She should be ashamed. Eliza knew that. Proper ladies of good breeding did not debauch themselves in this manner. Ever. However she could not muster up the righteous indignation necessary to stop what was happening either.
From the moment she had first burst in upon Nicholas to ask him for his help in sorting out the mess with Stephen, she had been intrigued by what she saw beneath his banyan. The cut lines of his muscles had fascinated her and spending time in his presence, soaking in his pure masculinity day after day during their pretend courtship, had done nothing to cool that desire. If anything, it had simply made matters worse.
And Eliza was no longer a green young girl. She was eight and twenty. On the shelf. A spinster. If Nicholas did not bed her, no man would. Or she would eventually be forced to wed a man like Northrup, at least if Stephen decided it was necessary. For tonight she had decided that, unless Nicholas uncovered incontrovertible proof otherwise, she would have to accept that the man now living under the Framingham roof was indeed Stephen. His hair was long enough now that the last shred of doubt had been removed. Despite what every fiber of her being cried, this man was her brother.
"Stop thinking, Brat," Nicholas commanded as he mounted the last step and paused to readjust her weight as he reached the landing. "I want your mind clear when I finally have you beneath me. I want you to think of nothing but me." Then he ran the pad of his thumb beneath the globe of her arse and Eliza swore she could feel the heat of him even though all of the layers of her gown. "And the way I make you feel when I am inside of you."
His words should have shamed her but instead, they only inflamed her further. "When I am in your arms, Nick, you are all that I see." She probably should not have said that, but rather than take offense, he laughed - a deep and true sound from somewhere in his belly. It was the first time he had laughed like that, at least as far back as Eliza could remember.
"Ah, Brat, you do not mean that yet. But you will." He graced her with a wicked grin and continued to stride down the hallway before he kicked open the door to his bedchambers where he placed her almost reverently on the floor and locked the door behind them.
Eliza wanted to ask about the lack of servants in the home, about the silence that filled the corridors, as if everyone else in all of England had disappeared. But she didn't. For the moment that Nicholas lit a single lamp and then strode back across the room, shedding his topcoat in the process, her mouth went dry and she could not think at all.
Nicholas stood before her, his solid, hard body radiating a fiery heat that she felt down to her very toes. And when she looked up at him, she could read the passion etched upon his face. Passion for her. This was seduction. This was what it meant to truly desire a man. She had no illusions. Relations between them would last for as long as they lasted. He had made her no promises. Save one. Seduction. And that would be enough. It was more than she had ever dreamed of expecting.
"Nick," she whispered, using the most familiar form of his name that she possibly could, "kiss me. Please."
"With pleasure," he growled as he closed the short gap between them and pushed her against the door, pinning her body beneath his with his heavy weight.
He felt wonderful against her, all hard angles were she was soft curves. That was Eliza's first thought as she finally felt the magnificence that was Nicholas Rosemont press his body into hers. When he reached down to drag her arms above her head so that he might pin her wrists there, she whimpered, the change in position pressing her breasts more firmly into his chest, making them start to ache. But it was a delightful ache, one she well remembered from the night in the Evanston's home.
But the moment his lips touched hers, giving her the kiss that she didn't quite realize how much she had been longing for, all thoughts ceased. Instead, there was just Nicholas and the dark, musky smell of him surrounding her as his soft, warm lips brushed over hers.
The kiss was light at first, almost like the gossamer wings of a butterfly that one could never be quite certain was there at all. One brush. Then another, this one a bit firmer and more possessive than the last. The next kiss was soft and gentle, followed in quick order by one that was just firm enough to be demanding. Then he was gone again, Nicholas' lips playing hide and seek with hers.
She could feel the seductive warmth of his breath on her face and the way his nose traced the line of her jaw as his tongue followed the same path. Then he nuzzled the hollow of her ear and she forgot to breathe for a moment, only drawing in air when stars began to swim before her eyes. He tugged on the delicate lobe of her ear before tracing the shell with his tongue, making her knees quiver and something deep inside of her unfurl in languid motion.
Then Nicholas was back at her lips, sipping and feasting as if he could not get enough. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, urging her to open for him, she did so, being daring enough to trace the tip of his tongue with hers the moment he slid inside of her mouth. It was beyond heaven. It was beyond any pleasure she had ever known.
Her blood pounded in her veins and she felt her pulse leap into her throat as Nicholas nibbled at the column of her throat, tasting her and sampling her flesh as if she was a feast he wished to consume. Deep inside of her, desire unspiraled from where it had been locked up inside of her for so long, her body yearning for more, but learning the dance as she went. When Nicholas scored the soft skin on the underside of her jaw with his teeth, Eliza thought she might die of need where she stood.
Nicholas burned. For Eliza. There was simply no other way to put it. With her hands pinned above her, she was as submissive as she was ever likely to be for him, and that thought aroused him far more than any naked woman in his bed ever had. For Eliza was not by nature a submissive creature. She had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue when it suited her. But now, in this moment, she was surrendering to him and there was something very sweet indeed about it that only made him ache for her all the more.
"I need you," he whispered. For a brief moment, he wanted to call the words back, but soon found that he truly meant them. He did need her - for at the moment, she was the only woman he could imagine in his bed, soothing this ache in his cock and bringing him the desire he craved.
"I'm yours, Nick," Eliza whispered back softly, knowing that she was about to cross a line that could not be undone. Once he took her to his bed, she would no longer be an innocent. She would no longer have value to the men of the ton as a potential wife. And she did not care. She wanted this. She wanted Nicholas Rosemont and no other. If that doomed her and her heart for all of eternity, then so be it. She would be well satisfied along the way. Of that, she was certain.
In a single movement, Nicholas swept Eliza away from the door and into his arms, carrying her to his bed where he once more placed her on her feet at its side. Then, in a gesture that he could not explain, he sank to his knees and gently removed her slippers. First the right foot and then the left, revealing delicate toes that seemed almost impossibly fragile. For a woman as strong as Eliza, it was a curious paradox, but one that he found deliciously intriguing.
The moment Nicholas' strong, sure hands touched her feet, Eliza nearly swooned where she stood. Only reaching out to grasp the bedpost at her back saved her from collapsing in a heap at his feet. Though she had the curious sensation that if she fell, he would catch her. He would not allow her to come to harm.
"I want you naked, Izzy." Nicholas looked up at her through hooded eyes. Fire burned and glittered in their depths, the dark flare of passion making his eyes so dark they seemed black. It also ignited a matching passion inside of her as well and any remaining hesitation she felt was gone, slipping away as if it had never been at all.
Eliza arched an eyebrow, more confident now with a man than she had ever been. No more missish wallflower that blended into the background. She had The Bloody Duke on his knees before her. It was a moment she would relish. Even if she didn't quite know what she was doing just yet. "Then I suggest you undress me," she teased and was rewarded with hi
s hand on her leg, the hot, wide palm sliding over the silken stockings that covered her legs, each movement possessive, as he if owned her very soul. Which, in this moment, he most likely did.
With a quick flick of his fingers, her garters were undone and slowly, he rolled the silky fabric down her legs. First one and then the other, done with the utmost of care. When he finished, he slid his hands back up her legs, over the curve of her calf and then higher until he traced the muscle of her inner thigh with rough, blunt fingertips. So unlike what she would expect from a man of leisure. But then, this was Nicholas and he was a puzzle in so many way, even to her.
When he moved his hands higher to the band of her drawers, she drew in a shaky breath, her body shuddering, all of her senses alive and beginning to ache for more. This was seduction, just as she had asked for. And she reveled in every moment of it.
Eliza didn't protest when Nicholas tugged her drawers down, much to his surprise. There was a part of him that thought she just might change her mind the moment he stripped her of her stockings. It was an intimate act, far more intimate that many others he had performed. To fuck a woman was one thing, but to undress her? That was an act of trust and intimacy that was far more arousing than most men realized.
Gently, he eased her back onto the bed and slowly spread her thighs apart, kissing his way up her legs until she was quivering with need. When he pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss on her inner thigh, just below her most womanly of parts, she nearly flew off the bed but soft, whispered words calmed her until she whimpered for more, the sound sticking in her throat as if she was reluctant to surrender. She was reluctant. He knew she was. But he meant to have her - both her body and her complete and utter surrender before the night was at an end.
Rising, Nicholas shed his own clothes as quickly as he possibly could, not certain that Eliza was up to the task. Oh, he wanted her to undress him, certainly. But not tonight. Tonight was about her. Her seduction. Her pleasure. Her desire.
He is truly a god among men.
Eliza swallowed thickly as Nicholas shed his clothes before her, each piece of clothing gone revealing more and more of his hard, masculine body. His arms were well-muscled, just as she had expected, dusted in dark hair. There was something enticingly erotic about seeing a man's bare forearms in a way that she had not quite anticipated. She also didn't know if she could appreciate any part of him more than she was at this very moment. When he stripped off his lawn shirt, however, to reveal his well-defined chest, she thought that perhaps her answer to the previous question had changed.
Yes. She could, indeed, appreciate him more than she had mere moments ago.
When Nicholas moved on to his pants, Eliza's throat went dry. Strong, sure fingers undid the button at his waist and the fabric fell away to reveal long, lean hips and muscular legs. He radiated power and strength and something so indescribable that Eliza knew it had to be the very essence of him. Of what made him The Bloody Duke and Nicholas Rosemont all in one.
"Last chance to say no, Izzy." His words were a mere whisper in the dark, his body backlit by the flickering light of the wall sconces, making him appear larger than life. "Once I am completely naked, I will have you. There can be no other outcome."
It touched her that he was giving her one last chance to refuse him. But she didn't want to. She was so close to finally tasting passion. She could not come this far only to walk way now.
Her gaze flicked to the hard, long length of him, just barely concealed by his smalls. She had a feeling that he normally went without the undergarment but had worn them tonight only for her sake. Then she returned her eyes to his face and felt the burn of intensity as he looked at her.
"Take them off." She was never this commanding but something about Nicholas freed her, allowed her to be this person who would waltz at balls and sneak off for secret assignations with men. He allowed her to be daring. He allowed her to be strong enough to command even a man like him, and it felt positively decadent. "I want to see you, Nick." She licked her lips. "Please."
Nicholas nearly groaned as he watched her pretty pink tongue swipe along her upper lip before sliding back and forth over her teeth. He could imagine that tongue and those magnificent lips wrapped around his cock as well, but that was for another time. Not tonight.
Then, with his gaze still locked onto hers, he slid the last remaining stitch of fabric from his body until he was completely and gloriously naked before her. And he allowed her to drink her fill of him.
Nicholas Rosemont was not a man easily embarrassed. He had been naked in front of scores of women and he knew that he measured up well in comparison to other peers of the realm - better than most, in fact. He was also well aware that he had nothing to be ashamed of, his cock far longer and bigger than just about any man could claim. And he had heard plenty of stories about other men's sexual prowess over the years, more than he cared to, in truth.
But tonight, with Eliza gazing up at him with something akin to wonder in her lovely eyes, for the first time, he prayed that, in her eyes at least, he measured up. That he was everything she had hoped he would be.
"Magnificent." The single word was a whisper and a sigh together and when she said it, Nicholas couldn't help but smile.
"As I suspect you will be as well, Izzy." Then, the ache inside of him growing, he moved to the bed and pulled her up so that he could slip off her gown, stays, and chemise. It was easier than he had imagined, the silken fabric falling away easily until she was just as naked as he.
And then it was his turn to look. And look he did. For she was a goddess. Even if she did not know it. "Perfect. Just as I knew you would be."
Eliza could almost feel Nicholas' gaze burn her skin like liquid fire but she refused to look away, wanting to see his expression change as he looked at her nude form. But where she expected disappointment, she saw only raw, utterly male appreciation. And that made her bold.
For the first time in her life, Eliza felt beautiful. Wanted. Cherished. Desired. And that made her bolder still. When she reached for him, he came into her arms willingly, shifting their bodies on the bed so that they could lay together side by side. He was so much bigger than she was, his bed specially made to accommodate his height. She was afraid she would be swallowed up by it, but each time she felt herself beginning to flounder, he reached for her, pulling her back. Anchoring her to his side so that she would never become lost.
Then he was over her, using his body to worship hers. He kissed her breasts, teasing her nipples into taut peaks, just as he had that night in the retiring room. When she squirmed beneath him, silently begging for more, he bit down on the tips, making them almost painfully hard until he laved at them with his tongue, easing the burn and yet taking her desire for him higher at the same time.
His hands skimmed along her limbs, over and across her stomach, gently over her face and through her hair, learning every inch of her, memorizing every curve. Each time he retreated, she followed, practically begging for his touch, seeking more of him. His hands everywhere they could reach. Higher and higher he pushed her until she wasn't certain where she ended and he began.
Eliza was so responsive, even more so than Nicholas had hoped. And with each kiss upon her satiny skin, each caress over delectable curves, he felt his own desire grow until he was afraid that he might not be able to last - something he had not done since he was a mere lad of twelve with a local widow bent on teaching him all she knew about the art of sexual pleasure.
There was so much Nicholas wanted to do to her and with her, so many ways to pleasure Eliza that he was certain she had never imagined. But he also didn't want to rush her. She was a virgin, new to bedsport and he had no doubt that even after one tumble, she would be sore. But he still wanted her, wanted to be the man to teach her the secrets of pleasure and show her all of the ways there were for a man and a woman to come together.
And it started tonight. Now. No more waiting.
Slowly, Nicholas eased her legs apart so that he co
uld settle himself between them. He wanted to taste her breasts again, to worship at her most feminine core, lave at her hidden nub of pleasure and taste her intimately. But not yet. Every instinct he had told him that it was too soon. And he had survived this long as The Bloody Duke by listening to those very instincts. There was no reason to ignore them now.
"I need you, Izzy," he repeated again. "More than that, I want you." He slid his hands down over her breasts, relishing the way her lips appeared red and swollen from his kisses.
"Then take me, Nick." She reached up and caressed his arms, her hands - far smaller and more delicate than he remembered - tracing the lines of his muscles. "I am not afraid."
She might not be, but he was. Still, the throbbing in his cock could no longer be denied and with as much restraint as he possessed, he positioned himself at her entrance. He could feel her wetness and smell the muskiness of her body. She was ready for him. Still, just to be certain he dipped a finger inside of her and she nearly shot off the bed, her body clenching.
"Easy, Izz. I don't want to hurt you, though I know that I will. And I'm sorry for it." Truly, he was. But it would hurt just this once. Then, it would be done and he could spend the rest of the night pleasuring her until neither one of them could see clearly any longer.
And in truth, he wanted to savor the moment as well. He did not fuck without protection. Ever. But tonight, he wanted to savor the perfect softness of Eliza's body around his, feel the heat of her as she came, just as she would feel him spilling his seed into her as well. He wanted all of it, every sensation the art of pleasure had to offer. And he wanted it with her.
Growing restless, Eliza shifted her legs, drawing Nicholas ever closer, the thick, blunt tip of him just barely easing inside of her. "Now, Nick." She arched up, offering him her body. "Please. Oh, please! Don't make me wait."
The Secret Seduction of Lady Eliza Page 20