A Lady's Addiction (Honor Prevails Book 1)

by Angelina Jameson

  The thought of Franco and the passion he’d shown her resulted in a flush to her chest, neck and face. Her breathing quickened. None of the men she’d danced with tonight had elicited such a reaction from her body. All thought of wine flew from her mind. There would be time for that later. Right now, she wanted Franco.

  Anna turned down the lamp in her room, lit a single candle and opened the lone window in her bedchamber. Hands clasped in her lap, she sat on her large four poster bed to wait.

  The night air cooled her heated skin. She looked about her in the low light and drank in the serenity of her bedchamber. Decorated in soft shades of green, it was her oasis. None of Danforth’s propensity for gilt and opulence were allowed in her sanctuary.

  She heard a scraping sound on the balcony of the bedchamber next door and a hand appeared on the sash of the open window. In one fluid movement her lover pulled himself into her room. She started in surprise, despite knowing who her caller would be.

  “Good evening.” Franco bowed to her; his courtly gesture exaggerated. “I must say I am relieved your bedchamber window is located near the balcony.”

  “As am I,” she answered. Though she might not consider him conventionally handsome, in full evening dress Franco looked the picture of masculine elegance. “You were at Lady Beauchamp’s ball.”

  He nodded. His eyes raked over her unbound hair, flimsy nightclothes and bare feet. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

  “You forgot the guineas?” she asked, no longer interested in discussing the ball they both had attended.

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “No?” Her pulse raced. Let him say the words she wanted to hear.

  “I want you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Devlyn could think of no logical reason to be in Anna’s bedchamber. Why had she agreed to this meeting? His motives were purely selfish. He wanted her and chose not to think of what tomorrow might bring.

  “I want to feel desire again.” Anna stood and took a step away from the bed.

  He didn’t smell spirits on her breath and knew her boldness came from passion. That passion trumped any apprehension she had of sleeping with a man she barely knew.

  “I will show you how much I want you.” He closed the short space between them and wrapped her in a fierce embrace. Anna twined her arms around his neck and pressed against him. He didn’t think it possible, but his desire for her grew. She groaned in frustration when his lips moved to kiss her long, graceful neck. “Steady, my sweet. We have all night.”

  She trembled in his arms. He raised his head, looked at her parted lips and glassy brown eyes and exulted in the passion he could arouse in her. He untied her thin robe and her arms dropped to her sides, allowing the garment to fall to the floor and pool around their feet.

  Her night rail of cream silk embraced the curves of her body. The sight of her small breasts draped in the nearly transparent material captivated him. He reached both hands to cup her flesh, her nipples already rigid beneath the soft material of her nightgown. When he rubbed the coral tips between thumb and forefinger she moaned.

  Eager to remove his clothing, he lifted Anna into his arms and carried her to the large bed as she sighed into his chest. Once settled against a mound of pillows on the bed, she watched him strip himself of his long-tailed coat, cravat, white waistcoat and linen shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his shoes and white stockings.

  His footwear and stockings took longer than usual to dispense with as his movements were jerky. He’d never felt so aroused at the thought of lying with a woman. He stood, turned to face Anna and pulled off his knee-breeches. Her eyes caressed his body, lingering on the erection making a tent of his linen drawers. He breathed deeply in an attempt to slow his pulse. He wanted to pleasure her before he lost control.

  In a half-reclining position, Anna slid down to lie on her back on the satin coverlet. Her inviting smile called to him. He positioned himself over her. Her brown eyes had darkened to nearly black and a charming flush covered her neck and chest. The soft citrusy scent he smelled whenever he was near her reached out to him and he nuzzled the side of her neck. Her pulse leapt beneath his lips.

  “Every man at the ball tonight wanted you.”

  She laughed softly in denial and replied in a husky voice, “Surely not.”

  “They were all thinking the same thing,” he whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “I wonder what is under that seductive, maddening dress.”

  * * * * *

  The look in Franco’s eyes made Anna catch her breath. No man had ever looked at her as if she were a banquet and he would devour every dish. “Franco…”

  She saw him wince.

  “My name is Devlyn. I want to hear my name on your lips.”

  “Devlyn?”

  “A family name. My full name is Devlyn Maitlin.”

  “Devlyn.” His eyes sparked when she said his name. “Make love to me.”

  “My thought exactly,” he replied and took her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Against her mouth he whispered, “You are so beautiful.”

  Anna believed him; his name, the compliments, everything. She might well be a fool, but she believed him.

  Her lover smelled of the night air and his spicy cologne. Devlyn rained kisses down her throat and over her collarbone. His feather light caresses became more insistent, more probing.

  “This night is for you, Anna. You were made for pleasure.”

  She shuddered at the raw need she heard in his voice. Devlyn reached for the hem of her gown, now gathered around her knees.

  Her eyes on his face, she felt the fabric move over her abdomen. Her stomach muscles clenched at the sensation of the soft cloth rasping against her most tender places. She sat up slightly and he divested her of the gown.

  Eyes now closed, she settled back into the pillows. Her memory of the unkind words Danforth had said about her small breasts and plump thighs on their wedding night flooded her thoughts. From that moment on she’d insisted her bedchamber be in darkness when he paid his conjugal visits. The lack of candlelight had been a relief as the sight of her husband naked in the light was something she’d never wanted repeated.

  She opened her eyes when Devlyn didn’t immediately respond to her nakedness. He stood up from the bed, his gaze seeming to roam over her whole body at once.

  “Your thighs are soft and inviting. Like two soft pillows inviting me to lay my head upon them.”

  She caught her breath at his scandalous words and nearly choked when he untied his drawers and pulled them off.

  “Oh my…” Her nervousness revealed itself in a giggle. Compared to Danforth’s slim instrument, Franco’s manhood looked huge. “You’re too big.”

  He smiled, clearly delighted by her words. “It will fit, I assure you.”

  Enough light emanated from the single candle in the room to illuminate the beauty of Devlyn’s body. His wide-shouldered, slim-hipped frame was indeed a pleasure to look at. The light spattering of curly dark hair on his chest glinted in the candlelight and her fingers itched to touch his hair. His skin.

  The mattress dipped when her lover moved to lie on the bed, facing her. His left hand caressed her face. “I promise I will not hurt you. You will be more than ready when I take you.”

  “Ready?”

  “Let me show you.” He leaned in to kiss her on the mouth and his hand moved from her face to cup her breast.

  “Are you cold?” he asked when she trembled under his touch.

  She shook her head and her body arched under his hand. As Dev’s thumb and forefinger gently strummed her nipple he continued to kiss her, his lips moving from her mouth to her chin. He trailed a path of kisses to the hollow of her throat where she felt her pulse jump under his lips.

  His hand created a path of sensation from under her cleavage to her stomach. She tensed and he paused.

  “Trust me,” he said against her lips before he explored the seam of her mouth wi
th his tongue.

  Anna opened for him and reveled in the feel of his tongue mating with hers. She moved her hands and timidly ran them over his broad shoulders and muscular back. His skin was warm to the touch and her caresses grew ever bolder.

  His wandering hand moved in small, ever widening circles over her abdomen until he brushed her curls. His fingertips stroked ever so lightly through the soft down to find her nether lips. She gasped and pulled back from their kiss. He held her gaze with his own as he rubbed her soft folds between his long fingers.

  “Devlyn,” she sighed, scarcely recognizing her own voice. Her arms reached up to hold his shoulders in a firm grip. Danforth had never touched her there with anything but his manhood. “I need something…” Pressure grew inside of her and she moved restlessly under his skilled hand.

  He slipped the tip of a finger into her tight channel, stroked her flesh again with his thumb and the dam burst. Waves of ecstasy flowed from her core to ripple throughout her body. Her cries of pleasure, although low, were a shock to her own ears. When the throb of her release receded, she had no time to be ashamed of her wantonness. Devlyn moved to lie on top of her, his weight supported by outstretched arms placed near her shoulders.

  Skin to skin, she felt the warmth of his erection against her belly. He studied her face as she attempted to regain the power of speech.

  “Have you never come off when lying with a man?” he asked her, his voice ragged, his breath coming in short bursts.

  “I have never experienced such a thing.” She reveled in the feel of his rigid member pressed against her abdomen. “The feeling was… wonderful.”

  Devlyn snorted softly. “It was merely wonderful? We can do better than that.”

  “Can we?” she asked with anticipation. He rubbed his lower body against her now moist curls. She groaned his name.

  “Touch me,” her lover said.

  She knew what he wanted.

  Anna reached between their bodies and grasped his thick erection. She had never touched Danforth so intimately—had never had the desire to. The warm flesh in her hand pulsed with life and she was impatient to feel Devlyn inside of her. Making love with him so far had been incredible. She knew the next step would be so as well.

  Devlyn kissed her and his mouth now moved more urgently over hers. He groaned against her lips as she experimentally stroked his flesh with her fingers. She explored the length of him, captivated by the tip of his staff, the soft skin there a contrast to the hard ridge below it.

  Her lover lifted his head. “Guide me.”

  Again, she knew what he wanted. She wanted it as well.

  She guided his body into hers and she could feel her body stretch to accommodate his hard length. He filled her and she bit her lip to hold back a shout of joy. It felt good, he felt good.

  “Are you all right?” Devlyn asked her, his voice uneven. His eyes showed genuine concern.

  “Oh yes,” she replied.

  He took her mouth in a quick kiss.

  Devlyn began to slowly move inside of her and she felt the pressure building again. From somewhere she heard her voice calling his name. The warmth of the room and the scent of their bodies joining formed a cocoon she never wanted to leave.

  They kissed as they moved in unison. She used her vaginal muscles to pull him deeper into her body and too soon she began to tremble from the waves of pleasure rolling though her. Her climax felt different than the one before, deeper, and more intense. Devlyn buried his head in her shoulder, gave one last thrust and groaned his release against her skin.

  Some moments later he raised himself up on both arms and looked down at her, his breathing still rapid, his body united with hers.

  She smiled into the face of the man who had changed her future. He’d shown her pleasure she would have never believed existed between a man and woman.

  A sigh escaping his lips, Devlyn withdrew from her. He rolled to lounge beside her, head in hand, and grinned.

  “It was wonderful?”

  “It was so much more than wonderful.” She closed her eyes, exhausted, and snuggled into the shelter of his warm body. “Thank you, Devlyn. I will marry again and have children. I am not a cold, useless shell of a woman.”

  Chapter Eight

  Cecily looked down the small hill and recognized Franco as the lone figure who stood mere steps away from the Serpentine lake in Hyde Park.

  She sighed loudly. “Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten my parasol. Emily, please return to the carriage and retrieve it for me.”

  The mid-afternoon sun remained hidden by a cloud covered sky. Andrew’s nurse made no reference to this fact. Emily merely nodded at her mistress’s request and retraced her steps back up the hill their party had just come down. Once the girl was safely out of sight, Cecily strolled to a spot near the water a short distance from her former lover, Andrew’s hand firmly in her own.

  “Ducks!” Andrew released her hand and ran to the spot where Franco stood throwing breadcrumbs to the waterfowl. “Me feed! Me feed!”

  She was relieved to see Franco allow Andrew to take some crumbs from the linen napkin he held. Although she didn’t want her son anywhere near the libertine, she’d really had no other choice. She and Andrew were leaving the house for an ice at Gunter’s and a walk in the park when a missive from Franco arrived.

  Lady Pickerel-

  Meet me near the west end of the Serpentine, Hyde Park. Now.

  Franco

  Andrew pouted at the idea of delaying his treat. She reminded him of the waterfowl at the park. “We will say hello to the ducks and then we will get your ice.”

  Her son moved closer to the water and she watched him anxiously, the desire to protect her child competing with the knowledge she must let him discover some things in life on his own. What if he stumbled and fell into the pond?

  “I thought you were afraid of water,” she said softly.

  “I merely have a healthy respect for it,” Franco replied. “The boy speaks very well for his age.”

  “Andrew is eighteen months old.”

  “Has it been so long?”

  Cecily could feel his disinterested gaze skim over her body before it returned to the water in front of him. For her own part, she no longer felt the desire for him she once had. It had only ever been about the money for him, no matter her delusions. She told herself it didn’t matter that he had slept with Anna, had aroused the other woman’s passion. The moment in time she had cared about the man was a mere deviation from her unhappy, barren existence.

  Franco had been a means to an end. The only way to deny her middle-aged husband his conjugal visits would be to conceive the all-important heir. After a year of marriage, she concluded that her situation was hopeless. Through the gossip mill she learned not one of her husband’s mistresses had ever borne a child to him.

  One afternoon, distraught from what she perceived as pitying glances from the other women at the tea she attended, she excused herself to a retiring room and struggled not to cry out her frustration.

  A very beautiful dark-haired woman entered the room. The woman smiled at Cecily, her face full of sympathy. “Are you quite well?”

  No, she wasn’t quite well. Her friend Anna had left London on her wedding trip and she had no one to complain to about the unfairness of her life.

  “Come now,” the woman said after introducing herself as Lady Millicent Cameron. “What could a lovely young lady like you be sad about?”

  Again, quite unlike her usual self, she broke down and told the woman her tale of woe.

  Lady Cameron patted Cecily’s shoulder. “I know someone who can help you.”

  She couldn’t remember a time when a woman other than Anna had been so kind to her.

  A meeting with Franco had been arranged and Cecily’s heirloom jewelry paid for her son. Too late she realized why Millicent had been so eager to help her.

  “What is this meeting about?” she asked Franco, returning her thoughts to the present. “I gave y
ou your next victim. I wash my hands of you.”

  “Not so fast.” His eyes followed Andrew who wandered closer to the water to greet the next arriving wave of waterfowl. “Your friend Lady Stafford didn’t keep our appointment.”

  “What do you mean?” She moved to stand between Andrew and his father. Franco had been no more than a stud for hire, never concerned about the child.

  “Your precious Anna was not at the inn.”

  “She was most definitely at the inn. Anna told me she met you and…” She stopped talking. It would be better to say no more until she’d spoken with Anna. Would her friend lie? Had Anna changed her mind and hadn’t wanted to tell her?

  A nasty light came into Franco’s eyes. She could see he’d thought of something that made him very happy.

  “What is it?” she asked. Panic rose inside of her.

  His smile looked sly. “I believe your friend did meet with someone. Not to worry. A mere coincidence may net me quite a bit of blunt.”

  * * * * *

  Anna woke up and promptly wished she were dead. She had only a moment to register the fact she was alone in the large bed before she leaned over the side of the feather mattress and cast her accounts.

  The window remained open from the night before and the dawn brought with it a cool breeze. The air smelled fresh but in no way lessened her nauseated state. Her body shivered while at the same time beads of sweat formed on her forehead and upper lip. She made to stand, became dizzy and collapsed back onto the bed.

  “I’m dying.” Her head spun no matter which way she tried to lie down. She found the most relief from her discomfort came when she sat up straight, remained motionless and closed her eyes.

  A short time later she leaned over the side of the bed again. Too sick to call for her maid, she sat naked for several minutes before Mary found her.

  “Dear heaven, what’s wrong? My lady, why didn’t you ring for me?”

  “Couldn’t move,” she replied through parched lips. “Water, Mary. I need water.”

  The maid skirted the sick on the floor and poured water from a crystal carafe on the night table into a matching tumbler.