“You mean you want me inside you.” He practically growled the words.
“Yes, oh yes.” She shuddered and sank onto him, her hot depths cradling his erection through his trousers.
She arched against him, falling back in his arms, their hips pressed hard against each other. With a tug, he had her breasts free, and he took their sweetness into his mouth as if he were starved for the fruit of her. She kept thrusting and moving and squirming, sending them both higher and higher.
“Wait, wait,” he said hoarsely, fumbling between their bodies for his trouser buttons. He didn’t think, couldn’t think, about anything but being inside her.
With his erection free, he lifted her, then thrust inside so quickly that he took her virginity without any warning, any easing. She cried out, and he went completely still, in shock.
T
he pain was sudden and unexpected, and Susanna gasped. She thought she might have cried out, and by the stunned surprise on Leo’s face, perhaps she had. He was so deep inside her, stretching her, filling her, but the pain at least had begun to fade.
She hadn’t even known two people could make love like this.
“I’ve hurt you,” he said softly, tightly. “I forgot you hadn’t—”
“Or you believed I had slept with Roger Eastfield.” She gave a crooked smile.
He kissed her with tender worry, still searching her eyes. “No, I didn’t believe that for more than a moment.”
She laughed, embarrassed and uncertain now that her mindless passion had faded. “True, it would seem hard to believe that a free-spirited artist would take up with a spinster.”
He suddenly cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You are a woman who values herself highly, who doesn’t lose her control without deep provocation. Hell, you made your
husband
wait—of course you’d think through the consequences of an affair.”
The sting of grateful tears took her by surprise, but she couldn’t let him see that. Now that the shock had passed, she could feel him pulse within her, and the faintest tremble in his hands where they rested on her cheeks.
It was her turn to cup his face. “Don’t stop, I want to feel it all . . .”
He shuddered as if it were difficult to hold himself back. “I’ll try to be careful.”
“Leo, I’m not a fragile teacup. My virginity is gone—and shouldn’t that be the worst part?”
He kissed her hard, then lifted her body, almost completely separating them. Just as she was about to protest, he surged back inside.
There was no pain, only an arrow of pleasure that made her say, “Oh!”
He gave her a triumphant grin, then bent her over his arm to tease her breasts, and there went the last of her reasoning. She felt his hot mouth suckling her nipples, his teeth even scraping against them, inducing a violent spasm of gratification. His body surged over and over into hers. She caught the motion and met him eagerly, using her thighs to lift herself, then come down to meet each ascent. Passion wound her higher, and she recognized it now, welcomed it eagerly, pushing herself against him in ways that only made her need worse.
“Now, Susanna, now!” he said on a groan.
He urged her higher, faster, wilder, until her release shattered her. And it was only made better when he arched and gripped her hips hard, shuddering as he gave everything to her.
She collapsed into his embrace, head on his shoulder, arms linked loosely about his broad, damp back. The air heaved in and out of their lungs, the hair on his chest rubbing sensitively against her breasts. He was still deep inside her, and she wished she could somehow keep him there forever, that this perfect moment could be the sum of their marriage.
But she knew this was something he had done often—how many times she couldn’t even begin to imagine. It could not be as special for him as it was for her. He was the only man she’d ever wanted to risk her very soul with, and now she was married to him. She reminded herself that he’d wanted her badly, and it helped take some of the sting of melancholy away.
She simply had to keep the game going between them, to make him still excited and interested in her for as long as she possibly could.
At last she sat up slowly, and felt him go even deeper. His laughter was part groan.
“Does this mean we’re . . . making love again?” she asked.
“Oh, we will, believe me, sweetheart, but right now you need to recover. Hell,
I
need to recover.”
She found herself giggling, then gasped as he stood right up as if she weighed nothing. And still he held her hips to his, and they remained blissfully as one, with her chemise draped over his arms.
She stared at him wide-eyed. “This brings to mind so many possibilities.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
He walked to the bed and dropped her into the softness, shucking his trousers and climbing in beside her. She was ready to snuggle against him all night long, perhaps the first, deep restful night of sleep she’d had since Lord Bramfield had found them together.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked. “Or do you plan to sleep in your corset? Much as that pale blue of your first corset excited me to no end—”
“Really?” she asked, delighted.
“I expected plain spinster white, and when I saw it, I almost forgot myself. I chose this one specifically, because I knew it had some give.”
He knew it had “some give” because other women had worn the same kind for him. She could deal with that, she told herself, releasing the laces at her stomach. She’d known all along that he was a rake, that women lined up to spend a night in his bed. Now she knew why.
She had to find a way to make sure he never wanted another woman’s bed again.
When her corset and dressing gown were heaped on the floor, and only her lightweight chemise hid her from him, she turned toward him, feeling suddenly shy. Shy? Surely she’d conquered such childishness long ago.
He opened his arms to her. “Blow out the candle, sweetheart.”
A
s Madingley Court came into view two days later, Susanna watched Leo’s face.
When he saw the towering ducal palace of turrets and battlements and hundreds of windows reflecting the sun, he only grinned at her, and said, “If this is where you were raised, no wonder you prefer the country. It’s magnificent.”
She tried to smile as she settled back beside him.
He took her hand. “Your skin is chilled and damp.” He rubbed her hands between his. “Cold?”
“You know I’m not cold.”
“It’s your parents.”
“I love them deeply. But this situation . . . I am beginning to regret not writing them a letter. Perhaps they are still in the city. This could be a wasted trip.”
“It can’t be a waste to see where you spent most of your life. Your mother is the daughter of the late duke?”
“Yes. My uncle was the duke afterward, and now it’s my cousin, of course. Do you know him?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“He’s always been very focused on his duty,” Susanna mused, staring out the window again, her stomach doing a little dance of nerves. “He never used to enjoy himself much at all.”
“Unlike me,” Leo said dryly.
She gave him a swift glance. “You know that’s not what I meant.” If he could read, she guessed he would be a different sort of person, one who didn’t have to entrust his money to a hired man. Was this the moment to mention it, to ask?
“We’re almost there,” he said.
When he betrayed no emotion, she found herself studying him. “Am I the only nervous one?”
“You have nothing to be nervous about, for you were only reacting to a situation beyond your control. As for me, I will understand whatever your father feels he needs to say to me.”
Susanna briefly pressed his hand, then turned her head to see that the carriage had swept into the courtyard and beneath the columned roof of the portico. Servants swarmed to take down their trunks, a bewigged footman opened their door, and she breathed, “This is it.”
At the top of the stairs, Susanna broke form and gave the plump housekeeper a hug.
“It’s so good to see you, Miss Susanna,” Mrs. Townsend said, then her eyes widened on seeing Leo.
Susanna’s nerves bubbled higher. “Mrs. Townsend, this is Mr. Wade.” It wasn’t fair to name him her husband before revealing it to her parents.
Leo nodded to the servant and winked at Susanna as if he could read her mind.
“Are my parents here, Mrs. Townsend?”
“They only just arrived yesterday, miss. Much excitement in London delayed them.”
“What excitement?” Susanna asked tightly.
“I’ll let them give you the news,” the housekeeper said. “They’re in the drawing room awaiting an early dinner.”
Leo caught up with Susanna as Mrs. Townsend led them through the marble entrance hall lined with statues in recessed alcoves. “Calm down, Mrs. Wade,” he murmured in her ear.
“If one of your friends has done something—”
“She said ‘excitement.’ That doesn’t sound dreadful.”
Susanna realized she was panicking for nothing but couldn’t help her feelings. It wasn’t every day a woman faced her parents after an elopement. Surely they’d heard the embarrassing state she and Leo had been found in. Queasiness settled in on top of her nerves.
Mrs. Townsend opened the double doors to the drawing room, where crystal chandeliers hung beneath the painted frescoes on the ceiling. The naughty angels carved into the walk-in hearth seemed to be laughing at her.
But then she saw her parents, and their smiles and open arms made her feel so much better. She rushed to them, to be enveloped by both at the same time. Professor Leland’s hair had been the same auburn as Susanna’s before being touched by gray, and was as mussed as always. She smiled up at him as he kissed her cheek, and she felt as close as ever, as if nothing could come between them.
Except perhaps an embarrassing son-in-law.
Her mother, Lady Rosa, had regained the weight she’d lost when she’d thought her son dead, and looked the picture of health. Ever conscious of her girls’ need for a good marriage, she used to fuss over Susanna’s disinterest, until at last she’d focused all her attention on Rebecca’s coming out. With Matthew’s return, Susanna had smoothed out her relationship with her mother and even shown more interest in Society.
Susanna felt her mother stiffen, and knew her father looked over her head toward the door. Now they would tell her what they thought, that she’d embarrassed them, that Leo was hardly a suitable husband, and she’d have to explain that . . . she might eventually be happy.
“Good day, Mr. Wade,” her mother said slowly, pleasantly, but with obvious confusion.
They didn’t know! Susanna suddenly realized, and glanced wide-eyed at Leo. If they didn’t know, perhaps no one in London knew, but . . . how could that be possible?
Leo stepped forward and bowed, and behind him, Mrs. Townsend retreated and shut both doors.
Her father stepped toward Leo, his spectacles glittering in a sudden shaft of the setting sun. “I don’t believe we’ve met, sir.” He spoke in a reserved voice that told Susanna he’d definitely heard a story or two about Leo’s escapades.
Susanna knew there could be so many ways to reveal the truth, and most of them involved delaying. But she couldn’t. “Papa, allow me to introduce Mr. Leo Wade, my husband.”
That caught her father in the act of politely bowing, and he froze, then turned to stare at her. Lady Rosa gasped and clutched her husband’s arm.
Wearing a smile, Leo bowed. “I am honored to meet you, Professor.”
Oh, if only his dimples didn’t make him look so very amused in an inappropriate way. He seemed somehow larger to her, even in the immense drawing room, a man who drew everyone’s eye with his bold handsomeness and easy confidence. What was
she
doing with such a man?
“Your . . . husband?” her mother breathed. “Oh, Susanna, what did you do?”
Susanna hesitated, knowing she had not planned for this surprised reaction at all. Hadn’t someone seen them kissing at Lord Bramfield’s? Why hadn’t that person gleefully spread the news all over London?
And then Leo rescued her, linking arms and smiling down at her so sweetly that her heart simply tumbled in her chest. No, no, she could
not
fall in love with him, she told herself sternly, desperately.
“Professor Leland, Lady Rosa, it’s all my fault,” Leo said, his voice deep with sincerity.
What was he going to say? The complete truth would make everything worse.
“Your daughter and I spent much time together at Lord Bramfield’s country house party. I became so smitten with Susanna that I could not wait to make her my bride. I am profoundly grateful she agreed to have me. We have just returned from Scotland.”
She had to be strong, to make her parents see that everything would be fine. It was too late to change what had happened.
Thank God, they didn’t know what had
really
happened.
But her father’s lips were pressed together in a grim line. “You’ve mastered just the right tone for a man who’s stolen an innocent girl to wife without speaking to her parents.”
Leo opened his mouth, but Susanna quickly intervened. “Innocent girl? Papa, I am seven-and-twenty! You should be relieved at my good fortune.”
Lady Rosa sent several uncertain glances toward Leo, but she looked back at Susanna, wearing a trembling smile. “Are you happy, my dear girl? That is what matters most to me.”
“Yes, Mama, I am happy.” Susanna felt tears threaten, but it was only in relief that this homecoming had not gone too terribly wrong so far. And she truly was resolved to find a way to become happier.
Her mother looked between them, a tear spilling down her wrinkled cheek. She’d always wanted Susanna to marry. At least she did not show the rigid disapproval the professor did.