An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6) (26 page)

BOOK: An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6)
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She was wicked.

She swept her hands up the torso hovering immobile above her and marveled at Martin’s restraint and determination not to hurt her more than necessary. His skin was slick and hot and his body tense. If he didn’t continue now, she’d scream.

After a long moment, he met her gaze. “Are you all right?”

She nodded swiftly and rocked her hips experimentally in an attempt to make him move. He’d made her wait so long for this moment she was anxious that he was pleased. “Yes. Are you?”

He smothered a laugh against her hair and drew back his hips in a long slide that made her moan. “Very satisfied.”

Iris didn’t possess the knowledge to tell him what she wanted in words, so she covered his chest in kisses, ran her hands all over his hot skin and wriggled beneath him. Desiring him had been easy; making love to him was all she wanted for the rest of her life.

When he held back from her a little too long, she feared he would stop entirely. Iris pressed the heels of her feet against his bottom and forced him to slide back inside her again. When he reached her limit, he eased back immediately then repeated the short thrust. He kept up a steady assault on her body and she loved each and every sensation swamping her.

Iris wrapped her arms about his shoulders and held on, loving the feel of him inside her. Tomorrow she might be sore but for now she was restless with need. She tangled her fingers in his short hair and brought his lips to hers again. The thrust of his tongue was met by her own and she chuckled softly against his mouth. Was there anything he could do to displease her?

The glide of his manhood quickened and the slap of his thighs against hers brought an ache where they joined. Would she experience another release so soon? She hoped so. Making love to him was heavenly.

Martin rose above her, fists pressed into the mattress as he possessed her with steady thrusts. There was a question in his gaze and she answered it with a smile. He could continue. He could make her body his all night long and she’d never complain. His hips rotated on the next thrust and her breath caught as undeniable lust shot through her body.

Restless and unable to hold Martin when he kept such a distance, Iris let her hands slide down his muscular arms and let one fall to her own chest. He pressed deeper and rolled his hips, but his attention followed her hand. Iris cupped her own breast as he had done and toyed with the nipple. She’d never imagined her breasts could be so sensitive but with Martin hard inside her and watching, she moaned softly.

He caught her around the neck, rocked back onto his knees mid-stroke and brought her over his lap. The new position sank her deeper onto him and she shuddered. Her release was near. “Help me,” she whispered.

Martin bucked beneath her, taking over her ability to think with his wild thrusts. He touched between her legs and she flew apart violently. She shrieked and shook in his arms, clenching him in the heat of passion.

“Fuck.” His curse blistered her ears and the big man clutched her against him, chest heaving, body slick and blisteringly hot as his seed exploded inside her. Iris hung there, impaled and panting against her husband’s warm skin, so overcome that she could barely move. She didn’t
want
to move from his arms.

At last, he set her aside on the mattress. She winced as he withdrew from her body and she hugged her legs together to blunt the discomfort as Esme had suggested might help.

“Iris?”

She smiled up at her handsome husband, touched his face. “I made the right decision.”

His expression grew dark. “You made a foolish one.”

Iris frowned. “How so?”

“Now that you’ve shared my bed, and so thoroughly too, I will want you again.”

Oh, to make love like that again, so totally the focus of his attention and of her own. She sighed. “I do hope so.”

“I have no excuse.”

Iris scrambled to sit up, ignoring the discomfort of her body in the face of his shocking suggestion. “I don’t want there to be any doubts between us. I wanted to make love to you so much and will not be made to feel ashamed by that.”

He seemed taken aback by her suggestion. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Iris wrapped herself around him. “You won’t.”

He shifted to the edge of the bed and Iris was hard pressed not to stare at his manhood, which had not softened to any considerable degree. There was so very much of him, and all of it deliciously naked.

His head fell to her shoulder. “A gentleman should have control and you shredded mine.”

Iris grinned. What proper lady enjoyed being thoroughly debauched by her husband that she’d offer herself again and again? She was wicked and sinful and utterly unrepentant. She lifted his chin and met her husband’s gaze. She saw the fear in his eyes. Couldn’t he understand that no matter the outcome, she wanted to be his wife in every way possible? That meant having his child. His heir. Loving them all. Even the one he wouldn’t admit to yet. “And you took mine the day we kissed. I’ve no interest in being held on a pedestal and only allowed close on special occasions.”

He frowned at her.

“No, don’t say another word. It’s been a long day and you promised to spend the night with me.” She scrambled to her knees. “Get back into bed or you’ll ruin everything.”

He considered her a long moment and then slid under the comforter. His gaze slid over her nakedness. He touched her thigh then held up his hand to show her the blood. “I hurt you.”

She set her hands to her hips, furious with him for stating the obvious. “At least you have ample proof I was an innocent.”

Iris swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped into her adjoining room to tend to her needs. When she returned, Martin appeared pensive. “I never doubted your innocence.”

“Shh,” she whispered as she crawled under the comforter next to him. “I know you didn’t, but I am fine and the next time will be even better.”

Iris cuddled up against his warmth, resting her head on his arm and letting her topmost hand slide down his side then drop to cover his erection. She played with him a moment, earning a groan for her teasing, and marveled that he was still so obviously in need. One night would never be enough to appease her hunger, and certainly not his. He’d held back.

Given enough time, enough insistence, she would win him over but for now she closed her eyes. She was too tired to argue about the depths of pleasure he’d given her and what the future could bring.

Twenty-One

Iris stood aside as footmen carried away the large, empty copper tub from her father’s bedchamber. She waited at the door as he took in his surroundings again, wide-eyed with surprise, as if a child transported to a place he’d never imagined. Like Iris, he was having trouble believing he was outside the Marshalsea this morning and once more living in a fine home where he could have anything he wanted. “Is there anything you need?”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. When he rubbed the arms of the deep-blue brocade banyan that clothed him now, a hastily purchased garment, like all of his new possessions were, her heart ached.

Iris grasped the door handle and pushed it shut to keep the servants from returning. When she approached him and captured his hand, she discovered he was shaking. “It’s all right.”

He nodded, staring at her in consternation. “I never expected this when I woke up.”

She squeezed his fingers and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Every day since his arrival had been the same for him. Surprise and confusion filled him. “Father, you have been a guest here for two days. You might not remember but we must be very grateful to Lord Louth for paying off your debts.”

“My debts? Yes, I see, but…” He bit his lip and then released her to wander around the room. “We had such a slight acquaintance for him to do so much.”

“He paid your debts as a wedding present to me, I think.” She had her father out of that terrible place and far away from the danger Talbot presented. There were no words to describe her relief. He would never need to venture into proper society again either, if he didn’t want to, or wasn’t capable of managing the chore. He could put the past behind him and concentrate on getting better. And she would put the past behind her too she hoped, but only if Talbot was caught red-handed.

 
“Are you sweethearts?” Her father grinned, his eyes widening in amusement at the idea. He spoke in a teasing voice and wagged a finger at her. “Mama won’t like that.”

Iris froze. “Lord Louth, Martin, is my husband. I married him here in this house. You were there to see me marry. You said you were proud of me becoming a countess. I am a countess now.”

“Oh, I see. Lady Louth, is it?” He made a strange noise, a tease that hinted she was giving herself airs she didn’t deserve. He walked away to peek out the window. “Well, only a wealthy and a well-connected young man will do for you, I suppose?”

She did not like the way her father reverted to childlike behavior these past few days. He’d never teased her before. It wasn’t right and was sure to be noticed. Iris wrung her hands then joined him at the window to see what interested him so much. “He also makes me very happy and I care for him.”

There was nothing outside but the press of people going about their lives.

“Love?” Her father scowled and studied his nails. “A wealthy husband you shall have, if I have my way, as such emotions do not last.”

Her father had loved her mother and she had thought he had cared for his second wife too. Iris had never been particularly close to the woman and especially not after she’d left her father because he couldn’t pay her dressmakers bill. She had not realized the extent of his bitterness. “Why do you say that?”

“Experience. Love is for fools.” Before Iris could respond, a tap sounded on the door. Her father bid entry as if he were himself again and had not just teased her like a mean little boy. Two footmen waited in the doorway, one holding a heaped tea tray. “Mr. Gibbs sent us, Mr. Hedley.”

“By all means, come in. Come in.” He peered at the tray. “What have we here?”

The footman laid out food and teacups on the drop-sided table set against the window in silence. Duties done, they exited the room, leaving her father grinning. Gibbs, bless him, had sent up enough cake to last her father several days, judging by the quantity provided. Iris moved to serve. She poured the tea in the fine china cups, and then chose a thick slice of strawberry cake for her father and placed it on the pretty matching plate. “Come and eat.”

He stared at the plates then stretched for a covered bowl. “Sugar.” The word was whispered reverently and he snatched up the sugar bowl and held it to his chest. “This of everything I have missed the most.”

Iris laughed softly and took the sugar bowl from him. “Well, there is no shortage of sweets to please your palate today.”

She handed him a silver spoon and as he heaped six teaspoons of sugar into his cup, she started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. He’d not missed his gleaming black carriage, the dozen footmen he’d employed to fetch and carry, nor his second wife or their home. He’d missed sugar.

His teaspoon grated against the china cup as he stirred, a huge and satisfied smile gracing his lips. When he eventually stopped, he picked up his cup and slurped his tea loudly. “Ah, that is what I needed most of all. Apologies for my bad manners.”

“Quite all right.” She leaned close to him, amazed by how different he could sound in so short a time. “It can be our secret.”

He grabbed his slice of strawberry cake next and took a generous bite. His smile while he ate was one of wonder and with a start she discovered her father likely hadn’t eaten so richly in several years. When he was close to done, she handed over the plate of lemon tarts. “Another?”

He was quick to help himself to two and as he munched and sipped his oversweet tea, his animation waned. “When is the innkeeper bringing our luggage from the carriage?”

Iris pinched the bridge of her nose. “Father, please. We are at home in Holly House with Lord Louth. He is your son by marriage, not an innkeeper. Can you not remember to refer to him by his title as you used to do? Lord Louth. That’s his name.”

Her father shrugged and his mouth turned down at the corners. “What sort of man is he that keeps a man waiting so long?”

“He’s already spoken to you today. And you do like him, Father. He is a good man. Kind to his cousin, Miss Whitney Crewe. He has a fine sense of humor.”

That would be sorely tried if he spent even ten minutes with her father in his present state of confusion.

“He did boast he was well off.” Her father helped himself to another tea and slice of cake and stared at nothing as he filled his mouth. He glanced at her, and then hurried to finish. He stood, dropping an avalanche of crumbs to the floor. “I’m ready to go.”

“But you’ve only just arrived.”

“Did I? Oh, well. I cannot remember.” He patted his stomach while yawning. “Eating makes a man weary. I think I might take a short nap before dinner. It’s been an exciting day.”

“Of course,” she whispered. It was only ten in the morning but she’d reached her limit for trying to convince him of anything more. Iris hurried for the bed and turned back the covers so her father could rest comfortably lying down. “I’ll wake you so you have ample time to prepare for dinner.”

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