A Viscount of Mystery

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Turning to face him, Caroline put a gloved finger to his lips. "Hush, Marc. You are not a beast and you know it." Her voice was soft, as she was unwilling to disturb the stillness that seemed to cloak this part of Mayfair, as if cutting it off from the rest of London.

  In truth, she had questioned her decision numerous times since they had departed the Saintwood's ball in Marcus' carriage but each time the tiny voice inside of her spoke up, Caroline pushed it back down. She wanted this. More to the point, she wanted Marcus and she meant to have him. After tonight? Well, she would deal with the consequences on the morrow.

  Tonight was all about feeling. And right now, what she most wanted was to feel the heat of Marcus' skin beneath her bare hands. Just this once, she told herself sternly, and then never again. Tomorrow, she would redouble her efforts to secure a match for him. For tonight, however, he was all hers. And she would not allow herself to regret it.

  At the top of the stairs he stopped and turned to her. "If not a beast, then what am I? Let us not pretend that I am still the dashing young rake that I was or that I do not roar like some wild creature when the occasion warrants it." He slid his thumb gently over the back of her hand. Though two layers of fabric separated them, to Caroline it felt as if he were touching her intimately so hot did her skin burn. "If I am not a beast, then what am I?"

  "A man, Marc," she said, moving closer to him. "Simply a man who has endured much." Then she looked up at him and saw the desire burning in his eyes, but it was mixed with the anger she had come to expect lurking in their depths. "But for now, no more talk of beasts or less than whole bodies. For now, there is just this." Then she decided to be bold and stood on her toes to press a soft kiss to his chin.

  That was all it took to ignite the blaze. Within moments, Marcus had tossed his cane aside and pulled Caroline to him, practically dragging her down the hall. He would have liked to have carried her, but he wasn't certain that he could support both his weight and hers on his damaged leg. As it was, the muscles quivered as if they meant to give way but he forged on, unwilling to allow anything to mar the events of the evening.

  By the time they reached his bedchamber, her fingers were tugging at his cravat in an attempt to undo the complex knots. He could feel her breasts against his chest and longed to taste them, to pull the sweet buds into his mouth once more and suckle there, giving her pleasure.

  He was about to unlace her gown, a frothy affair of some sort of aqua-hued silk and gold threads when there was a knock at his door.

  "My lord? Do you need my assistance preparing for bed? Is there something amiss?"

  Damn! It was his valet, Anderson. Normally, Marcus rang the bell pull the moment he closed his bedchamber door. Since he had not done so this evening, it was clear that the valet thought Marcus might be in some sort of distress.

  Clearing his throat, Marcus tried for what he hoped was a dull tone. "No, Anderson. My leg is merely annoying me and I do not wish to bother."

  "But your evening clothes. They will wrinkle." Anderson took his job of caring for Marcus very seriously, right down to the fashionable, not to mention expensive, clothes his master wore.

  "I... I do not wish for you to see my leg this evening. It is... Ugly." Marcus hated the deception but he also knew that the valet could not stand the sight of the cut muscles that had grown back together in oddly shaped knots. That was one of the reasons Marcus had not been overly keen on Caroline's plan to find him a proper young bride, despite his initial agreement. Once he thought upon the matter, he came to the conclusion that his leg would most likely repulse a young lady of good breeding as much as it did his proper and overly stuffy valet.

  As for Caroline? Well for some odd reason, Marcus thought that she would most likely understand. After all, she understood everything else about him and dealt well with him, even when he was in his finest temper and at his most disagreeable. He did not think she was likely to be unsettled by a bit of twisted leg. He could be wrong, of course. He hoped not.

  "I understand, my lord." Anderson cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the path this conversation had taken. So was Marcus, and he glanced over to see Caroline biting her knuckle as if to keep from making a sound. He prayed she was not pitying him or worrying over the state of his leg. He did not want nor need those particular emotions from her.

  "I promise you that I will hang up my things to the best of my ability, Anderson. You can see to them properly in the morning." Marcus hated sounding as if he was deferring to a servant, especially in the presence of a lady he hoped to bed. Then again, Anderson had been with Marcus for many years and had helped him learn to walk using the cane. He had also been there to insist Marcus continue the eye exercises that Dr. Hastings had prescribed. Without his valet, it was unlikely that Marcus would even now be well enough to consider bedding Caroline. Therefore, in Marcus' opinion, he owed Anderson some small amount of deference along with a healthy dose of respect.

  Not to mention that it would not do to anger or annoy one's valet. They knew a man's deepest secrets, after all.

  "Very well." Marcus heard Anderson clear his throat. "If that will be all, my lord, I shall see you in the morning."

  "Good night, Anderson." Marcus made certain that his voice was firm, not wanting to delay his time with Caroline any longer. "And not at first light for a change. I fear that it might be some time until I can sleep given the way my leg throbs."

  "Very good, sir." For once, the valet did not seem to want to put up a fuss.

  When Anderson's footsteps finally died away, Marcus turned to find Caroline still biting that same knuckle. His heart sank to his bloody knees. God. She was laughing at him. How mortifying.

  "Caroline, if you have changed your mind, I understand." Marcus did his best not to let his disappointment show. "That was not exactly the best way to enhance the mood, was it?" God, he was making a muck of this! What had happened to the suave, sophisticated man of the world he had once been? Oh, right. That man had died in this very room, his body cut to ribbons. The new Marcus had emerged in his place, one that was far less a man and far more dependent on servants than he would like.

  "Oh, Marc." Instead of laughing, Caroline was smiling. There was also not a trace of pity anywhere to be found in her expression. And she still looked as if she wanted nothing more than to undress him where he stood. Perhaps he had not made a complete disaster of things after all. "Do you not understand? You could never appear less of a man to me, no matter what you do."

  It was nothing less than the truth. For in her eyes, there would never be a finer man than Marcus Cheltenham. She would never meet a man she desired more. Nor one she loved to distraction the way she loved him.

  Slowly, she reached up and finished undoing his cravat before tossing the offending piece of fabric aside. "Now where were we?" She was being seductive, she knew, far more than a supposed innocent should be. But she was not an innocent and had not been for some time. She had, however, come to terms with what had happened to her and did not fear men or sex. Thank God for small favors, she thought as she gazed up at Marcus in what she was certain was probably foolish adoration.

  "Somewhere just about here, I think." Marcus ran his hands down the length of her arms and then back up before tugging at the bodice of her gown. "You are so soft and lovely, Caro. So very much what I desire."

  "Then show me," she whispered, leaning up to kiss him again, feeling the heat of his body beneath her lips and relishing the feeling. "I want to know, Marc. I want to feel you."

  She saw him grin, a flash of gleaming white teeth in the darkness and then his lips were at her throat, kissing and nipping at the delicate flesh, tasting her as if she was some rare treat and he a staring man. When he reached into her bodice to caress her breasts, she groaned, a low and throaty sound that received an answering growl from him.

  Unable to stop herself, she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. "I want to feel you, Marc," she whispered again, giving vo
ice to a need that had plagued her since the moment she had seen him in the Devonmont's ballroom. "I want to know all of you." Then she pushed ineffectively at his evening coat, her hands unable to find a way to strip the tight garment from his body.

  To her surprise, he pulled back and studied her for a moment. "You truly mean that, don't you?" There was a note of wonder in his voice, as if he could not quite believe that a woman desired to see him naked.

  "I do." Then, as if sensing that he still hesitated, Caroline decided to be bold for once. This was likely to be her only night with Marcus. She would not lose it.

  Reaching behind her, she tugged on the ribbons of the gown, which was easier than she had expected since Marcus had done a fair job in loosening them. Since she was so small chested, she often went without a corset and had done so tonight as well. Once the gown was loose enough, she slid it off of her shoulders and then took a deep breath before allowing it to drop to the floor in a pool of brightly colored fabric at her feet.

  She saw his eyes, even his poor one, drawn to the curve of her breasts and the rosy tips of her nipples that she knew were visible beneath the thin layer of her chemise. Even in the dim light of the room, she could see the appreciation flare in his eyes. Marcus was not the only one who feared his body was less than acceptable. Caroline had been told on numerous occasions that if only she had more feminine curves and a bigger bosom, she would be just lovely. If the way Marcus was gazing at her was any indication, however, he found no fault with her looks.

  In silence, Marcus moved towards her, his eyes never leaving her breasts. She wasn't certain what she expected him to do, but when he dropped to his knees before her, she was quite sure she had not anticipated that.

  "Lovely," he breathed, reaching out to caress her hip with his hand. It was rougher than he would have liked, but then, he was not exactly a man of leisure any longer, the grueling workouts necessary to help him regain his strength taking their toll on various parts of him, including his hands. "Just as I knew you would be."

  "And yours for the taking," she offered, wanting him to know that she would be his - for this night anyway. Despite the way they had snuck into the town house as if she was some member of the demimonde, her need for him had not cooled. If anything, it was stronger now than it had been before.

  Unable to stop himself, Marcus leaned forward to nuzzle the soft skin of her stomach. He could smell her musky scent and immediately found his cock growing harder - as if he hadn't already been hard with desire for her. It was all he could do not to simply drag her to the floor and push inside of her. That would not do, he thought as he wrestled with himself inwardly for control. This was Caroline and she deserved better.

  However he still wanted to taste her. Intimately. And that treat he would not deny himself.

  Slowly he slid the thin, silky fabric of her chemise up the long length of her legs, relishing the feel of her satin skin beneath his fingertips. When the fabric was bunched about her waist, she reached down and pulled the garment over her head with one yank so that she was bare before him save for the diamond necklace she wore.

  She moved to take it off, but he squeezed her arse lightly, looking up at her with what he knew had to be raw desire written all over his face. "Leave it on." It was a command, not a request, a bit of the old Marcus slipping back into the new man he had become. Caroline seemed to sense the change as well for she did as he asked, her hands falling away from her throat.

  "As you wish, my lord." The words should have enraged him and might have at another time. In that moment, however, they were softly whispered, a seductive reply meant to tease him as she ruffled his hair with her fingers.

  With a growl, he widened her stance and before she could protest, he tasted her intimately. The moment he began to lap at her sweet, honeyed entrance, he knew that a single night would never be enough. He could feast upon her forever. All she had to do was allow it.

  Caroline felt as if she might faint. She had known but a single moment of sexual...well pleasure was certainly not the correct word. Interaction, maybe. Whatever it had been, aside from violent, it was certainly not this, a feeling as if she was being worshiped, Marcus' tongue making all sorts of delicious promises as his hands stroked her body, fanning the flames of her desire.

  When he pulled back, she made a mewling sound, missing the loss of his body on hers already. However when she saw him reach for the buttons on his waistcoat, she stilled. He was going to disrobe for her. She did not want to miss a single moment, for she had thought he would not allow himself to be seen completely naked - not even by her. She had imagined the changes in his body after his illness and had longed to see them for herself. Now she was about to be granted her wish.

  It took him very little time to divest himself of both his waistcoat and evening shirt, the thin material peeling back to reveal well-sculpted muscles that belonged more on a statue than a man. The last time she had seen him unclothed, he had been thin and frail, his body wracked by fever. No longer. This man before her was hale and hearty, a solid wall of muscle that she longed to explore.

  "Last chance, Caro," he whispered as his hand came to rest at the placket of his pants. "Once I am naked, I fear I will not be able to stop. I want you far too much and my control is tenuous at best."

  "Then do not," she replied, unable to take her eyes from the massive bulge at the front of his trousers. The man her uncle had forced her to lie with had not been large, and for a moment, she wondered if Marcus would fit inside of her. She rather doubted it, even though logically, she knew that it was possible.

  Slowly, he approached her again and this time, when he took her in his arms, he could feel her tremble. "Do not be afraid, my love. I will not hurt you. Or at least I will try not to."

  He was referring to the pain of piercing her maidenhead. She needed to tell him not to be concerned. She needed to tell him she was no longer a virgin. But when she opened her mouth to do so, he placed a finger on her lips.

  "Hush, Caro." There was a wealth of meaning in those two words.

  "But, Marc. You need to know..."

  This time, he silenced her with a kiss. "At this very moment, all I need to know is that you want me. Nothing more and nothing less. The rest does not matter. What matters is that you want me just as much as I want you."

  "Perhaps more," she agreed, pulling her mouth from his, even though she was eager for his kiss again.

  "Then that is all that needs to be said." Before she could reply, he was kissing her again. This time, however, it was less of a kiss and more of a seduction.

  His lips brushed across hers, slowly at first, a whisper of a caress meant more to tease than to seduce. Then the kiss grew harder, the press of flesh to flesh more than a mere tease but less than a demand. One brush of his lips over hers and then again, back and forth until she found herself growing weak in his grasp.

  When she sagged against him, she parted her lips and Marcus seized the advantage, his tongue dipping inside of her mouth to brush against her teeth and tease her tongue for a moment before he pulled back, leaving her breathless. Over and over, dart and dip, tease and taste. He plundered her mouth as if he had all the time in the world, with each kiss coaxing Caroline to open for him all the more until she was helpless to resist him, her head titled and her tongue darting out to tangle with his.

  Gently he eased her back onto the bed, though she had no memory of even moving across the room with him, though she supposed she must have. She went willingly, loving the feel of his heavy, well-muscled body on top of her hers, all of that wonderful passion and desire just barely contained, the power in his body hers to command. For she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was as gone as she, this spell that had been woven between them capturing them both.

  Marcus stroked his fingers down the smooth column of her neck, his mouth leaving a blazing path of kisses as it trailed behind. At the hollow of her throat, he licked at her soft skin a moment before moving lower, tasting the sweet heat of
the valley between her breasts before pulling one nipple into his mouth and suckling lightly.

  Desire, hot and painful, shot through Caroline when he bit down on the sensitive bud, shooting her body off the bed and arching into his. She brushed against the hard planes of his chest, feeling the odd remnants of scars here and there, reminded of that horrible summer when he had been bled nearly to death.

  Then he took her other nipple in his mouth, using his fingertips to toy with the distended bud he had just sampled, and she forgot about his scars and his damaged leg. She did not even see his eye, unfocused and straining to see her clearly in the dim light of the bedchamber. All she could think of, all she could feel, was Marcus. He was everything to her in this moment.

  Blindly, she reached down to stroke him, suspecting that he might enjoy a few caresses of his own. Before she could take him in hand however, he stilled her movements. "No." His voice was a rough, jagged whisper. "I will not last."

  "Marcus." Caroline pawed at his chest, her body hot and aching. With each kiss, each teasing touch on her sensitive breasts, she found herself growing tighter deep inside, her body twisting and writhing, her need for release growing. "I need to tell you..."

  "No." This time the words were fierce and commanding, effectively silencing her. He did not want to hear whatever she might say. In Marcus' mind nothing mattered but this soaring heat mixed with need that had been growing between them from the moment he had strode into the Devonmont's musicale and announced to the world that he was returned. "Just this. Just us." He ground out the words as if he were in pain, which was very near the truth.

  Between his legs, his cock throbbed and he could smell the scent of Caroline's sex. He had not brought her to release as had been his plan, but she did not seem to need the help as she was already slick. As if she was anticipating this as much as he was. As if she knew what came next.