He stayed that thought, banishing it from his mind. For love had no place in his life, no place in their union. Love only led to disaster and ruin. This bliss between them needed only desire. Physical joining. Mutual respect.
A cordial union. That was all he had to offer her.
He nipped her earlobe, and then he withdrew his fingers, slicking her juices on his rigid cock before aligning himself to her entrance. Mindlessly, he pressed. One thrust of his hips, and her body welcomed him. The angle and the grip of her surrounding him was enough to make his body flood with fire. The flames licked through him. Consumed him.
She cried out and his restraint snapped. He drove into her deeper, not stopping until he was fully seated. He held still by sheerest force of will, allowing her body to adjust to the different position.
“More,” she said.
One word. His complete undoing.
He gave her what she wanted, drawing back and then plunging him deep inside her again and again. The harder he fucked her, the tighter and wetter she became. He was delirious with lust now. Drunk on it. Drunk on her.
He reared back so he could watch. Helena’s body was on display for him, her bottom lush and full. He gripped her hips and pumped into her, his cock disappearing within her perfect pink folds before gliding out again, glistening with her dew.
“Do you like it when I fuck you, Helena?” he asked, the dams inside him bursting open.
He was awash in wickedness and sin. Later, he would worry over what he had said and done, the boundaries they had crossed this night. For now, all he wanted was to revel in this sensual onslaught.
“I love it,” she said, breathless as she met him thrust for thrust. “I love the way you fuck me, Gabe. I love…”
She never finished what she had been about to say, because in the next instant, she convulsed on him, milking his cock as she spent. He could not keep himself from coming as well. On a guttural growl, Gabe lodged his cock deep one last time, filling her with his seed as she tremored around him and slumped against the tub.
The release was so powerful, it took Gabe a few moments to return to himself. When the delirium of his crisis faded, he realized he was still semihard inside her, his chest pressed to her sweat-slicked back. She had been about to tell him she loved him, he feared. But reckless fool that he was, instead of her words turning him cold, they had heightened his desire. And now, he wanted her again.
What the devil was the matter with him?
He had intended to keep his distance this evening, and yet he was turning into a raging satyr. He had to get out of this bathroom and return to the safe haven of his own chamber before he made love to her again.
He kissed her cheek and forced himself to withdraw from the sweet haven of her body. Then he drew up his dressing gown, averting his gaze from the temptation she presented. “Thank you, my dear. I bid you good night.”
As he hastened his escape, Gabe inwardly kicked himself in the arse.
What a prig he had sounded like.
He had never hated himself more.
Chapter Twenty
Only a villain would deny us our right.
—FromLady’s Suffrage Society Times
The last personHelena expected to pay a call upon her was Lord Algernon Forsyte. The moment he entered the blue salon, dread squeezed her heart in its icy grasp. She knew instinctively that no good could come of his visit. Nor of the smug look on his countenance.
Still, she strove to settle her inner tumult and dipped into a curtsy to match his bow. “Lord Algernon, what a pleasure to see you again.”
He took her hand in his, raising it to his lips for a kiss. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Huntingdon. Where is Lord Huntingdon this lovely afternoon? It has been a few weeks since our paths have crossed.”
“My husband is not at home,” she managed, withdrawing her hand from his grasp as the urge to wipe her hand upon her skirts rose within her.
How had she ever contemplated ruining herself with his aid? Her desperation had been not just reckless, but foolish as well.
“A shame, that.” Lord Algernon’s gaze raked over her form in a bold and assessing fashion. “Fortunately, Huntingdon is not the one I wished to see today. You are, my dear countess.”
More misgiving blossomed within her. She stepped away from him, deeming it prudent to increase the distance. His cologne was overwhelming, filling her with the urge to sneeze. There also lingered on the air a faint whiff of hair grease and spirits, mingling with tobacco and linen in need of a fine laundering. Did the man not realize covering himself in scent did nothing to cloak his lack of care in his appearance?
She cleared her throat to chase away the unpleasant odors. “Forgive me, Lord Algernon, but I fail to see a reason for you to call upon me.”
