Everything Forbidden (4 page)

“Yes.” He shifted and actually looked a little uncomfortable. “Despite your claims that you know what goes on between a man and a woman, a lady like yourself may not realize that an unmarried man of my means and appetites often keeps a woman to fulfill his needs. I generally bring someone with me on my visits to the country, but this year I—” He stopped and his hot gaze settled fully on her mouth. “Well, I didn’t. If I am to sponsor your sisters, I shall expect you to repay me by becoming my mistress. One month of your ser vice for each sister I will sponsor.
Those
are the terms.”

“So you want me for the entire summer?” she whispered, staring with unseeing eyes at the floor.

“Yes. Your days and nights will belong to me.” His voice had gotten husky again and Miranda shot him a side glance. He was
looking at her just like she’d seen him look at all those other women he’d taken. A look of wanting. Waiting.

So
this
was what being desired felt like. Like a thousand hot prickles up and down her spine that made her body weep with need. She squirmed a little under his scrutiny, but her shifting only worsened the throbbing ache between her legs.

What he was asking for was madness and she would be a fool to agree. Giving up her virginity and then becoming her neighbor’s mistress would utterly ruin her for any other respectable man. If their bargain were discovered, it would probably also destroy her sisters’ chances at marrying well. They would certainly never be accepted into good society again.

And yet, she found herself thrilling at the prospect. Ever since the first afternoon she watched Ethan make love to one of his mistresses, she had secretly longed for that kind of passion. For desire that overflowed until it could no longer be contained. She wanted a man who would take her, force her pleasure, teach her to give him his own.

Those dark, dangerous wants were the biggest part of why she had turned down any proposal made for her hand, despite all the other theories about her refusals. She wasn’t cold, she wasn’t snobbish or even mercenary. In truth, she had simply looked at each man who offered for her and saw that they would want a proper wife. They would be a proper husband. They would be gentle and detached and not press their suit too often or too vigorously. If she said no, they would let it be. And if she dared to ask for more, they would be shocked.

Those men would make love to her not…not
fuck
her, as she
had heard Ethan call it so many times from her hiding place. She would never experience danger or daring at their hands.

With Ethan, she would. If she took his offer, if she gave herself over to him, he would teach her every sinful thing she had ever wanted to learn and more. He would make her shiver with release. He would never make her feel ashamed of her natural curiosities and desires. He would give her what she wanted.

And he would take whatever he desired in return. He would push her to her boundaries and far beyond.

That was the dangerous part of the offer. More dangerous, even, than having their agreement found out or being ruined.

“Do you have an answer, Miss Albright?” he asked softly.

“I have questions and stipulations of my own,” she replied. Her legs shook, so she crossed to the nearest chair and sat down, praying she looked calm and cool, not frightened and painfully aroused.

He chuckled. “Do you? So this is to be a negotiation?”

Nodding once, she said, “It must be. I have a great deal to lose.”

His taunting smile fell. “I suppose you do. So ask me your questions and we shall see if we can come to terms.”

She thrust her shoulders back and willed her hands not to tremble. He couldn’t see how much he moved her or else he would take more than she could give.

“Will you make our arrangement public?”

“No, of course not.” He took his own chair across from hers and sprawled out with lazy elegance. “I want you in my bed, not my opera box. No one need know of our arrangement.”

“Even your closest friends?”

He leaned forward and locked eyes with her. “No one, Miranda.”

She jumped. That was the first time he’d ever said her given name. It seemed to roll off his tongue like a caress, stroking over her body in a strange, powerful wave.

She forced herself to remain focused. “What of your servants?”

“They are judgmental, but completely trustworthy. I’ve been certain of that. There have been other women here who would be, shall we say,
harmed
if their visits here were revealed.”

Miranda nodded. That did make her feel better. Of course, Ethan would have to be discreet in the past. And if it came out that he had ruined her and then refused to marry her, that wouldn’t exactly cast him in a fine light anyway. So she trusted his secrecy, if nothing else.

“Which leaves us with terms,” she said with a sigh. “I cannot be away from home for an entire summer with no one suspicious of my whereabouts, my lord. I, unlike your widows or courtesans, have a quite overbearing mother.”

“I am well aware.” Ethan leaned back with a shudder. “How shall I receive payment on my investment, then?”

She drew a deep breath. “What if I were only to come once a week? But I would stay the entire day and all night. You would have me for twenty-four hours and I…” She hesitated, unsure of the prudence of her next statement. But there was nothing to be done about it. She had no choice. “I will agree to do whatever you wish, whenever you wish during that twenty-four-hour period.”

Ethan straightened up in the chair as his face darkened with hot blood. For the first time in years he was actually shocked. Not horrified, but utterly surprised. The worst of it was that an innocent, willowy country miss had been the one to set him on his heels. She had no idea what she was offering. Or just how tempting that offer was.

Miranda drew a harsh breath and continued before he could interrupt. “The rest of the arrangement remains the same. Every four weeks, I will earn a Season for a sister. Will my utter surrender, within the new confines of the agreement, still suit you?”

Ethan groaned at her choice of words. Utter surrender. What images that conjured. This young woman, spread out on his bed, arching beneath him. Covering him. Having her in every wicked way until she begged for more. Until he had his fill. Debauching her completely.

But that was the rub, wasn’t it? Miranda wasn’t just a lovely widow he could use and discard without doing any damage. He might not have much honor, but he knew what this arrangement could do to Miranda’s reputation. The last thing he wanted was for her to come back to him later, making accusations and demands for reparation. If he was going to accept her proposition, something he couldn’t believe he was even considering, he would have to be sure she understood exactly what surrender meant to him.

“Once you give me your innocence, you will severely hinder your choices in the future,” he said, shifting in the uncomfortable chair. The damn erection this chit had caused was raging now, fed by all the images she was creating with her
offer.

“There is more to be experienced in life than marriage,” she said with a little shrug. “Once my family is situated, I could become a governess. Or a lady’s companion. Or…or perhaps I’ll even decide to remain a mistress, once my sisters are all married, of course.”

Ethan shoved out of his chair hard enough that it rocked back. A mistress. So he would be training her to please other men, was that it?

“Do you even know what that means?” he barked, surprised by the tone and strength of his voice. “Do you have any concept of what you are proposing?”

She got up, too, and held out her hands in a motion of surrender that matched her earlier words. “Of course I do.”

He stepped forward and grasped her elbows, yanking her against him until the entire length of her willowy frame touched his. She was taller than he had realized. Her forehead was
even with his lips and he had a height advantage on most men.

“You don’t understand anything,” he growled, holding her firm against him with one arm while he tilted her chin up with his hand. “Once you do this, there will be no going back. You’ll never be the same. I don’t want you to come crying to me later with your regrets.”

Her full bottom lip trembled, but she held his gaze evenly as she croaked out, “I stopped crying a long time ago. Once we begin, I won’t wish to go back. I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, unable to deny himself any longer. “But you will, little innocent. You will.”

He crushed his mouth against hers as the last sentence slipped from his lips. She remained stiff for a moment in his arms, her hands trapped between their bodies, still fisted against his chest. Her entire body was like glass in his arms. Unbendable, only breakable. Despite all the passion he could feel pulsing below the surface, her reaction wasn’t something that moved him. Not when it was clear she wasn’t at all ready for what he had to offer.

He was about to pull away when something happened. In an instant, she let go of all the tension, the shock, the missish denials he was sure she wanted to say now that her resolve was actually being tested. All of that bled away and she softened. Her legs tangled between his and her hips molded to him. Her hands unclenched to caress his chest and slid up to his shoulders as her breasts flattened against him. And her lips, the lips that had been cold and flat and unyielding, suddenly parted.

Ethan forgot whatever lesson he was trying to teach her as he darted his tongue inside. She tasted sweet. A bit of tea, a whisper of mint, a hint of something citrus. All those things
combined and burst on his tongue as he took her kiss and demanded even more.

But Miranda wasn’t fighting him. Not like he had expected her to. And she wasn’t allowing him to just take from her, either. Instead, as he swirled his tongue around hers, her fingers moved up to tangle in his hair, her mouth moved, her tongue teased and playing with his as the kiss spiraled deeper and deeper.

And finally, just when Ethan thought a first kiss couldn’t be any sweeter, her hips thrust up and the juncture of her thighs stroked over his cock. His eyes flew open and he looked down at her, even as he continued to kiss her. Her eyes were shut and her face was utterly innocent. All the things she was doing came from pure instinct.

But how far would that instinct go? Would she truly surrender to him completely, despite the consequences?

There was only one way to find out for certain.

He cupped his hands over her backside, lifting her against him in a rhythmic motion. Somehow he expected her to bolt away, but instead she broke the kiss to tilt her head back over her shoulders with a long, shuddering sigh of pleasure.

His blood heated, churning wildly as he adjusted their positions and guided her toward the settee. They fell back against the lush cushions and his body weight pushed her far into the pillows. But still, she didn’t demand that he stop. Instead, she settled back and simply looked up at him. Her expression was slightly dazed, a little dreamlike. As if she couldn’t believe this was happening.

Neither could he. But he didn’t want to stop it, either.

“If you do this, you’ll have to surrender all the lessons you’ve been taught about prudence—”

He accentuated the statement by stripping open the buttons along the front of her dress with one skilled movement. The fabric parted and revealed a tantalizing glimpse of soft, pale flesh.

“All you believe about modesty,” he continued as he slipped a hand into the gaping gown and stroked his fingers along the edge of her worn cotton chemise. Miranda’s eyes went wide as his fingers danced below the chemise neckline and stroked across the swell of her breasts.

“I will
demand
passion.”

He tugged and her chemise slithered downward, revealing the perfect globe of one bare breast.

Miranda’s face flamed as Ethan stared at what he had exposed, but she didn’t look away from his face. She made no move to cover herself.

He watched as his fingers, dark against her pale skin, circled around her flesh. Her breasts were small, but that fit her tall, slender frame better than large, heavy ones would have. He liked that he could cover the entire mound with one palm. As he did so, Miranda’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh,” she gasped, fingers clenching at the settee cushion beneath her.

“You cannot just lay there and ‘endure’ my touch, then expect I shall count that as payment,” he continued, watching high color darken her cheeks when he massaged her flesh. So very responsive. He wondered what she would do if he flicked a thumb over her nipple just…like…so.

Her eyes flew open and she looked at him wildly as a gasp escaped her lips.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he pressed, stroking
his thumb over her rapidly hardening nipple over and over again. Her back arched. “I don’t want some frigid martyr.”

Not that she was turning out to be frigid in the least.

Miranda’s breaths came in pants. “I-I’m no martyr, my lord. I may be doing this for my family, but…but there are other reasons.”

He stopped plucking at her nipple and looked into her flushed face. “What other reasons?”

“I want…” She squirmed a little and her blush darkened. “I want
this
. I want you to touch me. I want to feel alive. I want to know pleasure. Please, please don’t deny me that.”

Ethan stared at Miranda, her face so open, so honest. This truly wasn’t a game to her, as it was for so many of the women he had bedded over the years. She didn’t make this request out of boredom or only because of her desperation. To her, his touch was…an awakening.

Her fingers came up to curl around the nape of his neck. A gentle touch as she stroked the skin revealed between his collar and hairline.

“Please,” she whispered.

Ethan’s mouth came down and silenced her further pleas. He pushed harder now, driving his tongue into her mouth and mating with her like he would soon mate with her body. He wanted to drink her in. Fill himself with her. Drown in that lilac scent and unique flavor.

Miranda rose up and tugged Ethan’s hard body down upon hers even tighter. It was like heaven to feel his weight on her, just as she had imagined it would be so many times. It made her feel
alive
and that was worth any price.

His hand found her bare breast again and he resumed the gentle, rhythmic strumming of her taut nipple. Miranda had touched herself many times, especially after watching Ethan with his lovers, but she’d never spent much time on her breasts. She’d never realized how sensitive they were, or how the pleasure she felt when he stroked her nipple went down through her body. She could feel it between her legs, throbbing in time to his touch.

Ethan pushed at the rest of her gown, easing it over her shoulders and leaving it in a pool at her waist between them. Miranda arched her back to offer him free access. She wasn’t ashamed. In fact, she was
proud
of the way he looked at her. Proud of the desire that lit up in his dark eyes. She aroused him, and considering his lengthy experience, that was a triumph.

A triumph soon forgotten when he gave her a wicked grin and dropped his hot lips to one of her straining nipples. He drew her between his lips and swirled his rough tongue over the exquisitely sensitive tips.

Miranda cried out at the pleasure this new exploration caused. Wet heat, hot tingles, focused pleasure…they overtook her, rushing through her. Her pussy clenched at emptiness and wetness flooded her thighs as he sucked hard, almost hard enough to hurt.

“No one has ever done these things to you?” he murmured against her skin before he gave her swollen nipple a little bite and moved to the other side.

“No, never,” she moaned, thrashing her head on the pillows as he licked her like a cat.

He looked up and she couldn’t tell if he was pleased or both
ered by that confession. But he didn’t stop pleasuring her, drawing out sensations that she’d never felt before. Doing things she’d only witnessed from afar and imagined in her darkest dreams.

His hands slid down as his mouth continued its wicked work. Long, warm fingers stroked her rib cage, her belly, and finally hooked her crumpled gown and began to shove it away entirely. She lifted her hips to aid the descent and quickly found herself entirely naked except for her stockings and slippers.

As Ethan pulled back to look at her, she flashed briefly to the memory of the first time she saw him by the lake. His lover had been similarly clad, white slippers thrown over his shoulders as he drove into her. Would Miranda soon be in the same position?

Her body clenched at the thought and Ethan’s eyebrows both went up before his hands came back down on her skin. This time, he placed the flat of his palm on one thigh. She trembled at the intimate touch, but didn’t recoil. She could see he was surprised by that, by her lack of shyness and shock. But, then, he had no idea of all the ways she had been tutored in passion. Of all the fantasies she had lived in her mind over the past few years.

He was gentle as he urged her legs open, wider and wider until she was on display before him. Miranda studied his face as he, in turn, studied her body. She loved how desire flickered in his gaze, making his face more alive with feeling. She loved how his shoulders tensed with the effort it was taking him to go slow. How she could see the harsh, insistent ridge of his erection pressing against the fine fabric of his trousers.

His hands slipped up from her thighs and he cupped her sex with one hand. Now that she was bare, the sensation was multi
plied, powerful. No one else had ever touched her like that. Only her own fingers had explored her folds, burrowed deep inside.

His touch was far more pleasurable. Ethan teased her, stroking her with the flat of his palm first, light pressure meant to acclimate her to the intimacy of his hands. But as she parted her lips with a sigh of pleasure, the pressure intensified and changed.

Ethan parted her folds, opening her to his fingers. He glided one across the wet slit. Miranda’s hips bucked of their own accord and the action forced the thick digit inside of her body.

They both froze, locking gazes. This was it. This was what Miranda had been dreaming about for years. And now Ethan had breeched her body with his own, not with his cock, no, but he was inside of her nonetheless. Nothing would ever change that. Nothing would ever take it away.

And nothing had ever felt so good. He slipped into her past his second knuckle and gently stroked, curling his finger toward himself like he was beckoning her to surrender.

She was helpless to resist the temptation. She let her head fall back against the settee pillows as she gave in to the foreign, powerful sensations. He stretched her untried channel, opening her, awakening her in ways she had only imagined. Every stroke of his fingers made her all the more aware of her body and of the tingling pressure mounting between her thighs.

He slipped another finger inside to join the first and Miranda gasped. God, she felt so full. So wickedly wanton, spread out naked on his settee while he pumped his fingers in and out of her body. The sensation was overwhelming, far more potent than when she did the same action herself.

Ethan could sense how close Miranda was to release. It was etched on the strained lines of her face and the glazed focus of her gaze. And her body spoke of her impending orgasm as well. Her pussy clenched like a vice and her juices flowed over his fingers.

His cock throbbed in time, needs whispering at him to take. Claim. Forget everything except burying himself deep inside of her.