She turned to look at him. His face was smiling, but his eyes were serious, watching her with fascinated intensity. It made her tingle all over, being stared at in such a way, and she realized the emotions came not only from him, but from deep inside her.
Juliet sighed, knowing in that moment that she had irrevocably lost her heart to him. I love him.
It had been coming on for a while now, she decided. Starting with his gallant defense of her against her odious brother-in-law, continuing on their wedding night when they shared such sensual bliss. She was well aware that physical intimacy could be an illusion of closeness, but her admiration for him had blossomed and grown through their lengthy correspondence.
Yet it was not until they were once again together that her feelings came fully to fruition.
Oh, yes, she loved him.
The realization made her happy, hopeful. A marriage that included love was far more preferable than one of convenience. And as she stood in the cold, encircled in Richard’s arms, her lips moist from their kiss, her heart brimming with love, it felt as though her dreams that he one day would return that love were so close she could almost reach out and grab them.
“‘The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown,’” James sang suddenly.
“‘Of all the trees that are in the wood,’” Edward piped up.
With a laugh, most of the others joined in the next verse. Soon they were all singing merrily, mostly off-key. The carols continued until they reached the house. Swept up in the spirit of the songs, Juliet pressed her head closer to Richard’s and sang loudly. He smiled, but did not join in; yet as they reached the manor she distinctly heard him humming along.
Humming, not singing.
Juliet smiled. It was a start.
By late afternoon Juliet had come to completely appreciate the old adage that too many cooks spoil the broth. It seemed that everyone had a strong opinion about how the rooms should be decorated, where the greenery should be placed, and what color ribbons should be used.
Uncle Horace complained that his fingers were being pinched unmercifully as he spread holly along the top of the many fireplace mantels, and Cousin Andrew nearly fell off the ladder while reaching up to balance a pine bough along the top of a picture frame.
Richard retreated to his study, and for once, Juliet could not blame him for needing an escape. As her two maiden aunts almost came to blows while arguing if the bells on the kissing boughs should be silver or gold, Juliet wished she could join him.
Thankfully, good moods were restored by supper time, though Juliet could not help noticing that her two aunts sat on opposite sides of the drawing room when the women left the dining room to allow the gentlemen to enjoy their port and cigars.
The men did not linger long, but soon rejoined the ladies. Weary from the unaccustomed outdoor activity and excitement, it was a contemplative, silent group. Even Lord George was quiet for once, though Juliet noted his eyes strayed often to Miss Hardie. The secretary pretended not to notice.
“Time for bed, I think,” Uncle Horace announced suddenly. “I have a feeling you’ll have a list of tasks a mile long for us tomorrow, dear Juliet, and I need my rest if I am to keep up with the younger members of our party.”
“It’s no use trying to make her feel guilty, Uncle Horace,” Cousin Andrew insisted with a cheeky grin. “You know Juliet delights in seeing her relatives hard at work.”
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without some effort, young man,” Aunt Mildred scolded. “Everything doesn’t just magically appear on Christmas Day, organized and prepared.” Then turning to Juliet, she asked, “What will we be doing tomorrow?”
“Cook will need help decorating the gingerbread cookies,” Juliet said with a twinkle in her eye. “But if that is too taxing for some of you, I know she will understand. Perhaps the children will be able to help instead.”
“Ha! They’ll eat far more than they will decorate, that’s for certain,” Uncle Horace scoffed.
Juliet raised a brow. “And you won’t?”
The sound of giggles filled the room. Uncle Horace feigned indignity for a moment before joining the laughter, then amid pleasant good nights, they dispersed for the night.
“Will everyone now go to sleep dreaming of gingerbread cookies?” Richard asked her as they climbed the stairs side by side.
“Probably. Cook’s gingerbread is legendary,” Juliet replied. “Just wait until you taste it.”
“I have another treat in mind.”
Juliet’s breath caught. She felt his warm breath on her hair as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. She squirmed, trying to get closer to him. “What sort of treat?”
“Let me into your bed tonight and I’ll show you,” he said, his voice tight and urgent.
All manner of sensual images invaded her mind. The delectable sight of Richard’s broad shoulders, muscular chest, and lean belly bathed in candlelight. The hot, masculine scent of his skin, the intoxicating sound of his deep groan when she stroked his body, the shivering excitement of feeling his breath bellowing against her temple.
The way his lips met hers in a whispered kiss. The feel of his strong hands on her bare skin, the feathery touch making every nerve flare with desire. The heavenly torture, the restless urgency that filled her as he kissed her lips, caressed her breasts, teased her nipples.
The pleasing weight of him on top of her, the fullness that seemed to touch her very soul as he thrust inside her welcoming warmth.
Juliet closed her eyes for a second. “The condoms . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“I’ll leave them in my chamber.” His lips traveled down her neck, making her pulse race, her blood heat. “There are other ways to bring each other pleasure.”
More erotic images appeared—passionate, fiery, all-consuming. Juliet blushed furiously. “I . . . uhm . . . yes.”
Richard smiled with obvious relief. Had he really thought she would refuse him? They walked quickly to her bedchamber. She dismissed her maid the moment they entered her room, hardly caring when she caught a glimpse of the servant’s knowing smirk.
Juliet walked to her dressing table. With trembling hands she began removing the pins from her hair. Behind her she could hear Richard’s rustling movements. She glanced in the mirror and saw him tug at his cravat, then shrug out of his coat and waistcoat, tossing the garments on the carpet. His shirt, trousers, and smallclothes followed next.
Oh my, he was in a hurry.
“Let me help you,” he said as he came to stand behind her.
His fingers nimbly undid the buttons down the back of her gown. In short order he removed her dress, stockings, and undergarments. Her eyes helplessly followed his movements. Soon no cloth separated them as they both stood naked.
Juliet twisted her head to gaze at him. Reaching out, he cradled her face between his hands. His eyes were smoldering. Swallowing self-consciously, she held tightly to his arm.
These moments were something that needed to be cherished. Once the holidays were over, Richard would return to London, perhaps for several months. The thought distressed her, but Juliet pushed it aside. He was here tonight and he wanted her, nearly as much as she desired him.
And if things between them improved, who knows what might happen? Maybe he would stay longer, or better still, not leave at all.
Turning, she pressed her naked breasts against his bared chest. The delicious warmth felt so marvelous. Sighing, Juliet wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, running her hands up and down his back.
She was about to suggest they go to her bed when Richard bent and slid one arm beneath her knees. Straightening, he lifted her in his arms and carried her across the chamber. She could not see his face in the darkness, but caught the gleam of his teeth. It was good to know he was smiling.
He laid her atop the silk coverlet, lit the candle on her night table, and then stretched out beside her. She felt a burst of joy at the way he looked at her with such blatant de
light. No matter what happened between them, she could never doubt his passion and desire for her.
Richard brushed a kiss on her cheek, then moved lower, onto her shoulder. While he kissed her, his hands roamed over her heated flesh. He touched her everywhere, as though he couldn’t get enough of her. Not just with his fingers, but with his lips and teeth and tongue. Before long she was writhing on the bed and then she could feel his hands on her inner thighs, pressing her legs apart.
He trailed a line of wet kisses over her belly. Her thigh muscles quivered as he went lower. She had an inkling of what he wanted to do. Modestly, she resisted, feeling awkward and exposed. “Richard, please, I’m not sure . . .”
“Shh, it’s all right, Juliet. Just let me.”
He moved his fingers along the inside of her thigh, brushing against the curls between her legs. Slowly her resistance faded and she allowed herself to relax, to surrender herself completely to him.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited breathlessly. His hands went to her hips, holding her down. Juliet whimpered as a smoldering fire of anticipation began to burn. He began to lick her softly on her inner thigh, then paused and blew a gentle breath, leaving delicate thrills of sensation.
He continued with this torture, a lazy, unhurried exploration of her body. With each kiss, he drew closer and closer to the center of her womanhood. Juliet could feel her body coming alive. She sighed and squirmed, arching against him, eager for his touch, desperate for the release his sensual lips promised.
“Richard, please,” she panted, quivering in anticipation.
“Whatever you want, my dearest,” he murmured.
Deliberately grazing her tender flesh with the stubble of his jaw, Richard moved his head and slid the tip of his tongue into her heated folds.
She nearly lost her mind. Juliet laced her fingers in his hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him close. Then his tongue circled the tiny bud and she screamed with unrestrained lust, arching forward for more. A wave of pleasure rippled through her body as Juliet surrendered completely to the moment.
She was moist and swollen, teetering on the edge of fulfillment. Flicking his tongue up and down and in and out, he licked her harder, letting her feel the full stroke of his tongue.
Whimpering, writhing, Juliet moved her hips against his mouth, needing just a touch more pressure. There. And there. Seeming to understand her frustration, Richard slid his hands underneath her bottom and pulled her closer, feasting on her quivering flesh.
It broke her. She sobbed out his name as the spasms took her, her thighs quivering in passion and abandon as her climax overtook her entire being. He stayed with her until the final tremor, his kisses gradually becoming softer, gentler.
Sated, Juliet lay boneless on the mattress, exhausted and pleasured. Eventually her heavy, unsteady breathing grew quiet. Rousing herself from her contentment, Juliet turned to Richard. His eyes were bright, the delight reflected in them obvious. “Feel satisfied?”
Juliet felt herself blush. Her wanton abandon was hardly the behavior of a lady. Letting out a soft sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a voluptuous kiss. He returned it with eager enthusiasm, and she could feel the evidence of his desire thrusting hard against the softness of her belly.
Smiling, Juliet trailed her hand down Richard’s side, tracing his waist with her fingertips, teasingly brushing his ridged stomach with her palm. He moaned and shifted so she could reach lower, guiding her hand eagerly to his erection.
Wrapping her hand around its full length, she gave it an experimental squeeze.
“Damn, Juliet!” His body jerked off the mattress.
“Shh, Richard. It’s all right. Just let me.”
Juliet laughed as she repeated the words he had spoken to her moments before. She reached for him again, sighing when she found what she sought. Closing her eyes, she held his penis, stroking its smoothness, enjoying utterly the weight and feel of it in her hands.
She caressed him with her thumb and forefinger, lingering over each sensitive spot when he moaned. Covering his muscular chest with breathy, fluttering kisses, she blazed a path from his throat to his navel. His penis grew even larger, a drop of moisture appearing at the tip.
Licking her lips, Juliet moved to take him in her mouth and bring him to completion, but she soon learned that he had something else in mind.
“Like this,” he whispered.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he pressed her back against the bed. She blinked in confusion, but then he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat and her mind whirled. She struggled not to close her eyes. She wanted to watch him, to see everything he felt reflected in his startling blue eyes.
Straddling her waist, Richard adjusted his position until he sat on her upper stomach. He nudged his erection toward her breasts and suddenly she knew what he intended.
“This, my darling. Is it this what you crave?” she asked in a husky voice, the excitement of the act reawakening her own desire.
Reaching up, Juliet cupped her breasts and pressed them together, the round flesh creating a most inviting crease. They stared into one another’s eyes, both breathing hard. Her nipples pebbled, growing tight with anticipation. His hands roamed possessively over them and soon her moans were mingling with his.
A fine sheen of perspiration had broken out on his brow, and she could see him struggling to maintain control. Juliet watched out of dazed eyes as he thrust forward. She couldn’t believe how sensual it felt. His body, taut and hard, pressing itself frantically into the softness of her breasts, his eyes clouded with passion.
She could feel his need, hot and urgent, as he thrust harder, faster. His ballocks slapped at her ribs, creating a wildly erotic and stimulating feeling deep inside her. Juliet could hear the sounds of her own rapid pants mingling with his as he soared closer to release.
The tension built and climbed and then suddenly Richard gave a hoarse shout and started shuddering. Juliet cried out, too, as she felt the hot liquid surge of his climax spurt over her flesh. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, wanting to tell him she loved him, but she bit back the words, fearing he would not welcome them.
He rested on top of her for a few moments, their ragged breaths the only sound in the room. Then he eased away and rolled onto his back. Her body felt cool, lonely. Juliet turned to embrace him, but Richard had already risen from the bed.
He walked to the far side of the room, and she could hear him cleaning himself at the washbasin. When he was done, he returned to the bed. Producing a warm, wet cloth, Richard gently wiped his essence from her body, pressing slow kisses on her shoulders and neck as he worked.
With a flick of the wrist, he tossed the cloth across the room. It landed with a loud plop inside the basin.
“Have I mentioned that I find you an extraordinary and exciting female?” he said, stretching out beside her.
“No, you have not.” Juliet stared up at the ceiling. “But you have done far better than say it. You have shown it.”
He rolled to his side, facing her. “I adore how I cannot shock you. At least not yet. I imagine I shall have to try harder in the future.”
Her heart stumbled inside her chest, and she continued to gaze at the ceiling. “My eagerness in bed does not offend you?”
“Not in the least.”
She looked over at him and then slowly closed her eyes. “Truly?”
“Juliet, your passion humbles me. I find it nothing short of amazing that you do not feel self-conscious over your desire, and I fervently hope that will continue. Truthfully, my fondest wish is that you continue to grow ever bolder and more inventive.”
His fondest wish? Gracious! She knew on some level she should be offended by such a statement, but she appreciated his honesty. “I want our relationship to be more than sex,” she blurted out.
“So do I.” His voice was barely a whisper.
Emotion thickened her throat. She did not doubt his sincerity. But his word
s did not bring her the sense of peace she craved. It was all well and good to want something, but achieving it was another matter entirely.
Chapter 12
An hour after the intense relief of his climax had faded, Richard lay beside Juliet in her bed, watching her openly as she slept. Her hands rested near her face, her fingers curled into loose fists. The covers were bunched around her waist, and he could distinctly see the soft curves of her body beneath the nightgown she now wore.
His body stirred. Biting back a groan, Richard forced his gaze to the ceiling. He remembered the taste of her creamy skin on his tongue, the delicate weight of her breasts in his hands, the enticing sound of her breath hitched in pleasure when her desire peaked.
He had been sexually satisfied tonight, but he wanted more. The realization made him feel unaccountably vulnerable. He had planned this marriage to be like a business partnership, but it was fast becoming obvious that this was far from an unemotional arrangement.
On both sides.
Richard could see that as much as she relished these encounters, it wasn’t just sex for Juliet. It was more than the mechanics of physical enjoyment; there was emotional commitment, a depth to her participation that hinted at her feelings.
Did she love him? The very idea gave him a selfish moment of joy. For was that not what every man craved—the love and devotion of his wife?
Yet what of his love, his emotions? Richard grimaced. He admitted that he had feelings for her. Love? No, he didn’t think that defined what he felt, and it bothered him. He honestly didn’t want to hurt her. Just the opposite, really.
He wanted to care for her, protect her, make her happy. The only way he knew how to do that was by continuing to make money, to be a successful and important businessman. Such tasks required nearly all of his focus and attention; he could not be distracted by sentiment or emotion. Yet sentiment and emotions were what Juliet craved.
Tis the Season to Be Sinful Page 17