Placing her almost reverently on the bed, he stepped back and began to quickly strip out of his clothes, barely bothering to undo the buttons. "I am sorry, my love. I cannot wait. I should, I know, but there is something inside of me that is pushing me onward. If you are put off by this kind of raw and unchecked passion, tell me now because I fear if I go any farther, I will not be able to stop."
Stopping was the last thing Amy wanted. That fire and driving hunger? She felt it as well, burning inside of her until she thought it might drive her mad. It had been there since her father had fired the single shot that had ended Mark Overton's miserable, worthless life.
As she had watched the man's life drain away, she felt a clawing need to prove that she was still alive. That he hadn't taken her life with him when he died. It was silly, she knew, but at the same time, she wanted to reaffirm that she was still breathing, that she had a future ahead of her. She wanted Gibson. She wanted his passion.
"This thing you feel? This unquenchable desire for me?" Amy questioned, rising up onto her knees and opening her arms to him once he was blissfully and perfectly naked. "I feel it to. It begs me to prove that I am alive. Make me feel, Gibbs. Please. I need you inside of me, loving me as only you can."
He needed no further urging, and with a growl, he moved to divest her of that infernal gown. "Take it off," she practically begged as she raised her arms to help him accomplish his task. "I want to feel you. All of you." This was the strong, sure woman that had captured Gibson's heart that very first day they had met, and he felt something give way inside of him. It was the last of his doubts he realized, as he leaned down to capture her lips with his once again. Amy had freed him from chains that he hadn't even realized were binding him. He owed her greatly for that.
Then she darted her tongue out to play along the seam of his lips and he forgot everything but her.
He pushed her down hard into the mattress so that he could recapture one of her delectable breasts with his mouth. With his hands, he teased the other globe, pinching and twisting her nipple until she squirmed beneath him. Then his hands stroked lower, across the flat of her stomach which he could imagine soon swelling with their child. This time, he allowed himself a moment to savor the image and found that it made him wild to have her once again, hoping that this time, he might plant that seed if he hadn't done so already.
"Open for me, sweeting," he breathed as his hand skimmed the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. Amy did as he asked, spreading her legs wide in welcome. He stroked his fingers along her slit, pleased to find her ready for him at his slightest caress. "So wet." Then he kissed her again. "But not yet. First your pleasure. As always." It seemed as though there was a bit of gentleman left in him after all.
Slowly, Gibson kissed his way down her body, lavishing attention on every inch of her skin. If this was to be their last time until the wedding - and he would see about purchasing a special license to speed things up if necessary - then he would make it count. By the time he reached her navel however, he knew he had captured her full attention.
"Gibson, please," she begged but he continued to kiss and caress her, all the way over her feminine mound, down her thighs to her delicate ankles and then finally, her feet. By the time he was done, there was not a part of her that he had not worshiped or touched, kissed or caressed.
When he worked his way back up her body, he spent extra time on her inner thighs, kissing and biting the tender flesh until her legs quaked and she clutched blindly at the bedclothes. She was so close to finding her release, but she was not there quite yet. So, with trembling hands of his own, Gibson parted her feminine lips and slid first one finger and then a second deep inside of her.
The sudden rush of pleasure hit Amy with the force of what she imagined it might be like to be shot out of a cannon. Her entire body shuddered before going higher once more and then crashing back down to Earth. Her mind was spinning, filled only with thoughts of the man she loved.
Before she could come completely back to herself, Gibson was over her, looking down into her eyes with love and longing. If she could hold that look inside of her heart forever, it would still not be long enough. Then, he was pushing inside of her, and she opened to welcome him. She was still tight, and he was still overly large, but this time, it was different. There was no pain, only a sense of completion and rightness that made tears spring to her eyes.
Then he began to move inside of her, stroking in and out, and she felt herself begin to tighten around him as he pushed her to the precipice once more. She clutched at his shoulders, binding him to her with all the strength that she had. When he tried to pull away, she held him tighter still and locked her legs around his waist. They were to be wed soon. If he got her with child, it would not matter. In fact, she would welcome it. It would be a child created from her love with Gibson. It would be perfect.
Gibson knew he should do what was right and pull out before he spilled himself inside of Amy's delectable body but she held him fast, and, in truth, he did not want to leave her. He hadn't the last time, and he would not do so now, not when their hearts were irrevocably linked. He wanted a child with her. If that happened today, so much the better.
With each flex of his hips, he drove deeper into her until she was crying and moaning his name, her body arching up to match the rhythm of his. Then, he was gone, his pleasure crashing over him in a fearsome wave as he emptied his seed into her and she willingly accepted all that he had to give. She followed close behind him, finding her own pleasure when he reached between them to stroke her pearl of pleasure.
It was complete and perfect and right. After years of searching, Gibson had finally come home, and he had found that home in the arms of Lady Amy Cheltenham, the last woman on earth that should want him. But he was ever so glad that she did. Even if he wasn't worthy of the honor.
Some time after their passion had cooled, Amy lay in the cradle of Gibson's arms, relishing the feel of his body next to hers. She could get used to this rather quickly, she thought.
"I should leave," she whispered, though she still stroked her fingers up and down his chest, toying with the crisp hair there. "I am certain that someone back at Cheltenham House will have noticed that I am gone by this time." She did not want to leave, but she knew she must. Even her family could only allow the boundaries of propriety to be pushed so far. "They will, of course, think to come here immediately." Then again, Marcus was still adjusting to being back in London, and her parents were newly reunited after her father's long trip. The sun was barely up yet. Perhaps she had more time than she suspected.
Gibson kissed the top of her head. "I know. Not to mention that I have business to attend to. I need to pay a visit to Carlton House to properly thank my benefactor." He stroked Amy's hair, still marveling at his good fortune. "Then, I shall visit the jeweler that I treat for gout on a regular basis. If one is going to properly propose to the woman of his dreams, he does need a ring, after all."
Amy turned in his embrace. "I do not need a ring, Gibbs. Truly, I do not." She also did not want him to suffer the additional expense until his funds were returned to him. "It is not as if it will come as a surprise to anyone in society that we are to be married."
"I want you to have a ring. In fact, I insist." He chuckled, thinking that no man in London could be luckier than he was at the moment. "Besides, it will look better when I officially ask your father for your hand later today if I come bearing a ring. Fathers are funny about that sort of thing when it comes to their daughters."
Running a finger down the length of her bare arm, Gibson found himself imagining a future with Amy by his side. He wasn't certain what all that future held, but he liked the idea of it and he loved her. The rest would come in time. "After I return to Wintercrest, I will look into the whereabouts of my mother's jewels. I do not know what became of them, but if they are still mine since they were entailed and can be located, I will replace whatever bauble I buy you with the family's betrothal ring."
> "Oh, Gibson." Amy was completely at a loss for words. A true family betrothal ring was beyond anything she had expected.
He laced his fingers through hers, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. "My grandfather gave it to my grandmother the day they married. He had it fashioned for her from a ruby gifted to him by a friend. The gem was rumored to be from the elaborate headdress of an Indian princess who was rescued by a man in the employ of the East India Company. The princess, according to legend, was captured by a neighboring household and was to be forced to marry the local tribal leader's son, a brutal man whom she feared would beat her."
Amy snorted, even though she knew it was not ladylike. Or at all proper. "So far, this is not a happy story."
"It will be. Do you want to hear the rest or not?"
She acted as if she didn't care, but at heart, Amy was fascinated. "Go on with you then." Then she snuggled back against his chest to listen.
"As I was saying, the princess was kidnapped, but being a clever and resourceful woman, she managed to flee the compound one night and attempted to return home. On her journey, she was cornered by a tiger. Certain she was about to meet a horrible death, she prayed for a savior." Gibson had heard his mother tell this story so often that he knew it by heart. Now he was passing it on to the woman that he prayed would some day soon be the mother of his children. In time, she could share it with them.
"It is getting better," Amy allowed, sliding her hands down over Gibson's bare thigh, eager to make love to him once more before she had to leave. "Continue."
"Just as the princess was certain that she was about to be eaten, this man, her rescuer, stumbled across the scene. He killed the tiger before it could devour the princess. Of course, she fell madly in love with her rescuer and gifted him the ruby as a symbol of their eternal love after he returned her safely to her father's home. When the princess died young, before she and her rescuer could even marry, the heartbroken man left India and returned home to England."
Gibson toyed with Amy's fingers. "Legend has it that man looked for a most perfect love upon his return. He sought one that equaled the love he had shared with the princess, so that he might gift the ruby to another couple before he himself passed on from the same illness that had claimed the life of his lady love."
"That is a very nice story, even though it has a sad ending," Amy sighed wistfully, "but it is only a story, just the same." It was also very romantic. She had to give Gibson that. But she still wanted him to fill her body with his heat once more. Preferably soon. She was quickly discovering that she was far more of a wanton than she had realized.
He shushed her. "I am not done yet. Be still so that I may finish." After so long, it felt wonderful to be able to tease Amy just as he would have done had he been courting her officially. "As I was saying, this man looked everywhere for a perfect love, but all he found were pale imitations of the passion he and his Indian princess had shared. He was dying, as I said, and thought that all hope was lost. Then he met my grandfather."
Gibson's voice grew softer now, and Amy found that she was eagerly anticipating the rest of the story. "My grandfather described my grandmother in glowing terms and poured his love for her into every word that he spoke. He could not stop singing her praises. That was when the man knew he had found someone worthy to carry on the tradition of his love affair with the Indian princess and gifted my grandfather the ruby. It was that very ruby that he had made into the ring he gave my grandmother on their wedding day."
Amy was at a loss for words once more. Still she knew she had to say something. "Oh, Gibson." It was all she could manage with her throat so clogged with love for him and all he had lost. Yet those two words conveyed more emotion than she could have expressed with a thousand lines of poetry.
Rolling over onto his back, Gibson pulled Amy with him until she sat astride him. "It is that ring, God willing, that I will give to you on our wedding day, Amy. For that is how much I love you. As much as the lovers in the story, if not more. More so than I can find the words to say. And I was a fool for thinking that I could deny it."
Amy leaned down to kiss him, her breasts bushing against his chest. "Gibson, I love you. I have from the very first moment I saw you. I only prayed that I could be bold enough, not to mention scandalous enough, to do what was necessary to make you mine." Then she rose up and lowered herself onto his straining erection and spent the next hour or so showing him how exactly much she adored every inch of him. Scandal be damned.
Chapter Eighteen
Two weeks later
Society Tales
Wedding bells are in the offing and sooner than anticipated by many, at least from what this author hears! The Lady A will soon become the Countess of A., once she marries her newly reinstated viscount. Or should I say earl? It could not happen for two more deserving people, and this author is thrilled beyond measure for them both. They deserve nothing but a lifetime of happiness.
Now if only the Viscount of B. would look just a bit more cheerful, all would be well, I believe. After all, he has been dubbed the catch of the season by almost everyone in society! It is time that he embraced that role!
- Lady X
"You look exceptionally lovely tonight, my lady. Even if you are back in pastels." Gibson eyed the pale pink frock trimmed in white lace that Amy was wearing, certain that it was another Madame LaVallier creation, though much too plain for his tastes. However they were at a ball being hosted in their honor, so he could not complain overly much. He certainly did not want to embarrass their very generous hosts, Lord and Lady Chillton, or his old friend and their son, Lord Alex, in any way.
Still, he felt the need to make one final point on the matter understood. "Once we are wed, those colors will be forbidden. I want that to be perfectly clear. The Countess of Ardenton will be renowned for her taste and style, as well as her bold color choices, not to mention the daringly low cuts of her gowns. The more scandalous, the better." Amy required bright colors to make her sparkle the was she deserved, and Gibson would make certain that she had them. There was nothing too good for the woman he loved.
"Once we are married, no one will care." Amy felt as if she was floating on a cloud. The last two weeks had been the most wonderful and perfect of her life. In a few days, she and Gibson would be wed by special license. Things could only improve. Of that, she had no doubt. "They only talk now because it gives them something to do. The daughter of an earl, a woman distantly in line for the throne, engaged to a man who was, until recently anyway, a physician in the royal court?"
She clucked her tongue in the same way she had heard many society matrons do over the years. "Completely improper. Unheard of. Just not the thing to do. Scandalous. Beyond improper, really." Then she winked, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "So you see, those here tonight have plenty of things to talk about other than what I am wearing. The same will be true once we are wed. Especially with some new and extremely eligible bachelors back in town for the remainder of the season."
Gibson chuckled and led Amy away from the refreshment table and back towards the dance floor. "I will care what you are wearing," he informed her, unable to hide the smile that had been gracing his face since that perfect, wonderful morning in his home. "Though, to be honest, I prefer you in nothing at all."
"Gibson, behave," Amy chided as they passed several other couples on their way back to the ballroom. "We are behaving in a simply scandalous manner. It is most unbecoming of us." The she gave him another wicked smile. "But perhaps, that is to be expected considering everything." She was pleased with her own wit, especially when Gibson smiled as well. He did not do that often enough in her opinion.
"My darling, we are far beyond scandalous at the moment," he whispered in her ear. "In fact, I believe we passed that stage long ago, what with The Paragon affianced to the son of a traitor. Though thankfully, our friends do not seem to mind."
It still confounded Gibson that, to a large degree, he had been accepted so fully and easily into t
he bosom of the ton. Oh, there were some old dragons who disapproved, to be certain, but he had already been assured he would receive a voucher for Almack's once he regained his official title from the Prince Regent. Both Coleridge and Radcliffe had offered to sponsor him at White's, as well. Even in his most fevered dreams, Gibson could not have imagined such gifts being bestowed upon him.
He was also surprised that the Selby family had agreed to host this evening's ball in his and Amy's honor, officially welcoming Gibson back into society. The Selbys, led by the patriarch, the Earl of Chillton, were distant relations to the Blackwells. Gibson had played with their son, Alex, when they were both young boys, but he hadn't seen anyone from the family since well before the scandal that had cost the Blackwells everything.
When the request to host the event had come, by way of Lord Coleridge, Gibson had been shocked. He had also wanted to immediately decline, but both Coleridge and Radcliffe had talked Gibson into allowing Lady Chillton to host the grand and glittering affair. They had both informed him that with her as his social champion, things would go much smoother for him as he re-entered society. Not to mention that a Chillton ball was not to be missed - as was evidenced by the stir that had been made that evening when both Marcus as well as Lady Julia's brother, Nicholas Rosemont, the Duke of Candlewood, had appeared at the ball, seemingly ready to socialize.
It was the first true appearance in society by either man all season and tongues were already wagging. Gibson had no doubt that Caroline would cover every salacious bit of gossip extensively in her Lady X column the next morning. At the moment, she stood partially hidden behind potted plant, as if trying to blend in. She was not, he decided, doing a very good job. It would be a gift to her if someone would tell her that she was miserable at attempting to hide herself from the crowd.
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