How I Married a Marquess (20 page)

He wanted to possess her, and
oh heavens
, she desperately wanted to let him! Giving herself to him would be wrong, sinful, dangerous. She would be ruined. But she didn't care. Deep in her heart, she knew there would never be a more wonderful man with whom to share this night than Thomas. She had long ago resigned herself to never having a husband to share her life, to never being loved, but she could have tonight. And even this one night with such a special man was more than she'd ever let herself dare to dream of having.

One night with him would be enough. It
had
to be. Because she couldn't bear not having him at all.

When she shifted her hips against his to declare her decision, she heard his answering groan from the blackness.

“We shouldn't do this,” he half growled, half whispered against her neck in weak protest.

“I need you, Thomas,” she breathed into the darkness, unable to find her voice. “As much as you need me.”

A shudder swept through him, and his hands tightened their hold on her, as if he were determined not to let her go even as he argued, “I am
not
one of those men, Josephine, those bastards who thought they could use you for their own pleasures.”

“I know. You're—”

Interrupting her, he cupped her face between his palms and kissed her deeply and tenderly, stirring a yearning inside her that she knew only he could satisfy.

“I want you so much, so much more than you realize.” He rested his forehead against hers and took deep, steadying breaths. “But I won't marry you.” Anguish laced his voice as he murmured into the darkness, the sound cutting deep into her heart, “I
can't
marry you.”

“I know.” Her chest panged at the raw honesty in his quiet admission, and she thanked God that he couldn't see the pain on her face. They had no future. She'd known the truth of that all along, yet knowing it hadn't stopped her from dreaming that a man like him might want her after all, just as it didn't stop the sharp rejection knotting agonizingly in her belly. Or dull her need for him.

But they had this night, the one they'd been destined to share since the moment their eyes met across the ballroom. Fate had cheated her out of so much because of her birth; she refused to be cheated out of this, too.

Her body ached for his, throbbing and trembling to have him impossibly close to her, to have him inside her and his arms around her, making her feel wanted and safe. And yet—

“You can prevent…I mean…” She swallowed, hard, then stumbled over the words as they tumbled out in a rush, even now thinking of the orphans. “I've heard there are ways to prevent getting a child—because if we—if
I
were to—”

He silenced her with a soft touch of his lips to hers. “There are,” he assured her quietly.

“Then give me tonight.” She nuzzled her cheek against his palm, wanting the comfort she knew she'd find with him. “That's all I ask.”

“Josephine,” he murmured softly, then kissed her with such tenderness and longing that she shivered from the intensity of it. From the promise of what was to come.

Her hands grasped his caped greatcoat and pulled it over his shoulders, down his arms and back, to cast it away into the darkness. And then she hunted for the buttons on his waistcoat, fumbling as she struggled in the darkness.

“Let me.” His raspy voice floated down to her from unseen lips. His hands closed over her trembling fingers to remove them from his chest, and quickly he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shrugged it away onto the stone floor at their feet.

She reached blindly for him in the darkness, and sudden panic swelled inside her when she couldn't find him. “Thomas?”

“Yes?” he murmured. His mouth brushed along the side of her face as he lowered his head toward her and found her lips to kiss her again, heated and urgent.

She sighed with relief. “Don't lose me to the darkness.”

He froze for a heartbeat, one instant when every muscle in his body seemed to tighten. Then just as quickly he relaxed, and his lips smiled against hers. “I won't lose you, Jo. Don't you dare lose me.”

“Keep your hands on me, then.” She grasped his shirt in her fists and yanked it free of his breeches. With one palm resting against the warm skin beneath, she pulled it up over his head with the other hand and tossed it off into the darkness. “Keep touching me.”

He groaned. “Absolutely.”

His hand covered hers as it rested against his hard stomach, the muscles rippling as she flexed her fingertips against him, then he shifted away from her and bent down. She heard the soft thump of a boot hitting the floor, followed by its mate. A hot shiver slipped through her, like a silk ribbon unraveling from lace. He was undressing, and soon his attentions would turn to undressing her.

As he straightened, he brushed up along the length of her body, his mouth trailing up her throat to claim her mouth again, to mold her lips against his and steal another moan from her.

Emboldened by the darkness, her nervousness hidden from his experienced eyes, she stroked her hands down his bare chest, then leaned forward to trace her mouth after her fingers. When her seeking fingertips found one of his flat nipples, she dipped her head forward to flick her tongue over it before closing her lips around it and sucking gently. He inhaled through clenched teeth, and she thrilled at the reaction she stirred in him, wondering what else she could do to cause such a response, where else she could trail her mouth…

She lowered her head to lick down his chest to the rippled muscles in his abdomen. Her tongue flicked over each hard ridge, slowly moving lower—

With a sharp gasp, he shoved her backward and pinned her shoulder against the door with one hand to keep hold of her in the darkness while with the other he reached between them and worked at the buttons of his breeches. She heard the rustle of material sliding across flesh as he shed them from his legs, and heat washed down her body, all the way to the tips of her curling toes.

He stood in the darkness with her, now completely naked. And she desperately wanted to touch him. Biting her lip to keep from losing her courage, she brushed her fingertips over his warm, bare body. Down his chest, lower to the muscular ridges of his flat stomach, then lower still…

When her seeking fingers found him, large and erect, he flinched against her touch but didn't stop her or shift away. So she traced her fingertips curiously up and down his hard length, making him shudder by gently rubbing her thumb across his tip. Her fingers trembled. So this was what a man felt like…
Amazing.
He was incredibly smooth, with soft skin belying the steely hardness beneath, and when her hand closed around him, his entire body stiffened as much as the thick shaft she now stroked within her palm.

Her mouth went dry. She licked her lips, asking more huskily than she'd intended, “Is this…all right?”

He groaned softly, and the hand he'd held pressed open-palmed against her shoulder curled slowly around her arm, gripping her as if to hold her in place, as if he were afraid she might slip away into the darkness out of his reach. “It feels…” The words tore from him as she found a drop of wetness clinging to his tip and smeared it gently across his skin with her fingertip, and he had to draw in a deep breath to continue. “God, that feels so wonderful. You have no idea…”

“Good,” she purred as warmth filled her at giving him this pleasure when he'd already given her so many.

Although she thrilled at the way his breathing now came in labored pants, she was unprepared for the reaction that surged through her own body as the wet heat rose between her legs and her nipples tightened achingly. After their encounter in the morning room, she knew how wonderful he could make her feel, and she shamelessly wanted him to do that to her again.

“Thomas,” she begged breathlessly, “please.”

Answering with a groan, he grasped her in his arms, pressing her tightly against him as he turned with her in the darkness and backed her across the room. His lips were on her mouth, her jaw, her neck. His hands swept up and down her back, pausing to cup her buttocks though her breeches and squeeze in time with the plunging of his tongue inside her mouth. As if he couldn't touch her enough, taste her enough—

The backs of her knees hit something in the darkness. With a gasp she tumbled onto the sofa, flinging her arms around his neck to pull him down with her. As he leaned over to kiss her, his hands found the collar of her jacket, pushed it down from her shoulders and off her arms, then made equally quick work of unbuttoning her waistcoat.

She tensed, unable to prevent the hard stab of jealousy at the thought of all the other women he must have undressed to have become such an expert at blindly undoing buttons in the dark. A stinging burned behind her eyes, and she trembled, suddenly realizing how far out of her depth she was with him. She didn't even know where to place her hands or if the untrained caresses she'd just given him had been pleasurable enough.

“Thomas, I've never…” She swallowed, nervousness at her lack of experience overwhelming her, and she trembled. “I've never been…undressed by a man before.”

He paused for just a heartbeat at her confession, undoubtedly knowing what she really meant. But she heard the warm affection in his voice when he murmured softly, “Then it's a night of firsts for both of us because I've never undressed a woman in men's clothing before.” As if reading her thoughts in her hesitation, he added, “But I undress myself quite often, and I think I can manage it.”

The last button slid free, and he slipped the waistcoat from her shoulders. He gently lowered her onto her back, then removed her boots and unfastened the breeches, peeling them slowly down her legs and off.

“It doesn't bother you,” she whispered as his hands encircled her waist and moved slowly upward beneath her shirt, his thumbs tracing along her ribs toward her breasts, “that I've never before…been with a man?”

He laughed as if she'd said something amusing. The deep sound rumbled through her and blossomed a throbbing heat between her thighs. “It pleases me more than you know,” he murmured as he gently lifted her shirt over her head and cast it away. “There now, completely undressed. As for the rest”—he stretched himself over her and kissed her tenderly—“we'll figure it out together.”

She lay naked on the sofa beneath him, warmed by the heat of his body over hers. Cool air wafted over her hot skin, and she shivered at the exhilarating mix of heat and cold, longing and anticipation. Nervousness swelled inside her from not knowing exactly what to expect, but she knew with certainty that this was right. And good. With him.

Then his hands swept over her to capture her breasts against his palms and circle his thumbs around her puckered nipples, and her mind blanked. Her worry and nervousness vanished beneath his warm caresses, and all she knew was the delicious, aching sensation he sent tumbling through her. She was lost beneath his rough, warm hands massaging her fullness, teasing and pinching at her nipples. In the darkness she had no idea if her eyes were open or closed, nor did she care as long as he kept touching her like this, because everywhere his hands wandered, he set her skin afire.

“You are perfect, Josephine,” he whispered, his soft words swirling around her and caressing her as heatedly as his hands on her body. “Tonight we'll find pleasure together. And it will be good.” With a soft sigh, she arched her back against him as his mouth found her nipple, and he murmured hotly against her bare flesh, “So
very
good.”

She gasped as he suckled hard at her and dug her fingernails into the muscles of his back, but he didn't relent in his gentle assault against her and instead took her nipple between his teeth and bit down gently. He was an expert at this, she realized as the delicious sensation of pleasure-pain jolted through her. He knew exactly when to be tender, when to be rough, and how to drive her out of her mind.

She writhed beneath him, the moist heat of his mouth nearly unbearable as his teeth worried at one nipple while his palm fluttered teasingly against the other. Prickling heat gathered beneath her bare skin, and all the blood in her body pooled between her legs, right at that private spot that now throbbed achingly, burning and begging to be touched as deliciously as he'd touched her before.

When his mouth moved to her other breast, to start the sweet torture all over again, she whimpered with aching need.

“I want you, Jo,” he whispered as he laved his tongue against her nipple, as if he understood and shared the ache he created inside her that demanded release. “More than I've ever wanted a woman in my life.”

“You…truly?” Her suddenly thick lips struggled to form the words.

“I've wanted you since the moment I caught you staring at me across the ballroom.” His mouth left her breast and planted a trail of kisses down her stomach. “And I have been very patient since then. Very, very patient.”

That had been Thomas being patient?
Goodness
.
She'd be terrified, then, to know how he behaved when he set his focus on immediate possession.

The tip of his tongue swirled into her belly button, and she bit back a scream of pleasure. “But I need to know you want me, too.”

His words enveloped her in the darkness and heated her from her toes to the top of her head. No man had ever said those words to her before, had ever touched her or kissed her the way Thomas did. No one had ever stared at her with such longing and need the way he did, nor made her feel this warm and alive. Thomas did all that to her. And more. He'd filled an emptiness in her life she hadn't even known existed until he was there and the void was gone, and all she could do was surrender to the overwhelming yearnings and emotions he churned
inside her.

“Tell me.” As he nudged her legs apart with his shoulder, he kissed his way down her body toward the triangle of curls between her legs. “Tell me you need me inside you, filling you, pleasing you…as much as I want to do all that to you.”