Sans Regret

by Alice Gaynes

  She nodded and let her arms fall to her sides. With the detachment she’d taught herself over the years, she watched as he rubbed soap over her breasts. He did it gently and with great concentration as if worshiping her flesh. Already puckered with the cold, her nipples remained stiff as he washed them and the skin around them. Warmth sank into her right to her bones. She’d be glowing now, even if the dim light wouldn’t show him that.

  “Feeling better?” he murmured.

  “I feel…” She took a deep breath, “Wonderful.”

  “Then I’ll save the paddling for another night.” His voice might have held a bit of laughter in it. With the thunder and lightning moving away, the whole scene became more tranquil. Mist over the hot water, the glow of a candle, the perfume of soap—all very relaxing with only the patter of rain against the window.

  What a remarkable night—to start with fury, first his and then the storm’s—and now this gentleness. She’d sort it all out tomorrow. Tonight belonged to her senses.

  Finished with her breasts, he dipped the cloth into the water and used it to rinse the soap from her skin. Finally he set the cloth aside and sat back on his heels. “You’re clean.”

  “I wasn’t dirty.”

  “But you were half frozen.” He rose and took a towel from the rack, holding it out to her. She climbed out of the tub and wrapped it around herself while he opened the drain to let the water out.

  So here she found herself again—back in the bathroom with the bars on the windows. Where those bars had held her in before, tonight they held the world outside. Nothing existed in here but herself, the man who’d just shown her body such reverence, and the sound of rain.

  His reflection appeared in the mirror just behind hers and he took the towel from her to dry her shoulders and then her back. He knelt, moving the cloth over her buttocks and down her legs. He even pressed his hands between her thighs, massaging her sex. The touch was so intimate and yet as natural as breathing. She looked at her own reflection in the glass as he worked. Instead of the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes of a woman older than her true age, she found a more complete human being. One used to touching and being touched and not afraid of the contact. Had he really transformed her or was this just a trick of the light?

  Before she had an answer, he rose again and wrapped the towel around her hair. Then he got another dry one, wrapped her in that and led her into the bedroom.

  “Wait here a moment,” he said, as he walked to the bed and turned down the covers. “Now sit while I build the fire.”

  She did as he said, the sheets smooth and cool beneath her rump. The firelight grew brighter as he poked the small fire and added some wood. Soon warmth and light filled the room as flames danced up into the chimney. Such luxury, such pure hedonism. All for her pleasure.

  That done, he turned and set the poker into its holder beside the hearth. He stood there for a long minute, studying her. With his face in shadow, she couldn’t read his expression but his body had gone tense. Then slowly he removed his robe and dropped it to the floor. She had enough light to see his body—the strength and power of his shoulders, the broad muscles of his chest. More than enough light to notice he was aroused, his sex thick and long, standing straight out from his pelvis.

  She licked her lips. “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done before. What I would have done if you’d let me.”

  Her breath caught. “Frig me?”

  “Make love to you.”

  “I don’t know…”

  He walked to the bed and stood there, towering over her. “Yes you do.”

  “Wortham,” she said. “James.”

  “For once can’t you just trust me?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Caroline sat on the bed she’d cried herself to sleep on—at least until she’d convinced herself tears only wasted time—and stared at the man standing over her. Unlike her husband, he was young and strong and so impossibly large. Until tonight, she’d only taken Oakhurst’s cock inside her sex. Earlier this evening, she’d allowed James to know her body. Now he’d know her much more intimately than that.

  He sat beside her, bringing the heat of the fire with him. The scent of soap still clung to his hands as he reached up to take the towel from her head. Carefully he shook her hair loose and arranged the damp strands around her shoulders.

  “I’ll never forget how you looked at Blakeley’s with your curls trailing down your back,” he said. “Positively scandalous.”

  “And you’re always looking for scandal aren’t you?”

  “I suppose that was true. Now other things seem more important.” He reached to the towel that covered her body. Her heart pounded and she clutched the cotton to her chest. He put his hand over hers. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know.” He hadn’t hurt her earlier when he’d been so angry. He’d treated her with tenderness ever since. He’d be gentle now and that could prove more lethal than anything her husband or his friends had ever done to her.

  Finally she let him take the towel and drop it to the floor, leaving her naked.

  He sighed. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Another time she might argue—tell him her sister had all the family’s beauty. Tonight she needed to believe him. She’d give herself to him and she needed to know he valued her gift.

  He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his face. Firelight reflected from his eyes and held her gaze. With his strong jaw and high cheekbones, lush lips and thick eyelashes, he took her breath away. And he thought she was beautiful.

  “No faking,” he said. “No pretending. Total honesty, Caroline.”

  She nodded.

  “Say it,” he said.

  “Total honesty.”

  He smiled then and for a moment, her heart seemed to swell in her chest. She’d made the right decision, at least for tonight. She might regret this later. She might curse the day she’d ever planned to kidnap him. Tonight she’d take whatever pleasure he offered and hold it close in her heart.

  He guided her down onto the mattress and followed, covering her body with his much larger one. She opened her arms and welcomed him on top of her. While her blood rushed in her ears, she gazed up at him, waiting to see what he’d do. After the tiniest hesitation, he closed his eyes and brought his mouth to hers for a kiss.

  Sweet. So sweet. He took her lips as if he feared she’d break. She let her own eyes drift shut and let him caress her. Total honesty, he’d said and she’d agreed. She hardly knew her own body and how it responded without guile. But she’d promised him and she’d keep her word.

  He pressed harder, parting her lips with his own. She couldn’t hide a gasp of surprise and pleasure. Of all things, she’d hated anything in her mouth. Now she couldn’t get enough of him as he toyed with her upper lip and then the lower one.

  She ran her arms around his shoulders and raised herself to him. Her breasts rubbed against him, the nipples grazing the hairs on his chest. She grew achy and hot, her skin suddenly feeling too tight. Breath came hard now and she had to work to get enough air into her lungs. And yet the more his mouth took, the more he gave. Over and over until she could have wept at the care he put into the kiss.

  When his tongue slipped inside her mouth and touched her own, she whimpered. He stopped immediately and pulled back. “Too much?”

  “It’s wonderful,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”

  He smiled down at her. “That’s my girl.”

  Each of his smiles, every glint in his eye, felt like a gift to her. That she could please a man without humiliation—who would have guessed? She smiled back at him and then raised her head to nip at his chin.

  He laughed, a deep rumbling that she felt in his chest. “Wanton.”

  “You’ve made me so.”

  He lowered his head again, this time nuzzling her ear with his nose. His breath slipped inside, sending a tingling along her nerves to her spine and downward. Groaning his pleasure, he
nipped the lobe and then followed that with a pass of kisses under her jaw and along her neck. His skin was hot against hers, the muscles of his chest firm. He made her feel tiny next to his greater strength, as if he could snap her in two without a thought. But he also made her feel cherished, as if he treasured every inch of her. If he cared for her, surely she could learn to love herself.

  He moved lower, sliding is body over hers, while his hands stroked her everywhere—over her shoulders, under her arms, along her ribs. His lips left a trial of kisses as he went. All along her neck and over her collarbone, he nibbled and teased her with his tongue.

  She relaxed and let him have his way with her. Her limbs grew heavy and heat rose all around her, clouding her brain. Unwilling to forget even a moment of this heaven, she forced herself to open her eyes. Light from the fire played on the bed’s canopy. On the far wall, shadows moved—a dark head sliding lower, small fingers stroking his hair and urging him on.

  When his mouth closed over her breast, she gasped and arched her back. A current of pleasure shot through her, hot and urgent, all the way from her nipple to her belly and her sex. Her body thrummed with excitement as he suckled, drawing her flesh deep into his mouth. His hand moved to the other breast and teased the peak. Her sex grew moist as her arousal climbed higher.

  He knew how to play her, when to use a gentle stroke and when to rub harder. He switched breasts and cool air slicked the one he’d just kissed. He covered it with his hand though, warming it. The care he took, the way he loved her body, made her breath catch. A lump formed in her throat but she wouldn’t cry. As much as she’d resisted this moment, she’d been born for it. This man, in this bed, with this fire warming both of them. She’d never imagined how it would be to have a man so devoted to her body. She’d never dreamed. How could she? No dream could match this reality.

  He didn’t stop there but kept moving. Trailing his tongue down the center of her body, he kissed and nibbled toward her belly. His hands massaged her sides as he went, lifting her and bringing her to his mouth. She still kept her eyes open although the edges of her vision swam. The fire crackled in the grate and a log hissed, sending extra heat into the room.

  Now his hands roamed over her hips as his mouth reached her belly. He wouldn’t stop there. He’d go on to her sex and take her most sensitive flesh into his mouth. He’d done it before and she’d shattered into a hundred pieces. Would she be able to put herself back together tonight?

  Finally he slid all the way down, spread her legs and parted the lips of her sex with his fingers. Lying open for him this way, she could almost change her mind. She’d promised him honesty. If she honestly couldn’t go on, he’d stop, wouldn’t he?

  Then he licked the cleft of her sex and brushed the sensitive nub and every thought flew out of her head. No fear now, no second guesses. Only madness, rising passion. She closed her eyes and lay against the sheets, surrendering.

  He continued his assault on her senses. With his arms encircling her hips, he held her fast against his face while his tongue rubbed and probed the most sensitive spot on her body. He’d done this before but now it felt so right. Before he’d taken her by surprise, now she gave herself willingly. Before he’d used her body to his own advantage. Now he only meant to please and oh, how it worked.

  She reached down to stroke his hair, signaling her acceptance as a rush of tenderness warmed her heart. In the end, even that proved too much effort and she lay limp as tension coiled in her body. She floated in a universe of his making. Close, so close to the pinnacle. Still he continued, his strokes now firm and now soft, flicking his tongue over her until even breath left her.

  Now, James. Now, oh now!

  When she couldn’t stand any more, when the madness threatened to overtake her, he stopped.

  She whimpered in protest. How could he do this and then stop? Before she could find her voice, he moved to place himself between her legs and eased the tip of his cock inside her. A new set of sensations washed over her—too strong to resist. The storm claimed her and she tossed back her head and shouted. The spasms started deep inside her and erupted along the depths of her sex. Gripping him tightly, over and over, she climaxed with a force that stole her sanity.

  He pressed fully into her and the orgasm went on. Wave after wave of pleasure, while she gasped for breath.

  When it was finally over, she lay back against the sheets and basked in the glow of the fire, the heat of his body and the delight of spent passion.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You didn’t fake that.”

  “No.” She opened her eyes and looked into his beautiful face. His smile was self-satisfied to the point of smugness. He’d earned the right.

  “I suppose you’re proud of yourself, Lord Wortham,” she said.

  “I’m proud of you, Lady Oakhurst.” His eyes widened and a warm glow entered them. “I love you, you know.”

  “Love?” Her voice came out as quiet as a breeze. She hardly dared to whisper the word.

  “Can you doubt it?”

  “Love,” she repeated.

  “If I didn’t love you, I’d have taken your redheaded friend and that would have been that.”

  Exactly what Abby had told her. Only she could satisfy him and clearly only he could satisfy her. She’d achieved her goal—to bend him to her will—but she’d lost her own heart in the process.

  “Are you ready for more?” he asked.

  “Ah yes. More.”

  He pulled almost out of her and then surged forward again. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  “There’s more than enough of you.”

  “I’m not too large am I?”

  “You’re wonderful.”

  “Thank heaven.” He thrust again, burying himself deep inside her. “I’m afraid I’ve reached the end of my endurance. I’m not sure I can be gentle.”

  “Make love to me.”

  He moved then, sliding in and out of her smoothly. She’d grown so wet, she took his bulk easily. Of all the miracles he’d shown her, this was perhaps the greatest. They fit together—her sex gripping his, his cock filling her. They completed each other, joining together as nature meant. Even more remarkable, his face showed his emotion. His eyes closed and a flush of arousal colored his cheeks. He’d surrendered to the passion just as she had and he’d laid himself open to her just as she had to him. Her heart soared at the knowledge and she stroked the side of his face. With his eyes still shut, he kissed the palm of her hand but didn’t stop thrusting into her and back out again.

  After a moment she caught the madness. The fire built inside her again and he drove her harder. He picked up the pace—faster, harder, deeper. She wrapped her legs around him, lifting herself to meet his thrusts. Her body had been made for this and she blossomed now as the two of them approached the ultimate. She couldn’t turn back now. He’d changed her forever.

  His face twisted into an expression of complete concentration and passion. “I can’t…God…last. Come with me.”

  “Yes, James.”

  “Now.”

  “Yes.”

  He went wild, plunging into her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. She clutched his shoulders and let him ride her. The pressure built again as her body prepared to climax. Closing her eyes, she soared into bliss. Past sanity, past resistance, to completion.

  She cried out as she came. His voice joined hers. He roared as his whole body stiffened. One more savage thrust and he emptied himself into her. They clung to each other while wave after wave of joy carried them together to a new land. Joined together for tonight and forever.

  When it ended finally they collapsed together against the sheets. Sweat slicked and sated. United.

  * * * * *

  The morning dawned as bright as the night before had been stormy. Sunlight teased the back of Caroline’s eyelids and she opened her eyes to the sight of shadows on the wallpaper. Bars. She was in her old bedroom.

  A weight across her chest reminded of
how she’d gotten here. A large arm lay across her, the hand cupping one of her breasts. Long, graceful fingers. One sported a signet ring. Wortham. James. Her lover.

  She looked over at his face. His eyelashes spread over his cheek, giving him an almost innocent look. Only the angle of his jaw and the stubble darkening it testified that this was no boy but a man in his prime. Strong, powerful, seductive.

  She’d fallen in love with the man who’d stolen her sister’s virtue and ruined her. The man she’s sworn to take vengeance against. How had she let that happen? And what did she do now?

  She lifted his hand and moved to slip away but he caught her. His arm snaked around her and pulled her hard against him. He gave off enough heat to be a furnace. She’d never awakened next to a man before as Oakhurst had always gone back to his own bed once he’d finished with her. Lying in the arms of a sleeping lover felt decadent. Pleasantly sinful. She could easily drift back to sleep surrounded by his warmth.

  No matter how delightful the prospect, she needed to put some distance between them to consider her predicament. With the first part of her plan accomplished—infatuating him completely—she needed to steel her heart to reject him and complete his ruin. Even as hardened as she’d become over the years, it might take more strength than she had to reject him. Lingering with him now wouldn’t help.

  She rolled over, putting her back against him and tried sliding away.

  His arm tightened again. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “It’s late. I should be up.”

  “You’re exactly where you should be.” He nipped at her shoulder and then laid kisses along her neck to her earlobe. “When I find a beautiful woman in my bed, I take full advantage.”

  “You’re my guest not the other was around.”

  He squeezed her breast, sending shocks of pleasure along her nerves. “I insist.”

  His hand continued its mischief, teasing her nipple until it hardened into a stiff peak. His touch worked its usual magic and soon her heartbeat quickened as she became aroused. His breath caressed her temple and slid into her ear. So delicious, she couldn’t help but moan with pleasure.