“You know perfectly well,” he murmured.“This.”And leaning forward, he put his mouth on hers.
It was one thing when she was fully armored with corset and tightly knotted hair, standing on her own two feet.This was different.There was a warm lassitude in the room, and his long hands framed her face as his mouth explored hers, gently, slowly, until she had no possible choice but to kiss him back because she wanted him, needed him, with her heart and soul and bones, and she was so tired of being good.
A moment later, she was flat on her back amongst the loose clothing, and he was leaning over her, his eyes dark with promise.“This is going to happen,” he said.
She made one last protest.“I can’t stop you.”
“You don’t want to stop me.”And she knew in her heart he was right.
His hands moved down to her throat, and she knew he could feel her pulse hammering away.Her dress was simple, and it buttoned up the front to enable her to dress without a maid.It enabled him to undo the buttons, flicking them open one by one as he exposed the simple chemise she wore beneath it.Reaching behind her, he loosened her skirt, and then she was lying in a welter of clothing, her own unfastened around her, and she wanted to touch him, to feel him, the solid warmth of him.She put her hand against the loose white shirt, against his heart, and felt it pounding against her palm.She looked up at him in wonder, and then she rose up and kissed him, her hand still pressed against his betraying heart.
Dressing was a complicated business, and yet he stripped her clothes away with such swift deftness that moments later she was lying in nothing but her chemise and stockings, and he’d taken off his shirt.She couldn’t help it—she pressed her face against his heated skin, revealing in the warmth of it, the feel of it, the taste of it as she kissed his chest.
He let out an animal growl, one of pure need, and her fragile chemise ripped down the center.She reached up and caught his shoulders as he pushed the torn fabric aside, and then she felt the warm, wet tug of his mouth on her breast, the sensation shooting sparks into her, spreading outward until her entire body was suffused with pleasure.His hand on her belly made her jump, but his mouth soothed her as his long fingers slid down to the heart of her.
He seemed to know just how to touch her, how to please her, arouse her, devour her.Her breath strangled in her throat, her body shook with tension and delight, and she wanted more, she wanted him, inside her, claiming her.Nothing else mattered, not proper behavior or her own embattled heart.She was taking this, and damn all the consequences.
He moved his mouth down her body, licking, nipping, but when he put his mouth between her legs, she let out a little cry of panic.And then pleasure, as he cradled her hips and pleasured her with his mouth, shocking and astounding her.She arched into the pile of clothes beneath her as reaction suffused her body, and sparks seemed to fly through her.She sank back, close to tears, and watched as he unfastened his breeches, releasing himself into the warm air, and she knew a moment’s panic.He was big, and she didn’t want to be thinking of Josiah right then, but Brat was far larger, and she didn’t know if she could accommodate him.
He must have read her thoughts.“Thank God you’re not a virgin,” he whispered against her skin.“I promise I’ll make it good for you.”
She swallowed her fears.“You already have,” she said.She’d had her pleasure, greater than she’d ever felt before, and she wanted to give to him now, to bring him to completion.She expected nothing more.
But the push of him against her tender opening was painful for a moment, and then…and then…he pushed all the way inside her, filling her, and she gasped with pleasure, lifting her legs around him.
“You’re so sweet,” he murmured in her ear.“I don’t know if I can last that long.”
“Take your pleasure,” she said, accustoming herself to the feel of him.
“Not without you.”His words made no sense, and then he withdrew, plunging into her again, and she let out a little cry of surprise.And again, and again, as her body grew hot and slippery, and her blood pounded in her veins as she caught his rhythm, meeting him, hungry for him, as the sparks spread through her body once more, more powerful than before.
“Come for me,” he growled in a strained voice as he thrust into her, again and again, and she had no idea what he meant, until suddenly her body spasmed and peaked, and she let out a surprised shriek.
He covered her mouth with his, laughing.“You don’t want to wake up the household,” he said in a whisper, but she barely heard him as she shivered and shook with reaction.And then he began to move, fast, hard, and a moment later, he followed her, filling her with life, until he sank down, his hard, strong body warming hers, protecting hers.Claiming hers.
He lay with his head on her shoulder, shuddering with breath, and she felt so good, so…perfect, that every bone and muscle in her body seemed to have melted.She wanted him forever, skin to skin, heart to heart, she wanted to revel in every sensation.But she fell asleep, of all absurd things.
When she awakened, he was gone.He’d covered her with a voluminous velvet gown, and she vaguely remembered a soft kiss on her forehead, but exhaustion and reaction had overcome her, and she’d lost him.
She pushed herself up amidst the welter of clothing.The fire was still strong—he must have put some wood on it.The sky was pitch-black, and it must be the middle of the night.She needed to return to her bedroom and try to make sense of what had happened.
She looked down, and realized her torn chemise still clung to her body.There were marks on her, love bites, rough spots from the abrasion of his beard, and she realized that forgetting this was going to be difficult with her body a roadmap of what he’d done to her.She pulled the chemise together, then began to search for her abandoned clothes.
It had never taken her so long to get dressed.Her hands were shaking, she felt dizzy and weepy and incredibly happy, all at the same time.In the end, she found everything but one shoe, and she gave up and limped back to her room.She washed, crawled into bed, and lay there, wide awake, shocked at what she had done.Shocked, but not sorry.She couldn’t have what she wanted, but she could have a taste, and that would have to do.At least she didn’t have to worry about a child—she and Josiah had never been blessed, and she’d accepted the fact that she wasn’t made to be a mother.It wouldn’t happen this time either.…
She made a little cry of shock.A woman didn’t know if she was pregnant for weeks, she was being absurd.But suddenly she knew, with every fiber of her being.There would be a child from this night’s work, impossible though it was to tell.She was going to have Brat’s child, she was certain of it, and he must never know.
She still felt uncommonly weepy, but she hugged herself, her skin still sensitized to touch.She put her hands on her flat belly and whispered a blessing.“Hello, little one.Stay safe.”And finally, she fell asleep.
ChapterEight
He’d been a damned fool!He’d only gone after her to flirt and tease—she got so adorably flustered and angry when he did, and then she’d been sitting there in a pile of clothing, her hair falling down her shoulders, looking at him with that mixture of anger and longing.
He wasn’t ready for this.Wasn’t ready for the upheaval she’d brought to his life, not ready to mend his wicked ways.He was only twenty-six—far too young to settle down.But settle down he would, into respectable married life, because he simply could not imagine living without her.
She was going to take some convincing.He had their extraordinary sexual connection on his side, though he suspected she might not know how rare it was.She definitely hadn’t been expecting her own reaction to things, which of course made him impossibly smug.She was an experienced woman, but not that experienced—there were so many things he could teach her.He wanted to go back upstairs and finish what he started, he wanted to carry her off to someplace with a warm bed and keep her there for weeks.Instead, he had to behave himself and convince her to marry him.He had no illusions she’d be dazzled by his money and position, by the gloriously tawdry Rohan family.She was a sensible woman, but not sensible enough to change her life from drudgery—with Annis for a mistress he was sure it had been drudgery—to one of luxury and privilege.
No, the practical Mrs.Jenny Lancaster would only marry for love.Fortunately, she was in love with him.She just might not know it yet, though last night had been a good start.She’d know it soon enough.
