“I’m certain,” she managed to say past a swelling tide of need.
He left for a moment to shuck his trousers and drawers before returning and pressing his heated, solid body to hers. He cupped Helen’s face, his eyes as intense and piercing as she had ever seen them. They seemed to cut straight to her heart.
“You are very sure?” he queried again, almost as if he needed to reassure himself as much as he wanted to reassure her.
She had seen him, every bit of him, as he had joined her on the bed. He was almost unbearably beautiful to behold. She knew a brief, passing flurry of nerves before dashing them away. He jutted against her belly, hot and hard. She was as ready as she would ever be to know him in every way she could.
Helen framed his face, his beard a delicious prickle against her palms. It seemed impossible to believe that this man, strong and handsome and so much an enigma to her, was hers to touch. “I am sure.”
He kissed her then, long and deep and tenderly. And at last, he rolled them as one so that she was beneath him, her legs falling apart with his gentle guidance. He teased her with his fingers before finally the rigid length of him met her precisely where she longed for him to be.
“This will hurt a bit at first, sweetheart. I’m sorry for that,” he whispered.
With one slow, swift thrust, he entered her. She knew a sharp twinge of pain as her body accepted him completely, dragging him deep within her. He stilled, his breathing ragged. She knew he would stop if she asked it of him. But she didn’t want him to stop. She moved against him, urging him to continue. She wanted all of him. Wanted everything. With a muttered curse, he withdrew almost completely and then slid home inside her once more. Gradually, the discomfort subsided as her body grew accustomed to this new, delicious invasion.
As he moved within her, he kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers, claiming her with his mouth as surely as he claimed her body with his. His fingers slipped between them to tease her as he had before. The ache building between her thighs grew, and this time it was even more insistent. She felt as if she soared higher and higher, as though at any moment her body would come apart in shuddering surrender again. Levi knew just how far to go, how slow and then how fast, how sweetly and how passionately she needed him to take her. It was as if he knew her better than she knew herself.
Her entire body had come to life, and she was hyperaware of every sensation, from his fingers stroking her to the gentle abrasion of his stubble upon her cheek. She arched into him, preserving as much of this moment in her memory as she could. Surely nothing would ever compare.
Spasms shook her as she once more reached her peak. She cried out, her breathing ragged, holding him to her, kissing him everywhere she could. His ear. His chin. His strong jaw. And then he too was coming undone, going faster, sliding inside her until his entire body stiffened and she felt the hot spurt of his seed within her.
She cried out again as a series of small aftershocks shook her, but the hazy fog of pleasure surrounding her was dashed when he abruptly withdrew from her, rolling onto his side and jamming his hand through his hair.
“Damn it,” he swore, his breathing as affected as hers.
Helen stared at the length of her body, flushed with passion and his kisses and touch, and then to him, so large and distinctly male. Even his feet were perfect, as finely shaped as the rest of him. Her modesty returned to her as she realized who they were, what they had done. She lay nude next to a man who had just taken her maidenhead with incredible, wicked skill only to curse and withdraw from her as if she’d burned him. She clutched at the bedclothes, drawing them over her. Perhaps he regretted what he’d done. Lord knew she should, but her throbbing body knew not an ounce of repentance.
“I’m sorry, Helen,” he said into the silence that had fallen between them. “I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I?”
She shook her head solemnly and met his gaze. “No. What’s wrong, Levi?”
“Nothing.” He took her back in his arms, pulling the bedclothes over them both and tucking her into the comforting, solid warmth of him. “Not a thing.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You should rest.”
She wanted to protest, but there was something about lying in his protective embrace, the steady thud of his heart beating beneath her ear, that lulled her into the most sound and dreamless sleep she’d had in a long time. But just before she succumbed to slumber, she thought again of the way he had withdrawn from her, and she was sure that he had lied to her when he had said there was nothing wrong. Something had troubled him. She would have to do her best to learn precisely what it was.
evi woke to the early strains of dawn casting its bright light through a small gap in the window dressing. For a moment, he was disoriented. This was not his chamber. A soft, plump breast swelled beneath his hand and the tempting curve of a derriere nestled against his already hard cock. The bed smelled of bergamot and rose, and lustrous curls fanned on the pillow before him. Lady Helen lay in his arms, her steady, even breathing telling him she was still asleep.
Holy hell, what had he done?
He had taken her. Had kissed and loved and tasted every gorgeous inch of her body. Hang it, he’d fallen asleep in her chamber as though he belonged there, sleeping all night with her in his arms as he’d never done with another woman before her. Worst of all, he had lost control and spent himself inside her.
He hadn’t meant to do any of those things. From the time he’d been a lad who ran off to join the war and make something of himself to the day he’d met her, his entire life had been rooted in reason, order, duty, function, and routine. He had never, not once, allowed his baser instincts to rule his better judgment. He was cautious. Careful. Precise. He didn’t engage in affairs with innocent ladies. He didn’t cast his plans all to hell because a beautiful woman kissed him in a locked study. He didn’t forget what it meant to be a man of honor simply because the most maddening woman he’d ever met had offered herself to him.
But he had committed all those sins. Every last, damn one of them. By God, he had taken the innocence of a noblewoman beneath his own friend’s roof. A woman who was outspoken and ferocious, sweet and lovely, kind and good, and his better in every sense of the word. He ought to be drawn and quartered. What had he done to deserve her, the precious gift of her passion and her body that she’d so freely given? And he had taken, Lord had he taken. Like the thief he’d once been as a boy, he’d taken what didn’t belong to him not only because he needed it but because he could.
She’d been a virgin, her only experience prior to him a violent farce forced upon her by some faceless bastard Levi still longed to beat to within an inch of life. He understood her now, not only in an elemental way but beyond that. Her devotion to her cause made bitter sense. She was driven to help other women escape a world that rendered them powerless. Because she knew how it had felt. She too had been defenseless once, and it would seem she’d been trying to atone for that by making certain she was never powerless again, by making certain that others were never powerless either.
Helen stirred then, burrowing closer. A bolt of pure lust drove straight through him. He wanted her again, and with a fierce need that shook him. Levi damn well knew better, but he couldn’t resist parting the silken cloud of her hair to drop a kiss on her throat. The thought of leaving her, of never touching her again, left him stricken.
If he possessed a shred of conscience, he would get out of her bed and out of her life forever. He kissed her ear, inhaling deeply of the scent that was innately hers. Somehow, this feisty aristocrat had laid her claim upon him. No, not even a shred of conscience at the moment. Nothing had ever been so wrong or felt more right.
Just once more.
He reckoned there was about an hour until the servants were afoot and even longer before the rest of the household was, having been kept up half the night with festivities. No one would be the wiser. He caught her nipple between his thumb and finger and tugged.
She exhaled on a
throaty moan and arched into him. All he needed to do was roll her onto her back, take her mouth, and slide sweetly home inside her. He ached to do precisely that. But he had no right. He’d already made enough transgressions in the span of one day to last him the rest of his life. Responsibility came crashing back down on him. He couldn’t afford to linger, invite more ruin for either of them. No, he would slip from the bed and be gone before she rose. A shred of conscience after all.
“Levi?”
Damn it, she was awake. She turned in his arms so that she faced him, the bounty of her breasts against his chest. His rigid cock nestled between her thighs now. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was exactly where he belonged.
She blinked sleepily, and she’d never been more gorgeous to him than she was in that instant, unguarded and naked in his arms, her hair a riotous halo about her pretty face. He kissed her because he couldn’t resist.
“Morning.” He pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth, drinking in the sight of her.
“Good morning.” She flushed beneath his stare, no doubt feeling shy after the intimacies they had shared. “Is it wise for you to be here?”
“No.” But he didn’t move just the same. He liked the way she felt, her soft skin teasing his, her warmth a seductive invitation against his rigid arousal.
“Levi.” She cast a glance about the chamber. “Good heavens, you can’t remain here. The servants will surely be about any minute.”
Odd that she was the one so concerned with propriety. Of course, it should have been him. He should’ve been strong enough to let her go, but somehow he couldn’t. “It’s too early for the servants.” His right hand went to her waist, anchoring her to him, his left into the sweet-smelling skeins of her hair.
Her eyes went wide then, bluer than a country summer’s sky. “Levi, you must go. We cannot.”
Hell. Maybe she regretted what had happened between them. He hoped to God she didn’t, but he couldn’t read her. The morning light had dashed the magical spell of the night, and with each increment the sun rose in the sky, they traveled further and further from where they’d been. It was as if she was slipping away from him, and he didn’t like the feeling. Not one damn bit.
But he wasn’t a fool. He hadn’t dug himself out of the dirt, survived the hells of war, and gone on to build a successful business empire by allowing his prick to rule his brain. Far better that they should return to their separate lives and never again repeat this folly. Far better, far wiser, and necessary. He was pledged to another, damn it. Guilt skewered him. He should have told her everything. Should have given her the chance to truly turn him away. But he’d been selfish, greedy. He’d taken what he wanted, and now he still wanted more.
“Oh dear,” she said, interrupting his thoughts as she pushed away from him and rolled out of the bed. She took the counterpane with her, dragging it around her with as much august dignity as a queen donning full court dress. Perhaps she had forgotten just how thoroughly he’d loved, kissed, and tasted every part of her luscious body. “I almost didn’t recall that I promised to meet Gussie this morning.”
He rose from the bed, not bothering to hide his nudity for the sake of her modesty. Her gaze traveled his body, dipping to his cock before she flushed an even brighter shade of scarlet and turned away.
“Who the hell is Gussie?” he growled in irritation. Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to have the willpower to leave her behind? Instead, he had been lingering in the bed like a lovesick swain while she couldn’t wait to put distance between them.
“Gussie is my dear friend.” Helen presented him with her back as she shimmied into a shift beneath her mantle of bedclothes. “She runs a House of Rest for the ladies we’ve managed to save from brothels and for others who have escaped on their own.”
Levi was sure the woman must be an agitator. He knew the sort. He made a noncommittal sound as he took up his discarded drawers and stuffed a leg inside. “Tell me this isn’t the biddy who took you to that den of vice you wrote about.”
Her shift firmly in place, Helen dropped her counterpane and turned to face him. Although her lithe form was covered by fabric, it did little to hide her. Indeed, he swore it was thin enough that he could see the peony pink of her nipples straight through it. Damn but it was difficult for a man to put on his drawers when he was stiffer than a ramrod. She quickly averted her gaze when she realized he was not yet decent.
“Yes, it is, and do keep your voice down.” Her tone was prim, as though she hadn’t turned into a wilding in his arms mere hours before. “I’ll thank you not to refer to her as a biddy. Gussie is a wonderful woman, and I admire her greatly. She’s devoted her life to helping those women and girls.”
Perhaps the woman was a saint, but she was also the cause for Helen putting herself in grave danger, and he was determined not to like her. “Why are you meeting her?”
“The home that she runs is quite out of lodging space, and we are taking in more girls all the time. She found a building that she thinks we may be able to afford in the East End.” Helen busied herself by stepping into her underclothes and buttoning and fastening herself back into her elaborate fashion for the day. “It isn’t in the best neighborhood, but our funds are short. In the end, any roof will do, as long as it’s a safe and dry place.”
He strode across the room and caught her arm before he could even think twice, irrationally angered by her lack of care for herself. “Like hell you’re going to the East End to look at some hovel with only an old biddy for protection.”
She raised an imperious brow. “I’m sure it isn’t any of your concern, Mr. Storm.”
Ah, so he was back to being Mr. Storm now, was he? Here was the termagant he’d met in his offices once more, daring and brash and altogether exasperating. “And I’m sure it is, my lady. I’ll not allow you to put yourself in danger again.”
“There will be no danger.” She sniffed. “We take the brawniest footmen we can find, and they do nicely.”
Good God. The woman was going to make him go mad. One moment, he wanted to make love to her and the next he longed to throttle some sense into her. “The East End is no place for a lady. You and I both know that.”
“And you and I both know that I’m no lady,” she said quietly.
“You are the finest lady I know,” he countered. “Don’t do that, Helen.”
She searched his gaze, her expression pensive, troubled. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t tarnish what we shared, damn it.”
“I only speak the truth.” She shrugged out of his grasp and turned to take up a corset and slip the closures into their moorings. It was violet satin, trimmed in bits of black lace, and he wanted nothing more than to peel her back out of it. “Now if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it greatly if you would return to your own chamber before someone catches you in mine.”
She was right, of course. He needed to leave. He had no right tarrying here, worrying about what she planned to do with her day. He had his work waiting for him, the endless machine of business, the comfort and simplicity of his routine. But he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her, some harm befalling her. To know she had been hurt in the past and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it was torture enough.
“Find a house in a decent part of London,” he urged her. “Don’t go to the East End.” He was a man of the world. He knew what lurked in the dark corners of every city. He had seen and heard it all before as a boy. It wasn’t something he wanted her exposed to.
She pursed her lips, reaching behind her back to tug her laces. “I’m afraid we don’t have the luxury of finding a Mayfair mansion. You see, a miserable cad bought the newspaper that was our primary method of raising funds to aid our cause. Our articles brought us the attention of benevolent benefactors.”
Well, now they truly had come full circle once more. But he had been inside her, had tasted the most delicate and sensitive part of her, and his world as he knew it
was beginning to shift in a way he couldn’t comprehend. He tired of watching her struggle with her laces and went to her, shooing her hands away as he performed the task as efficiently as any lady’s maid could. He’d fastened his fair share of corsets over the years, but never had the task affected him the way tightening up the laces for Helen did.
Even if she had called him a cad. He deserved that, and more than she knew.
“You didn’t think me so very miserable last night,” he reminded her softly as he finished her laces and tied a perfect knot. “Why not have your father, the earl, fund your efforts? Surely he can afford to offer aid?”
“He doesn’t approve of my work because the ladies come from houses of ill repute. He gives me my pin money and little else.” She spun about to face him, looking like a goddess in her half dress, her breasts threatening to spill over the top of her corset. “You really must go, Levi.”
Yes. The light filtering through the curtains grew stronger. Servants would most certainly be about now, and he gambled with scandal and fate by tarrying. “Promise me you won’t risk your fool neck by going to the East End today.”
“Why do you care when you’ll never see me again?” she demanded.
He could no more refrain from seeing her again than he could stop breathing. He didn’t know what that meant for him. Not yet. But all he did know in that moment was that he had to see her again. Had to touch her again. Once was not enough.
“I will see you again, sweetheart,” he promised her, unable to resist tracing her full lower lip with his thumb. And then he laid claim to her in the only way he knew how, by sweeping her into his arms and kissing the hell out of her.
When he finally withdrew, her mouth was red and swollen with his kisses, her eyes dazed. “Don’t go to the East End today, Helen,” he ordered.
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