But she didn’t let go and soon he was wild, not caring as she stroked him again and again as he groaned and panted. Finally, he forced himself to pull her hand away.
“What? Why did you do that?” she asked, her eyes wide.
He pushed up on one elbow and pulled her toward him, kissing her deeply and shuddering. “Madeline, when I come, I want to be deep inside of you.”
Justin rolled off the bed and went to his bedside table where he pulled out something and arranged it between his legs.
“A French letter,” he explained. “To prevent a child.”
Madeline nodded and smiled. Thank goodness there was something for that. Her breath was coming so hard, it was painful. Justin returned to the bed, gently pushed her onto her back, and covered her again with his rugged body. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feel of the weight of him atop her. It felt so right. She wrapped her arms around his muscular neck and breathed in the scent of sandalwood under his jaw. His knee pushed her legs apart, and she felt him, hard and probing. She spread herself wider to accommodate him.
“Madeline,” he breathed into her ear. “Are you a virgin?”
“Don’t stop,” she whispered into his ear. It was a demand, not a request.
It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but Justin wasn’t certain he could have stopped if he’d wanted to, and he certainly didn’t want to. His cock found the place it sought, and he pushed inside slowly, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him.
When he was finally seated to the hilt, his jaw clenched, sweat beading on his brow, he opened his eyes and gazed at Madeline’s beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was erratic, but she had a definite smile on her lips.
“Are you…all right?” he asked.
“I’m perfect,” she replied, lunging upward, moving against his cock, making his entire body shudder. By God, if he didn’t get to it, this woman was going to make him come.
He grabbed her hands and twined his fingers through them again, pressing her hands into the bedding on either side of her head. He pushed himself up and groaned as his length slid inside of her. “Jesus,” he breathed as he pulled back the first time and slid in again.
Her chest rose and fell with each stroke, her head moved back and forth fitfully against the pillow. He could push into her again and again and again, and have the most intense orgasm of his life, but he wanted to make it good for her, one more time.
He pulled one of his hands from hers and moved it down between her legs to touch the nub at the center of her pleasure. Her free hand moved to his shoulder, clutching him, her fingertips digging into his skin as her heels bore into the mattress.
He smiled smugly again as he recognized the look of pure delightful agony on her face. If he kept up the steady pace of the tiny little circles he was making against her, she would come again. And that was exactly what he wanted.
He stopped stroking into her, intent on ensuring he pushed her over the edge first. Sweat beaded on her brow and she whimpered, her hips arching against his hand as he kept up his relentless movement again and again. Her breathing quickened, and she strained against the hand that he still held captive by her ear, her jaw tightly clenched. When he could tell she was on the brink of ecstasy, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her to capture her pleasure cries in his mouth.
The moment her breathing slowed, Justin captured her other hand again and stroked into her, relentlessly following the unholy ache in his bollocks, knowing that the moment he let himself go, it would be the most intense feeling he’d had in his life.
He pumped into her again and again and finally squeezed both of her hands and pressed his head into the bedclothes near her ear to bury his powerful groans in the pillows.
When it was over, he rolled off her but pulled her into his arms and cradled her head in the nook beneath his chin. He fell asleep that way, stroking her hair…and knowing full well he was never going to be the same.
When the first streak of sunlight hit the curtains in Justin’s room, Maddie’s eyes flew open. She sat up straight in bed and stretched, but she knew she didn’t have long to linger. The maids would be coming soon to stoke the fire in the large fireplace opposite Justin’s opulent bed. She had to go immediately.
Slipping from the covers, she collected her clothing, ensuring she had every single piece. She quickly dressed and then made her way to his side. She stood next to the bed, watching him silently for a moment. He was even more gorgeous naked with his dark hair rumpled, a night’s growth of beard on his jaw. She smiled to herself, remembering all the delightful things the man had done to her body. Oh, she’d remember last night for the rest of her life, even if she lived to be ancient.
He turned in his sleep and hugged a pillow. She leaned down and kissed his rough cheek, allowing her fingers to run through his hair one last time. She’d never touch him again. But oh, how she had touched him last night. She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his rough cheek before turning and leaving the room through the adjoining bedchamber door. It would be less obvious to leave that way if any servants were about. She didn’t allow herself to think that this bedchamber would be where his future marchioness would soon sleep. Instead, she cracked open the door to the hallway and peeked out. When she was satisfied that no one was there, she hurried out, down the empty corridor, through the far door at the back end of the hallway and up the servants’ staircase. She made it safely into her room in mere moments.
She leaned back against the door and smiled to herself. She’d done it. She’d spent the night with Lord Justin Whitmoreland, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and she didn’t have a single regret.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Justin woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the curtains of his bedchamber. Blast it. His valet should have ensured those were closed after he— Wait. No. Last night had been unlike most other nights. He hadn’t come home from a club inebriated. He’d gone to bed earlier than normal. He’d hosted a ball, and he’d spent the night with Madeline.
He quickly rolled over to find the bed was empty save him. He pushed himself up on his elbows. She’d gone. Where? When? Was she already in his sister’s rooms, waking Eliza and helping her dress for breakfast? Damn it. He pushed the pillows up behind his back, punching at them for good measure. What the hell had he allowed himself to do last night? He hadn’t even been drinking…not heavily, at least. And neither had Madeline. He was certain of that. No. They’d both made the fully conscious decision to spend the night together.
They hadn’t said a word. Somehow, they’d both just known it was time…it was right…it was inevitable. He wanted her. She wanted him. It was that simple. And with her arriving in his bedchamber, it had been easy. Too easy.
Damn it. He was a complete reprobate. And—a bright red spot on the white sheets caught his eye, and he glanced down to see blood. Oh, my God. He’d suspected it, but that confirmed it. She had been a virgin, for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t a reprobate. He wasn’t a scoundrel. He was an utter rogue. A villain.
Justin searched the room. First, he’d had to dispose of the sheets himself. He refused to have maids gossiping where Madeline could hear. At least he’d taken precautions to ensure she would not grow heavy with child. He’d been sane enough to make that decision. But still, he had to make this right. He had to do something to set it all straight. This was his fault. He was the one who’d wandered into the drawing room, insisted she dance with him. He was the one who couldn’t stop himself from touching her. He had no control. He could not trust himself where she was concerned. Madeline was not safe in the same house as him. That was all there was to it.
