He accepted her fully as she was. With him, she didn’t need a title, a ladyship. It was enough that she ran her bookshop and taught others how to read. With him, she didn’t have to put on airs or select the proper utensil for whatever delicacy had been placed upon her plate. For him, she could spread her thighs and let him have his way with her.
And what a wonderful way it was. Taking in the entire glorious length of him, his bare back, buttocks, and legs only heightened her own pleasure. Removing one hand from her breast, she threaded her fingers through his hair, circling them over his scalp. She had an urge to close her eyes, to do nothing but feel, but didn’t want to give up one moment of gazing on him, wanted memories of every aspect of their lovemaking. She would remember these bittersweet moments until she drew her last breath.
Then the pleasure increased, became a vortex of sensations swirling within her, tightening every muscle, collapsing until she was aware of little except his mouth working its magic, as though the little bud was a toffee he was savoring with licks, strokes, sucks. Her other hand was suddenly also in his hair, holding him there as her legs tightened their hold, as her thighs trembled.
“Oh God. Oh God.” The climax ripped through her, untethering her from the world around her until she was soaring, falling into the depths of his gaze until she was lost—and then found.
Slowly, provocatively, never taking his eyes from hers, he prowled up the short length of her and took her mouth. She tasted her own saltiness on his tongue, inhaled her musty aroma along his bristled jaw.
Rising up, he gently probed her, and she wound herself more tightly around him. When he plunged deep, she sighed with the satisfaction of having him fill her once again, completely, absolutely. He didn’t look away. She couldn’t. She wanted to memorize every expression that crossed his features. He pounded into her with vigor and purpose.
She met him thrust for thrust, loving the way their bodies moved in tandem, in awe of the deeply binding intimacy. At that moment, he was hers, and she was his. Nothing would ever sever this bond, nothing would ever diminish it. She was capturing this moment in time so nothing and no one could ever take it from her.
Never again would she experience this closeness. Never again would she revel in such familiarity. Her heart was swelling to such an extent she thought it might burst through her chest. She loved this man, with all that she was, with all that she would ever be.
Tears welled in her eyes.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, through clenched teeth, his breathing harsh and tortured.
“No. Never.” I love you. I love you. I love you. I always will.
Within her, sensations once again began to mount—
Then she was soaring into the heavens.
With a grunt, he thrust twice more, before collapsing on top of her, his arms closing around her as he pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck.
She’d never known such bliss for having had this . . . or such sorrow at knowing she’d never have him again.
He should have withdrawn, should have spilled his seed elsewhere. If he’d gotten her with child, he would know no regrets because tonight she had become his fully and completely and he’d become hers. She’d brought him to his knees. Even though he hadn’t been standing, she’d managed it all the same.
With her nestled against his side, his finger slowly drawing circles along her spine, he needed to tell her who he was, but not now. Not while she lay replete in his arms. He wanted to find a romantic way to break the news to her. Perhaps he’d take her for a ride in a hot air balloon. Up in the heavens, with the world at her feet, he would reveal the truth and promise her that even when she was on solid ground, he would lay the world at her feet. Anything at all that she wanted would be hers for the taking.
He loved her. The thought of once again falling should have terrified him, should have given him pause. Instead, he knew that nothing in his life had ever felt so right. In spite of his resistance, the hardening of his heart, love had found him. This remarkable woman had broken through the barriers, destroyed his defenses, and won him over.
Every word she voiced came from the depths of her soul. He’d never known anyone as open and honest. Not only with her words, but with her body as well. He’d never known all the aspects of any woman as thoroughly as he knew every facet of her. This woman in his embrace held nothing back, kept nothing hidden. He could only hope that she would understand why he’d kept a portion of himself hidden from her.
In the beginning it had been because he wanted an escape from Society. As he’d come to know her, the right time had never arrived. On the morrow, he would make it arrive.
Dragging his hand down her back, he cupped her bottom. “I already want you again.” His other hand joining the first, grabbing her hips, he urged her onto him, straddling him. Then he cradled her face. “I think I shall always want you again.”
She traced her fingers over his jaw, his lips, his nose, his forehead with such deliberation that it seemed she was striving to memorize every line, dip, curve, and hollow. “And I shall always want you.”
Lowering her mouth to his, she took what he wasn’t certain she realized she now owned. He understood that he would never find as much satisfaction with any other woman. Not that it mattered. He intended to never have another. From this night forward, she was the only one who would ever grace his bed, the only one he would ever pleasure.
When she lifted away from the kiss, he was surprised to see that she had a look of shyness about her. “What’s wrong?”
She licked her lips. “I want to be wicked.”
“You don’t think being here is wicked?”
“More wicked. Like we talked about when we went boating.”
He slammed his eyes closed. “Christ.”
“I want to kiss every inch of you.”
Opening his eyes, he spread his arms wide. “Who am I to deny you so simple a request?”
Her laughter floated around them, and he wanted to harness the sound and place it in a music box so he could listen to it whenever he wanted.
She pressed her lips to his forehead, and it was his turn to laugh. “You don’t have to be literal with the every inch.”
Holding his gaze, she gave him a stern look. “Shh. I’m counting how many kisses you’re comprised of. So every inch it shall be.”
And every inch it seemed it would be. His face, his throat, his arms, his chest. The dear woman even went down to his toes. Up his calves, over his knees, along his thighs. He’d never known the inside of his thighs were so sensitive, that a lick here and a nip there would cause his breath to hitch.
Then she stopped and studied his swollen cock. She had to know how badly he wanted her. The damn thing was practically begging for her touch. He reached for her. “Straddle me.”
Moving beyond his reach, she shook her head. “I’m not done yet.”
Resting back on his elbows, he waited, his nerves taut, his muscles fairly trembling with need. Leaning in, she puckered and blew air along the entire length of his shaft. He groaned low in anticipation. Then she gave him the wickedest, sauciest, most sensual of grins, her eyes dark and smoldering.
When her lips touched the head of his cock, he nearly exploded. “Jesus.”
Her tongue slowly circled the incredibly sensitive skin. When she closed her mouth around him, he dropped back on the pillow, lost in the sensations. She took her time, tormenting him as though she’d been born to do so. He threaded his fingers through her hair because he needed to touch her, needed a deeper connection than simply feeling her wedged between his legs.
She was keeping every wicked promise with which she’d ever teased him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Again, with her, there was the open honesty. She never said what she didn’t mean. With her, he’d always known exactly where he stood.
Her mouth was so hot, so wet, so damned skilled. He knew she’d been a virgin when he took her the night before, had felt her body give way to him, but she pleasured h
im now like the highest paid courtesan. No, better than that. She wasn’t doing it for money. She was doing it because she wanted to. She was here now because he meant something to her. She’d not uttered the words, not told him that she loved him, but how could she give so much to him if she didn’t?
Pushing himself back up, he watched as her mouth slid along the length of his cock. “I’m close to bursting, Fancy. Straddle me now. I want my cock inside your sweet haven.”
Offering support, he eased her up and assisted her as she slid down, enveloping him completely. Blanketing her mouth, he tasted himself on her tongue. Sitting up, with one arm under her bottom, the other clasped against her back, he guided her as she rode him hard and fast, her hands stroking his shoulders, his back, as though she couldn’t get enough of him.
Her sighs and mewls heightened his own pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me again.”
“It feels so good.” She buried her face in the curve of his neck. Her arms tightened around him. She shuddered, trembled, cried out, and the muscles of her core squeezed—
He hung on to her as the cataclysm rocked him to his core. Dropping back to the bed, he brought her with him. Lethargic, weakened, he still found the strength to hold her to him. He belonged to her now, heart, body, and soul. He would forever remain hers.
Just as dawn began lightening the mews, Fancy awoke, aching, sore, and tender, but feeling marvelous all the same. She’d had him twice more before they’d finally drifted off to sleep.
Matthew rested on his side, facing her, his hand cradling her hip. He was so beautiful, still lost in dreams, as night began easing away, unveiling him for her eyes and her eyes alone.
A sadness swept through her because she would never again awaken in his arms, in his bed, with his scent wafting around her. Never again would she see his spiky, sooty lashes resting on his high cheekbones. Never again would she see his hair sticking up on one side or note the heavy bristles coating his jaw.
She was tempted to wake him, ask him to take a razor to his face, so she would have that memory of his mornings. To watch him wash up and dress. Although she thought her favorite memory would always be of him divesting his clothing. And hers.
She had no regrets regarding their coming together, not last night or the night before. Men did it all the time: took women and left them. Why couldn’t a woman do the same?
But it wasn’t the same. Already there was an ache in her heart for the emptiness that would consume her when she left here. The thought of leaving him hurt so badly. It made it difficult to breathe, caused her throat to tighten and tears to threaten. Love was supposed to give one strength, and yet she felt so weak. She didn’t want to leave him—ever. She wanted to stay here until their hair turned silver. She wanted to kiss every inch of him again . . . and again and again. Wanted him kissing every inch of her. She wanted to feel him moving inside of her with purpose and strength. She wanted what she couldn’t have.
All because of a silly desire to see a rare and precious book. Because for the briefest tick of a clock another man had touched his mouth to hers and it had meant nothing. But still, it would change the course of her life. It would take her from Matthew.
Giving him up would be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
He alone held the power that made her heart and body sing. He was a rare find. Like the books she loved most of all, he offered a unique glimpse into something that shouldn’t be taken for granted. It was more than love. It was a soul-deep connection that made everything right and good.
Hearing the creak of a wagon’s wheels, she squeezed her eyes shut. The real world was beginning to move about and would soon be invading this fantasy one, causing it to fade away until it too was naught but reality. She couldn’t hold on forever.
She had to let go.
Carefully, gingerly, she began easing off the bed. His hand clamped around her hip.
“Mmm,” he murmured, opening his eyes narrowly and peering at her. “Where are you going?”
“I have to leave before too many people are about.” Leaning in, she kissed his forehead. “I can’t be caught leaving a bachelor’s residence at dawn.”
“Stay awhile longer.” He gave her a wicked grin. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
He would, she knew he would, but it would make it all the harder to leave. “I can’t.”
With a great deal of reluctance, Matthew let her go, rolled onto his back, shoved himself up slightly, and placed his hands behind his head, watching as she began gathering up her clothing. He wanted to watch her doing that every morning for the remainder of his life. He loved her, to the depths of his soul. “Don’t open the shop today. Let’s do something together. We’ll take the train to Brighton. No, we’ll take a flight in a hot air balloon.” I want to tell you who I am. I want to ask you to marry me. You can have your dream of marrying for love. Your family will have theirs of seeing you become part of the aristocracy.
Straightening, she wrapped a hand around the bedpost and stood there in all her naked glory. He wanted her breast back in his mouth, her legs wrapped around his waist. “I can’t.”
“Then I’ll purchase all the books in your shop, and you’ll have nothing to sell and no reason to unlock your door to customers.”
She gave a huff of a laugh, her smile not nearly as bright as he’d expected his words to make it. “You can’t afford to do that.”
“I can.” She stared at him, her eyes slowly blinking. He climbed out of bed, took two strides to reach her, and cradled her face between both his hands. “Spend the day with me, Fancy.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she placed her hands over his, threaded their fingers together, and brought them to her lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. “I want nothing more.”
As her warm breath wafted over his skin, the affection he held for her intensified. They would have this day and all the days that followed.
“But it wouldn’t be fair.”
She lifted her gaze, and he realized the tears weren’t brought on by his fervent desire to have her with him, but by something else, something that caused her sadness, was crushing her, and dread slithered through him.
“I did something rather foolish last night.”
“You regret coming here?”
Quickly, she shook her head, loosened her tight hold on his fingers that was causing them to ache, and cupped his jaw in her hand. “Never. The moments spent with you were the most beautiful, wonderful of my life. I’ll never forget them. I’ll never forget you.”
Her words made no sense whatsoever. It was almost as though she were striving to say goodbye, to end things between them when they’d only just truly begun. “What are telling me, Fancy?”
“Oh God, Matthew, this is so hard.”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and it took everything within him not to gather them up with his thumbs. But something was wrong, terribly wrong. “Just spit it out. We’ve always spoken honestly with each other.”
With a nod, she licked her lips. “At last night’s ball, I was caught in a compromising situation with Lord Beresford.”
Suddenly it was as though the ocean had entered his head, the roar of waves crashing against his skull, drowning out all thought. “Beresford?”
“I told you about him calling on me. He’s an earl—”
“I know who the bloody hell he is.”
Releasing his hold on her, he stepped back, the anger shimmering through him, the betrayal slicing at him. He’d thought her different, but she was just like Elise, just like Sylvie, just like his mother. She wanted a title and was willing to do anything to get it. He’d almost offered the conniving wench his.
“Mick is meeting with Beresford this afternoon.” She extended a hand imploringly. “I have no choice but to marry him.”
In order to gain her damned title. Under his breath, he released a harsh curse and turned away from her. She’d have her lord. If only she’d waited—
What a
fool he’d been to think she’d valued him over a title. That was all she wanted of the man. For Christ’s sake, she’d lured Beresford into a trap and then come to Matthew’s bed. “Get out.”
“Matthew, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I just wanted one more night with you. You are so special to me.”
He swung around. “Someone so damned special that you placed yourself in a compromising situation in order to capture your damned lord?”
She looked as though he’d struck her. “You think I wanted to be found in a compromising situation?”
“It’s what women do. They lure a man in and then they set their trap. My mother, my sister, my wife. They all gained their husbands through deception. Why should you be any different, especially when you were groomed your whole life for the role?”
“This is not what I wanted. How can you possibly believe—”
“Because I know the most innocent of women can be conniving in order to gain what they want. But you fooled me into believing you were different. You won me over, heart and soul. I am completely besotted. I didn’t want you to open your shop because I was going to take you off somewhere and ask you to marry me.”
With a gasp, she fell to her knees. “No.”
“Would that have been your answer because you wanted your title more than you wanted me?”
Additional tears fell. She was trembling. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. More fool was he.
“Matthew, I love you, but you must see that I can’t marry you. My marrying Beresford would be a dream come true for my family. Do you really want to marry a woman of scandal, a woman who was caught alone with another man? Even though you and I weren’t married at the time, it will still follow me, follow you. Your business associates, whoever they are, what if they hear of it? How will that reflect on you?”
Her words were a cudgel hitting against his chest. He’d never wanted anything more than he’d wanted her heart. He knew he would never love anyone to the extent he loved her. But once more he’d misjudged the honor of a woman. He edged past her without touching her. “Just get the hell out.”
The Earl Takes a Fancy Page 27