by Reid, Stacy
Christopher prowled over to her and tugged at the loosely tied cravat and slid it from her neck.
“We'll be using this before the night is out,” he murmured with wicked sensuality.
Desire made her feel weak, and her fingers trembled as she attempted to take off her jacket. His touch halted her, and he took evident pleasure in removing the jacket, waistcoat, and shirt she wore.
Pippa did not know where she got the courage to stand before the duke, naked from the waist up. But the worship in his eyes as he beheld her, suppressed all anxiety she felt. His hands skimmed her breasts, and the jolt of heat that tore through her made her gasp breathily.
“You are ravishing,” he said with carnal reverence before kneeling, lifting her foot one by one and removing her boots.
“Stockings beneath your trousers, Miss Cavanaugh? How inventive.”
Then he peeled off the trousers, leaving her in said stockings alone. He slowly peered up at the length of her from his crouch. Her entire body blushed red, but she held herself still under his devouring gaze. She felt his eyes, like a physical touch, on every dip and curve of her body. She didn’t know what to expect, only that she craved his attention.
Christopher stood and tugged her into his arms. The night closed around them, holding their passion and secrets close. They came together, kissing even more passionately than before, and she could only clasp his shoulders and surrendered to his ravishment as he bore her down to the cushions and pillows on the carpeted floor.
“Pippa,” he groaned against her lips as if tortured.
“I want you…and tonight I will be wicked.” This was her choice. It was unlikely he or anyone would marry her, and that was fine, for Pippa knew enough of independence to believe she could forge a future for herself and flourish. Tonight she would choose a moment to remember for her entire life, memories of pleasure and not those of hurt and disappointment. And she would do it with a man she was falling irrevocably in love with.
“I do not want the risk of falling with a child…do you know how to prevent this?” she tried to sound worldly, but the blush that covered her entire body pulled a tender smile to his lips.
“I do.” Another kiss of violent tenderness before their lips parted. “I want to court you…do this properly…”
Her heart lurched inside, and she searched his gaze, unable to trust in this declaration. It was the passion, the lust speaking. She was the daughter of a disgraced baron, and he the duke of eminent power and respectability. The entire ton knew the kind of lady he was expected to marry, and it was not her. The false promises Mr. Nigel Williamsfield had made suddenly reared their head. “I have no expectations of you,” she said with frankness. Yet her heart screamed for more.
This was proving more dangerous than she’d anticipated.
Christopher pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips, and down to her neck. “Trust me,” he murmured along her jaw. “I would not ever willingly hurt you.”
She wanted to believe in his words so much her throat ached. “Why not?”
He cupped her cheeks, tipping her face up toward his. “Because you are already precious.”
Then he took her lips with carnal tenderness. Her body felt flushed and unfamiliar. A shiver of alarm and anticipation in equal measure worked through Pippa when he dragged his fingers along her stocking clad shin.
He trailed his fingers up the length of her leg, and over her silken stockings. Then he explored farther, letting his hand drift up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh to the wet heart of her.
“Oh!” she gasped at the delightful intimacy and then moaned when he parted her folds with one of his fingers.
Their gaze collided and she could not remove her eyes from his. All her senses became centered around the feather-light pressure against her sex. Then he slipped a finger into her, and she arched sharply off the ground.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, taking her lips with soft, soothing kisses.
Each stroke into her wet, stretched sex was a shock of exquisite pleasure, and Pippa whimpered craving more. The shivering sensation low in her stomach felt as if she were falling.
“How adventurous do you wish to be tonight?”
In answer, she leaned forward and put her lips against the naked flesh of his chest, parted her lips, and let her tongue swipe across his nipple. He groaned, and she almost purred. She peppered kisses up to his throat and chin. Pippa was unable to voice the wanton leanings in her heart. But then…she’d never been a coward. “I want endless kisses,” she murmured against his mouth, before kissing him deeply.
His mouth moved more urgently against hers in a kiss of exquisite tenderness, while his hands learned each dip and swell of her body. It was as if each place he touched caught fire and burned long after he had moved on. With nips in between kisses, he awoke the carnal creature within her. His hand glided over her breast, the lightest of touches, then his tongue curled around her nipple.
Pippa moaned weakly.
“How beautiful you are,” he murmured roughly. “I want to woo you…court you. I am falling into your smiles, your cleverness, your impropriety, and I do not want to stop, Miss Cavanaugh. I do not ever want to stop.”
She found it impossible to understand what he hoped to gain by his extraordinary declaration. “Woo me?”
A kiss was pressed against her lips. “Woo you…marry you.”
She did laugh then, startling them both. Pippa sobered, staring at him, not trusting the sweet feeling bursting in her heart. Oh, Christopher. His name whispered in her mind like a caress. A sweet, piquant longing struck her in the stomach, thick and undeniable. Dear God. She hesitated, in equal surprise and doubt. “You jest with my hopes and emotions.”
“No jesting," he murmured. "You make me feel, Pippa, a thousand sensations, hope, and dreams, and I can tell I am eager to experience a million more with you."
He had a look in his eyes that touched something cold way down inside of her and thawed it.
“I do not believe in sacrificing my happiness to suit my family’s notions of respectability,” he murmured, kissing her lips with such tenderness a lump rose in her throat. “You are not disreputable. You are kind and wonderful, improper and wanton, and I adore everything about you.”
“But we hardly know each other,” she said searching the face above hers, wondering if he could really feel the same desperate want she endured.
"Oh? Many people in society simply marry after a few weeks of walking in the park and dancing at a ball a few times. Or they marry because of wealth and connections. We've had much more than many alliances in society, and I daresay you like and want me as much as I do you."
“Heaven help me, but I do, Christopher!” She fused her lips with his, kissing him with all the building passion in her heart.
Heat raced from where his lips kissed along her cheek, down her nape and shoulder before moving slowly, with shudder-inducing sensations, down her spine. He shifted her slightly, so she lay on her stomach. He kissed along the delicate length of her spine, the curve of her buttocks.
“You have the lushest backside I’ve ever had the pleasure to see,” he murmured, biting down on the globes of her flesh. Pippa moaned arching up.
He caressed her hips in a long, soothing stroke, then peeled off the stockings until she was completely naked. He turned her around and spread her legs wide. Mortification and sensuality blushed through her body, and she stared at him helplessly. Christopher rose and removed the rest of his clothing until he was just as naked as Pippa.
“You are the beautiful one,” she said softly, amazed by the corded strength of his body, the chiseled elegance of each defined muscle. And that part of him was nothing like the pictures in that book she and Miranda had found. The duke was much longer, and thicker.
She felt intoxicated on the sheer wicked excitement of being with him like this.
He knelt between her thighs, and his lips curved in a dangerous smile. Her heart thundered, and anticipat
ion crested through her like a wave of fire. Her mind hazed in shock, and blistering desire when he lightly spanked her quim. The shock of it made her gasp even as the spike of heated lust had her arching her hips for more. Her heart began to race in heavy, erotic excitement as he spread her legs even wider.
“I knew you would be just as wicked,” he praised, leaning over, and pressing an approving kiss above her navel.
Pippa panted, sweat slicking her skin, unbearable need and heat burning her from the inside. Her thighs fell wider apart at his urgings, and his broad shoulders wedged between them. Before Pippa could question his intention, he dipped his head and kissed her in a place she never dreamed could be kissed until she’d seen his erotic drawings.
“Christopher!” she cried out his name, her head falling back as her hips tilted forward, giving him access to her wet, aching sex. The feel of his tongue against her folds, licking and nibbling at her nub of pleasure was agony and ecstasy all rolled into one, and she didn't want it ever to end. She was awash in pleasure, and his name as it released from her lips was a scream of bliss. Every lick, every kiss, nibble, and touch felt like sin. She felt close, so close, to a pleasure she couldn’t define.
His wicked, wicked lips latched onto her nub of pleasure, sucking mercilessly. Need as she’d never known before drew her taut, her hands fell into his thick hair and gripped, like something dark and wanton held her in an unrelenting grip. Sensation almost painful in its intensity peaked inside of Pippa. Her moan sounded raw and guttural as it gathered inside her like the most violent of storms, and she chased it, not afraid but hungering for the destruction she knew it would bring.
Unexpectedly it broke, and she shattered as ecstasy pulsed through her. The wailing, desperate cry that fell from her lips echoed in the library. While she was caught in the throes of unrelenting pleasure, he crawled over her, bracing himself on one elbow. His other hand slipped under her hips, arching her to him and with a surge of his hips, pushed his thick length in her wet, aching sex. The sharp pain was fleeting, but he held himself still, allowing her flesh to relax around his throbbing invasion.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead. “Marry me, Pippa,” he whispered as his fingers rasped over the tender flesh of her stomach.
The stark lines of his face were heightened by desire and something tender. Almost like…love. “Yes,” she said, despite the sudden pounding of doubt in her heart.
He held her wrists easily above her head, restraining her gently. Suddenly she could feel the phantom caress of a silken cravat and knew one day he would bind her, and she would surrender to all his wickedness.
Then he moved, withdrawing to thrust inside her with piercing deep strength. Pippa gasped, arching into the rough demands of his body. He released her hands, and she hugged him to her, clasping his shoulders and wrapping her legs high around his waist. He rode her, with raw passion, each driving stroke an exquisite burst of painful pleasure, each stroke edging Pippa toward the bright flames she could sense hovering.
Threads of reality dissolved beneath the lashing pleasure, and she clung to him, sobbing, with a desperate cry she surrendered to the sensation tearing through her body. And with a rough groan of deep satisfaction, he tumbled right along with her.
Chapter 14
Christopher kissed along Pippa’s body, tickling the underside of her breasts with playful nips. She peered at him with shyness, her gaze dark and slumberous with the slow awakening of her sensuality. An enchanting ripple of laughter broke from her, and he closed his eyes, delighting in the sound.
Who would have thought that a laugh could so bewitch him?
“I must still go to New York,” she said breathlessly. “My father is ill, and when I arrive, he may be recovered…or dead.”
He kissed her shoulder soothingly. “I will come with you.”
“That would be beyond improper!”
He came over her. "Not if we are man and wife. I'll procure a special license, and we'll marry before we depart."
The tentative hope in her eyes constricted his breath. There were still shadows of doubt as if she believed his words were inconstant. He reposed against the pillows and tucked her into his side. With a sigh, he said, "I swear on my honor I did not seduce Lady Miranda."
“I know,” she murmured, coasting a few of her fingers over his chest in an idle pattern.
“She told you?” he asked gruffly.
“I deduced the man I know could not be the one she described.”
Pleasure burst inside his chest. “In truth, I cannot recall an encounter with her. She could have been the lady that tried to trap me in the conservatory at Lady Peckerham’s ball, or the one who fainted in my arms at Lady Tunstall’s Picnic, or the one who invaded my rooms at Lady Burrell’s garden party. Many debutantes and even seasoned ladies have tried to compromise me into marriage.”
“And you’ve deftly extricated yourself,” she said with amusement. “I’m sorry you had to endure that. You deserve to be loved for the man you are, not your title.”
Like I do, lingered in the air, and he wondered why she did not say the words he longed to hear. Was it that she was still uncertain? Might it be that she did not regard him with the same sentiments? Christopher scowled at the unusual press of uncertainty he felt.
“I must go before the dawn breaks.”
He shifted, slipping her underneath him, and cradling his weight between her thighs. A flush of want dusted her skin, accentuating the beauty of her large gray eyes, high, delicate cheekbones, and sweetly pouting lips. Anticipation built along with a craving that surpassed even the need to be in her body. He wanted her to trust him and to love him.
“Christopher?”
“Do you love me?”
She jolted and then stilled. Pippa stared at him for an impossibly long time. He realized he was holding his breath as he awaited her answer.
“I fear I do,” she said softly, yet her voice still quivered with uncertainty.
“Let it not be a fear because you own my heart, Pippa. Let me own yours too.”
She fisted his hair in her hands and dragged his mouth against hers.
He shifted, slipping his hand between the juncture of her thighs, feeling her most intimate spot. Her quim was wet and hot. Holding her gaze, he fisted the length of his cock and nudged it at her entrance. His length hardened, every muscle taut, aching, desperate to be within her again. Her breathing fractured and the carnal creature within her peered up at him with sensual anticipation.
Christopher pushed into her tight, wet, sheath without releasing her from his gaze. Pippa’s urgent gasp blended with his groan as he sank to the hilt. He withdrew and snapped his hips deep and hard. She gave a little scream, a cry of pure pleasure, her muscles tightening even further over his cock.
His balls tightened at the incredible pleasure.
“Touch me. I love it when you touch me.” For when she did, it was as if she treasured each moment and would not let him go.
“Hold me, Pippa,” he murmured at her ear, nipping it gently. “This ride is going to be rough.”
She looped her hands around his neck and held on. And he made love with her, rough and also gentle, peppering her with praises. His Pippa responded wantonly to every touch, and illicit praises of the things he would eventually do with her—erotic spanking of her lush buttocks, nipples, and quim, mounting her from behind and fucking her deep and long, tying her to his bed with his cravat as he enslaved them to pleasure. Christopher did not hold back. Sharing his dark lustful heart with the woman he loved. And Pippa responded with burning flames of sensuality, screaming her release, dragging his seed from him long before he was ready.
Trembling from the shocking aftermath of such delirious pleasure, he twisted, so she tumbled atop him. Without a doubt, that had been the most spectacular climax of his life. She rested against his chest, panting heavily, desperately trying to catch her breath. He dragged her up until she was lying in the crook of his arm and lowered
his mouth to hers, tasting her deeply, and thoroughly.
When they broke apart, she giggled, and the pure joy in the sound pulled a smile to his lips. She curled into him to get comfortable, and a few moments later gentle snoring sounded. He held her to him, tighter than necessary. Christopher must remember to inform her she snored. He grinned, thinking how adorable her outrage would be, and then he too succumbed to the pull of sleep.
A couple of hours later, Christopher stretched, sliding his hand across the cushions and pillows searching for his Pippa. He snapped his eyes open when he did not encounter her curvy body. Scanning the semi-dark library, for the sun was valiantly peeking through the heavy drapes, he accepted that she had somehow slipped away while he slept.
Impressive. For their activities for the night had damn near killed him. They ate, they laughed, they even had some meaningful conversation other times silly and filled with laughter. But then they had made love three times, and he’d reminded himself of her innocence several times to slow the pangs of hunger which had claimed his soul. He had been insatiable with her, and she had matched his passion for passion. Never had he thought he would be this happy at the thought of marriage and starting a family? But he could see a future with Pippa, one bright and beautiful, filled with laughter, loving, and children. A rueful smile curved his lips before it spread into a full grin. She had said yes. Pippa Cavanaugh would be his duchess.
He pushed from the mound of cushions he had made into their bed some time through the night and tugged on his trousers. A quick glance at the clock perched on the mantle revealed it to be eight in the morning. The household would already be awake. How Pippa had snuck away without waking him, he had no damn idea.
A knock sounded on the door, and the handle was tested. Christopher walked over and turned the key, so the door could be open. His butler, Jenkins, entered, a look of comical dismay entering his eyes at the disarray before he masked his reaction like a properly trained butler should.