A Desperate Wager (16 page)
Authors: Em Taylor
“
Would you mind awfully if I do not dress for dinner tonight? I am still in pain from the accident and changing my gown seems like a terrible fuss when it is just the two of us.” He shrugged and moved towards her.
“
After my behaviour, I am in no position to complain if you turn up to dinner naked. I would be better served in sackcloth, I believe.”
She smiled a little. He was so handsome and in some ways looked like a young boy in his discomfort. Forgiveness was tapping lightly at her heart, begging for entry. She wanted to forgive him. She had no wish for her home to resemble a battlefield.
He came and stood next to her.
“
You appear to be in my seat.”
“
It is a very comfortable seat and you were not using it.”
“
Perhaps, but it is the seat of the duke and you are not the duke.”
“
Would the duke like his seat back?”
“
The duke would.”
“
The duchess will give the duke back his seat on one condition.”
“
Oh yes?” He raised an eyebrow. Sarah bit her lip. If she was going to salvage this marriage and make it work, she had to make him fall in love with her. She had to make him want her and not Miss Trotter. She had to flirt outrageously. She ran a finger down the side seam of his breeches, watching its progress before flicking her eyes up to meet his dark gaze.
“
The duchess would like to share the seat with the duke.” He caught her finger and raised her hand to his lips, pressing them gently against her knuckles.
“
Would the duchess like to sit on the duke’s lap?”
“
She would.” Nate nodded slowly before leaning down, picking her up and sitting down with her on his lap all in one smooth movement.
“
How are you feeling?” she asked, taking care to keep the censure from her voice.
“
Still foxed. And ashamed.”
“
You are still foxed?”
“
Yes. It takes a while to leave your system.”
“
I suppose it does.” When she made eye contact with him she wanted to weep for him. He looked so broken, so hurt and so ashamed. Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed herself against him. She held on, hoping that affection could soothe his soul and bring him to the realisation that he needed to change. There was a pause while the embrace was all on her side, then his hands moved around her waist, one creeping up her back to press her against him. She buried her head on his shoulder and breathed. When he leaned his head against hers, she knew he was relaxing, embracing her back properly and drawing comfort from her. He may have been inside her and spilled his seed in her body, but this was the most intimate they had been since they made their vows.
“
I have made a mess of things, have I not?” he said eventually, resting his chin on her shoulder. She squeezed tighter then released him, sitting back and observing him.
“
We have been married but a few days. There were bound to be a few ruts in the road.
“
Speaking of ruts in the road, has Bellamy arrived back?”
“
Yes, a couple of hours ago.”
“
I need to go and see him.”
“
No need. I took a message. The wheel was cut with a saw. It was deliberate.” Nathaniel paled, his eyes widening in horror.
“
Someone is trying to kill me.”
“
Or me.”
“
Sarah, no one could possibly want to kill you. What reason would someone have to do something so abominable?”
“
To get me out of the way so you can marry your mistress.” She tried to keep her voice light, but she was struggling. Claws of jealousy clutched at her very soul, and she wanted to cast up her accounts at the thought of her husband and
that woman
.
Nathaniel chuckled.
“What a silly notion you have in your head.” He nuzzled her neck and moved his hand up her bodice, cupping her breast and flicking his thumb leisurely across the tip of her nipple. “Why would I need a mistress when I have you sitting on my lap, tempting me to put dinner back an hour?”
“
Are you telling me you do not have a mistress?” He was kissing along her jawline while he tweaked the nipple he had previously teased with the pad of his thumb, sending shards of pleasure through her. Her traitorous body was not helping her retain her train of thought.
“
No, you beautiful creature.” His finger moved under the neckline of her dress. And she desperately wanted to succumb to his touch. “I do not have a mistress and I never will.” He was moving his lips across her bare décolletage. “You are perfect, Freckles. I need no one else.”
“
Not even Miss Amelia Trotter?”
Forty-One
Nate stopped what he was doing, his lips poised on her beautiful soft skin, his finger within a fraction of an inch of that beautiful nipple.
Amelia Trotter?
The vindictive little wench from the next estate?
Sarah pulled his hand from her gown and sat up straighter, hitting him on the nose accidentally—or perhaps not quite so accidentally—with her décolletage. He was definitely still too foxed. He was sure Sarah had suggested that Miss Amelia Trotter was his mistress.
“Miss Trotter? Freckles, I think that bump on your head needs to be assessed by a doctor. My love, believe me when I say that if the human race was about to die out and its only hope was for me to copulate with Miss Amelia Trotter, then our species would be no more. I would be more likely to bed her mother than her.” He shuddered dramatically, and she stifled a giggle.
“
Then why is she writing to you, telling you she loves you and asking you to meet her tomorrow night in the orchard to begin your illicit affair?” His gaze moved down to his desk where a letter lay open.
He leaned forward, his grip on her tightening slightly as he moved. His erection brushed her hip, the tip touching her waist briefly. Her breath hitched and satisfaction uncoiled inside him. Let her see the effect she was having on him.
He read it quickly, his eyes scanning the page as his finger resumed teasing her nipple. He knew he was distracting her when she licked her lips with the tip of her tongue.
He could not believe the words on the page. He had never shown the slightest interest in Miss Trotter before. He had danced with her a few times in London’s ballrooms. They were neighbours
, after all, and it was the polite thing to do. But he had never called on her the following day, sent flowers or walked with her on the terrace.
He had certainly never had any plans to marry the chit, therefore, whatever her mother was planning had been a waste of time. And now she was professing love for him? And a desire to have an affair. Truly, the thought horrified him. She was a good-looking enough woman, he supposed, but she had hard features and a sneer in her gaze. And her personality was repulsive. He knew she wanted a duke or an earl at the very least. Why would she now be willing to be an aristocrat’s mistress? It made no sense, unless Sarah was right and she was the one who damaged his carriage and was just biding her time. Perhaps she assumed that bed sport with a cripple would be unfulfilling. Well, obviously Miss Trotter knew nothing about matters of the marriage bed if she thought that.
Nate was pondering this as Sarah’s lips touched his neck, her tongue flicking out before she nipped his earlobe. She had little room for her ministrations with his high collar and cravat, but she was having a damned good try. He bent his head slightly and she sighed, kissing the exposed flesh.
He tossed the letter back on the desk and caught the tip of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Sarah, my darling, anyone would think you were trying to distract me from the fact you opened my letter,” he said with casual ennui. She stopped kissing him, then moaned loudly as he tweaked her nipple again. God, she was so responsive to his touch.
She sat up
and wrung her hands, head bowed as if in penance. “I am sorry, Your Grace.”
“
No, you are not,” he chided gently. She lifted her chin and looked directly at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“
I have no idea where Miss Trotter gets her strange ideas from. I had no plans to marry her or anyone else until you and your father coerced me into marrying you.”
“
Me and my father?” Her voice was an octave higher than usual. “Me? Why in God’s name would you think I had anything to do with his ridiculous stunt?”
“
You seemed to take it in your stride.”
“
I had no choice. He told me as you arrived, and I had to come into the drawing room and there you were. All dashing and handsome and in a foul mood. And he is dying and will die a much easier death knowing someone will care for me. I did it for him. I accepted you for him. Do you not see how desperate he was? Imagine I was your daughter and you were dying. He…”
Her eyes had filled with tears
, and she shook her hand in front of her face as if willing them away.
“
Shhh! I see. I understand.”
“
Do you?”
“
Yes,” Nate settled back, pulling her against him. He fumbled for his handkerchief and offered it to her. She accepted and blew her nose, then relaxed against his chest. He felt like a complete heel. For the second time today he had made her cry. Why was he making such a poor job of being a husband? Surely it couldn’t be too hard to make the girl happy.
“
Nate, we really need to talk—properly.”
She was calling him Nate. She never did that unless she was serious. His head was beginning to throb. Served him right for getting so foxed. He would just have to bear it. He settled his arms loosely around her and looked up at the ceiling.
How long they sat in that position, Nate could not have said. He suspected he had dropped off into a dose and possibly so had she. It seemed their talk would have to wait until tonight.
Forty-Two
A hiss of frustration made Nate look up from his book. Sarah sat on a chaise, embroidering, but now she was sucking at her finger and scowling ferociously.
“
I get the feeling you dislike embroidery.”
“
I do.”
“
Then why do you do it?”
“
Because that’s what ladies do. That’s what duchesses do.”
Nate chuckled and moved over to her. He removed the small embroidery frame from her hand and tossed it carelessly on the table at her side, then he swept her into his arms and carried her back to the chair he had been sitting in before.
“I believe I can think of a better occupation for
my
duchess.”
“
You can?” she asked coyly.
He found the buttons of her dress and tweaked them, watching as the muslin gaped at the neck then fell lower than her stays.
“I can,” he rasped. God, he had been hard on and off all evening, watching her eating, licking her lips, imagining kissing her. To think he had actually wondered if they could be sexually compatible because of her broken back.
“
What if someone comes in?” she asked, making a liar of herself as she tugged at his neck cloth. She was not concerned about anyone coming in at all.
“
Unless you tug on the bell pull in the throes of your orgasm, no one will disturb us.” She pushed at the shoulders of his jacket but he was working the ties of her stays loose.
With a little grunt of frustration she turned her attention to the buttons on his waistcoat. Her stays opened and he found the tie of her chemise. Pulling it undone, he heaved a sigh of relief. Tension had poured through him in his efforts to undress her without ravishing her. But he wanted her naked, on the rug and begging for his touch. If she thought for one moment he could be swayed into the arms of that little Trotter bitch, he was going to show her exactly how wrong she was.
After pushing the garments off her arms and baring her amazing breasts to his gaze, he spoke. “Arms around my neck,” he ordered. When she obeyed him he stood, bringing her to her feet. He pushed her garments to the floor. Then he sat her down on the leather seat and removed her slippers and stockings.
As he disrobed, he
ignored Sarah’s look of disappointment, but she sat meekly, hands in her lap as if she was waiting to greet an afternoon caller. Within seconds, he was completely naked. He threw another log on the fire, tossed their clothes on the other chair and approached her. He was like a coiled spring, ready to pounce but aware this was all still rather new to his Sarah.
His wife’s skin glowed in the firelight, her nipples were tight little nubs just screaming for his attention and her hands moved along the armrests as if desperate to grab something. He had a good idea of what he would like her to grab
, and it was leading the way towards her. It was then he realised her hair was still up. Damn her hair. He wanted it free to fall over her shoulders, to splay out over the rug when he plunged into her.
Sarah arched an eyebrow as he stood right in front of her, his erection at her eye level and proceeded to remove pins from her hair. What his demure, only-three-days-short-of-being-a-virgin wife did next surprised and pleased him and nearly made him spill.
She wrapped her small warm hand around his member, leaned forward slightly and ran her tongue from his balls to the tip.
“
Christ, Sarah!” he gritted out. She stilled, like a Greek statue—his hard flesh gripped in her hand. Damn, she thought she had done the wrong thing. He really had to stop worrying her so with his own inability to control himself. “Oh God, do it again,” he pleaded.
This time she did it more confidently, the flat of her tongue rasping against his sensitive flesh.
She flicked her tongue around the head. He moaned, digging his fingers into her hair that was half up and half down. When she licked him again, he wondered momentarily if he had died and gone to heaven.
“
Put as much of the top of it in your mouth as you can.” He wondered if it was right to ask a young lady to do this even if he was married to her, but then he had bedded widows who had been experts at this form of pleasure. Presumably they had once been as innocent as his beautiful, inquisitive Sarah. And the wet heat of her mouth surrounded him, he concentrated on his task of removing her hair pins. Her touch was so good and he was torn between letting her continue and retaining his sanity. If he spilled now, he would need time to recover. “God, that’s wonderful.”
He thrust a few more times into her willing mouth then eased back, not wishing to tell her to stop but needing to stop the pleasurable pain. She looked up questioningly, clearly unsure whether it was a good or bad thing that he had withdrawn from her.
He swept her into his arms and sat back down on the seat.
“
One day I shall allow you to do that until I climax, but not tonight. Tonight is for taking our time, for exploring each other.”
“
But I did it correctly?”
He pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Perfectly.” She angled her head and kissed him properly, her tongue pressing against his lip, probing for access, her taut nipples budded against his chest as he knelt down like a supplicant at her feet and succumbed to her desires.
He opened his mouth and instantly deepened the kiss, sucking her tongue into his mouth, every lash of her tongue giving him a deeper awareness of himself and of her. He knew kisses could arouse and prepare one for the act of sex, but this kiss, which they mutually deepened further
, was a sex act in itself. It was making love.
It was an act that was unhurried and gave him the chance to sweep his fingertips over her shoulders, down her back, over the firm flesh of her succulent backside and
down her thighs to the place where he knew she could no longer feel. He changed direction, moving his fingers back up the front of her thigh, over the curve of her hip and the plane of her belly, before he cupped her breast. Then he began again. Time disappeared and their kisses stretched out.
He remained perfectly hard, pressing against her thigh
, but he was in no hurry. Sarah had shown a side of herself today that proved what a good person she was. While mad at him for being foxed, she still made sure he was taken care of and fed.
Nate was surprised then when, as he ran his fingers up her thigh for the umpteenth time, his duchess clasped his wrist and guided him to the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs. She patted the back of his hand as if to tell him to leave it there, before grabbing her thigh and moving it away from the other, opening herself up to his ministrations.
He pressed a finger through her moist, heated folds, groaning into her mouth as his finger slipped easily inside her. She gasped and he covered her mouth with his. She responded enthusiastically, her fingers spearing through his curls as she angled his head just so. As he pressed his thumb against her nub, a shudder ran along her spine, he felt it and she gripped tighter. It had never occurred to him that her body would react differently to stimuli than the bodies of other women he had bedded. He had assumed there would be feeling or not. Her reaction indicated that it had been pleasurable.
Her hands slipped from his hair the third time he pressed hard and she cupped his chin in her palms.
“Nate, I need you. Please.”
“
You want me inside you?” He pressed again, and her whimper of pleasure made up his mind.
“
Please.”
He stood, holding her in his arms, then knelt, laying her down on the plush sheepskin rug in front of the hearth. He glanced at the fire. It was still burning, in no danger of dying anytime soon. As he placed her shoulders on the rug
, she winced.
“
Have I hurt you? Oh God.”
“
No. If you recall, I fell out of a carriage this morning.”
“
Oh!” He may have recalled but he had not considered the ramifications of her fall. Of course her muscles and joints would be wrenched. His were and he’d had plenty of alcohol to numb the pain. He had been consumed by his need to show her that he cared he had completely forgotten to actually care for her. He felt like a heel yet again.
“
Sarah, I am sorry. We do not need to do this. I can help you dress and carry you to bed and leave…”
Sarah lifted two fingers to his lips and silenced him.
“I need you. Inside me. I am a little tender around my neck and shoulders and I have a nasty bruise on my elbow, of all places, but none of that stops you doing exactly what you were about to do. Please, Nate.”
She pursed her lips as she finished speaking—a little pout that made his insides turn to jelly.
He suspected his wife had him wrapped around her pinky finger. Well, he was more than happy to be. He lifted her knees to bend her legs, then pushed one hand underneath her.
“
Guide me in,” he said, leaning on his arm to steady himself. Her small hand moved between them and clasped around his hardness. The crown of his erection nestled against her warm, wet entrance. He paused, watching her eyes before pressing slowly into her. Sarah’s lips curved into a lazy smile and she cradled his arse with her free hand, urging him to go deeper, the other hand also cupping a firm buttock once he was safely embedded.
The slight sting of her nail made him groan with desire. How could it be that she knew exactly which things would drive him wild with desire
?
“
Nate!” Her voice was a plea as she dug in her nails and jiggled his arse cheeks. He had been just lying there between her legs, imagining her nail marks on his back. Any other woman would have wriggled to show her need, her desperation, her displeasure. But Sarah could not. Once again she was reliant on him.
“
My apologies,” he muttered as he withdrew almost to the tip then plunged back inside. Her grip loosened.
Her plump, thoroughly-kissed lips pursed and her eyes fluttered closed. Auburn eyelashes melded into the freckles liberally smattered across her cheeks and nose. He withdrew again and when he pushed in once
more, a small moan escaped her.
He moved onto his forearms, suddenly heeding the urge to be closer to her, skin to skin, chest to breasts. Skimming his lips in feather-like kisses up the side of her neck as he took her, branding her again as his own, making them one. His fingers curled in her hair as he watched her reactions, tried to judge if she was close. He would hold off for her, as long as it took.
When he adjusted his balance and pushed a hand between them, massaging her slick nub, her eyes opened and she arched her back. Who would have thought such a simple movement would give him such a grand sense of satisfaction. Her fingernails nipped again and he sped up his thrusts. He had to make her climax though before he did. It was a matter of pride for him. He circled his hips. Round and round, again and again, trying to judge from her gasps and moans how near she was to the precipice.
“
Oh Nate… it…is…wonderful.” Her fingers dug deep into his flesh as her arms stiffened. He moved his hand under her buttocks, raising her hips to meet his thrusts.
“
Use your own fingers to pleasure yourself.” With only a moment’s hesitation and a slightly coy look, she let go of the grip she had on one of his arse cheeks and pushed her hand between them. He bit his lip, trying to concentrate on anything other than her delicate fingers moving between them, her knuckles brushing his own dark curls, her finger tips glancing off his hard staff as he withdrew from her.
Sarah made a low
, keening sound.
“
Well done, my darling,” he encouraged her, his own movements frantic. Should he stop to gather himself or keep going. He suspected a team of horses could not make him pull away from her now.
His hips had taken on a life of their own. He prayed she would climax as he blew away a curl that insisted on brushing against his eye. His rhythm faltered as her internal muscles began to pulse
. She arched her back again, calling his name so loudly that he wondered if the servants could hear.
His tempo faltered once more
, and conscious thought deserted him. He surrendered to the bliss of shedding his seed inside her willing, waiting body. The branding complete. The supplicant, hopefully, forgiven.
He held himself motionless, gritting his teeth as wave after wave of pleasure stole his ability to move or think or communicate.
It eased gradually, and he pressed in and out of her a few more times. After a while, he gathered her in his arms and moved her to lie atop him. He glanced at the fire. It would be fine for another ten minutes, then he really must put another log on.
