Sinfully Delectable (Regency Four Book 2)

by Virginia Taylor

  She finally understood that she desperately wanted to be in his arms. He was far more than an experiment. Having him inside her would ease the ache that his presence had begun to cause.

  She moved across, lay her head on his chest and began to work at the fastening of his breeches.

  Eden clapped his fingers over hers. “Too late. You’ve lost your chance.” With that he turned into her. “A gentleman never asks twice.”

  “If you were a gentleman you wouldn’t be in my bed.” Her cheek rested against his shoulder.

  “I think it’s time I showed you what a gentleman does when a lady doesn’t push him out.”

  “You’ve had experience with that?”

  Without answering, he pushed her flat on her back and sat over her thighs, staring down at her with a smile on his wonderful face. “It’s time for you to learn a lesson about your stubbornness.”

  “I was not unwilling, but just a trifle slow.”

  He shook his head. “If you’d been willing I would be lacking my breeches. As it is, I’m straining at the post.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth across hers, which effectively stopped her answering. Not that she wanted to.

  His kiss not only stopped her words, but her breath. She tried to keep his interest on her lips but he found her eyes, her nose, and her forehead while she chased his kisses with her mouth, her heart thundering in her chest. Her hands rested on either side of his face. If he stopped his teasing she would die. She desperately needed him to keep doing something, anything.

  His mouth finally moved to her neck, her shoulders, her breastbone and, after pushing aside her nightgown, her breasts. While she was experiencing the deliciously sinful tug of his mouth on her nipple, she pressed her hand on the back of his head, but she couldn’t prevent him from moving farther down and down until the fabric of her nightgown could take no longer take the strain.

  He sat up on her thighs again, and began to work her nightgown up her body. With cooperation from her, he lifted the silk over her head, and gazed down at her. She imagined that she would be embarrassed about being seen naked, but his avid gaze said she had nothing to be embarrassed about. He leaned down and kissed her navel, which caused a huff of breath to leave her chest. While she was covering her sensitive nipples with her palms, he shifted down her body.

  She hoped he would cause havoc on her with his fingers as he had in the orchard, but Eden had more wicked ideas. He moved even lower and bent his head to kiss her between her legs. Her excitement became clinical at that point. She wavered between shock and delight, holding her breath, scarcely moving. Then the top of his head dipped. She saw him lift her knees, and saw him settle his face there.

  Her belly clenched. “Is this a normal thing to do?” she asked, grasping a handful of his hair and letting the silk gather between her fingers.

  “It’s shocking, Delly, only done by deviants.”

  After his dry comment, she knew she had shown her ignorance yet again. She let her knees flatten against the sheets, and she enjoyed the moment, which turned out to be soothing while exciting, but not as earth-shattering as his hard fingers had been. However, he had somehow softened her body and her muscles had turned to ribbons, holding her together, but lax.

  He sat back on his knees and stared at her. “Now you are a fallen woman.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve just tripped a little.”

  One side of his mouth twitched. “Do you think you can now bring yourself to touch me?”

  “Do you mean, remove your breeches? I can’t. I have no energy at the moment.”

  He heaved a sigh. “No more kisses for you, then.” He folded his arms across his divine chest.

  She reconsidered her words. “If I am allowed to touch you, I will.”

  His neck tensed and he didn’t move. She saw him consider. “You’re allowed to touch me.”

  She reached out a lazy hand, glad she had the opportunity, at last, to see him as he had seen her. With one set of fingers, she fumbled with his buttons, amusing herself by saying, “Oh, dear, this is difficult. I’m not sure ...”

  He pushed her hand away and opened his own flap, which revealed nothing because he had more buttons on the other side. When his breeches could have been slid off his slim hips, he covered her, revealing nothing. However, a firm fleshy part of him had tumbled into the area between her legs and settled as a thick immovable object. “Oops,” he said.

  “Yes, I know. This is teasing Della day,” she said with mock resignation, unable to hide the delight in her voice.

  “You deserve it, after all the times you have rubbed yourself against me, knowing full well what happens to me when you do.”

  Surprised, she stared at him, more than pleased to hear that she hardened him. She only knew that she shortened his breath and that he moved away from her when she stood too close to him. “You’re wrong, partly.”

  “Which part is wrong?”

  “I didn’t know that you got hard. I thought more in the line of kissing.”

  “So, then you kissed me.”

  “Who wouldn’t, Eden? The miracle is that I took so long to do so. Do you think that you ever would have kissed me? No, you wouldn’t. You have a moral code that I don’t understand.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.” His voice sounded a little more thoughtful, and somewhat firmer.

  Before she had the time to question him, he relaxed his arms and settled on top of her. His mouth took hers in a far from lazy kiss. Before she knew she wanted to, she was desperately returning his kisses, one for one. Her hands tangled in his hair and her body clung to his. His fingers continued to cause her to wriggle about, wanting more, wanting less, agitating her until she could barely breathe. She chased his kisses, growing more frantic by the second, slowly growing aware that he was easing his fingers inside her. She wanted to pull back, but his thumb found her pleasure spot again.

  Ecstasy overtook her every thought until he dropped his body onto hers, and replaced his fingers with himself. Larger, less intrusive, his male part at first soothed her hot wetness. She experienced a stretch inside that almost hurt, but didn’t quite, and then he slowly entering a little further. He carefully withdrew before he had moved inside too far, and entered again, and again, and again, until she began to move against him.

  Somehow she needed more and more, and she arched, her fingers clenching into the flesh of his tightening muscles, wanting him to use her harder. He cupped her buttocks and lifted her hips higher while she tightened her legs around his waist, rocking into him every time he plunged. She needed more and more, but he swelled inside her and, swearing succinctly, he stopped moving and quickly withdrew. He held himself as he had in the orchard, while he rolled out of bed.

  He kept his back to her for a while until he finally sat beside her on the mattress. She could hear him breathing.

  “It’s done, now, isn’t it?” she said, sleepily. “I’m no longer a virgin.”

  “You are no longer a virgin.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  He lay on his back beside her. The candle had long since snuffed out. With the curtains closed, he was a mere outline. He leaned over her and took her into his arms. Feeling loved and safe, she snuggled into him and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Eden took Della twice more that night and even when the early morning sun lit her face, she seemed willing. Each time he took her a small part of his heart was torn off. Each time he took her, she grew bolder. He saw himself as a man-whore, only fit for pleasure. Each time he hoped she would say the words he longed to hear. He had the idea that he could pound her into the mattress, and she still wouldn’t say she loved him, or that she wanted to marry him.

  Finally, before the maids began their morning routines, he slid out the bed and dressed quickly, leaving the sheets to tell the story of Della’s night. He hadn’t spilled inside her and, in fact, had only released twice. This night was meant to be for her, not for him, but he knew he wasn’t nob
le at all. He wanted her love. He’d merely taken her body.

  During the day, the housekeeper appeared, pale and wan, but insisting she could resume her duties. His mother sent her to relieve Della and continued running the house. Eden suspected she had begun to enjoy the job she had always refused to consider supervising.

  However, Della’s help was no now longer required. He finally found her standing in the library, putting books back on the shelf. Standing in the doorway, aware of the parlor maid’s presence in the hallway, he thanked Della formally, the least he could do, after her kindness to his sister, who had relied on her to perform the most menial tasks.

  She nodded politely. “Mary is a dear girl. I’m so glad she recovered with no ill effects, but since I’m no longer needed here, I’ll be packed in a trice. I’m surprised Mama let me stay so long.”

  He stepped inside the room, reaching out to take her hand, meaning to hold her in his arms, but she tilted her eyebrows in query. No one could see inside the library and she didn’t need to be discreet. Last night he had bedded her, in the hope of wedding her. Today he was no more special than any other of her suitors—no more special to her than a neighbor. She was back to seeing him as she always had. An amusement, someone to pass the time with, and no more. His chest deflated. He didn’t think he was a vain man, but he had never had a lover who had used him so casually, as if he could be ordered to perform and then tossed a lead coin in payment.

  “I hope you will call on me soon,” she said, walking past him.

  He baulked. “If I can find the time, of course. You’ve been very kind to my family and I’m grateful to you.”

  She stopped, turned, drew her eyebrows together, frowned at him, and then turned and left the room.

  He had one last card, which he didn’t mean to play prematurely. The summer recess for parliament was almost over, meaning he had to be back in London within the next month. If her family remained in the country, he would be unable to call on her, and she would know why. Given her current attitude, she wouldn’t mind in the least.

  He went up to her room where not a hint of last night’s activity could be seen through the open door. Her valise sat on the bed and she stood dumping her gowns, crushing one on top of the other. “Would you like a maid to help you to pack?”

  She threw a gown at his head. He stepped inside and shut the door, untangling himself from the fabric. “I’m not about to desert you, Della, if that’s what you are thinking,” he said, using an offended tone. “You can move into a house I own on Dover Street in London, and I can visit you regularly. I haven’t had time to redecorate since the last tenant left, but that will give you a chance to choose the furnishings you like.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” she said crossly.

  Using his puzzled expression, he leaned his back on the door. “Did you want last night to be a single encounter?”

  She planted her fists on her hips and turned to him. “I thought we would be lovers.”

  He spread his hands and lifted his shoulders. “Think of the practicalities for a moment. Where would we meet? When? You are a single woman. You live with your parents. I can’t pop over to your house and run you up to your bedroom. If you want to be my lover, you will have to be my mistress.” He managed a mournful sigh. “I couldn’t leave you unsupported and I am sure your parents wouldn’t support you in such an irregular lifestyle. I will. When we are tired of one another, I’ll make the usual settlement on you.” He caught the vase she threw at him. “That would be a ‘no?’”

  “I’m betrothed to you, for heaven’s sake. You can call on me any time and I can meet you in the orchard.”

  “Where you expect to have me between your knees in the dirt? Or would I need to bring a blanket?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Eden.” Her eyes narrowed. Clearly the picture of them rutting under the trees didn’t appeal to her as much as she had imagined.

  “I’ll be back in town soon, and so will you,” he said, reasonably.

  “But you’re my betrothed.” Her jaw tightened. “I am able to meet you in town.”

  “My dear, I am not a fan of furtive meetings. I like my little comforts but I gave up my mistress for you. If you are not about to replace her, I will need to find another.”

  “Why did I never know how disgusting you are?”

  “That’s not what you said last night.” He tried a smug grin. The next shoe hit him on the shoulder. He fought not to grab her into his arms, and run his hands soothingly over her back, but if he gave in, he would lose his only chance.

  “You don’t need to escort me home. A groom will do. My parents are bound to believe that everyone here is too busy to drop me off. And don’t bother apologizing for your disgraceful behavior.”

  He nodded as if he had been wounded. “I’ll find a groom,” he said meekly as he turned to open the door. Silence followed him all the way to the stables. He’d never been a gambler, but perhaps he should have been. He could add the worth of the cards people had in their hands faster than any players.

  He hoped his calculations this time would give him the winning hand.

  * * * *

  In her own family, Adelita Hayden was the youngest, the most persistent, the most creative, and the only one prepared to take risks. She would challenge anyone’s authority. Although she seemed to be rebellious, she simply wanted to be independent.

  She realized she had been more indulged than Raimond, her brother, but having the company of younger people was a treat for her when, in her family, she was considered to be a spoilt little miss. Being with the Thorntons for a week, had been a treat despite the late nights, the lack of sleep, and the odd fear now and then that Mary might not recover.

  She hadn’t once thought that she would lose Eden. And now she had, through her own obstinacy. She’d come back from Thornton Place last week righteous and annoyed. After all, she had given her precious virginity to Eden. The third time she mentioned to herself her great sacrifice while stalking through the house, finding fault with everyone and everything, she realized that her virginity wasn’t anything real.

  She had given an imagined purity to Eden, and in the giving, she had taken from him the most amazing experience in her life. He had given himself to her, unstintingly. He had been patient, kind, loving, and generous.

  In his dealings with her, he had always been the same. He had accepted without question that he was betrothed to her. His chances with another woman could have been dashed because of that, but he hadn’t remonstrated. Not he. Eden was all that was good and noble. His family adored him and he had never let them down. She was the only one who thought he’d been selfishly taking his time in London when he was most needed in Kent, but his sister hadn’t been ill when he’d left.

  The little Della had done for his family didn’t match up to his unstinting support of them. She also had the idea that he had made sure she didn’t have his child, which she hadn’t considered. Why? Had she thought she could produce a baby without her parents being shamed? Without shaming herself? Without the doyens of society tittering behind their fans?

  If she’d thought about a pregnancy at all, she would have married Eden ... except he had never asked her. And now he had made clear that he didn’t intend to do so. She could make him sorry, of course. She could tell her parents about their illicit night together in his house. The way she could tell the story would make him seem like a desperate cad, taking advantage of his neighbor’s daughter who had arrived to nobly save his sister’s life. She could as easily ruin him as he had decided he could ruin her by making her his mistress.

  Of course, her parents would die of shame if she did, and she would rather die of shame than do so. She dragged out her music sheet and began to play. Her technique was as flat as her mood, though she played tunelessly for at least an hour before Papa opened the door.

  “Stop that noise, Della, please. That confounded dirge is giving your mother a headache.”

  Della stood, f
ocusing on his face. “I was thinking perhaps we should go to London.”

  “And leave your precious Eden? Why would you want to do that?”

  “He’ll be there soon enough.” She heaved sigh. “In the meantime, I’m missing Winsome and Rose.”

  Papa examined her expression and nodded curtly. “I’ll discuss this with your mother, but knowing how much she dislikes being away from town, I’m sure she will be glad you are amenable.”

  Three days later, Della took up residence in the townhouse with her parents.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Eden heard, via his mother, that the Haydens had gone back to London. Since Della hadn’t communicated with him since she had left his house, he presumed she was still punishing him. However, she was his betrothed until she cried off. Although he was due to leave the next day, he changed his plans. He would not let her think he was chasing her.

  After arriving in London over a week later, he spent his first night in his comfortable town house. The next morning he took a ride in Hyde Park, to meet most of the people he knew, and catch up with the latest gossip. The first person he met on the riding path was Miss Rose Darnell, a friend of Della’s and possibly the most beautiful debutante of the past season, though still unmarried.

  She beckoned him over to her carriage, where she sat with her mother, who also smiled at him. Mothers always did, because mothers considered him a good catch and completely harmless. “I want to congratulate you on snagging Della,” Rose said, with an enormous smile on her face. Her hair was the same color as his, pale yellow. He wished she wouldn’t wear pink. The color made her look insipid and he knew that beneath her pleasing exterior, she was rather bright.