Wages of Sin (Regency Rebelles Book 1)

by Jen Yates

  But he’d take whatever the universe chose to grant him in this moment—whatever Lou chose to grant him.

  ‘Love me, Levi. Please don't be all honor—and—whatever it is. Papa has left me no choice. He shot Jess! And—and threatened to shoot Contessa. Oh—I wanted to kill him. I have to marry Lord Earnslaw—but—but I haven't made any vows to him yet. So while I can, I'm choosing to give myself to you. I choose to give you the gift of my virginity—then no one can ever take it from me again—for it will be yours—forevermore.’

  Yours forevermore.

  He was going to fucking cry. His eyes burned and his throat jammed.

  Honor and—whatever else he’d once thought important—couldn’t even gain a purchase on his mind now.

  Liberty in his arms. He’d not even question it.

  Could not. He would take her gift and treasure it for the rest of his days.

  ‘My well of—sense and honor—or whatever it is—has run dry. We’ll steal this one night and make it ours.’

  His words relaxed Liberty. Her fingers became more caressing than grasping and her body melted into his with a sigh.

  Reaching behind her, he locked the door, then turned back, swung her into his arms and started up the stairs.

  ‘I don’t care if Papa knows where I’ve been. He’s got what he wants. I deserve at least this much. We both do.’

  He was beyond arguing. Could not think of one reason to do so. For tonight, Lou would be his.

  And he would be hers.

  Somehow they would cram a lifetime of loving into a few stolen, illicit hours.

  Was that so much to ask from a lifetime?

  ‘I’ll see you home before dawn. This night will be ours, unsullied by anyone's knowledge or aggravation later. I’ll take all you allow me tonight, Lou, give you all that I am because—I'm only a man and I've dreamed of this for so long. Since that day in the lake, if I'm honest. Your Papa was right to separate us then, my love, but—not now. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight you’re mine.’

  He set her down in the living room upstairs. The floor was littered with wood shavings.

  ‘Sorry about the mess. I've been keeping busy.’

  He grabbed a broom and quickly swept the dust and shavings into a corner.

  ‘You made this furniture?’ she asked, indicating the table and four chairs against the wall.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what are you working on now? That's not another chair.’

  Would she think him presumptuous? Foolish?

  ‘A kitchen dresser. These are the drawer fronts.’

  ‘That's—beautiful.’ Her green eyes shone in the lamp light and he felt his heart swell with joy at her appreciation. ‘Roses for—’

  ‘—for love,’ he murmured, running his fingers over the wooden petals of the panel in the vice, checking for smoothness. ‘I just keep hoping that one day, you’ll be here with me and I want it to be as comfortable as I can make it—for you. And I have plans to build a proper house, at the bottom of the field perhaps—’

  ‘Oh Levi, we must never stop dreaming, never stop knowing the time will come when we can be together. I know—in here.’ She pressed a hand to her breasts, then began pulling off her gloves. ‘I’d be happy with you in a one-roomed cottage. Now please—’

  Laying her cloak and gloves over the back of one intricately carved chair she reached for the buttons of his shirt.

  The power of her touch burned the stiffening from his bones and almost took him to the floor. While another part of his anatomy hardened. Painfully. Best he got them to the bed. Soon.

  Catching her hands against his chest, he held them for a moment, then kissed her knuckles, softly, one at a time.

  ‘Come to bed with me, Lou,’ he whispered, and led her through to the bedroom.

  He’d never dared believe they would be granted so much.

  Placing the lantern on the dresser by the bed, he turned to survey her.

  Liberty Lou here in his bedchamber.

  He would paint the image indelibly on his mind.

  Then he turned to light the fire already set in the grate on the stone hearth, and reveled in the anticipation of lighting another on the blessed hearth of their love for one another.

  ***

  The unseasonal snow of earlier had melted, but the nights were bitter and the ground underfoot slushy. Liberty had scarcely noticed. Nothing short of a blizzard would have kept her from Levi this night.

  Perched on the edge of the bed, her eager fingers tearing at the front of the heavy woolen gown she’d worn under her cloak, she felt the precious power of the moment pour through her like warmed treacle, rich and wickedly sweet.

  Undressing for Levi.

  Her eyes lifted to where he crouched over the fire, and her mind leapt forward to the moment they would lie, naked, together.

  The heat in her veins coalesced at the juncture of her thighs and she almost moaned aloud.

  Lying with Levi.

  She would allow no other thought to violate her mind tonight.

  Would focus on every nuance, every sensation, every heartbeat they shared. Tonight was her gift to him.

  Loving Levi.

  The flames leapt in the hearth, highlighting the hard line of his jaw, and the straight blade of his nose. She could never tire of looking at him.

  He was perfect, from the shape of his head and the neatly barbered raven black curls to the wide powerful shoulders, hard narrow hips and well-muscled legs and arms.

  When he turned from the fire she'd slipped the gown from her shoulders and reveled in the flare of heat in his navy blue eyes as he took in the reality of her, half naked, on his bed.

  ‘Lou.’

  Her name on his lips was little more than a rasping whisper and his big powerful body trembled.

  The echoing tremor rolled through her being like an earthquake, tumbling every carefully erected edifice of defense and restraint with which she’d held the painful longings at bay.

  ‘I wish I could paint you, just like that,’ he rasped.

  She had no answer for him, could only drown helplessly in the midnight depths of his eyes.

  His chest swelled with the intake of breath, and then he reached for her. Pulling her to her feet, he let the gown fall to the floor.

  ‘You have nothing on under that gown?’

  The shock and approval in his voice released the tension and made her giggle. Usually it had been him with the wicked ideas.

  ‘You still have clothes on?’ she countered, tugging at his shirt and swiftly releasing it from his trousers.

  He pulled it over his head and her fingers were already working at the buttons of his falls. When he stood as naked as she, they clasped hands and stood silently surveying each other.

  ‘Tears, Lou?’ he asked softly, thumbing a runnel of moisture from her cheek.

  ‘Tears of joy for being here with you. I’ll not waste one single tear on sadness tonight.’

  Even though an unbearable grief relentlessly pounded the walls of her consciousness, she would not give in to it. That it would breach those crumbling barriers later, she had no doubt.

  But she would hold it at bay tonight, whatever the cost.

  This one night she would claim.

  For herself and this man who owned her soul.

  Tonight they would live their most beautiful fantasy yet.

  She could only pray it would be enough to sustain them through the lonely, hungry years ahead.

  His head lowered and then his lips, warm and firm, joined with hers and she forgot all else, even breathing, in the power of their togetherness. Her hands instinctively molded to the hard, curved musculature of his chest, the texture and shape of him beneath her fingertips sending a susurration of heated energy through her blood.

  Being with him like this might be forbidden, but it could never feel wrong.

  His big capable hands molded the flesh on her shoulders, down her back, curving into her waist and settling about her b
ackside, pulling her in against the swollen ridge of his arousal.

  How precious it was that she did this to him, that he wanted her with the same hungry desperation she desired him.

  ‘Now, Levi, please. Love me, make me yours. In my heart I’ll always, only ever, be yours.’

  He lifted her against his body and she wrapped her legs about his hips and clung. Pressing wild kisses to his mouth, nose and eyes, she then buried her mouth into the softness at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He was big and hard, and yet parts of him were soft as old linen.

  She swiped at his skin with her tongue and he groaned, the sound vibrating against her mouth.

  ‘Levi, please.’

  Finally he laid her on the bed, but instead of following her down, he stood back to drink in the picture she made, as if memorizing it.

  She was no less enthralled with the bared perfection of him, with his manhood straining hungrily upwards against his hard, flat belly.

  Levi Longfellow was all man—her man.

  Shivers of anticipation runneled through her body.

  She raised her arms to him and at last he came down into them.

  ‘You are so beautiful, Lou, and I love you to the point of insanity. I am at once appalled that you took the risk of coming here again—and so very, very happy that you did.’

  Then no more words were possible. His mouth took hers in a deep tangling of tongues and his hands closed gently over her breasts, kneading and teasing heatedly at the nipples until she was a writhing, moaning mess of demand and entreaty.

  When his mouth closed about one nipple and began a deep rhythmic suckling, arrows of fire flamed through her veins to set her core alight.

  Liberty clutched his hair, holding his head to her breast, unable to control the needy, incoherent sounds scorching up from her throat.

  ‘Levi, please—’

  ‘You taste—amazing, Lou. I can't get enough of you. And I'm not going to take you—’

  Desperation jolted to her bones.

  ‘You are! Please Levi—I want—’

  ‘—until you are screaming for me.’

  ‘O—oh.’

  Breath sighed out of her with relief.

  His mouth moved to her other breast and insistent fingers pressed through the curls of her mound into where she burned for his touch. Finding the sensitive spot that sent her blood rioting through her body, he teased and taunted until she couldn't control the scream of release slashing through her like wildfire over a dry hay field.

  Then he was kneeling between her legs, pushing her knees wider and covering her body with his. His mouth took hers in a hungry delving at the same time as his penis pressed urgently into her, her sensitive opening desperate to receive him.

  Thrusting her hips upwards she mewled and hissed against his lips.

  ‘Now, please, Levi, take me now.’

  ‘I don't want to hurt you, Lou.’

  ‘I want you to hurt me. I want you to take me. If it hurts, it is yours, I give it to you. Now!’

  She thrust up just as Levi lost the battle for restraint, and pressed forward. Seated deep within her body, he held still, letting her accept and breathe through the flash of pain that jolted through her.

  Letting them both savor the wonder of the moment.

  Savor the reality of being one.

  One with Levi.

  ‘You’re mine, Lou. Now and always. No matter what—or who—comes after. No one can take this from us. You are mine and I am yours.’

  ‘You are mine and I am yours,’ she repeated with the reverence of a vow, her voice softly husky and breathless.

  Slowly he withdrew, then thrust again and Liberty let out a deep gasping cry.

  ‘I’m yours. Dear God, Levi, love me.’

  ‘I love you, Lou,’ he ground out again, and began pumping and thrusting with the power and abandon of instinct.

  Liberty met his every deep return with a rising of her hips and the clenching of her inner muscles.

  She was drowning in bliss. His at last.

  When her breath became choppy and she could no longer hold in the mewling pleas for completion, he gave over all restraint, loving her with a power, a passion, a possession that would bind their souls forever, regardless where their bodies were.

  Whatever the future held, they would have this one bright and perfect memory.

  ***

  ‘Wake up, Liberty Lou—Lou!’

  Liberty opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. Levi’s voice had been so clear in her dream—

  Not a dream!

  Levi! How could she have slept through one minute of this only night she would have in his arms?

  ‘I fell asleep. What time do you think it is?’

  ‘I’ll go and see.’

  He left the bed and she stared hard into the darkness trying to follow his shadow. This is what it would be like as his wife, waking in his bed, in his arms. Knowing when he left her he’d return.

  ‘It’s just after three,’ he said, climbing beneath the covers and snuggling her body close. ‘I should probably take you home—’

  The panic was back, that terrible crashing of leaden energy into the very pit of her stomach she’d felt when she’d thought he meant to deny them the fullness of this one night.

  ‘Not yet. I’m not ready to go yet—’

  ‘You’ll never be ready, Lou. But—’

  Desperately, she turned her body into his.

  ‘Love me. One more time. God knows when I will even see you again.’

  Pulling his head down, she pressed hot desperate kisses to every inch of his face, the deep hollow of his throat and finally closed her mouth over one flat nipple, teasing it with her tongue, imprinting the sensation of it on her memory.

  ‘Lou.’ His groan of need drew her on, laving his other nipple and suckling until he gripped her hand and lifted her away. ‘Any more of that and I’ll want you again just as badly as the first time. Are you sure, Lou? You might be too sore to take me again.’

  ‘I don’t care. I need you, Levi. I want to—love you—with my mouth—I want to remember—everything.’

  Gliding her hands down the hard plane of his belly, she followed with her mouth until her fingers closed over the rigidity of his arousal and he hissed out a breath in a way she’d come to recognize as his expression of deep need and appreciation.

  He loved what she was doing—and wanted more. They might only have spent two nights together, but already she had a precious store of sensual memories, intimate knowledge.

  The delicious masculine taste of him, the hot musky scent of their love-making, the harsh involuntary sounds he made in response to her mouth and hands on his body, the smooth-rough sensation of his skin and hair beneath her fingertips, the vision of him rising above her, face deeply intent on both their pleasure.

  This was the treasure she’d stolen for herself and she could never regret it. At least she knew—they knew—the glory of coming together in this most intimate of acts. Nothing could obliterate the memories, no one would even know she held them.

  No one but her and Levi.

  ‘I love you,’ she said, ‘more than I can ever explain.’

  Her mouth closed over him, licking and sucking until he was swearing and gasping and pulling her upwards.

  ‘Ride me, Lou. Take what you want of me.’

  She climbed over his hips and sat astride him, her body open and ready.

  His hands gripped her thighs and slid inwards, his thumbs teasing through her curls to find her wet and ready again.

  She was always ready for him. He made her a wanton.

  Rising up, she gripped his penis and held it to her entrance, then sank slowly down on him. She was tender, but he felt so good, so right, filling her, loving her.

  Slowly, she began a lift and drop motion, his hands at her hips, guiding her, keeping the rhythm steady when she would have raced wildly to the climax.

  ‘I want this to last forever, Lou. You were made t
o be with me—like this. You feel—incredible. Dammit! Words are so inadequate. Jesus—’

  He rolled her to her back and rose above her, pounding his body into hers with a driving force he seemed powerless to temper. The wild flowering of passion only he had ever wrought in her, lifted her hips to meet his every thrust and as he rammed home one last time with a harsh cry of release, Liberty let the wildflower unfurl in a spectacular burst of color, scent and sound she would savor in her dreams—always.

  ‘I love you, Levi.’

  ‘Love you, Lou. I’ll wait. As long as it takes. Our time will come.’

  ***

  Chapter 6.

  My Lady. Wake up.’

  ‘Go away, Goldie. I just want to sleep.’

  ‘What have you done, my Lady? Your cloak and your boots are covered with mud. Is there anything else I need to know and take care of? I'm guessing there's a good—or more likely bad—reason you're still asleep at nine when you are always up before seven?’

  Liberty rolled over with a groan, parts of her body complaining sharply. She just wanted to stay buried in her bed, dreaming, remembering.

  Levi—a shuddering sigh rippled through her and she tried to disguise it as a cough.

  Goldie would be an ally, but she'd be shocked—and maybe disapproving—if she knew the full extent of how bad Liberty had been last night.

  ‘A very good reason, Goldie, but I will not speak of it. Please just clean my things and say nothing. And let me sleep a bit longer. Until luncheon? There's nothing I need to do before then. You can say I'm feeling—unwell. No one could be surprised at that.’

  ‘Lord Earnslaw and his family are expected today.’

  ‘All the more reason for me to be ill.’

  ‘Oh, Lady Liberty, can you not reconcile yourself? Lord Earnslaw seems a very pleasant gentleman, even if he is quite old—and even that could be viewed as an advantage—’

  ‘Yes, Goldie.’ Liberty flung an arm across her eyes. ‘You’re right. Marrying an old man who could reasonably be expected to die soon means I’ll have my freedom—sooner than if he'd been a younger more personable man.’ She dropped her arm aside and looked up at her maid. ‘That’s how I’ve decided to reconcile with the matter. This marriage will eventually provide me the freedom to marry Levi. Once I'm a widow Papa will have no jurisdiction over me.’