As Lockwood joined Crawford in chuckling, Jeremy shook his head and exited the room. He certainly didn’t feel like a wolf when he thought of meeting with Penelope. Not after everything that had happened the previous day.
He felt like something. But not a predator.
Penelope paced around the quiet back parlor in Jeremy’s home. Her hands shook and felt sweaty as she clenched them behind her back and tried to find some semblance of calm. She failed miserably. Her mind was spinning and her stomach did flip-flops as she awaited Jeremy’s appearance and prayed he wouldn’t appear chagrined when he saw her there.
The door to the parlor opened, and Jeremy stepped inside. She stared at him, examining his face for any adverse reaction to her presence. But there was none. In fact, he hardly reacted at all. Her heart sank.
“Is everything well?” Jeremy asked as he moved into the room and motioned her to a chair. “I worried when I received your missive.”
Penelope fought a blush of pleasure. It had been a long time since someone worried about her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trouble you,” she said. “I am…well enough. I just needed…”
She broke off. Oh, it was so hard to explain this to him. She was going to sound silly. Fragile. Wanton.
“Needed?” he pressed, his voice soft as he looked at her with encouragement.
“I just needed to talk to you.” She shook her head at her own folly. “It seems you are the one I have been turning to as of late. Perhaps too much.”
He frowned. “I’m glad you came. I actually had a question for you.”
Penelope slowly sank into the chair he had indicated and looked up at him with wide eyes. A question? She couldn’t read his expression at all, almost like he’d purposefully blanked his emotions away. Dear God, did he already know about her behavior? Her shocking conduct?
“What is it?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Fiona,” he said as he took his own seat. “Why did she run away from Wharton?”
Penelope felt her face fall. That was the last question she had expected, and while she was relieved that Jeremy hadn’t discovered her activities from some other source, she was now in an odd position. Jeremy was Anthony Wharton’s closest friend and confidante. Could she truly trust him with Fiona’s secret?
But then again, she was willing to trust him with her own. Perhaps he would understand her better if he knew what drove her.
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Your friend,” she began, locking eyes with him. “He was abusive to her.”
Jeremy sucked in a breath.
“He beat her quite badly before I met her. I noticed the bruises beneath her makeup one night when we bumped into each other at the opera. We talked, and one thing led to another. I offered a place on my staff, and Fiona took it to escape Wharton’s abuse. And I thought to escape the life of a courtesan.” She frowned as she thought of Fiona’s shocking behavior the night before. “But now I don’t know. Perhaps I was a fool to think Fiona wanted to be ‘saved.’”
Jeremy scrubbed a hand over his face, and his ashen countenance drew Penelope’s thoughts from her own confusing troubles. He looked physically sick as he stared at the floor with unseeing eyes.
“How could I have not known?” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her. “Was I so blind, so selfish, that I couldn’t…or didn’t want to see?”
Penelope’s lips parted in surprise. “You berate yourself for Wharton’s behavior?”
He glanced up at her as if he had momentarily forgotten her presence there. “I was with them many times. I should have seen, should have guessed. But I was too interested in only myself to notice.”
She got to her feet with a shake of her head. “It is not your fault, Jeremy. Fiona told me many times that she hid what was happening from the world. No one knew.”
“He seemed so angry,” he muttered, again to himself. “I thought he was just blustering, but…” He stopped and glanced up at her with wide eyes. “You stay away from him, Penelope.”
She sucked in a breath at the concern she saw on his face. He was pale and almost shaking as he rose to his feet.
“Jeremy—”
“Just stay clear of him.” He paced toward the door. “I need to speak to him. I need to make sure he won’t…do anything.”
Penelope leapt forward as Jeremy approached his parlor door. He was so distracted by the realization of his friend’s true nature, so upset that it appeared he was ready to leave her without hearing her true reasons for coming that afternoon. And she might not ever have another chance to tell him.
“Wait, please,” she said, hurrying to catch his arm. “Jeremy, I need your help. I need your council. I have nowhere else to turn.”
He stared at her fingers, curled around his arm, and then his gaze moved to her face. Suddenly there was a powerful flame of heat in his eyes. Desire. She was sure of it. It caught her off guard.
He had rejected her! He didn’t want her…did he?
“You need me?” he said with a tilt of his head.
She swallowed, recognizing the double meaning of his question. She chose to ignore it. “Yes.”
“What is it?” he asked.
She closed her eyes. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she forced her nervousness aside and let the words flow in a burst. “I told you about the man who was secretly writing to me. The one whom I met with that night at the ball. But I never told you the rest. He has been coming to me ever since, Jeremy. And I have been allowing him…liberties.”
She opened her eyes to judge his reaction and found that Jeremy was staring at her. But he didn’t seem horrified or upset or even surprised. He just…stared. Like he couldn’t believe she would confess such a thing.
“You have been letting him make love to you, you mean?” he asked blandly.
She shook her head as she released his arm and moved away. “No. Other things, but never that.” The words were hard to say, but they were also freeing. As if saying them out loud made them lose their constrictive power over her. “I somehow thought that I could distance myself if I didn’t let him actually make love to me. That I could remain only logical and use what happened between us in my fight against sensual excess, as you suggested.”
He moved toward her one step. “But it didn’t work?”
“No.” She sighed. “As hard as I tried, I was still moved by everything we did. More than I should have been. I’m so confused, Jeremy. I fought so hard against such things. I told myself I could live without passion, without pleasure. But now I understand why so many people lose themselves in lust. I did. I even went so far as to beg this man to take what I originally withheld, but he…he didn’t want me.”
There was a moment’s silence. “He is an idiot.”
She shook her head. “No, he isn’t. Perhaps he only sensed what a fraud I was. That I thought of…of someone else while he touched me.”
She covered her mouth the moment the words escaped her lips. She hadn’t meant to admit to that. Slowly, she let her gaze move up to Jeremy’s. He was staring at her, and for the first time strong emotion lined his face. His face had darkened, and the fire in his eyes was no longer lust but anger.
“Who?” he growled, moving toward her again.
She shook her head. She couldn’t confess that. Not for anything in the world. It was too much. Too hard.
“Who?” he repeated, and this time he said it louder. “Who did you think of while he touched you?”
Her breath was coming faster now, and tears stung her eyes.
“You,” she whispered. “I thought about you.”
Jeremy stopped advancing on Penelope as shock flooded him. He’d thought he understood every working of Penelope’s mind and body. He’d thought he could almost read her thoughts when he touched her. But he’d never known that while her “stranger” touched her, it was his own face that had danced before her eyes.
Her emotions were raw and real. And she had been so brave to
confess them when she already believed he had rejected her. Certainly, he had never been so daring or lain so much of himself on the line.
Without thinking, he caught her arms and yanked her against him. His lips came down and covered hers, and he devoured her mouth like he had been longing to do since the moment he entered the room. She was stiff in his arms for a moment, just a fraction of time while surprise shook her. But then her hands jerked up to his hair, and she returned his kiss with a fire and passion that was deeper and richer than any time he had come to her as the stranger.
Together, they staggered back toward the settee and fell against the cushions. Without breaking the kiss, Jeremy found the scooped neckline of her pretty blue gown and slipped his fingers beneath, nudging fabric aside until he found her rapidly hardening nipple beneath. She arched toward his hand with a little cry and sucked his tongue harder.
He didn’t ask her leave, and she didn’t resist as he tugged at buttons and pushed away layers of cloth to bear her breasts entirely. In fact, she helped him by shimmying out of the way as he pushed her dress and chemise around her waist.
His head dipped down and he caught the distended nipple, suckling her until her pulse quickened and she cried out softly. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she tugged him closer, urging him to take more, to explore more. To taste her and have her in the blaring afternoon light of the parlor.
Penelope didn’t stop to analyze or question what was happening. She just felt. Felt Jeremy’s hands on her skin. Felt the pressure of his growing erection move against her thigh. Felt the way his panting breaths caressed her breasts.
He wanted her. She wanted him. And there was no way in hell she was going to stop this from happening. She pushed at his jacket, tossing it behind the settee carelessly and then she went to work on his shirt, tearing at buttons until she had revealed a muscular, tanned expanse of flesh. Slipping her hands beneath she shuddered at the smooth, hot skin she found there.
He felt so good. She wanted him to press her into the cushions. She wanted him to slide his erection deep into her body. And she wouldn’t be satisfied until he had.
She tugged and they fell back, his mouth finding hers a second time. His fingers began to smooth her skirts up, higher and higher, closer and closer to her core until she almost couldn’t hear anything else for the rush of blood to her ears.
And then he touched her. Lightly. Slowly. His fingers caressed the wet lips of her sex, and she shivered with a delight and anticipation more powerful than any she’d felt before. Because she knew that these touches would lead to an intimate joining. And because this time, the man who touched her was Jeremy.
He growled his dissatisfaction as her gown slid down over her legs again. With a tug, he pulled it and her chemise over her hips in one smooth motion. She arched up to allow him to pull her gown away, leaving her only in her stockings and slippers.
She moved to drop her hips back onto the settee, but he didn’t let her. Instead, he cupped her backside, keeping her arched as he spread her legs with his shoulders.
Penelope watched as Jeremy cupped her thighs with his warm hands and looked down at her. Heat flooded her cheeks. Her faceless lover had looked at her like this, but she hadn’t been forced to watch. But with Jeremy, she saw every strain in his jaw, every sparkle in his eyes, every parting of his lips.
Then he lifted his gaze and snagged hers.
“So beautiful, Penelope,” he whispered before he bent his head and touched his lips to her sex.
She gripped at the settee cushions with a cry of pleasure. But it was also one of frustration. She had been tasted before. She had found release at the touch of a man’s fingers, his lips. What she wanted was a far deeper connection. A joining of two bodies.
She wanted to be had. Held. Pleasured even as she gave pleasure in return.
“Please,” she panted as he swirled his tongue around the hard nub of her clit. “No more torment.”
He jerked his head up and looked at her. Then he nodded. Pushing to his feet he shed what remained of his shirt and then kicked his boots away before he wrenched open the fastens of his trousers. Penelope sat up to lean against her elbows as the woolen fabric fell around his ankles. She sucked in a breath.
In all her midnight gropings of her secret lover, she had never been able to see his body clearly. But Jeremy stood before her, utterly naked and completely unabashed. He was hard and toned and proud as the sunlight warmed his skin. He was perfect.
Broad shoulders tapered down to an athletic, narrow waist. He had strong legs, ones that didn’t require the ridiculous padding that some gentlemen still wore to make them look bigger. And where his upper and lower body met, his strong, hard cock curled up against his stomach.
She leaned forward, shifting to her knees on the settee as she reached for him. Taking him in hand, she shivered against her will. He was so hot. So hard. She couldn’t help leaning forward and darting her tongue out to trace the rigid vein along the underside of his erection. To swirl her tongue around the sensitive head and lap up the little droplet of moisture that she found there.
Jeremy dipped his head back with a strangled moan. “I thought we weren’t tormenting anymore,” he growled as he caught her shoulders and lowered her back onto the settee.
Her legs came open as he settled between them, and her pulse began to race out of control as he positioned himself against her. She felt the hard tip of him probing her wet, soft entrance, and she stiffened as she prepared for the invasion she hadn’t experienced for over a year. The last time she felt it, it hadn’t been particularly pleasant.
“I won’t hurt you,” Jeremy said softly.
Penelope looked into his eyes in shock. Could he read her nervousness so clearly? Was that how close they had become in such a short time? She nodded.
“I trust you.”
He flinched a little at that statement, but then he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Look into my eyes, Penelope,” he ordered. “Don’t look away.”
Penelope hesitated. She was ready to surrender her whole body to this man. To let him claim her in an ancient and elemental way. And yet the idea of looking into his eyes seemed almost too intimate. But she finally lifted her gaze to his and held, losing herself in heated green depths.
As he stared at her, he slowly thrust forward, pressing inside her wet and ready body inch by inch. Penelope clutched at his arms as her channel stretched to accommodate him, but she never let her stare falter even as the pleasure mounted to a new and powerful height.
This was what she had been missing all those nights with her faceless admirer. This feeling of joining. Of completion. But she had a strong feeling, as Jeremy seated himself fully in her body, that even if her lover had taken her like this, it wouldn’t have been as powerful. Because she knew Jeremy. She had longed for Jeremy.
She loved Jeremy.
Penelope blinked, and her gaze darted away from his at that strong, stark realization. Love him? Was that possible? They had come together in an intense, personal relationship over the past few weeks, but could she love him? A man who had lived a life entirely opposite to hers? A man she still didn’t fully understand? A man who could hurt her so very easily if he tried?
“Penelope,” he said on a groan. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me.”
She forced herself to stare into his eyes. He began to thrust, so very gently, holding her gaze with a focused intensity that made the joining all the better. In his stare she saw so many things. Tangled emotions, hidden heartbreaks, and a gentleness that he rarely showed the world.
And she knew that loving him wasn’t something she could argue away or pretend hadn’t happened.
All she could do was surrender to the inevitable.
She clutched his arms and began to lift her hips to meet his shallow strokes. On each one, his pelvis ground against her sensitive clit, and the waves of pleasure built almost immediately. He held her stare evenly as he took and took, building the speed
of his thrusts, increasing their depth until Penelope could no longer hold back the overwhelming tide of pleasure. It washed over her as she cried out and dug her nails into his skin. But she never looked away from him. She took advantage of the light, of the intense closeness of their faces, and she watched every flicker of pleasure, every twitch of his strong jaw.
She knew he was going to lose control a moment before he actually did. And the knowledge that she had driven him over the edge catapulted her into another strong, unexpected orgasm. They arched together, their moans mingling as he stiffened and she felt the heated warmth of his essence flood her.
Jeremy dropped his head, and their foreheads touched gently. Their breath mingled and slowed into one seamless rhythm. And she felt his rapid pulse gradually slow to match her own.
Only when the calm was complete did he tilt his head to the side and kiss her. So gentle, so sweet. She tasted herself on his mouth. Tasted the remnants of desire and her body rippled around his.
He chuckled as he rolled to the side and held her against his chest. “You’ll have to give me a moment, Penelope.”
Penelope smiled as she placed her hand against his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart and it comforted her. As did his warm, strong arms around her. Something had happened here. Something more than sex. Something more than the realization that she loved him.
They had made a connection. And although she knew nothing of Jeremy’s heart, he seemed to be in no hurry to dismiss her. In fact, he pulled her closer.
“Next time, I want to savor you,” he murmured against her ear.
She shivered at the promise in his tone. “Next time, eh?”
“Yes.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, and Penelope tingled. “I plan on spending an eternity simply touching your skin. And then another tasting you all over.”
She smiled again, but then she stopped. Why did those words seem so familiar?
“I want to take you, Penelope. Hard and fast. Slow and easy,” he continued.
She sat up suddenly and stared down at him. She had heard those words before. No, not heard them. Read them. Both his statements were familiar because she had memorized them from her secret lover’s erotic letters to her.
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