“I do.”
She didn’t. She couldn’t possibly understand. He would marry her on the morrow because she was that important to him. He would have his revenge on Warren and Charlotte’s name would be protected. It was the best he could offer. And while she had refused him earlier, he would convince her otherwise over time.
His free hand released the buttons down the back of her bodice. When the last button fell loose and the bodice dropped forward on her slender frame, Charlotte pulled it from her arms and tossed it on the bench, and he worked methodically to remove her overskirt, releasing the ties individually. Charlotte’s breath hitched at each slight jerk back. With all the ties now loosened the material slid from her waist to pool on the floor at her feet. He made quick work of his vest, tossing it to the floor, and went about removing his cuff strings.
Needing to see her face and expression, he turned her around. Her gaze met his boldly. There wasn’t an ounce of trepidation or fear. She didn’t smile, nor did she frown. She just looked at him with a measure of trust that awed him. Had anyone ever given him such a look? He couldn’t recall a single person outside of his family that trusted him as thoroughly as Lady Charlotte did in this moment. He would not disappoint her; and he certainly wouldn’t give her a reason to not always look at him that way.
She held herself still for his perusal, standing proud with her chin up, unafraid of revealing herself to a man for the first time.
“It’s not too late.”
“Yes it is. I’m not going anywhere, Tristan.”
Her hands went around her hips and untied the underskirt. It dropped in increments as she released each tie in slow succession. They continued to gaze at each other as she let the soft linen swoosh to the floor to join her outer skirts.
Unabashed, she stood before him. Her corset was cinched tight, the flare of her hips and the curve of her breasts making her shape a perfect hourglass. The strings on her corset wrapped around her waist and tied at the front. He reached for them, pulling one of the tied hoops until it unraveled from its knot. She didn’t flinch or try to hold the corset from opening ever so slightly.
“Turn around,” he said.
She did so without hesitation. Because he wanted to enjoy undressing her to the fullest, he slowly threaded his finger around the middle strings and pulled. The corset loosened enough at the back so that he could squeeze the two ends of the busk together to remove the waist-cinching contraption. It was on the floor with the rest of her clothes in the next moment. Nothing but a chemise, pantalettes, and stockings stood between him and her naked skin. His mouth watered to taste her bare flesh.
As she turned, his hands slid from their hold about her hips, went around her back and stomach and then to her hips once more.
“You can still save your reputation and let me take you home. No one will ever know you were here. Only Dixon knows you arrived through the kitchen, everyone else is abed.” He needed her to be one hundred percent sure that this was what she wanted. Because come morning, she would become the lady of Castleigh. There was no way around that ending.
Shaking her head, she said huskily, “What comes next?”
He pulled his shirt from his trousers and lifted it over his head so he could toss that on the floor, too. “Whatever you like,” he responded.
She sucked in her bottom lip, and her gaze dropped to his naked chest.
Taking one of her hands, he pressed her flattened palm over his chest. “Touch me if you like,” he offered.
She looked into his eyes once again. “Will you do the same?”
“Yes.”
Her breath hitched as he cupped her breast through the cambric. Her nipple was distended, and her pulse raced so that he could feel the strong beat of her heart where his thumb rested on her chest.
Her eyes closed as he brought her nearer with his free hand at the base of her spine. “I want you naked, your heated skin pressed against me.”
Her mouth parted, her palm slid higher until it reached his bare neck. “Then strip us bare,” she said just as her mouth met his.
She kissed him slowly, her lips pulling gently at his as their breaths mingled and their bodies came together chest to chest.
The soft give of her breasts against him had him fully hardened in but a second. He needed to have her so badly, yet he also wanted to spend the whole night learning every inch of her body.
Grabbing her buttocks in each of his hands, he tilted her enough that her core rubbed against the steel-hard length of his erection as he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. He almost wished he were already inside her, making her delirious with pleasure. But this would be her first time, and he didn’t intend it to end too soon.
She caressed the length of his back, stopping just at the edge of his trousers. He swooped her up into his arms again and strode purposefully toward his bed. He pulled away from their kiss long enough to sit her on the edge of his bed and rid her of her pantalettes and stockings. Her chemise he left on, wanting to watch her take it off as she’d watched him remove his shirt. He released the buttons on his trousers and loosened them from his hips, but stopped from removing them altogether. He never wore underclothes, and he wasn’t sure what Charlotte would make of his jutting erection.
He dropped his hands to his sides, and in a rusty voice thick with ardor said, “Take your chemise off.”
* * *
Charlotte had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to please the marquess. When she’d asked to stay the night, she’d known it would be her ruin. She’d known that she would never be able to go home and be the innocent daughter again. She should care more about her reputation. A woman’s status in society was based on her actions. But when she looked at the marquess, his eyes blazing with desire for her, she could only think about the here and now.
When he asked her to remove the last stitch of clothing she wore, and reveal herself for the first time in her life to a man, she didn’t hesitate. For some reason that surprised her, even though she’d been orchestrating her ruin ever since her father told her he wanted her to marry Mr. Warren.
She pulled the soft cambric over her head and dropped it on the bed next to her. Tristan visibly swallowed, his gaze narrowed on the tight peaks of her rosy nipples where the cool evening air kissed them. The way he looked at her made her feel as though he were already touching her. His hands were fisted over his thighs, still covered with his trousers. Would he remove all his clothes as she had?
“So beautiful,” he said as his gaze dropped to the dark thatch of hair at the vee of her thighs. His raw assessment of her had her face flaming and her heart pounding erratically in her chest. She hadn’t been shy a moment ago, but she certainly felt as though she should cover herself now.
Maybe if he were as bare as she currently was, it would put them on an even footing. “You wanted us to lie together naked, yet you have not shed your trousers,” she pointed out.
Blue eyes met blue eyes and she leaned forward on the edge of the bed to help him remove his clothes since he didn’t seem inclined to do so just yet.
Instead of helping her, though, his knuckles ran down the side of her face, her jaw, and her neck until finally he was caressing the tip of one of her breasts. He stood from the bed so she could help shed his trousers.
She’d never seen a man naked before and wasn’t sure what to expect. She took her time, feeling the strong line of his hips as she slid her fingers beneath the soft material and slowly pushed it down. All the breath left her lungs when his manhood thrust out in front of her in bald proof of his desire. Because surely a man did not normally sport such a thing beneath his clothes; it would be noticeable.
When she hesitated to push his trousers lower than his thighs, he chuckled, stepped back, and shucked them himself. By the light of a few candles around his room, she could see that his body was lean but strong, much like a racehorse with its whipcord muscular lines, the power and strength evident in the way he moved.
She wan
ted to feel all that strength beneath her fingertips. He let her study his form with her eyes. He was perfection, like the Greek statues on display in the museum—only their private parts had been strategically covered when she’d gone to see them with Lady Hargrove. Now she understood why; that part of the man was almost mesmerizing. She’d never desired to touch the statues and busts, but this man standing naked before her was a thing of perfection and surprising beauty. She could barely tear her gaze away from his manhood, but she did manage to stand from his high bed and take a few steps toward him. She didn’t stop till the tips of her breasts brushed against him ever so lightly.
“Do you trust me?” he asked. She looked up at him, her heart racing, her nerves unsteady, and her stomach full of butterflies. His question had been earnest, as though this were the most important answer she would ever give him.
“Completely.”
His fingers lightly skimmed over her lower back, making her shiver with the tickling sensation.
“You understand that we cannot go back from this? That once we have truly joined, you will never have another.”
She nodded. She knew without doubt that she’d never lie with another man after tonight. She would not turn into a lusty wanton like so many young widows seemed to do—well, according to the Mayfair Chronicles at any rate. “I understand.”
He walked her backward until her thighs hit the edge of the bed.
“Sit,” he said. And she did so.
She reached out and ran the flat of her hand over the muscles in his stomach, marveling at how very different their bodies were.
“This will be a night to remember.” The conviction in his voice was a promise she believed with all her heart.
“I want tonight to be special for us both, Tristan.”
“And it will,” he said.
His body was warm, almost hot to the touch, as she learned the dips and lines of his torso.
“Open your legs to me.”
This time she did hesitate for a moment. It would reveal a part of herself he hadn’t seen yet. His finger went under her chin and lifted her face to look up at him.
“Let me see all of you, Charlotte.”
She slowly parted her thighs, feeling exposed, vulnerable.
The marquess leaned over her so that she was forced to go back on her elbows. His body was centered over hers, his manhood lightly brushing the top of her belly. A bead of fluid came from its tip, and had she been more sure of what she was doing she might have reached out and touched it.
Light kisses rained over her face, lips, and neck. His tongue tasted a trail from behind her ear to the middle dip of her throat at the top of her chest. He trailed his mouth lower, around the soft plumpness of one breast and then the other.
Charlotte fell back fully onto the bed, and tried to absorb all the sensations of the marquess naked above her, doing very wicked things with his tongue against her body. She felt hot, needy, her body anxious to be touched all over and crushed against his.
The marquess cupped her other breast in his hand just as he kissed the nipple, capturing it between gentle teeth to blow a hot stream of air on the distended tip before sucking it deep into his mouth. She made a sound then, not quite a moan, not quite a surprised squeak, but something foreign to her own ears.
When he released her, he grabbed her by the waist and hitched her farther up the bed so he could join her. He spread her thighs wider apart with his hands, and stared down at the most private part of her. She lowered her hand to shield herself.
“Don’t,” he said in a gravelly voice. She stopped and stared at him curiously.
He captured her eyes with his, and in the next moment he was touching her so intimately that a startled squeak left her throat and she nearly slammed her thighs closed.
“Hush, I promise to do only what you like.”
He spread her inner folds and touched her softly, as though he’d done this a thousand times and knew how to wring more pleasure out of her than she’d ever experienced in her whole life. Her head fell back on the bed, and her eyes closed, as she trusted him to do exactly as he promised.
His fingers moved faster the more comfortable she seemed and the farther her legs spread for him. The sensations he was drawing from her were inexplicable and eye-opening. Before she wanted him to, he removed his hands and pressed her thighs wider still as he leaned in close to her. His shoulders were between her legs, and his mouth … Oh, good Lord, his mouth was doing such naughty, naughty things to her body that she felt her skin flush three shades of red. But she was helpless to push him away when the pleasure was so intense that the only thing she wanted was more.
“Tristan,” she moaned, throwing her head back and reaching down to tangle her hands through his hair. She wasn’t sure if she should push him away or pull him in tighter to her body. His shoulders were a firm weight keeping her legs pressed wide.
She felt light-headed from the pleasure he was wringing from her and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her brow as the sensations escalated and her body tightened, her thighs squeezed around his head to hold him nearer yet. He didn’t seem to mind, for he sucked at her with a fervor that astonished her. Later she might be embarrassed by her unabashed display.
“Tristan.” She was nearly shouting his name now, and the sounds that came from her throat would surely add to her embarrassment later. But right now, the only thing she could think of was how his tongue licked between the folds of her private area, giving her the greatest pleasure she’d ever felt.
As her moans grew louder, he reached one hand up and put the side of his hand in her mouth. She bit down lightly on him, knowing he wanted to muffle her screams of pleasure, as the feeling in her belly grew stronger and stronger. She swore her body was floating from all the sensations bombarding her. She was on fire and Tristan coaxed the flames higher and higher, until she was sure she touched the clouds. She hit an apex so pleasurable she never thought she’d come down again.
She was panting when it was over, and the marquess slowly came over her body, his manhood a firm reminder that their evening was far from finished. He was kissing her face, her neck, squeezing her breasts, and drawing more moans from her. And though her legs spread wide around his hips and she knew instinctively that he would soon put himself inside her as he had done with his tongue, he did no more than kiss and caress her, letting her slowly glide back into her surroundings.
Feeling more like herself now that the intense pleasure had ebbed to a deep unfulfilled throb in her body, she massaged his shoulders and back in their intimate embrace.
“Are you ready to feel that again?” he asked.
When she tried to speak her throat was so dry that she coughed instead and nodded her agreement. He chuckled again and was suddenly up from the bed and going to the next room. He lit another candle, illuminating the room. It looked to be his dressing room. A ewer and washstand rested inside the door. He procured a tin mug and poured some water into it and brought it back to the bed. Charlotte sat up as he approached.
She pointedly stared at his manhood. “Why did you stop?”
“On your account. Drink up. We are about to engage in more.”
She drank nearly half the contents of the mug and handed it back to him. He took a sip from the same mug before placing it on a stand next to the bed. When he turned back to her, she could see the hunger in his eyes had not ebbed.
He clasped his hands around her ankles, and pulled till she was laid full out on the bed. He was on his hands and knees, and pressed light kisses on her body and teasingly tasted her mouth with his tongue.
“I will love you so thoroughly tonight that you’ll never be able to get me out of your head.”
“I think you have already done so.”
“I’ve hardly begun.”
His arm hooked under her thigh and pressed her knee up; the position had her legs spread wide open. She felt the wetness at her core press against his abdomen and swallowed back her nervousness.
&
nbsp; “You make me feel so out of my element…” she whispered.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She cupped his head in her hands and looked him in the eye. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“No thanks required, my lady, I’ve wanted you from the moment you stole into my house that first time.”
“We barely knew each other then.”
“You aren’t nearly distracted enough if you can think rationally right now.”
“Then what does that say about your abilities as a great seducer?”
“I am questioning my capabilities, actually.” He pressed his mouth to hers and any thoughts she had vanished as she felt a new spark of arousal.
The ridge of his manhood slicked through her feminine juices, rubbing that part of her that was already sensitive from his earlier ministrations. She felt lost in his touch again, wanting more, but not really knowing what that entailed. He continued to kiss her, sucking her tongue into his mouth when she retreated, and then lowering himself so he could flick his tongue gently over the tip of her breast.
His fingers touched her core again. Her thighs were slick, her center throbbing for more of what he’d already given her. She would never get enough of that sensation. She would be a happily ruined woman.
When his hand moved away from her center, she felt a completely new sensation, that of his manhood pressing against her. He didn’t enter, but hovered above her as he grabbed each of her wrists in his hands and held them at the sides of her head. His head lowered to take the tip of her breast in the hot cavern of his mouth and to lick a trail of kisses across her sternum, then gave her other breast the same attention. Her body ached in a way she didn’t know how to relieve, but Tristan seemed to understand her mounting desire, for he pressed himself forward, lodging the head of his manhood within her then going no farther.
Her breath caught in her lungs and she looked at him with her mouth parted and her body ready for more.
He pulled out and thrust a little farther the second time. Her hands were immobile and she wanted to hold him, feel the crush of his body atop hers as he claimed her, but she did not ask it of him. His hair fell forward. She wanted to push it back and feel the rub of his facial hair against her sensitive, overheated skin.
Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord Page 17