“Sleep?” She didn’t recognize the squeak she emitted.
“You best tell me quickly, Rebecca. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to move away.”
And she was not strong enough to push him. She reached up and curled her fingers into the thickness of his hair. His hand moved between their bodies. He cupped the heat between her legs. She was mortified, but thankful for the remaining barrier her chemise provided. An embarrassing moisture flooded her. Could he tell?Let him not be able to tell. All rationale flew out of her head when his lips closed over one nipple through the sheer lawn.
“You taste so good.” He licked and suckled then moved his mouth to her other breast. “And I’m not even to the good part.”
Rebecca gripped his head, holding him to her. “The good part?” she rasped. What was he talking about?
“God, I want you.” His hair tickled her nose. The hand below pressed and kneaded driving her to a higher plane that remained just out of reach. The pressure he exerted against her circulated in a rhythm that sent her nerve endings into a chaotic frenzy until she thought she would burst, and then she did. “You’re so wet for me. I. Want. To. Touch. You.” Just as his fingers slid under her chemise and moved over her bare skin to the curls at the apex of her legs, brilliant shards of color exploded behind her eyes.
He didn’t stop there. He moved down her body, quickly shoving the delicate fabric up her lethargic body, exposing her nudity. His mouth, a hot trail of fire, followed the powdered line of fuel he left. She was too weak to resist his lifting her leg. He parted her and moved his mouth in a kiss—an indecent touch—between her legs. His fingers, then his tongue, went deep, invasive, intimate.
“No,” she begged. “Don’t… stop.” Her hips rose from the mattress and his hands cupped her buttocks. Firm strokes pressed and teased until he wrought another, more euphoric climax from her. He lowered her body gently to the bed and appeared over her, then dropped his weight on her, his breath heaving harshly.
She coughed.
They both froze.
And again.
It wasn’t she who coughed. Serena. Oh, lord. How could she have forgotten? Her hand came up between them and she shoved. As if that did any good.
Grunting, he rolled off of her onto his back. “Check your charge, my lady.” His voice cracked.
She nodded, though she knew it was too dark for him to see. “Will you light a candle, Your Grace?” Anything to afford her privacy.
“Of-of course.”
Slowly, he moved off the bed and across the chamber.
She rose on trembling legs, using the bed curtain as a shield to strip out of her stays. Shockingly, the time for mortification had fled. He’d had his mouth on her breasts, on her… her—she couldn’t even come up with the word—privates. He hadn’t been put off by the dampness. In fact, he seemed to revel in it.
Well, she was much too sensible to read anything into it. Men were known for being unable to control their baser needs. She just hadn’t realized a woman could be reduced to the same. His kisses were an opiate to her entire being. There was obviously more to this business of copulating, leaving her more and more curious. So far, she found it quite… satisfying.
Rebecca felt around the bed, found her wrap and hurried into it, then, forgetting the candle, stole into the other room to check on Serena.
~~~
Sebastian should be shot. Thankfully, he’d had sense enough to keep the flaps on his breeches fastened. Clearly, he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, not with his cock at half-mast. God, she tasted sweet. He lifted his hand and drew in the essence of her own unique fragrance. Yes, sweet. With a bite of potent spice. He would marry her. She was the daughter of an earl, and he required an heir. They would suit admirably.
True, she hadn’t the decorum of most of the young debutantes on the market who’d been groomed for the role of duchess, but… Lady Parther, rather, the duchess of Oxford would know of someone who could school Rebecca.
Rebecca was kind, if a bit headstrong. She would make him an incredible wife.
It was a sound plan. Feeling like he did, he could see no downside. What woman wouldn’t desire being a duchess. It was the goal of every nobleman’s daughter. He took the lighted candle over to the bed and lifted it over his head. “Rebecca?” In a pool of serviceable fabric, her gown, corset, and stays were on the floor, her night rail on the bed. She, however, was nowhere to be seen. For the first time since he’d come into the dukedom, a lightness settled over him. Grinning, Sebastian blew out the flame and set the candle on the bedside table and stretched out on the mattress.
Yes, he thought, closing his eyes, his body grounded innearsatisfaction, Rebecca would make a fine duchess. He certainly wouldn’t mind rushing home from Parliament to meet her in the boudoir for an afternoon of romping about. Perhaps running into Oxford and his bride could be turned to his advantage.
Seventeen
Sebastian jolted awake and took in the sounds about him. Leaves rustling against the window, the lack of a fire crackling in the grate, the bout of silence in the large room. Slowly, he rose to sitting and noted Rebecca’s dress and corset draped over the back of the settee. Just where he’d placed them after she’d fled the chamber in the wee hours of the morning. The sun, high in the sky, beamed through the window.
The door. The door had clicked shut.Rebecca. Gone?
He scrambled from the bed, his feet getting trapped in the coverlets, sending him crashing to the floor. Grunting through the pain, he hopped over to the maid’s chamber and pushed down the latch and peered in. The bed was empty. When the fog cleared, he remembered that it was Serena who’d been using the bed, not Rebecca. Rebecca was curled in the chair, using her wrap as a coverlet. His insides softened like Gunter’s ices on a hot summer day.
Her eyes fluttered, opened, found him. Her lips were full and pink, her cheeks flush with sleep. “Your Grace?” Her voice croaked from lack of use.
