Dear Stranger

by Suzanna Medeiros

  Remembering how wonderful it had felt when he’d teased her nipples with his tongue, she shifted under him until she could bring her hands and her mouth to his chest. The soft gold hair sprinkled there tickled her cheek as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses to one of his nipples. His breath hitched when she flicked her tongue over the hard nub.

  Her confidence growing, she used her hands to trace a path down his abdomen to the waist of his breeches, her nails raking lightly over his warm skin, and she smiled to herself when she saw his body jerk. She reached for the fall of his breeches and her hands fumbled slightly as she slipped the buttons through their housings. He groaned when she slid her hand under his small clothes and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Given how hard he was, she was surprised at the softness of his skin. She moved her fingers along his length, exploring him.

  “Like this,” he said, wrapping his own hand over hers to show her how he liked to be touched. His breath strained in and out as she continued on her own. She was hampered, however, by his clothing.

  He levered himself off her in a sudden movement, surprising her and leaving her feeling bereft. When she realised that he was removing the rest of his clothing, she purred in contentment, capturing his attention. His eyes met hers and in them she found a wealth of promised delights. She shivered.

  Richard remained motionless for several long moments while she drank in the sight of him. Her eyes drifted down his body, and she stared in amazement at his manhood, jutting out at a proud angle. Taking in his size, she was reminded that there would be pain this first time, but she wasn’t afraid. When he joined her again, she parted her legs to allow him to settle in between them. She reached with eager fingers to touch him again, but he stopped her.

  “I’m too close,” he whispered before taking her mouth. She could taste herself on his lips, and the reminder of what he had done shot a heated surge of wetness to her already slick folds.

  He tore his mouth away and stared down at her while he used one hand to place himself against her entrance. She drew in a breath of wonder at the feel of him against her sensitised skin. He hesitated only a moment before pushing into her. He moved slowly, and she could tell that he was trying to be careful, but the pain was inevitable. She sucked in her breath to hold back her surprised gasp when he broke through her maidenhead.

  He stilled after seating himself fully inside her, watching her face intently. The sensation was so different from the feel of his fingers inside her. He filled her completely and his weight upon her comforted her.

  “Are you hurt?” His breathing was harsh, blowing across her cheek.

  She shook her head. “I was surprised…” The rest of her sentence was lost to a moan when he pulled back until only the tip of him was inside her, then surged forward again.

  His movements started slowly, but that soon changed as lust took over. He was thrusting into her with a force that made her pant with every downward stroke. Instinct urged her to wrap her legs around his lean hips and her passion-fuelled world narrowed, centring on the man over her. His weight holding her down on the cushions of the settee, the way her breasts pressed against his hard chest, the feel of his hot, hungry mouth as it moved over her throat. She felt the fire build within her belly, spreading through her heated body, and when he shifted his hips to grind into her with every stroke she shattered with a suddenness that had her crying out his name. She felt herself convulse, small spasms rippling over her, while Richard thrust once, twice more before burying himself deeply and releasing himself within her.

  The sound of her name was muffled against her neck as he collapsed on top of her. She loved the intimate feel of his weight on her, but all too soon he shifted onto his side on the narrow settee and drew her against him. His shaft slid out of her and she was filled with a sudden sense of emptiness.

  They lay like that for some time as their heartbeats slowed and the sweat of their bodies cooled in the darkened room. She clung to him, her head resting against his shoulder, while he drew slow, lazy circles along her back. She ran her hand over his chest, letting her fingers glide over the sprinkling of fair hair.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when he finally spoke.

  She stilled and looked up into his face. “For what?”

  “For not being more careful. There are things we must do to ensure you don’t fall pregnant, but I wasn’t thinking.”

  The reminder that theirs was only a temporary union was an unwelcome intrusion.

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

  “Sophie, you could already be with child. If that is the case…”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as a pang of yearning settled in her heart. He was going to do the honourable thing and offer to marry her, but that was the last thing she wanted. Not like this, out of a sense of obligation on his part. She smiled at him, hoping it didn’t appear as false as it felt.

  “We can revisit this conversation if I am carrying a child, but until that time there is no need for sacrifices.”

  He frowned at her words, but she was relieved when he didn’t pursue the subject.

  “It is late,” she said with regret. “I should return home before my aunt discovers I am gone.”

  She rose to a sitting position, angling away so her back was to Richard. Her clothes were in a pile several feet away and she could only stare at them as she tried to work up the courage to stand and retrieve them. After what she and Richard had shared, she knew it was ridiculous that she should now be embarrassed about her state of undress, but the courage that had brought her there that night seemed to have deserted her.

  He rose up behind her and placed a kiss on her shoulder. She leant back into his warmth with a contented sigh when he brought his hands around to cup her breasts and began to play with them. She moaned when he tweaked her nipples and she felt the undeniable evidence of his renewed arousal against her backside.

  “Damn,” he said, stopping with obvious reluctance and bringing his hands down to her waist. “What am I thinking? You’ll be too sore to make love again.”

  She felt a surge of disappointment when he released her, but the dull ache between her legs gave credence to his words. She admired the way his lean muscles shifted as he stood and went to retrieve their clothing. They dressed in silence.

  Richard was quiet on the carriage ride back to her house. She tried to imagine what he was thinking, but he gave no indication. It was now late enough that she didn’t fear being seen, but Richard was cautious, stopping a few houses away and instructing his driver to wait for him down the street. He walked with her to the servant’s entrance, which she’d left open when she’d slipped out earlier, and when she turned to say goodbye there was a dark intensity in his expression that made her breath catch.

  “I want to see you again. Tomorrow.”

  She touched a hand to his cheek. “Send word to me through my maid where and when, and I will be there.”

  She leant forward to press her mouth against his. She’d meant the kiss to be a quick peck goodbye, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and crushed her to him. His mouth plundered hers with a renewed hunger that almost made her forget where they were.

  “Tomorrow,” she said, finally managing to pull back.

  He remained silent, but the heated look in his eyes before she turned away and slid quietly into the house told her he was feeling the same thing she was.

  Tomorrow night could not come soon enough.

  Chapter Five

  The next few weeks were the happiest of Sophie’s life. She played the dutiful niece during the day, and she and Richard acted the part of polite acquaintances in public. In private, however, it was a completely different matter. With the assistance of her maid, Sophie managed to sneak out of the house undetected most nights after Aunt Jane had gone to bed. There were also those delicious stolen moments during the various entertainments they attended in the evenings.

  It didn’t take l
ong for word to spread that Henry Hearst had given up his courtship of Sophie, and the suitors who had previously been turned away by Aunt Jane as unsuitable were back in full force. Once again, her aunt tried to direct her as to whom to encourage and whom to let down, but Sophie wasn’t comfortable encouraging anyone’s attention while she and Richard were lovers. She put off the decision, which had the perverse effect of making her more sought after than before.

  Richard made no secret of how much he hated having to watch her dance with and receive compliments from other men. She would never admit it to him, but there were times when she paid particular attention to one of Aunt Jane’s potential suitors precisely because she knew it would rouse Richard’s jealousy. She also knew she’d be in for some very vigorous lovemaking on those nights.

  She did have a moment of sadness when her monthly courses came. Not because she wanted to use a pregnancy to trap Richard into marrying her, but because his very palpable relief upon hearing the news reminded her that theirs was but a brief union. At some point he would tire of her, as he had with all his other paramours, and move on to someone else. She tried not to dwell on that thought, however, determined to enjoy whatever time they had together.

  The night before had been a particularly late night. Aunt Jane had accepted an invitation to the opera from Mr Stanley, the youngest son of Viscount Burlington, and it was clear he was her aunt’s new favourite among the men who were trying to gain Sophie’s attention. Richard hadn’t been pleased when she’d told him she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to hold off making a decision and had kept her up almost until dawn. If he sought to drive all other men from her mind, it was working.

  She drifted in a place between sleep and wakefulness as her thoughts played over everything that they had shared together. She’d done things with him—to him—that she could never imagine doing with any other man.

  He’d had her on her knees before him last night, and such had been her eagerness that he hadn’t had to tell her what to do. She’d known immediately what he’d wanted as she’d unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and pulled out his cock. His groan of satisfaction had rivalled her own moan of delight when she’d taken him into her mouth. She’d explored him with enthusiasm, revelling in his taste and texture, before he’d taken over, showing her how to move over him to bring him to completion.

  The sound of her door crashing open startled Sophie fully awake. Her heart was hammering when she looked up to see her aunt standing at the foot of her bed, arms on her hips and fury vibrating from her.

  Her mind raced as she scrambled for an innocent reason for her aunt’s anger. For a moment she thought she might have overslept and missed their dressmaker appointment, but then she remembered the appointment wasn’t until the next day. Dread settled over her as she suspected the worst.

  “Is something the matter, Aunt Jane?”

  She rose from the bed and reached for her dressing gown. When her aunt’s eyes fixed on her chest she realised her mistake. Her skin, which had always marked easily, was still red from the abrasions of Richard’s whiskers.

  “So it is true,” Aunt Jane said. “You have given yourself to that…that scoundrel.”

  Sophie knew there was no way to deny it, so she remained silent as she wrapped her dressing gown around herself and waited, in silence, for her aunt’s censure. She expected shouts and threats. What she didn’t expect was the deathly calm that had settled over her aunt.

  “I acknowledge my part in this. It is obvious I have been too lenient with you. Knowing how wild and unreasonable your mother was, I blame myself for expecting you to behave in a more fitting manner. We won’t even discuss the common blood that pollutes your veins from that upstart she ran off with.”

  Anger swept over Sophie at her aunt’s insults and she couldn’t remain silent.

  “My father was a wonderful man. Far better than many of the pampered fools I’ve had to entertain over the past months.”

  Her aunt continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “I will be sending word to Viscount Burlington directly. He will be very happy to hear that you have agreed to allow his son’s suit. Given the amount of debt his family carries, I am sure he is more than willing to overlook your past indiscretions.”

  Fear began to creep over Sophie. “I won’t accept.”

  “Oh, you’ll accept. You will accept or you will leave my house today. You forget that you do not come into your inheritance for another year. Without me, you have no one. We both know that while Dearbourne is more than happy to bed you, he would never marry you.”

  She flinched at her aunt’s words, knowing they were true.

  “If you’re lucky, he might consent to make you his mistress. For a time, anyway. So you have a decision to make. Accept Mr Stanley’s suit or cast yourself away from polite society forever.”

  A cold panic settled over Sophie, robbing her of the strength her previous anger had given her.

  “Aunt Jane, please don’t do this. Allow me some time to choose someone else—”

  “Dress and meet me downstairs in one hour. I will expect your decision then. But know that if you choose to defy me in this, you will be leaving here with nothing.”

  Sophie could only watch in despair as her aunt left the room, closing the door more quietly than when she had entered. One year. If she had managed to postpone this decision for one year she would have had enough money to do whatever she wanted, society be damned. Her choices now, however, were strictly limited. Marriage to a man she barely knew and to whom she felt no spark of attraction, or go to Richard and accept whatever scraps of affection he was willing to give her. She had no doubt he would set her up in a house in a good area of London, but for how long? How long before he tired of her? She might have her inheritance by then, but she would be forever associated with the members of the demimonde. She wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to handle the shame.

  On legs that felt wooden, she crossed the room to sit at her dressing table. She took her writing desk from one of the drawers and went through the motions of setting up the small desk on her dressing table, pulling out a sheet of paper and trimming the point of her quill pen. After dipping it into the ink pot, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the paper. She warred with herself as to how much to tell Richard. In the end, remembering again how happy he’d been to learn she wasn’t with child, she decided it would be best to end things quickly.

  “Lord Dearbourne,

  I have enjoyed our time together, but I must now think about the future. You will soon hear that I have accepted Mr Stanley’s suit. I expect our marriage will take place before the year is out.

  S.”

  * * * *

  He’d sent her a note later that day and the next, but she’d returned them unopened. On the third day he came himself. She knew she was being a coward, but she couldn’t face him and had the butler tell him she was away from home. He wouldn’t believe it, of course, but he would accept it.

  Unable to resist, she stood by her window and watched when he left the house. She felt a pang when he climbed onto his curricle and took hold of the reins, and knew without a doubt that she had done the unthinkable. She’d fallen in love with him. He turned his head then and looked up at her. She could see the tension in him and wanted desperately to go to him. Without any sign of acknowledgement, he turned back to his horses and drove away from the house.

  She dreamt that night that, instead of turning away from her, he’d stormed upstairs and demanded from her that which she was so willing to give. They hadn’t taken the time to disrobe. Instead, he’d dragged up her skirts, pushed her against the wall and claimed her with a ruthlessness that had had her body contracting around his in seconds. When she’d woken to find herself alone, she curled up into a tight ball and wept.

  * * * *

  Between her misery and the fitful dreams that kept her awake, she felt as though she would never again be happy. It was a week after Richard’s visit when she received the fina
l blow. Her aunt took great joy in telling her that Lord Dearbourne had been seen in Hyde Park escorting Lady Wentworth, and that they were rumoured to be lovers.

  She saw no point in hiding after that and agreed to go out the following night. The Season was coming to a close and soon everyone would be leaving town for their country estates. Mr Stanley made a great show of welcoming her when they arrived at the ball, and she knew he was staking his claim. She smiled at him and allowed him to monopolise her time. Her aunt may have won their current battle of wills, but Sophie had not yet ceded the war. She’d agreed to marry Mr Stanley and there would be an announcement soon, but she would use whatever wiles she possessed on him to postpone the marriage until after she had come into her inheritance. When that time came, she’d be able to break the engagement without worrying about losing her aunt’s charity.

  She was returning from the ladies’ retiring room when she heard the whispers.

  “Her behaviour is scandalous. And his is no better.”

  Curious, she looked across the room to see who had so outraged the two matrons. Her heart almost stopped when she saw Richard smiling down at another woman. Lady Wentworth, no doubt. She was older than Sophie, but with age came sexual confidence. Sophie could see it in the way the woman leaned a little too close, giving Richard an unobstructed view of her breasts in her very low-cut bodice. Her hand stroked along his arm. When he laughed at something she said, Sophie thought she was going to be sick.

  Instead of heading back to where her aunt and Mr Stanley waited, she changed direction and slipped out into the garden. With the end of spring, the ballroom was almost insufferably hot and there were a few other couples outside hoping to catch the hint of a breeze. Sophie ignored them and moved farther into the garden, where she would be alone. She wished more than anything that she had stayed home. Seeing Richard with another woman hurt too much.

  “Sophie.”

  She thought she’d imagined hearing her name. She turned and was surprised to see Richard standing a few feet away from her. She looked behind him and he smiled.