Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances

by Tammy Andresen

  “I do. Sometimes.” But a grin played at her mouth until his fingers reached above her knee. Then the grin died as she nibbled her lip.

  Still his fingers slid higher until they once again reached her curls. This time she knew what it would feel like and she tensed, already anticipating the pleasure. But he stopped just short.

  “Take off your chemise,” he said.

  She only hesitated for a moment. She’d be near bare except for her slippers. But then she sent the fabric sailing over her head.

  He drew in a sharp intake of air as he leaned back on his heels and he stared up at her. Then he reached up his hand, tracing her body with leisurely strokes. “I know what you mean about wanting to sketch. Cordelia you are…stunning.”

  A flush was climbing her cheeks and she resisted the urge to cover herself. “Your turn.”

  By way of answer, he stood. Underneath the nearest tree was a bed of pachysandra that he laid his coat over and then took her hand, leading her to his makeshift bed. She lay down on the fabric, surprised by how soft it was.

  He sat on the bench, quickly pulling off his boots. Then he joined her on the coat, lithely climbing up her body as she shifted to lie flat on her back.

  Never had a man looked more glorious and her hands reached out to pull him higher. She wanted to kiss him. Run her hands all over his back once again, but he stopped near her pelvis, placing a little peck on her hip. “Open for me, love,” he said as he started to kiss closer to the juncture of her thighs.

  She did as he commanded, heat already building between her legs. He parted her curls with his fingers, slipping the pad of his middle finger through her slick folds. Her body spasmed with need even as he slid his tongue along the same path.

  Stars burst behind her eyes and she squeezed them shut, winding her fingers in his hair. “Ash,” she cried out, her leg automatically hooking over his shoulder.

  He repeated the same move with first his finger and then his tongue and more lights sparkled behind her lids. She wasn’t sure she’d survive the pleasure.

  And then, when he worked his finger lower, into her channel, his tongue swirling circles on her sensitive nub, her entire body spasmed.

  Pleasure was ricocheting through her, her hands frantically pulling at his shoulders, his hair, the back of his neck, but he didn’t relent. As he increased the pressure, the pleasure was too much and she fell over the edge, crying out his name one last time.

  Ash heard his name on her lips, satisfaction coursing through him. She belonged to him and him alone.

  She was everything he’d never even dared to dream, and he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe, happy, loved.

  He began climbing up her torso, kissing a trail as he went. His breeches were still on, which was a very good thing, his cock had a mind of its own and it wanted her in the most wicked way.

  Ash kissed up her neck and then found her lips, her body soft and so pliant under his. He skimmed his fingers into her hair, wishing it were down and flowing about her shoulders. As if she heard his request, she began pulling out the pins, allowing the locks to fall into his waiting hands.

  “Ash,” she said quietly into the night. “Your pants.”

  “What about them?” he asked, still combing his fingers through the lush locks of hair.

  “They’re still on,” she replied, her fingers coming to the laces.

  “They should be. We’re not—” But he didn’t have a chance to finish before she’d already undone the strings and was tugging the fabric down his hips. “How did you do that?”

  “I have dexterous fingers,” she answered, wiggling the tight garment down past his rear so that his cock sprang out.

  He had firsthand knowledge of just how wonderful those fingers were and memories of their time on the beach assaulted his thoughts as his member grew even harder. The poor thing was likely to shatter soon. “Cordelia,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I can’t control myself if you keep this up.”

  “So don’t,” she said, wiggling down lower, her mouth peppering kisses along his skin. She wasn’t actually going to…

  She reached his member and her supple lips placed the softest kiss right on the tip. Seed leaked out and every muscle in his body locked up. “Tell me what to do,” she said as she continued kissing down the shaft. “You’re so different from me.”

  He rolled onto his side and she followed him, sliding the head between her lips. He squeezed his eyes shut and then open again, trying to regain composure. “You don’t need me to tell you anything. Bloody hell.”

  She gave the softest giggle as she took more of him into her mouth. “Can you finish this way too?”

  “Oh yes,” he answered, his hands twined into her hair. “Yes.” he hissed out. Part of him wanted all of her. Wanted to take her maidenhead tonight. But he knew he needed to wait. He’d yet to gain her father’s permission and without it he wouldn’t take her virginity.

  She slid more of him into her mouth, her tongue dancing along the tip. Was it set to the rhythm of a quadrille? His eyes rolled back into his head. He’d never dance that tempo the same again. His breath hissed from his lungs as he guided her up and down his shaft, his body tightening and tensing until he thought he might break from the tension building within.

  He was nearly at the edge when suddenly she reared back, his cock coming out of her mouth with a soft pop.

  He likely deserved the teasing, but a cry of frustration rose to his lips. He needed her. He’d revealed his deepest darkest secrets tonight and rather than reject him, she cradled him in her love. She gave him more than he’d ever hoped for. Love, passion, need welled inside him, nearly overwhelming him with joy. “Cordelia, please.”

  In response, she climbed up his body, her nipples skimming his flesh, causing goose pimples to rise all over his skin.

  “I want all of you,” she said by way of response. “Will you give it to me?”

  Dear heaven above, he wanted to be a good man. But such an enticing plea like that… “You’re trying to kill me.”

  She laughed. “I’m trying to love you.”

  He slid his fingers into her hair. “I’ve not gotten permission for your hand.”

  She shook her head. “Stop worrying. My father has offered you a position in his company. Permission granted.”

  The logic was thin, but he couldn’t care in this moment and rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs. He wanted her, all of her, wished to claim her, make her entirely his.

  His cock head settled between her wet folds, sliding into her channel.

  The cords of his neck tightened with the effort to go slow as her fingernails dug into his back.

  “Are you all right, love?” he asked, his jaw locked tight.

  She gave a stiff nod. “Do it. Hurry.”

  With one quick thrust, he broke her maidenhead. She tensed, crying out underneath him and he stilled, allowing her to adjust. Instead, he kissed her face, her neck, the spot behind her ear, until she relaxed underneath him. Then, he began to move.

  He felt the moment she relaxed, the pain having receded. And then, blessedly, her hips began to meet his, her limbs tensing again. Not with pain, but with pleasure as her legs tightened about his hips.

  He was barreling toward the finish but, with sheer force of will, he held off until he felt her spasm around him, her channel gripping his manhood as she cried his name again. Then, he let go.

  “Cordelia,” he groaned, his seed spilling as he came apart in her arms. Collapsing on top of her, he gathered her close, their hearts beating together.

  She was his forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the first rays of the morning light, Ash walked Cordelia to the kitchen door. She didn’t even bother going to bed. Instead, she made her way to the music room, and sat in front of her pianoforte.

  She’d hardly played for the past few days, but now, music itched through her fingers. Plunking at the keys, each bar flew from her hands and
she pulled out empty sheets, grabbing a quill to write the piece.

  She lost track of time, the sun rising high in the sky as she worked.

  “Have you eaten?” Ophelia asked, as she gently set a plate of food next to Cordelia.

  Cordelia rubbed her eyes. “Oh. I didn’t see you come in. What time is it?”

  “Nearly eleven,” her sister answered. “You’ve been at it for hours. Inspired?”

  “Yes.”

  Ophelia sat on the bench next to Cordelia, handing her sister a piece of toast. “Eat.” When Cordelia had taken a bite, Ophelia leaned back. “Does this have anything to do with Lord Dashlane talking to father in his office?”

  She started. “He’s talking with father? Now?”

  Ophelia raised a brow. “Take another bite and answer my question first.”

  “Yes. It has everything to do with him.” Heat climbed up her cheeks. She didn’t tell her sister what they’d done but she could tell her about his proposal. “He’s asked me to marry him and I’ve accepted.”

  Ophelia clapped. “And you’re playing? What does he think of you pursuing a career as a composer?”

  Cordelia looked down at the keys. “He supports it. He knows I will not just be his wife.”

  Ophelia drew in a gasp. “Oh, that is wonderful.” Then she threw her arms about Cordelia.

  She returned her sister’s hug. “If I eat the rest of this toast, can I get back to work? This piece. It’s crying to come out.”

  Ophelia nodded but made no move to get up.

  Cordelia raised a brow as she took another bite. “You’re not leaving?”

  Ophelia slowly shook her head back and forth. “Not until the toast is gone. And—” She wagged a finger. “I’m going to have to warn Lord Dashlane about your propensity to forget to eat and sleep when you’re invested in a project.”

  Cordelia smiled at that and dutifully finished her toast and then turned back to her instrument. Ophelia cleared her throat. “A sip of tea too.”

  With a soft sigh she did as her sister commanded, knowing it was the quickest way to return to work.

  The day passed with her family coming in and out, feeding her, making her take short breaks.

  By nightfall, she’d gotten the bones of the piece on the paper and her fingers relaxed. Her composition wasn’t done but it was getting there.

  She heard someone enter the music room and she wrinkled her nose, knowing that either Bianca, Adrianna, or Ophelia was going to make her eat.

  “I know. It’s dinner time,” she called over her shoulder, writing down the series of notes that would be the crescendo.

  “It is,” a deep voice responded. “And I have not seen my fiancée the entire day.”

  Dropping the quill into the ink, she turned back to look at Ash. “You’re here,” she gushed, raising her arms to him.

  “I’m here,” he said. “I’ve been here all day.” He slipped his arms about her, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “But you’ve been gone for most of it.”

  She looked down at the ivory keys. “I can be like this sometimes. A song gets in my head and I have to work until it’s all out.”

  “It’s all right,” he answered, grazing a kiss on her temple. “It’s been lovely to watch. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  She looked into the deep blue of his eyes. “Really? I didn’t frighten you away?”

  “Never,” he said, taking her hands in his. “And I’ve gotten some valuable lessons on how to care for you while you work.”

  She gave him a beaming smile. “Do you want to hear it? It’ll be days of fine-tuning, but the structure is complete.”

  He gave a quick nod. “I’d be honored.”

  She perched her fingers over the keys. She didn’t need the sheet music she’d penned; the song was in her head. As the first notes echoed through the room, she closed her eyes and began to play. The music poured from her body. A love song. One filled with the highs, the joys, but also the uncertainty, the difficulty of baring one’s very soul to another person and the worry of rejection that went along with such a risk.

  The soft ending lilted from her fingers, still not down on the paper, and she ended, opening up her eyes and grabbing her quill, furiously scribbling notes as it all came together.

  Ash didn’t say a word as she finally dropped the quill into the ink with a deep exhale of satisfaction.

  “Cordelia,” he said, his words strangling in his throat. “That was…” He swallowed. “I’ve no words to describe how much that song touched my heart.”

  She looked at him then. “It’s about us.” She squeezed his fingers, realizing her own were stained with ink. “A moonlight serenade.”

  He took her fingers and raised them to his lips. Then, dropping them down, reached with one hand into his pocket and pulled out a ring. A single round diamond sparkled in the candlelight.

  She gasped. “This was my mother’s.”

  He gave a stiff nod. “Someday, very soon, we’ll get you another.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want another. This is perfect.” He slipped the stone onto her finger.

  “Cordelia Moorish.” His voice rose, filling the room. “I’d like to ask in front of your family. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Yes,” she answered, tears clogging her throat. “A hundred times, yes.”

  Cheering erupted from behind them and she turned to see her entire family standing in the doorway. They were joined by their soon-to-be husbands, Charlie, and Balstead. Her eyebrows lifted to see Balstead next to Charlie once again, but she was soon distracted by her own appearance. She’d not even gone to her room to comb out her hair.

  She looked down at her rumpled dress. “Oh dear.”

  Ash leaned forward. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

  Ash meant those words. More than any others in his entire life. Well, except for maybe when he’d told her loved her.

  He itched to share the rest with her. The plans he and her father had made together today. But he waited, wanting her to be in just the right frame of mind.

  “You are jesting,” she said as she smiled at their joined hands. Then she leaned forward. “Do I look as though I spent the night in the garden?”

  He suppressed a laugh. Her dress was a bit wrinkled, her hair hung down her back in waves, and her hands had ink stains, but her cheeks were flushed pink with her joy and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “I wish to see you like this every day of my life.”

  She winked at him. “Thank you. I need to stretch my back. What say you, we step out onto a balcony?”

  He gave a quick jerk of his chin and then waved her family in, leading her through one of the doors and out into the night.

  She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air and stretching her back and he watched her, hunger making him reach out to touch her waist. “I spent the day with your father.”

  She looked over at him, smiling. “Really? How was it?”

  “Wonderful,” he answered honestly. “He’s a man of the highest quality.”

  She turned to look at him, squinting as she assessed him, her head cocking. “Do you love me or are you marrying me for my father?” Then she gave a tinkling laugh and he joined her.

  “I am most definitely marrying you, but I have to confess that your family is the type I’ve waited my whole life to belong in. The fact that I get to be part of it…” He stopped, emotion overwhelming him.

  She slipped her arms about him. “I’m glad too.”

  He held her close. “Your father is going to have me travel back and forth to London. I can supervise the docks there, learn the business.”

  She bit her lip, looking up at him with worried eyes. “You’ll be gone regularly?”

  She swiped his thumb along her lip, and she released the flesh. This was what he’d been waiting to tell her. “And so will you.”

  Her brow scrunched. “What?”

  “We’ll travel together.
You can sell your pieces, perform if you like.” He paused. “I’ll have to finish paying my father’s debts but with the salary your father is offering, by next year we can start building our forever home. And your father says one day he’ll retire, and I’ll take over.”

  She smiled, then, the grin lighting the night or perhaps that was just his heart. “That is wonderful!” Then she squeezed him as her arms wrapped about his neck. “We’re going to build a beautiful future.”

  “The best,” he answered, emotion clogging his throat as he held her tight to his chest. He swallowed. He’d managed to burn away his past after all this time. And what was left was a bright new future.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later…

  Cordelia stood on the veranda, her arm linked with her father’s.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, giving her fingers a soft squeeze.

  “I’m ready,” she said, bouncing on her heels. “I didn’t think I would ever marry, did you know that?”

  “I had my suspicions,” he answered, patting again. “But I’m glad you changed your mind.”

  “Me too,” she answered. “But you tell me why first.”

  He chuckled. “I like all your sisters’ choices, but Lord Dashlane...” Her father stilled, looking out over the garden. “Ash feels like the son I never had. Together, we could build the business even stronger and,” he stopped, looking down at the ground, “your turn.”

  She removed her arm to give her father a hug. “You deserve a man who feels like a son. Raising five daughters and all.” Then she let him go again, slipping her hand back into his arm. “He loves me for me and I for him. It’s not the typical marriage, but I have a feeling it’s going to suit us perfectly.”

  He gave a single jerk of his chin. “I understand completely, and I am so happy for you.”

  Ophelia appeared on the path to the secret little garden that Cordelia would now consider their spot for the rest of her life. She and Ash had decided it was the perfect place to hold their little ceremony.