Falling Into Bed with a Duke (Hellions of Havisham) (14 page)

She dropped the pins to the floor without ceremony. When she felt the weight of the strands shifting, the mask loosening, she turned her back on him in case the mask slipped too far before she could catch it. She heard his sharp intake of breath as her hair tumbled to her backside. Securing the mask, keeping her hands in place, she spun back around to face him.

“I thought I knew what you looked like,” he said. “Based on the flow of the silk you wore. I was wrong. You’re far lovelier than I imagined.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, to his compliments, to his praise. Slowly, she lowered her arms, feeling powerful and in control because she wasn’t self-conscious with his perusal.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked.

“Pardon.”

“My clothing. Didn’t you claim you were going to rip it from my body?”

“What would you wear home if I did that?” she asked, slipping her hands beneath the opening of his jacket, flattening them against his chest, taking immense satisfaction in his sharp intake of breath. She eased her hands up, gliding them over his shoulders, down his arms, neither of them reaching for the jacket when it tumbled to the floor.

She began unbuttoning his waistcoat with fingers she didn’t expect to be so steady.

“No nerves,” he said. So he’d noticed.

Lifting her gaze to his, she gave him what she hoped was a saucy smile. “I want this.”

“It’s taking too long.” While she unknotted his cravat, he began working on the buttons of his shirt. Then he drew everything over his head, exposing a finely shaped torso.

Her fingers did tremble now as she touched the horrid, ragged scar on his left shoulder. “Mr. Alcott didn’t exaggerate.”

“Pardon?”

She jerked her gaze up to his, saw the question there. Without thinking, she’d made a mistake, might have revealed herself had she said more. “I was at Lady Greyling’s when she welcomed you all back. I heard his tales, saw your photographs. They were the reason I changed my mind about posing for you.”

“We didn’t speak there. I would have remembered. Your voice is quite distinctive.”

She released a slow breath of relief. “I’m a wallflower at events such as that.”

“More’s the pity. And it seems my scars have dampened the mood. Climb on the bed. I’ll see to the rest.”

“I don’t find them hideous. They’re a symbol of courage.”

“More arrogance than courage. When captured by their beauty, I find it easy to forget that jungle creatures are wild.” He held her chin, kissed her. “I’m anxious to discover how wild a creature you might be. Get on the bed.”

Not so wild since she hesitated at the thought of removing his trousers. She gave a curt nod. As she clambered onto the satin sheets, aware of the tinkling of chains at her ankle, he began going around the bedstead, loosening the ties. The heavy velvet swung effortlessly into place, slowly enclosing her in the darkness.

Sitting there, she drew her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and listened to the muffled tread of his footsteps as he went around the room, no doubt extinguishing candle flames. She heard the thud of a boot dropping, then another. Straining her ears, she listened to the rasp of cloth as he shucked his trousers, but suddenly all was silent, all was quiet.

“Is the mask gone?”

She startled at the deepness of his voice, just on the other side of curtain. “Are your trousers?”

“They are.”

She could have sworn she heard a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Come on, V, I’m dying to ravish you.”

Taking a deep breath, she reached back and loosened the ribbons that held her disguise in place. Stretching out on her knees, she set it in a corner at the foot of the bed. Surely it would be safe there.

“I’m ready,” she said softly.

The darkness parted to reveal deep shadows. She barely made out the form of a large man. The bed moaned as he climbed onto the mattress, the drapes closing behind him.

Snaking an arm around her, he drew her flush against him, flesh to flesh, from shoulder to toes, the heated length of him pressed hard against her belly. Unerringly, his mouth captured hers, and he plundered.

S
HE’D almost given herself away. He’d almost told her that he knew who she was. But for whatever reason, she needed the secrecy, didn’t trust him with the truth. Although at that moment, rakehell that he was, he cared only that she trusted him with her body.

Ashe intended to ensure she had no regrets on that score.

He cursed the blasted darkness. He’d wanted to do more than lightly trail a finger over her skin when she was bared to him, but he’d known that if he cupped a perfectly formed breast, pinched a pale pink nipple, buried his fingers in the curls between her thighs that he’d have not been able to hold himself in check. That he would have tossed her on the bed and had his way with her then and there.

But he’d wanted the damnable mask gone.

So now there was nothing to interfere with his enjoying her completely. Thrusting his hand into her thick, curling hair, he held her head in place while he thoroughly kissed every nook and cranny of her mouth. She tasted of wine and strawberry, decadence and desire. And she didn’t hold back. She was exploring his mouth with equal measure, her fingers digging into his shoulders, his back. She was a match for any man, and some faulted her for it. More the fools were they. Her enthusiasm was unrivaled, her eagerness incomparable. And he’d almost turned her away for being a virgin.

More the fool would he have been.

But then he’d spoken to her at Greyling’s, been intrigued. A woman who knew her own mind, a woman of daring and courage and candor. Well, perhaps not all candor. She wouldn’t reveal her identity. As much as he wished she would, he understood her hesitation. What was happening between them now would be frowned upon by polite Society. While she claimed she wouldn’t marry, if her visits to the Nightingale were discovered, marriage would absolutely no longer be an option. She would be an outcast, not even welcomed into ballrooms or parlors.

So he didn’t blame her for her caution. He would hold her secrets. All of them. Each one that he was uncovering.

The softness of her skin as he dragged his hand along her spine. The round firmness of her bottom as he cupped and squeezed it. The way her breast filled his palm as he cradled it. The sensitivity of the area just below her ear as he kissed it. Her sweet moan as she pressed her body more firmly into his. The hard peak of her nipple as his tongue circled it before he closed his mouth around it. The echo of her sighs, the feel of her sole rubbing his calf. The hot dew that coated his fingers as he tested her readiness.

Bracketing his hands on either side of her ribs, he buried his face between the pliant mounds of her bosom. He hated the thought of causing her any discomfort.

She threaded her fingers through his hair. “Ashe?”

“Are you certain you’ll have no regrets?”

“I’ll only regret if you stop.” He heard her swallow. “I want you inside me.”

In spite of the darkness, he squeezed his eyes tight and groaned low. Her words hardened him further. He’d already sheathed himself. He kissed the inside of one breast, then the other. “Then prepare yourself, sweetheart. I’m about to drive you mad.”

A
BOUT to? He’d already accomplished that feat. Every inch of her that he’d touched yearned to be touched again, every nerve ending was straining for what she knew he could deliver, for the pleasure that had rocketed through her before. She luxuriated in touching him, the areas she could reach, caressing her fingers over the flexing and bunching muscles.

With his mouth and fingers, he taunted. He kissed, he suckled, he nipped. Until she was writhing beneath him, until she was striving to meld her body with his, until she felt the push of his hardness against her heated opening. She stilled.

“Don’t tense,” he commanded, withdrawing. “Don’t think of what’s coming, just think of what is.”

She nodded, realized he couldn’t see the movement. Bringing up her legs, she wrapped them around his hips, heard the clink of tassels bumping together. “All right. But I’m ready for you. I know I am.”

“I know you are, too, but there’s no hurry.”

“I thought you liked it rough and hard. Or was it rough and fast?”

“We’ll have an opportunity for that later. We have lots of time.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He slid up her, took her lobe between his teeth, and she moaned low.

“You’re in my arms,” he whispered hoarsely. “How could I be disappointed?”

She embraced him tightly. He’d said there were no falsehoods in his bed, and yet the words were hard to believe even though he uttered them with such conviction. Why couldn’t she have had this without a mask and shadows?

And what a silly woman she was to lament what she hadn’t possessed and not enjoy what she presently did. She had it now: his devotion, his desire. It didn’t matter that it would only be for tonight. The memory would carry her through to her dotage.

She became aware of the pressure again, the slow easing in slightly, easing out. His mouth on hers, drawing her away from everything except the glory of it. She thought of the fortune hunters. Would they have been this patient? Would they have taken their time? Or would they have simply pounded into her in order to proclaim duty met?

He rose above her, his hips undulating, each movement taking him deeper. She felt herself stretching to accommodate him, the discomfort so minimal as to barely be noticeable. His breathing became harsher, his arms trembling slightly. She ran her hands over his chest, aware of the taut muscles, the strain.

A final hard thrust that went deeper than any of the others. He stilled. Beneath her fingers, she felt some of the tenseness ease. He took her mouth in a hard quick kiss.

“You didn’t cry out.”

She squeezed her legs against his hips. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“High praise indeed for my talents.”

She blew out a puff of laughter, reached up, and bracketed his face between her hands. “I love the way it feels to have you buried inside me.”

His growl resounded around them; she felt it quivering in his throat. “I absolutely adore your forthrightness.”

Then his mouth was on hers again, and he began pumping his hips between her thighs, hard and fast. Sensations that had been hovering erupted into a burst of awareness and pleasure. Everything within her coiled and tightened.

He broke off the kiss, his movements quickening, and she became lost in the rapture, vaguely aware of screaming his name as a cataclysm engulfed her. He groaned, low, feral, and deep with a final thrust and a shuddering of his body. Taking quick breaths, he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Not fair,” she panted lethargically. “You didn’t scream out my name.”

“Because you stole my breath.”

Rolling off her onto his back, he brought her up close against his side, nestling her face in the crook of his shoulder, draping her leg over his thigh. She thought she should say something more, thank him. But she seemed capable of only drifting off to sleep.

S
HE didn’t know how long she slept, but she awoke to his arm still around her, his free hand toying with strands of her hair. She wished she didn’t require the darkness, but she wanted nothing to ruin what had just passed between them.

“Was it all you expected?” he asked.

“How did you know I was awake?”

“Your eyelashes fluttered against my chest.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well?”

“More so. It doesn’t seem right that women can’t experience it outside of marriage.”

“Obviously, there are women who do.”

“But if they are caught, there are repercussions.” She eased up, placed her chin on his chest, and narrowed her eyes, trying to discern his silhouette. “For someone with an aversion to virgins, you certainly handled matters well.”

“Do you hurt?”

“I’m a little sore. Nothing I can’t live with. But how did you know the best way to ease things for me?”

“I have a friend who doesn’t share my aversion. I asked him about his experiences.”

She stiffened.

“Relax. I didn’t tell him why, and he was drunk. He won’t remember the conversation.”

Edward Alcott, no doubt.

“If you’re hungry, I’ll bring some food over,” he said.

“No, I should probably be going home now. My father is an early riser.”

“Are you done with me, then? Or would you like another night?”

Disappointment laced his voice. Moving up until she was half-draped over him, she laid her palm against his jaw. It was bristled now. “I never thought I could be so comfortable being completely naked with a man.”

“You’re not completely naked.”

Lifting her foot, she gave it a little shake, letting the tinkling of gold echo around them. “I don’t know that it’s wise to see you again. There is a risk I’ll get caught. It was always only supposed to be one night.”

He latched onto her hair, drew her down for a kiss. “And if I want more?”

There was more than the risk of getting caught. There was the risk of getting with child. “You told me that you only select a lady once.”

“As I said, I make exceptions for you. Besides, you’re not a fool. You know no other man can satisfy you as I do.”

She cradled his roughened jaw. “You are so arrogant. You have spoiled me for other men. I won’t be with other men.” But she couldn’t continue in this vein either.

“We don’t have to meet here. We could meet at my residence. It’s more private. But I want to know who you are.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Send me a missive if you change your mind. You know where to find me.”

“Are you angry?”

“Disappointed; although perhaps it serves me right that you should only want me for a night. I never considered how the ladies I selected felt afterward, knowing our time was done. I rather regret being such a bastard.” Rising, he placed a quick kiss against her lips. “Don the mask, sweetheart, let’s get you home.”

Then he was gone, slipping out between the part in the draperies. She contemplated for all of three seconds following him out, leaving the mask behind. But in the end, she snatched it up and secured it.