“I’m not sure what to do,” she said.
He smiled and raised her hands to his mouth. “I think I can help you with that.”
He brought his mouth to hers again and kissed her softly, lowering her onto the bed again and shifting his body to the side so he wouldn’t crush her. He pulled back slightly to look down at her again. He hesitated a moment, almost asking for permission to touch her. Something about Isabel made him feel that he had to be cautious, to take extra care with her.
Her brow furled. “I don’t think we can proceed if you’re wearing your trousers.”
He almost laughed aloud. “I was trying not to frighten you, but I see that I needn’t have worried.”
This time when he kissed her, he allowed himself to touch her breasts. She made a small sound at the back of her throat that told him she liked what he was doing. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he brought one hand down to her hip, then her thigh. When he moved to touch the inside of her thigh, stroking the skin above her stockings, she stiffened a little but didn’t stop him. Instead, she shifted her legs wider, allowing him greater access to that part of her no man had ever touched.
He almost groaned when he found she was already wet with desire. Desire for him. Somehow he held back, vowing to bring her pleasure first. He stroked her gently, the slight shifting of her hips as she sought more of his touch telling him that she enjoyed what he was doing. He used his thumb to caress her where her pleasure centered and inserted one finger inside her. He groaned when he felt her tightness, imagining how she would feel wrapped around his cock.
Isabel pulled her mouth away from his and her breath shuddered. “Robert,” she said on a soft moan. “I never imagined this would feel so good.”
He didn’t reply… he couldn’t. He could only watch her as her breathing became louder. She closed her eyes, and he ordered her to open them again so he could watch her in the throes of passion. When she obeyed, her eyes had darkened and were almost black.
She moaned his name again, the sound drawn out as she peaked, and damn if she didn’t almost take him with her.
He stood then and removed his trousers before returning to the bed and settling over her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve your trust, but I hope I never lose it.”
Her brows drew together as she tried to understand the meaning behind his words, but he couldn’t stop now.
“I’m afraid this might hurt,” he said, looking for signs of fear in her eyes. There were none.
“I want this more than I could ever have thought possible.” Her voice was ragged, her breathing uneven, but he could see the truth of her words in her eyes.
He moved slowly then, entering her with more patience than he’d thought himself capable. When she flinched at his intrusion, he stopped. They lay like that far longer than he would have liked, him frozen on top of her, the head of his cock the only part of him inside her.
“Isabel,” he said finally, his voice hoarse from his struggle to restrain himself. “I need to move.”
She replied by shifting her hips upwards, and with a groan he buried himself the rest of the way inside her warm wet, heat.
He’d planned to give her time to adjust to the size of him, but when he looked down and saw that her desire had rekindled, he was powerless. He moved slowly at first, stopping when she cried out.
“Isabel…”
“Don’t stop,” she said, lowering her hands to cup his backside.
He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. He stroked into her faster then, knowing that since this was Isabel’s first time he should be showing more restraint but unable to hold back. When she spasmed around him unexpectedly, he felt his own release mere moments away. He had to pull out of her, but instead, finding himself needing this woman more than he had ever needed anyone, he buried himself fully one last time and spent inside her.
Several seconds passed before he realized he was resting fully atop her. He shifted his weight so most of it rested on his forearms but didn’t move away. Instead, he stared down at the vixen who had ensnared him so completely and realized that he hadn’t ruined her after all—it was she who had ruined him.
He rolled off her then, struck by the enormity of the revelation.
He shouldn’t want her this much. After all, he barely knew her. Could you truly know someone in such a short amount of time? He turned his head to look at her, searching her face for any signs of regret. When he saw none, he reached for her again and turned her to him. She came willingly, resting her head on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest.
Isabel Durham had ruined his desire for the life he’d been determined to lead, a life devoid of romantic entanglements, and ruined him for any other woman. He was well and truly ensnared and not just because he’d spent inside her. He hadn’t been that far gone that he couldn’t have pulled out to ensure he wouldn’t sire a bastard on her. He hadn’t done so because something inside him had wanted to mark her as his, to force him to make the correct decision for his, no, for their future.
Much to his surprise, he found that he didn’t regret the decision.
They lay like that for several minutes before he realized that Isabel was shivering.
“You’re cold,” he said, moving her away from him and standing. He went to the trunk at the foot of his bed, thankful that the blanket normally stored there when he’d been in residence was still within. When he straightened, Isabel had raised herself to a sitting position, her legs drawn up to her chest as she watched him with interest. He raised a brow and she blushed again before looking away from him.
He studied her, trying to memorize her just like this so he could draw her later.
He joined her on the bed again and spread the blanket over them as he settled beneath it, drawing her down next to him. They lay on their sides, facing one another.
“You should know that I considered allowing you to stay in this house and making it your home. But I realized I couldn’t do that. I won’t be like my father.”
Was that disappointment he saw on her face? She swallowed and lowered her eyes before replying. “I never expected you to do that.”
He used a finger to lift her face so she couldn’t hide what she was feeling from him.
“It occurs to me that despite what just happened between us, there is nothing to stop your cousin from trying to force you to marry someone else. I can assure you many men wouldn’t care about the state of your maidenhead.”
She frowned at his words. “I know. This… what we’ve done here today won’t stop him, but it will delay him. It just might give me the time I need to find another position and save more money so I can move somewhere he’ll never find me.”
“So you plan to disappear?”
There was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes as she nodded. “I have no choice.”
He smiled as he stroked his thumb over her lips and along the arch of her cheekbone.
“You could marry me.”
Her breath hitched. She searched his face and he knew exactly what she was thinking. She feared he was acting out of a sense of nobility.
“It was never my intention to trap you into offering for me.”
He surged up and shifted his torso so he was leaning over her. She fell onto her back, her chin tilted upward in mutiny.
“You’re not the first woman I’ve bedded. You’re not even the first virgin. You will, however, be the last.”
Her eyes remained locked on his. “Nevertheless, I don’t want to marry you because you feel a sense of obligation. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Damn her stubbornness, she was actually going to make him say the words he’d thought would never pass his lips.
“And if what I feel is love?”
She sucked in her breath, a look of wonder spreading across her face. “Truly?”
He smiled down at her and nodded. “I’m not titled, nor am I wealthy. And I plan to sell this house as
soon as possible and donate the proceeds to several worthy causes. But I’ve discovered that I now have enough money to set us up in a nice little cottage somewhere outside of London.”
Her eyes lit with devilment. “So, if it’s not too impertinent a question, you’re not planning to return to service?”
“No,” he said, tweaking her nose. “I’m done running away.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, too. Your mother spoke of you so often, I’d come to think of you as the perfect man. I’d expected to find myself disappointed when I met you, but I wasn’t. Well, not after the initial shock had worn off when you propositioned me at our first meeting.”
“Thank goodness for misunderstandings… and thank you for having the courage to proposition me right back.”
He kissed her then, but this time there was no urgency behind it. Now they had all the time in the world.
A Year Without a Duke
Jilted in January by Kate Pearce
Forbidden in February by Suzanna Medeiros
Seduced in September by Genevieve Turner
An Affair in Autumn by Jennifer Haymore
A Duke by December by Sabrina Darby
Keep reading for a sneak peak of Seduced in September by Genevieve Turner
Seduced in September
by
Genevieve Turner
Adele Vere is the model of a perfect English governess: docile, good-tempered, and well principled. She’s worked her entire life to keep others from knowing the truth—it’s all a façade. If her origins were discovered, she’d fall too far to ever recover.
No one is more dangerous to her than Edward Coyne, the roguish stable master tasked with her riding lessons. His knowing gaze and bold touches make her suspect that he sees through her lies. When Mr. Coyne surprises her with an audacious offer, she must choose: remain safely behind the walls she’s erected… or dare the fall she so fears in her reach for love.
Excerpt from Seduced in September:
Adele Vere had been haunted by his hands from the very beginning.
Broad palms, long, blunt-tipped fingers, the nail on his left ring finger slightly misshapen—after the first time she’d seen them, she could have drawn Edward Coyne’s hands from memory. Not that she’d ever put such a vulgar thing to paper to provide evidence of her lustful thoughts for anyone to discover.
If only he hadn’t put those hands on her… She might have resisted their pull on her mind, her memories, if he’d never touched her.
But he had. All those many months ago, during her first riding lesson.
The old duke had decreed that the governess must learn to ride—why, he did not say—so she’d found herself standing on a mounting block, too afraid to move forward and clamber onto the wide back of the horse. And too terrified of the duke’s displeasure to flee back to the house.
Mr. Coyne had simply folded his arms and stared at her with those devastatingly blue eyes. He hadn’t touched her yet, but the simple fact that he was to be her instructor was enough to surprise her. He was the stable master—surely he was too busy to see to an utter novice’s education. He was also supposed to be at the duke’s training stables near Newcastle. But there he was, holding the reins of a horse as wide as it was tall.
She mistrusted his gaze, warm and sharp as it was.
Taking a deep breath, she’d run her hands down the front of her riding habit, trying to summon her courage. It was one of the duchess’s old habits. Adele had spent three hours the night before painstakingly picking out the embroidery and removing the lace at the neck and cuffs. There was no sense putting a peahen like herself into the plumes of a peacock.
Mr. Coyne had released a sharp breath of exasperation at her hesitation, and before she could hop off the mounting block, he’d set those hands at her waist—so large they’d curled just under her breasts—and plopped her right onto the horse.
She’d grabbed for the pommel and sat rigid as a statue, her mouth open.
He’d touched her. As bold as brass too. The imprint of his hands had lingered, twin brands of his, lying just below her breasts. She could hardly draw breath past those marks.
“You’re meant to pick up the reins,” he’d drawled. Somehow his accent had allowed him to slip more insolence into the words than should have been possible. Insolence that had raised sparks all along her skin under her remade riding costume.
And thus began Adele’s torture. Months of it.
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the encouragement of the other authors in this series—Kate Pearce, Genevieve Turner, Jennifer Haymore, and Sabrina Darby. Thank you!
About the Author
Suzanna Medeiros was born and raised in Toronto, Canada. Her love for the written word led her to pursue a degree in English Literature from the University of Toronto. She went on to earn a Bachelor of Education degree, but graduated at a time when no teaching jobs were available. After working at a number of interesting places, including a federal inquiry, a youth probation office, and the Office of the Fire Marshal of Ontario, she decided to pursue her first love—writing.
Suzanna is married to her own hero and is the proud mother of twin daughters. She is an avowed romantic who enjoys spending her days writing love stories.
She would like to thank her parents for showing her that love at first sight and happily ever after really do exist.
To learn more about Suzanna, visit her at http://www.suzannamedeiros.com or http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSuzannaMedeiros. To be informed when Suzanna’s has a new release, sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/nmliD.
Also by Suzanna Medeiros
Dear Stranger
Forbidden in February (A Year Without a Duke)
Landing a Lord series
Dancing with the Duke
Loving the Marquess
Beguiling the Earl
The Unaffected Earl — Coming Soon
Hathaway Heirs
Lady Hathaway’s Indecent Proposal
Lord Hathaway’s New Bride — Coming Soon
The Captain’s Heart — Coming Soon
Forbidden in February Page 7