He brushed his mouth against hers. So soft. He still held her ankle as her feet settled on either side of his knees. He could just lie down on top of her, push them both back in the sand and then he’d be cradled between her legs. He kissed her again. His cock was stiff as a board and his mind muddled with desire. He wanted that so much. To lose himself in this woman. “One more kiss. Just for a minute. And then that’s it.”
“One more,” she repeated and then said nothing else as his mouth covered hers, slanting hers open so that he might brush his tongue to hers.
Her arms threaded about his neck, and without even realizing it, he did exactly what he imagined. They tumbled back, his manhood nestling into her soft mound. They both groaned as he shifted to place even more pressure where he was sure she needed it most.
Her legs wrapped about his, her skirts completely tangling, as he pumped against her, the friction, even with all their clothes on, causing them both to moan again.
She broke away. “You didn’t tell me about this part.”
Instead of answering, he captured her mouth again. This part wasn’t his to teach. It belonged to the man who would call her “wife” and a stab of guilt punctured the haze of lust. He was stealing this away.
But then another, more possessive emotion roared inside him. No other man would touch her. She belonged with him.
Where the hell had that come from?
He lifted up, looking down at her, her eyes unfocused, her mouth puffy, her arms still threaded about his neck. He couldn’t keep her. He’d made a vow. But neither did he want to let her go.
Chapter Eight
Charlie attempted to concentrate but it was so difficult with his large, strong body pressed to hers. His hand was behind her back and he held her stomach tight to his even as something hard rubbed her most sensitive area, sending tendrils of pleasure spiraling through her core.
She wanted more.
He gazed down at her, his dark eyes almost smoky with heat and she tightened her legs, wrapped about his, causing more pleasure to zip through her. Her lips parted as she drew in a shuddering breath. Her head fell back and her back arched higher.
“Raithe,” she whispered, testing the name again. It suited him and she liked the feel of it on her tongue. “I want…” She didn’t know how to finish that thought but he seemed to understand how to answer it.
He slid his hand lower, from the small of her back to her behind, and pushed them tighter together. A wave of pleasure coursed through her and she gripped his scalp tighter, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled at the strands. “How did you know to do that?”
He began kissing a trail down her neck, his lips sliding over her flesh, making her shiver. “That is but one small touch that I know to bring you pleasure, my sweet little minx. There are so many more.”
“More?” Her eyes fluttered closed as he pushed against her again, creating a rhythm that sent wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her body, pushing her pleasure higher and higher. “I don’t know if I could take more.”
He squeezed one of her round cheeks even as he pressed and rubbed, making her body shudder with longing. “You, Charlie, are meant for sin. Not only could you take it…” He trailed off as his lips reached the neckline of her dress, and he pushed it down, revealing a bit more of her skin. “You’d absolutely bloom under a man’s hands. By God, I want to see all of you. Kiss every inch…”
The very idea of his skin sliding against hers, his lips kissing her everywhere... Something inside her heaved and then shattered, her body cresting over and pleasure erupting inside her.
She gasped, clutching him, as a moan tore from her lips. He held her tight until she softened, going limp under his. “Raithe?”
He didn’t move. Rather, he nuzzled her neck, his fingers sliding from her backside up to the top of her back. “Charlie, you make the most beautiful noises.”
She combed her fingers through his hair. “Noises?” She gave her head a tiny shake. “That’s something you actually like?”
He chuckled into the crook of her neck. “The education continues.” Then he lifted his head and gave her a long lingering kiss. “I liked them very much.”
“Is it the same for a man? The finish?”
He grinned down at her. “The same. And different.”
She nibbled at her lip. “I am curious to know—”
“No,” he said, lifting up. “That is an education for the man who marries you.” How had he known what she would ask? She wanted to see more of Raithe. Feel more, and honestly, hear more.
“But this was for you?”
He grimaced as he looked down at her, now on his knees. “No. I stole this moment because…” He drew in a deep breath. “You are too tempting and I am not a good man. But the others…they will be for him.”
Him? What him? There was only one him that she could see right now and he looked down at her, dark and masculine in a way that made her ache all over again. “Why? Why does it have to be for another him?”
He frowned, the lines of his face growing deeper. “Because, we’ve already come too close to ruining you. Because you wish to marry and because I will never be married again.”
Surprise, like cold water, doused her. Again? That word hit her as she pushed up on her elbows. “I changed my mind. I need help with my stockings after all.”
His gaze slid down her body, scorching her with the heat of it. He stopped as he stared at her breasts. “Charlie.”
“Yes?” She gave him her most innocent smile. Because several things had occurred to her. He had secrets that she wished to hear. And the only way to wheedle them out of him was to be alone. And she wanted his hands on her skin. But another thought poked around the back of her mind. For a rake, he was unduly concerned with her reputation, with what he should and shouldn’t do. He’d said that she’d know the difference between a gentleman and a rake by his intentions, his caring.
She was beginning to wonder if her rake wasn’t a gentleman in disguise after all.
Putting on Charlie’s stockings was a form of exquisite torture. His teeth ground together and his cock throbbed as Raithe rolled the silky fabric up her body. Her feet were small and ridiculously pretty. He had the urge to kiss her arches, then nip his way up to her slender ankles, and over her shapely calves. He pictured pushing her skirts higher and kissing her just behind the knee, along the inside of her thighs. He squeezed his eyes shut even as his man parts throbbed again.
“There,” he growled out. “Done.”
She gave him an angelic smile, those pale pink lips parted to show her pearly white teeth. He wanted to kiss her again…starting with her lips and allowing his mouth to wander…everywhere.
“And my shoes? Can you put those on too?”
He let out a groan of dissent. He wished to topple her backward again and bury his face directly into… His hands stilled. Interesting, but he was far more curious about hearing her finish again than he was in taking his own pleasure.
That made him slide back on his heels, leaning further away.
She lifted a foot, still only clad in her stockings, and gave him a small push in the middle of his chest. “I take that as a no? You won’t help a lady with her shoes?”
What was she playing at? Did she know how close she was to being ravaged on a blanket in the sand? He’d make sure she enjoyed every minute of it but then what? Then, of course, he’d have to marry her.
To his shock, the idea did not fill him with the normal amount of dread nor did thinking of Jennifer make his chest ache. “If I put on your shoes, my lady, then I’m going to kiss my way up your leg.”
Her foot, which had been waving in front of him with a hypnotic sway, stilled. “Kiss your way up my leg?”
He’d balanced on the balls of his feet, still squatting and he rested his elbows on his knees, leaning toward her once again as he captured her foot in his hand, and did exactly as he’d imagined, planting a kiss on the arch of her foot. “I just sho
wed you one way a man might give a woman pleasure. Letting me kiss you there is very safe, we needn’t even remove your clothing. But the more dangerous the method becomes, the better it feels.”
She gasped in a breath and he roared with satisfaction as her knees fell a bit further apart. “Dangerous? Pleasurable?”
Raithe knew he skirted close to the line from which he would not return. He’d give up his vow, marry his little minx, and tuck her in his bed where he’d spend days, weeks, years of his life teaching her all about pleasure.
He closed his eyes, attempting to conjure up a picture of his Jennifer. But her outline was hazy. He could see her blonde hair, her innocent smile. Their love had been pure and sweet, but for the first time since her death, he wondered if there was another woman who could capture his heart. What if he had more love to give?
Jenni had been a good girl, always. Even in their nightly activities, she’d maintained a level of chasteness that had left him…wanting.
Never would she have proposed he teach her about rakes, or ask him to roll on her stockings, or allow her knees to fall apart at the very idea of his face in her most private of parts.
He’d gone too dark to marry another woman like Jenni. And perhaps that had always been his intent.
But a sweet little innocent desperate to be bad with just one man…well that was a different matter entirely. “Do you want me to show you?”
Her tongue darted out, dragging along her lips, and she trembled… But her eyes. Damn but her eyes dilated and her breath was coming out in short gasps.
“Charlie,” a feminine voice called. “Where are you?”
“Bloody hell,” he ground between his teeth, grabbing her slippers and pulling them onto her feet.
She let him put the first one on as she pulled on the second and then he pulled her up from the blanket. Bending down, he grabbed the large sheet up into his arms, nudging Charlie toward the entrance.
But she put a hand on his arm. “The pleasure you talked about.”
His insides jolted. Damn, he wanted more of this woman. “What about it?”
“Does it take my maidenhead?” she looked at him. “Do I risk a child?”
He tucked her hand into his elbow, “No and no, but honestly, it’s a bad idea. We are playing with fire and—”
“Why?” she asked. “Why are we playing with fire?”
“You already know. We’ve already done enough to ruin you and…” His voice trailed off as they made their way from the little hideaway.
Her large hazel eyes met his. “And you don’t wish to marry…again.”
Chapter Nine
Charlie knew that he was correct. They were indeed playing with fire. She just wasn’t certain she cared.
Well, she cared. She still wanted to marry, of course. But some of her other goals melted away in the flames between them. Attention from other men. Who cared? Not when she had the attention of this one.
Her worries over her brother’s marriage and her loneliness? Who could be lonely with Raithe pressed up against her chest?
She had to be careful, of course. She would not allow herself to be so damaged that she could not return. But Raithe, more than anything she’d tried in her past, was filling the void.
Bianca stood near the cave, her hand cupped to her mouth as though she were about to call again. “Oh. There you are.”
Behind her, her fiancé stood with his arms crossed. “I suggested we barge in, but Bianca has far more tact than me.”
Raithe stopped eyeing the other man as his jaw hardened and his spine straightened. “There was nothing to barge in on. We were just cleaning up from the picnic.”
“Picnic?” Craven’s frown grew menacing as his shaggy brows dropped low nearly covering his eyes. “Where’s the basket then?”
Charlie stepped forward. “I lost one of my stockings in the sand. We had to search for it.” She lifted a hand. “Turns out, it was under the blanket. Can you believe that?”
Craven pointed at Raithe. “You and I need to have a chat.”
“Chat?” Raithe lifted a single brow. “The word doesn’t suit you. You’ve never had a chat in your life.”
Craven charged forward. Leaner than Raithe, he was equally tall, and while his body was less thickly muscled, he exuded power that made Charlie step closer into Raithe’s side, tucking herself behind his massive arm.
Lord Craven stopped, dropping his arms. “You’ve nothing to fear, Charlie. I’d never hurt you. In fact, what Lord Balstead and I need to discuss is your protection.”
She swallowed, quite content to stay exactly where she was. “I am perfectly safe, Lord Craven. Thank you for your concern. In fact, Lord Balstead has a friend who is a widow. We were just discussing the possibility of her accompanying me to some of my social engagements this summer.”
“Really?” Bianca stepped up next to her fiancé. “How interesting.”
Craven did a leisurely assessment of Charlie and Raithe. “That seems reasonable enough. What is less clear is how comfortable Charlie is being tucked against you.”
“Damn it,” Raithe muttered more to himself but Charlie heard him.
“Lord Craven.” She stepped around Raithe, suddenly wishing to protect him as much as she’d wanted his protection moments before. She spread her hands out in front of her. “Please do not misunderstand.”
Craven crossed his arms once again. “I see what’s happening very clearly.”
Raithe’s hand came to her back. Just a light touch, but it made her shiver nonetheless. “Lord Craven, let us walk back up to the house together, provided the ladies are comfortable walking up without our assistance.”
“Charlie?” Bianca asked.
“I’ll be fine,” she answered as Raithe stepped away and started walking toward the bluff and the path that cut its way in a zigzagging pattern to the top.
Lord Craven stepped next to him and for two men who wished to talk, a heavy silence fell around them.
“Oh dear,” Charlie said as she watched them walk side by side.
“Indeed,” Bianca answered. “What are Lord Balstead’s intentions, do you know?” Then she threaded her arm through Charlie’s and tugged her to follow.
Charlie shook her head. “He doesn’t have any, as far as I know.”
Bianca looked over at her. “Forgive me, but that simply isn’t true. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’
“How is that?” Charlie turned toward Bianca, her breath holding as she waited for an answer.
“Like a starving man at a table full of food.” Bianca arched a slender brow. “I recognize the look because it’s similar to the one Chris would give me.”
That made Charlie pause and she stopped, her toes sinking into the sand. “I don’t think Lord Balstead will propose as Lord Craven did to you, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“No?” Bianca asked, winking. “You’d be surprised.”
She shook her head. “He’s been rather adamant that he isn’t the sort—”
“So was Lord Craven.” Bianca grinned. “Just keep that in mind.”
Charlie fell silent as she began walking again. Hope and need tingled along her skin. Could Bianca be right? If she were going to answer that question, she had a feeling that she needed to learn more about his past.
Raithe refused to be the first man to speak. He drew in a deep breath as Craven picked up the pace, climbing the hill with amazing speed. As they continued, he wasn’t certain he could talk even if he wanted to. But he’d keep up, even if his lungs burst.
“I’m going to tell you something,” Craven finally said, stopping on a particularly steep section.
Raithe tried to keep his breath even as he answered. “What?”
“I don’t like you,” the other man said, stepping closer. “Never have.”
Raithe realized he was downhill as Craven now stood over him looking rather hostile. “I’m not that fond of you either.”
Craven gave a quick nod. “Glad we got
that sorted.” Then his brows dropped even lower.
Raithe was beginning to understand that was a sign the man was going to say or do something aggressive. He moved uphill so that they were flush on the path.
Craven raised a finger. “I am watching you like a hawk.”
“I beg your pardon.”
Craven’s nose was only an inch from his. “I know you met Charlie in the garden.”
Bloody fucking Christ. “It’s not what you—”
“It’s exactly what I think.” He waved his finger. “Rathmore will see the two of you wed before you can blink.”
Raithe let out a small laugh. Just a single bark that held little humor. Not at the threat. Because he’d just realized part of him might be…relieved. It would take the choice out of his hands. He wouldn’t have to choose to break his vow he’d made at Jenni’s death and he’d have Charlie all to himself. “So why not do it then?”
“Because,” Craven harrumphed. “You’re a depraved son of a bitch and I like Charlie. She could have any man she wanted, why tie her to you?”
Why, indeed? “You say the sweetest things,” Balstead fired back, his lip curling over his teeth. “I’d punch most men for uttering such words.”
“Go ahead,” Craven answered, lifting his arms to the side. “I’m game.”
His fingers curled into fists. “I’m bigger than you.”
“I’m quicker,” Craven fired back. “And I’m in better shape. I heard you huffing up that hill.”
Raithe had to confess, most men would crumble under his fists, but not Craven. It would be a fair fight. His fingers itched to hit something and Craven’s face was as good a punching bag as any. Maybe that would help relieve the tension coiled within him. “I’d love to box you. In fact, it’s the best idea I’ve heard in days. But might I suggest we don’t do it on the side of a cliff?”
Craven smiled at that and his arms relaxed. “Not the worst point.”
Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances Page 51