Jasper kissed her neck, his hands bunching her skirts up and reaching underneath to caress her thighs. As she raked her hands through his hair with her eyes closed, he slipped off her shoe and rolled one of her stockings down her leg, taking it off. “I will keep this,” he murmured, smiling wickedly at her.
At that instant, Natalie pushed away everything she held against him. He knew how to please her, and that was what she needed to escape her troubles for a short while. “What else will you keep?” she asked slyly, giving him a look that dared him.
“My name on your lips.” It sounded like a vow, and Natalie understood his meaning when he pushed her skirts further up and reached between her legs.
Chapter 24
Miss Alexandra Gilmore revealed to The Londoner that the Duke of Amsthorne told Lady Natalie Reeves that he had no wish to make her his duchess. A broken heart? No, that cannot be the reason Lady Natalie left Lady Phoebe Dawson’s soirée. It is true that the Duke might never marry, but it pains us to learn that our dear Lady Natalie might be heartbroken. Is there any truth in this tale? Surely, we should not disbelieve the word of the good Miss Gilmore, should we?
“Jasper,” Natalie moaned, her pleasure swelling everywhere he touched her.
“Open your eyes, darling,” he instructed, touching his lips to hers. “I want to see those lovely eyes while I give you pleasure.”
She opened them, and his intense blue gaze held her, stealing her breath away. He stroked her moist center, and her eyelids fluttered. Her blood burned, and the more he stroked her, the more she wanted.
Natalie took hold of his coat lapels, leaning back against the wall on the other side of the table. Jasper lifted one of her legs and held it, slipping his fingers into her. She breathed his name, and his lips spread into the most devilish grin she had ever seen him wear.
His strokes grew frantic, and their gaze remained locked, intensifying every ounce of pleasure that he was giving her. Natalie’s heart beat faster, and her nerves coiled and tightened luxuriously until she trembled, unable to breathe. His eyes seemed to look into her soul, and she wanted to look away, but like a woman trapped under a spell, she remained.
Her fingers tightened around his coat lapels until her knuckles were white, and Natalie clenched her teeth to keep from crying out as an exquisitely gratifying wave overtook her, scattering her senses. Jasper withdrew his hand from her center and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly against him.
"Natalie, darling," he whispered in her ear while he ran his hand up and down her back. She clung to him as her body calmed and that beautiful and familiar warmth covered her. He pulled back and looked down at her. “Did I keep my promise?”
“Is that a serious question?” she chuckled. He had done more than simply keep a promise because what he had done to her tonight would remain in her memories for a very long time—if it would ever leave.
“It is a serious question, Natalie.” He took her face between his hands. “Your satisfaction is important to me.” His gaze had softened, and she thought he was no longer asking about the pleasure he had just given her.
“You did,” she answered, and he smiled. His lips parted as though he was going to say more to her but he only kissed her.
When he pulled away, she still thought he would speak, but he did not. Jasper pulled her skirts down and straightened the neckline of her dress before helping her smoothen her hair. Then he helped her off the table and led her to a mirror near the door. He stood behind her and kissed her shoulder.
Natalie’s body was still singing, but as she regarded their reflection, her senses floated more toward desire. She saw the question in his eyes, and he was asking her if her appearance was good enough for her to return to the drawing room without rousing anyone’s suspicions. Natalie nodded.
Smiling, Jasper turned her around and unlocked the door. “I will join you momentarily.” His hands remained on her shoulders, and she found herself reluctant to part with him, too. “What is your next wish?” he asked.
A smile curved her lips. “I want to fence.”
His brows rose ever so slightly, but he did not remark upon it and only said, “It shall be arranged.”
Natalie opened the door and left. It was not difficult to find her way back to the drawing room, and she paused by the door, both to catch her breath and to fortify her nerves before she saw Oliver.
He was not in the room when she entered, however, and Hannah and George looked freer. Then Phoebe informed her that he had departed early to handle some business. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she went to sit near Hannah.
Natalie knew her relief was momentary because Oliver was back in England, and he would not stop tormenting her so quickly.
George folded the newspaper and shook his head, inciting Natalie to incline her head and study him.
“What does the news say?” she asked.
“Only foolish predictions. The person who wrote the news I finished reading thinks Oliver will revive the Clifford Coal Factory and Mines.”
“Did Oliver tell them that?” Hannah asked, scowling.
“He could have,” George responded. “Did you hear him talk about his accomplishments last night?” It was evident how wounded her cousin was by Oliver’s boasts.
Natalie sighed and bit into her toast. She did not particularly wish to discuss Oliver this morning, but George was allowed to vent, and she understood how frustrated he was.
“I cannot believe that someone as good as Amsthorne would keep the company of such a man,” he continued. “Is the Duke aware of his treacherous nature?”
