“Please.” She wiggled beneath him.
His strength ebbed away, but he had to hear her say the words. “Do you want me, Amelia?”
She groaned. “Yes.”
“Tell me.”
She focused on him, her eyes wracked with passion. “I want you, Julian.”
That was all he needed to hear. He moved his hips forward and gradually sank in. He didn’t expect her to be so tight. If she hadn’t been so wet, he was certain he would have hurt her. Questions piled up in his mind, but they were soon pushed back as his body grew greedy for more pleasure.
Moving back and forth, sinking a bit further with each thrust, Julian could not recall anything ever feeling so good. Then she moved with him, increasing his pleasure, driving him insane with the need for fulfillment.
Plundering her mouth with his tongue, his hips making long, smooth strokes, Julian used every ounce of his willpower to hold back his release. Amelia first. As he inched his hand down between their bodies, sweat broke out on his forehead. He found the small, slick bud nestled between her curls and stroked it.
She gasped, her fingers biting into his shoulders, and went completely still. Her inner muscles squeezed his shaft and he knew the end of his restraint. With a massive groan, he gave one last thrust and spewed his seed deep into her, marveling at how long his release lasted. And how completely satisfying it was.
But he would do much, much more to his wife before the night was over. Yes, indeed. He intended to release his passion as never before so that never again would she resist him. That was important. He wanted Amelia to want him. Always.
As his heart slowed, Julian reached for Amelia, his lips settling down over hers. This time, he intended to go slow. Very slow. And find dozens of ways to pleasure her.
When the nerves in his body stopped twitching several hours later, Julian rolled to the side of the bed. His body so sated, he thought he would float on a cloud. With a sigh, he turned his head to gauge Amelia’s reaction, and found her eyes drooping. They closed and her breathing grew deep and even.
Tenderness welled up within him, warming his heart. Julian reached over and moved a lock of hair from her face. His finger lingered on her soft, warm skin for several seconds. “What am I to do with you, Pixie?” he whispered. The moment he’d given her the pet name filled his mind, making him frown. It had been the very night Jeremy had placed that damned wager all those years ago.
For months afterward, he had set out to seduce Amelia. And when she returned to the country with Diana, he thought he’d failed for the first time ever. Oh, how Jeremy had gloated. Then, bored with the London roués, he received an invitation to a special party. One of Diana’s special parties. And that’s when it had happened. That’s when Amelia had come to him in the middle of the night. He’d been caught off guard, but very pleased. As he carried a slumbering Amelia to her bedchamber afterward, he’d been delighted when Jeremy caught them in the hallway. His friend had not been at all happy to have lost another bet.
Hearing the clock ring the four o’clock hour, Julian pushed aside those memories and rose from the bed, careful not to rouse Amelia. He slipped into his discarded robe then leaned down and grazed her cool brow with his lips. “Rest well, Pixie,” he whispered before turning toward the door and leaving the room. Although he wanted nothing more than to stay, something told him Amelia would want him gone when she woke. He knew they would probably quarrel, but he was fully prepared to repeat his very pleasurable form of persuasion.
Actually, he was quite looking forward to more such nights.
****
Amelia woke to two thick slabs of sunlight streaming in through the windows. She watched the dust motes dance gaily in the blinding yellow light for several seconds before memory seized her.
With a strangled gasp, she sat up, looking wildly around the room, the memory of what had happened the night before confirmed by the throbbing soreness between her legs. She dragged in a weary breath and found Julian’s musky scent still lingering in the air. Stifling a groan, she turned, expecting to see his smug face grinning in triumph at her. Instead, she found him gone.
Shoving the hair from her face with a trembling hand, Amelia didn’t know whether to be relieved or exasperated. What she felt deep down, however, was a twinge of disappointment. Disappointment that he hadn’t stayed. And it angered her. Damn it, she couldn’t let it happen again. She couldn’t let Julian hurt her a second time.
It nearly destroyed her.
The door opened, drawing Amelia’s attention. She held the bedding more securely against her chest. A young maid with carrot-red hair entered, grinning like a fool. “Good mornin’, milady.” She lowered the tray she held to the table beside the bed. Her tilted green eyes twinkled with good humor. “His lordship says you need your nourishment.”
Amelia squinted up to the maid. “Nourishment?”
The maid nodded eagerly, then left promising to have some heated water sent up for her bath.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Amelia sighed. A most delicious aroma met her nose and she glanced at the tray. Removing the domed lid, her mouth watered at the scrumptious-looking fare. Beside the silver pot of chocolate sat a heaping plate of buttered eggs, toast and thin slices of ham. And a single red rose lay beside the plate.
With a smile, she lifted the rose to her nose and inhaled the sweet scent. Her fanciful side imagined Julian clipping the flower from the bush himself, then she shook her head. A marquess, to be sure, would not do such a thing.
Her stomach growled. She turned back to the tray and managed to polish off the entire plate of food and most of the chocolate.
“Well done, my lady,” Ruth praised, entering the room with a large bucket of steaming water. Several maids followed, carrying similar buckets and disappeared into the dressing room. Still wrapped in the blanket, Amelia rose from the bed and followed after them.
She found the maids pouring the heated water into a huge marble tub permanently installed in the room.
“There now,” Ruth said after the last bucket had been emptied. She walked up to Amelia. “Shall I assist you with your bath, ladyship?”
Amelia took a quick step back. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
Ruth just smiled. “Then I’ll go and unpack your new gowns.”
“New gowns?”
The maid turned, her eyes wide. “Oh, I had no idea it was a surprise.” She shook her head. “Please, my lady, do forgive me for speaking out of turn.”
Amelia smiled. “It’s all right, Ruth.”
“I’ll go and unpack.”
Watching the maid leave, Amelia didn’t have the heart to tell her not to bother. Instead, she slid the blanket from her shoulders and sank down into the scented hot water. Ah, what bliss.
As she lay there with her head resting against the back of the tub feeling the warmth seeping deep into her skin, Amelia tried desperately not to think of her cursed husband. But no matter how hard she tried, Julian’s image kept forming behind her closed eyelids. She remembered last night and a bolt of fiery sensation shot up from her womb directly to her breasts and back. Her body tingled as she recalled the feel of his slightly rough hands against her skin. The tips of her breasts tightened when she thought of how his hot wet tongue had grazed them. The place between her legs pulsated and ached with the memory of him inching into her.
Amelia jerked upright, a small cry escaping her lips. No, no, no! She could not allow this to continue; she could not allow Julian this sort of hold over her. To do so would be disastrous. She would be vulnerable to him.
And once vulnerable to Julian, Amelia knew he would tear her heart to shreds. Just like before.
“No,” Amelia whispered, “I will not let that happen again.”
****
Julian sat staring at the same ledger page for over an hour before he realized he hadn’t so much as read one bloody word. Instead of focusing on estate matters, his mind continued to be filled with thoughts of Amelia and me
mories of last night.
The bloody wench. Did she have to be so damn irresistible?
Shaking his head, Julian wondered why she captivated him so. He’d certainly had his fair share of more beautiful women, though he hadn’t given any of them another thought after a good romp or two.
Julian glanced up from the ledger. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps all he needed to do was have a few good romps with Amelia and she would be out of his system. And then the bloody wench wouldn’t fill his thoughts so completely, nor keep his body in such a constant state of arousal.
He grazed his thumb over his sore finger and looked down. The little puncture caused from a rather large thorn on the rose stem he’d picked earlier throbbed something awful. He sighed, bringing the wounded finger to his mouth. Would Amelia guess that the rose on her tray had come from him? He bloody well hoped so.
The unexpected knock jarred Julian from planning Amelia’s next seduction. He gave the polished mahogany a good frown before granting permission to enter.
His frown vanished as soon as his wife opened the door. Rising from his chair, Julian noticed her outfitted in one of the twelve new gowns he’d ordered from Madame Deveraux. He’d sent a note to the couturière while still in London with instructions to use Megan’s measurements, certain they were nearly identical in stature. He’d been accurate, he decided, seeing how well Amelia filled the silky peach dress. “Please, do come in.”
She hesitated, and Julian noted the wariness in her eyes. Then she sighed, set her shoulders, and entered the room.
Julian had to grit his teeth as she neared. Her glossy hair had been braided at the sides and pulled back, the rest falling down her back in waves of brown velvet. A slight scent of vanilla reached him and his loins twitched. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Would you have a seat?”
After she’d perched on one of the leather wing-back chairs before his desk, Julian took his own seat. God’s truth, he’d rather round the desk, pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but thought better of it. Because if he touched her, he’d not stop.
Where in the bloody hell had his iron-clad control gone?
“Now,” Julian leaned back in his chair, “to what do I owe this pleasurable surprise?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, took a deep breath, and then asked, “Where is Alex?”
Julian hid his disappointment behind a smile. “It seems we shall have the devil of a time keeping him away from the telescope. He’s in the observatory counting down the minutes till sunset.”
Amelia nodded and looked down.
“There’s something else. What is it?”
Clamping her hands together in her lap, she slowly looked up. “You…I…that is, we…” she paused and shook her head, then continued in a rush. “Last night was a mistake, my lord, and will not happen again.”
Julian’s grip tightened on the arms of his chair. Even though Amelia’s cheeks glowed pink, her eyes shone with determination. Be damned, she meant every bleeding word!
Anger shot through him. He had also grown rock-hard and throbbing. Be damned, she could arouse him to the point of pain and refuse him at the same time! That bloody well did not make him happy.
Breathing in a deep, slow breath, Julian reined in the turbulence. He loosened his grip from the chair and relaxed his stiff shoulders, feeling more in control. “What do you mean last night was a mistake?” He had to force calmness to his tone.
Her hands clutched so tightly together, they turned white. “Ours is a marriage of convenience, if you will recall. You married me because of Alex. And as such, that doesn’t give you the right to—”
“It gives me every right, woman.” Julian had had enough. He jumped out of his chair. “I am your husband.” He rounded the desk and pulled Amelia to her feet. “And I have needs.”
The fear that had flitted into her cornflower blue eyes melted into sparks of ire. “Then go sate your needs on someone who wants them.” She tried pulling her arms free of his grasp. “Lady Bridgewater, perhaps?”
He gave her a hard stare. “Are you telling me that you’re repulsed by my touch?” He knew she wasn’t, but wanted to see if she would lie to his face.
“Let me go, my lord,” she said, the fear in her eyes increasing.
“I’ll not let you go until I have my answer.” He wrapped his arms around her.
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?” She struggled uselessly to break away from his hold.
“I want an answer,” Julian said with gritted teeth. With her body wiggling against his solid shaft, he could hardly speak at all.
When she made no reply, his patience snapped. He lowered his lips to the base of her exposed neck and pressed a kiss against her hammering pulse. Hearing her quick intake of breath, he continued to kiss her, moving up to behind her ear.
She went still. “What are you doing?” Her voice had grown feeble.
“Shhh, don’t talk.” He nibbled on her earlobe, feeling her shudder. Then he lifted his hands and worked the tiny pearl buttons at her back, kissing a path down the column of her throat as he slowly exposed skin. He halted as he came to those fleshy mounds rising rapidly above the square neckline. After unfastening enough buttons, he slid the gown off her shoulders.
“Julian!” She tried to move back, but he tightened his hold. The pebbled apricot nipples showed through the thin chemise. Keeping one hand around her, Julian used the other to delve into the sheer material and retrieve a breast. She gasped, and as his lips closed around the hard bead, he heard her moan.
When Amelia began to sway, he scooped her into his arms and laid her down on the sofa. Covering her body with his, he brought his lips down onto hers. He kissed her long and deep, pleased when she threaded her fingers through his hair and returned his kiss.
Their tongues dueled madly. Julian pulled Amelia’s gown away, then threw it somewhere in the room. Her chemise soon followed. Rotating his hips, he pressed his impatient bulge against her heated middle. She moaned and spread her legs. And as the musky sweet scent of her arousal drove Julian near insane with need, he moved his hand to her center, feeling the slick dew drench his fingers.
His mouth continued to feast on hers, his hunger insatiable. With jerky movements, he released his member. And as he led it forward, something gave him pause. Then it came to him.
Julian ended the kiss and lifted his head. He watched Amelia open her eyes, glazed with passion, and saw the confusion enter them. Her kiss-swollen lips parted as if she would ask a question but had forgotten how. Slowly, though it damn near killed him, he grazed her with his shaft but didn’t enter her.
Amelia’s body jerked beneath him. When he did it again, a whimper tore from her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Julian, please.”
“Please, what, my love?” he asked, pressing just a hair’s width inside of her.
“Please.” She moved her head from side to side.
Droplets of sweat beaded on Julian’s forehead, but he would not continue until he heard the words. “What are you trying to tell me, Pixie? Do you want me?”
She groaned.
“Open your eyes, Amelia, and tell me you want me,” Julian said, feeling his control about to snap.
Amelia stilled. Her long, dark lashes swept up from her pale cheeks, revealing eyes vulnerable with unguarded truth. “Yes,” she whispered, “I want you.”
And Julian slid into her.
His lips met hers, and the kiss grew ravenous. So was their lovemaking. Hungry and carnal. Julian pumped hard and fast. And Amelia answered him stroke for stroke, seeming to know exactly what he needed.
Never had he been so in tune with a woman, like their souls had melded. Julian didn’t know where he ended and she began. It frightened him, this unfamiliar feeling, but he couldn’t stop.
And for the first time in his life, he lost control completely. In mindless bliss, he soared up to the stars. Higher and faster he moved. Until finally, he exploded.
When his senses returned
, he realized he lay on top of Amelia, dragging in deep gulps of air, his heart feeling as though it would leap right out of his chest. Damn, what had he done? Never had he acted so barbaric before. Had he hurt her?
Just as he started to lift up and make sure, he felt her touch. It stopped him cold. Soft as a butterfly’s wing, she grazed her lips across his cheek. And in that very second, a warmth settled into his chest. Something unclenched within him. The thick stone shell around his heart cracked.
He swallowed hard.
CHAPTER 15
Amelia’s body still hummed from Julian’s torturously slow lovemaking several hours ago. She sighed, sifting her hands through the cool, damp soil of the herb garden she had found the week before. Why couldn’t she resist him? For two whole weeks, Julian had been able to slake his desires on her whenever and wherever he wanted. And each time, her mind had turned to gruel, and her body had obeyed his every wish. Without even the slightest objection. Curse his black soul!
Shaking her head, Amelia decided she had become a spineless, witless fool. And worse yet, she was falling in love with her husband. Deeply, madly in love.
Perhaps she had never stopped loving him.
Seeing what a good father Julian was to Alex didn’t help, either. Julian never got too busy for her son. In fact, they often spent hours at a time together, mostly in the observatory with that shiny telescope, or dragging the thing out into the garden when it got dark. And the thought of Alex being the happiest she had ever seen him brought a smile to her lips. Her smile slid away. She supposed seeing Alex happy was worth any amount of torment she suffered—or would suffer once Julian tired of her, leaving her aching and unfulfilled when he no longer wanted her.
“I cannot believe it, Mama,” Alex said from beside her, distracting her from her thoughts, “Lord Julian says he wants me to be his son.”
Amelia’s hand stilled as her heart rose up her throat. Then she took a deep breath and calmed. Julian had not told Alex the truth. Not yet. She turned and smiled, though her heart lurched in a painful spasm. She couldn’t help feeling that she was losing her son. For so long, it had been just the two of them, and now, she knew Alex loved Julian a great deal. Probably as much as he loved her.
Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3) Page 13