch of possession driving her further along the path towards the peak she now knew and strove for, until she’d sheathed the whole of him.
And then she couldn’t stop moving, frantic for the explosion of sensation ignited by each advance and retreat. Her hands knotting on his shoulders, she drove into him as he cupped her bottom, pulling her closer. An instant later, she lost herself in another glorious fireball of sensation, his cry echoing her own.
As the last sparks drifted down, she found herself lying on his chest, his heart beating a thunderous rhythm against her cheek. Peace, and a joy purer than anything she’d ever known settled over her. With a little sigh, s
he snuggled her head against his shoulder and drifted to sleep.
* * *
Dawn light woke Ellie. Still drowsy, she opened her eyes to discover with delight that Christopher lay beside her, deeply asleep. After stretching with the languid satisfaction of a well-pleasured body, she spent a moment indulging in the sheer wonder of gazing upon his face, revelling in the warmth of his body beside her. Ah, that she could wake this way every day for the rest of her life!
With that thought, full consciousness returned and with it, the shock of realising just what she’d done.
Perhaps, deep in her bones, she’d known from the moment she agreed to come to his home that she would not leave until she had finally done this.
She’d wanted to experience pleasure, and ah, she had—the sensations this caring and tender lover drew from her more intense and overwhelming than she could have dreamed possible. But worse than that, the physical closeness merged into and magnified the spiritual bond that drew her to him, to the point where it seemed unthinkable to leave him. She belonged here with him, sharing his days, his bed, his thoughts, his goals, his desires.
There would be only one way she could do that. Would becoming his chère amie really be such a bad thing? With no reputation to lose, she’d be no worse off when they finally parted than she was right now. And while they were together, she would have all this—intense pleasure and soul-deep joy.
Then she recoiled, sliding away from him, aghast at where her thoughts had taken her. Could her resolve to never become another man’s mistress really have been shaken this completely?
She’d been right to be wary of giving in to passion. She knew now just how dangerous and irresistible it could be, for now that she’d tasted it in full, she was ravenous for more.
She’d already broken her word to offer him only assistance to reach his goals, not temptation. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that after their tempestuous, glorious coupling, Christopher’s resolve to move forward and find the wife he needed would be compromised, too.
When he woke, he would be no more eager to see her leave than she was to go. He would ruin his future by offering her carte blanche.
Did she really believe, now that she’d experienced the all-consuming joy of intimacy with him, she’d be able to resist accepting his offer if he exerted even the smallest amount of persuasion? One sweet kiss? Another mind-searing round of lovemaking?
If she stayed here until he woke, they would both be lost, their noble ideals tarnished and their plans for the future in ashes.
She must go, now. And not see him again.
Fighting the resistance of both body and spirit, she eased herself from the bed, careful not to wake him. Angrily swiping away the tears of the regret, anguish and pain that had already started gnawing at her, she gathered her clothing and slipped into the hallway, haphazardly doing up her gown.
Surprising the cook and the maid at work on breakfast, she enlisted their help to finish dressing and sent a footman to find her a hackney, forbidding any of the staff to rouse the master who, she said, had remained on guard all through the night, and needed his rest now.
A short while later, the footman returned to announce her hackney waited outside. Wrapping herself in her cloak, forcing down the sorrow and anguish, she whispered an almost silent, ‘Goodbye, my love…’ as she passed the stairs and walked out.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Slowly ascending from the depths of sleep, a supremely satisfied Christopher stirred, then opened one eye. Startled to see the room bright with a sunlight that showed the day far more advanced than he’d expected, he jerked to alertness. His smile as he recalled the delights of the previous night dimmed only as he noted the bed beside him was empty, the space warmed by a wicked, willing Ellie now cold.
A quick glance around the chamber confirmed that her clothing was missing. Given the lateness of hour, he wasn’t surprised she’d gone, but he did wish she’d awakened him to say goodbye.
Though if she had…he would doubtless have persuaded her to linger, he thought, his grin returning.
He regretted being such a slug-a-bed, but wasn’t surprised he’d slept so late. He couldn’t have had more than an hour’s rest before Ellie woke him. And given the satisfaction and deep content of their lovemaking, he wasn’t surprised he’d slept so soundly.
He really had intended to remain chastely in the study, seeing her this morning only to speedily convey her back to Maggie’s. But when she appeared before him, looking like desire incarnate, and held out her hand…could any man breathing have resisted her? Refused her, after she assured him not once but twice that having him make love to her was all that she desired, when it had been all he’d desired for years?
He’d known that loving her would be glorious, and reality had more than confirmed his instincts. But, though it had been some time since he broke with his last mistress, what he felt now was more than just the hum of well-satisfied body. He was…happy, replete with a delight and contentment that penetrated to the very core of his being, as if warm honey had dripped into his bones. The warmth and sweetness and delight that was Ellie.
Joy and an excitement beyond anything he could remember bubbled up, and he laughed out loud.
He couldn’t wait to see her, to make love to her again. After what they’d shared last night, surely she would realise, as he did now, that they belonged together. On some instinctive level, he’d known it for a long time, which was why he’d pushed to continue his lessons and dragged his heels about moving on to court a proper lady. How could he honourably offer himself to another woman, when his heart and his senses were filled with Ellie?
But how to make being together happen?
He frowned, his euphoria dimming a little. It still smacked too much of insult to offer carte blanche to a woman whom he knew should—but now never would—be a respectable member of the ton. Would it be possible to add a discreet intimacy to their friendship, become lovers without making any public acknowledgement of their association and keep it hidden from the world?
But such a relationship would almost certainly, eventually, be discovered. And living discreetly separate would not allow the day-to-day intimacy he craved. He wanted more than Ellie in his bed, he wanted her sitting at his table and in his library, riding in the park, visiting in the countryside—everywhere, all the time.
He sighed. Nothing very discreet about that.
And no matter how he looked at it, the stark fact remained that abandoning his goal of respectable matrimony would hinder his political career.
Very well, but the impediment was surmountable, surely. Although nothing short of legitimate marriage would allow him to complete his circle of friends by taking a wife he could be seen with anywhere, he was reasonably sure the Hellions would receive them, if only in private.
A niggle of doubt shook him. He knew his friends and their wives liked Ellie, had accepted her and dined with her—as a former courtesan. Would they continue to welcome her if he involved her in another illegitimate relationship?
The sort of relationship she’d vowed never to enter again? Could he retain any sense of honour if he urged her back into a role that had filled her with shame and regret? The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.
He couldn’t marry her. But how could he give her up?
The sense of delight with which he’d awakened now dissipated by realising how difficult a dilemma he faced, Christopher jumped out of bed and hurriedly dressed. He’d call on Ellie, talk over the situation with her. Surely they could come up with a solution that would allow them to be together without causing her more pain.
While he stood before the mirror, knotting his cravat, a knock sounded at the door, followed by the entrance of his valet, Marsden. ‘Sorry, sir!’ the man said, checking as he saw his master almost fully dressed. ‘I would have come up at once to as
sist you, had I known you were awake.’
‘Why did you let me sleep so late?’
‘Miss Parmenter instructed us not to rouse you, since you had kept watch most of the night.’
‘When did she leave?’
‘Just after daybreak. Rollins got her a hackney.’
‘Did anyone accompany her?’
‘No, sir, she said that since no one knew she’d been staying here, she would be safe enough travelling alone.’
Frowning as he recalled that she’d been attacked in broad daylight, Christopher hoped so. Would she have gone home? Or to the school? They really needed to finalise the matter of additional watchmen to protect her.
‘I brought up the post, sir. Would you like breakfast now?’
‘Just coffee. I shall be going out almost immediately.’
Accepting the stack, Christopher thumbed through them, setting aside one that was obviously an invitation. The last one had only his name inscribed, in a flowing feminine hand. Ellie’s.
He broke the seal and eagerly scanned the lines.
Dear Christopher,
I think we can both agree that my work is done, and you are now equipped to begin your search for a suitable wife. I wish you all the best in finding the right lady to brighten your days and offer you the assistance you need to reach the highest levels of your career.
Thinking it best to end for good any temptation to delay that task, I will bid you goodbye and good luck.
Your friend, Ellie
PS So you might commence without delay, I’ve sent along an invitation to a reception this afternoon at the home of my Aunt Marion, which will be attended by my sister Sophie and other eligible maidens.
Marsden brought the coffee and set the tray on the table beside him, but Christopher scarcely noticed. He read Ellie’s note over several more times before finally, incredulous, disbelieving, he had to acknowledge that she had just walked out of his life.
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