Mistress of Merrivale (7 page)

“A double-edge sword.”

“Exactly.” She beamed at him, making him puff up like an innocent receiving praise, except tonight, he sure as hell didn’t feel childlike. To his relief, she stepped away and let the fabric slide over her hips to puddle at her feet. She plucked the green silk from the floor and draped the gown over the back of a chair.

Leo couldn’t take his eyes off her. Beautiful. Graceful. Honest. Melburn hadn’t mentioned her teasing nature, but Leo liked her harmless impudence.

Jocelyn removed frothy petticoats, stepping closer when she required assistance with the lacing of her stays. In a trice, the task was complete and all she wore was her filmy chemise, the emerald necklace and her footwear.

“Jocelyn, you’re stunning.”

“Thank you.” Her throaty tone told him her flirtation had taken a toll of her too.

She planted her pert backside on a chair and bent to take off her shoes. With a playful glance at him, she untied her garters and made a production of rolling her scarlet stockings down her legs. She started to remove her chemise.

“No, leave that on for the moment.”

“Will you kiss me now?”

“And more,” he promised.

Jocelyn joined him on his bed, and they stared at each other, potential shimmering between them.

“What do you mean to do with me, my husband?”

Pure pleasure struck him at her words. “I intend to touch and learn your shape. Kiss you.” Leo cupped her shoulder, savoring the warmth of her smooth flesh. “I want to kiss your lips again, your breasts. By tomorrow morning there won’t be an inch of your body I haven’t kissed or tasted.”

She licked her lips. “And then what?”

“I intend to fuck you until this hunger inside me is sated.”

“Do I get a turn?”

Interesting, his bluntness and vulgar language didn’t scare her into blushing silence. “Later,” he said, drawing her against him. He intended to start his seduction. He crushed his lips to hers, loving the way she responded immediately. Her hands curled around his neck, and every idea he’d entertained of taking his time flew out the window. Hell, he needed her, and if he didn’t get these breeches off soon they’d strangle his cock and cut off his circulation.

“Chemise off,” he demanded, springing off his bed to deal with the fall of his breeches and remaining clothes. When he glanced back at Jocelyn he found her exactly where he’d left her, her eyes big and wide as she watched him disrobe. His hands settled at his sides, and he stood before her naked and aroused.

Chapter Three

Jocelyn ached for his touch and, when he stalked toward her and finally drew their naked bodies together, a hard shudder seized her. She gripped his shoulders and strained to get even closer, her quim weeping and ready for his possession. This man—her husband—she scarcely knew him, yet he touched places inside her, made her hunger for his hands on her skin, his smile. Especially his smile.

Their lips met, communicating urgency on his part. Jocelyn didn’t mind. Their thoughts ran parallel. She didn’t want cautious and easy. Tonight she needed to know she belonged to Leo. She wanted to experience every gut-wrenching emotion she’d missed in the past because she’d chosen—been forced on a different life path.

This time was for both of them, for pure pleasure and pleasing each other. For once, she experienced no pressure to perform or boost egos. It made a big difference.

His kisses fueled her need for more until she went dizzy with desire. Finally, desperate for air, she pulled away, her chest heaving. Before he could speak or ask questions, she pressed a quick kiss to his throat. That peck became another kiss, this one long and lingering while she discovered his flavor and drank in his heady scent of bay rum and masculinity. Her new favorite bouquet.

He gripped her upper arms, gently pushing her away. His eyes glittered with both laughter and triumph as he rolled and covered her trembling body.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said. “Let me pleasure you.”

Amusement simmered and prompted a burst of humor. “You want a clear conscience when you finally pounce on me and lose control.”

“Of course.” His grin held a hint of rogue, and her heart beat a little faster at his playful manner. “You’ve discovered my evil plan.”

Jocelyn couldn’t contain her mirth. “Your plan doesn’t sound wicked to me.”

“I’m pleased to hear I don’t scare you.” One hand smoothed over her collarbone, his calloused fingers creating a sensual drag across her skin. Awareness pulsed in her, his touch shooting sparks through her veins, his blatant regard making her feel feminine and seductive despite her ordinary appearance.

“I’m not frightened of you.” She’d known fear, and it bore little relation to the feelings coursing through her now. The murder…no, she mustn’t think the worst. “A bit nervous maybe, but I think that is to be expected with a new marriage.” Her smile felt as if it were ragged at the edges.

“Understandable. You have freckles all over.” His fingers moved in a seductive stroke from one golden spot to the next.

“The bane of my life.” She clutched his shoulders, her fingernails biting into his flesh, yet he didn’t protest. Instead, he licked a lazy path across the curve of one breast, making it difficult for her to concentrate. “Freckles are not fashionable,” she added.

“I like them.” His warm breath washed across her skin as he spoke.

Her nipples beaded to hard points, a silent plea for him to touch her with greater intimacy. Her head dropped back. “Leo,
please
.”

Luckily, he didn’t attempt to tease her or draw out the waiting. One big hand covered her breast, his fingers circling then tugging on her nipple and sending desire sizzling across her skin. She gulped in air and gasped when his mouth closed over her other nipple. Oh, this was exactly what she needed. She turned liquid deep inside, moistening for his possession, yearning for him to hasten his pace.

“Leo.” This time her voice held approval as he palmed her left breast and stimulated her nipple with deft fingers. His mouth worked harder, spreading a prickling trail of pleasure. She stirred restlessly, desperately craving more, yet contrarily wanting to draw out his attentions and commit them to memory so she could recall every perfect detail when she was alone again.

“I like the way you smell,” he said when he lifted her head. “But you taste even better. All sugary and sweet with a hint of spice.”

“My mother makes lotions and special rinses in the still room. I use them to wash my hair and to keep my skin smooth.”

“I must commend her.”

She’d ask her mother to make something for Leo. Her mother would enjoy working on a special project. Then thoughts of her mother faded because Leo moved down her body. He parted her legs and placed a kiss directly on the heart of her quim. She gasped at the skill and purpose in his touch. Soon her entire body hummed under his seductive plundering. A lap of his tongue. A faint nibble and an open-mouthed kiss. Her hips moved restlessly as she sought deeper contact.

“You like that.”

“Yes. More please, Leo.” Her hips canted in silent encouragement. She felt…empty. She craved his touch, his cock filling her. A soft moan escaped when he teased her nub, his stroke a tug deep in her core. Her stomach hollowed, and she trembled, unraveling with each of his caresses.

Laughing softly, he licked downward to her entrance, the stubble on his jaw abrading the tender skin of her inner thighs. This man…her husband. He knew how to pleasure a woman. Part of her wondered at his experience, about the other women in his life. They both came to this marriage with history.
No!
She needed to concentrate on their future.

“Leo.” Her pelvis rocked. She pressed her needy flesh against his mouth in silent demand.

“I know what you want.” This time he answered her plea. He pushed a finger inside her and her breathing went shallow. She squirmed when he closed his mouth over her and applied steady suction. A sharp breath filled her lungs, and she released it in a low moan. His touch was too much. It wasn’t enough. Flames swarmed over her entire body. Her pulse spiked sharply, then the molten force inside her exploded. The fire banked high and gradually reduced to languorous waves that seemed to go on forever. Finally, she sighed, a heartfelt sound of satisfaction.

Leo removed his finger and slid up her body. His lips settled over hers, urgent and inflammatory. He tasted wild and sweet, his eyes feral with passion as he gripped fistfuls of her hair and surged into her, filling her with one powerful thrust.

Fully embedded, he paused and lifted his head, his fingers toying with a springy red curl. “This surpasses my imagination.”

“I’m sure we can do even better yet.” This flirtatious nature was new to her, but she found she enjoyed the way her words teased humor from him, a bright smile.

Leo nuzzled her neck, and she gripped him in a possessive hold, running one hand down his back and coming to a rest on his rump. He began to move in decisive strokes that fueled a renewed surge of desire.

“Hell,” he muttered.

His hoarsely voiced curse brought a rush of amusement, an awareness of her feminine power. Determined to propel him into pleasure, she caressed his neck with a trail of kisses. At the place where his shoulder and neck met, she deepened her attention with hot suction and used her teeth to introduce a hint of pain. He groaned and, if anything, his cock grew harder, filling her to capacity. With a convulsive heave of muscles, he quickened his strokes, shoving her into the feather mattress.

Jocelyn gasped, a shimmer of sensation overtaking her. Her channel pulsed around his cock and another harsh cry escaped him. He invaded her body and stilled, throwing his head back and letting out a harsh cry of enjoyment. Jocelyn watched his stark visage, eyes screwed tight while he rode out the carnal stimulation. Gradually, he relaxed, his eyes popping open.

“Thank you,” she whispered, emotion welling in her, clogging her throat and preventing further discourse.

He might have thought she was thanking him for the satisfaction that came with their bed-sport, but it was for so much more. He’d shown her tonight how their marriage could be—the promise of a happy future. They suited each other. Instinctively she’d known that, but his behavior and care proved her instincts correct. They were a good match.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “I’ve barely started.”

He parted their bodies and started kissing her anew. Her muscles pulled tight with each tormenting stroke of his hands and mouth. Their breaths mingled and she clung to him, reveling in every tempestuous sensation.

“Good,” she said when their lips parted. “I haven’t finished either.”

His rich chuckle thrilled her, the echo of his amusement filling her mind as they loved each other into the small hours of the morning.

The tuneful singing of a maid roused Jocelyn. Her eyes opened to register the bright sunshine attempting to burst through a crack in the curtains. She stretched, the stiffness in her muscles bringing to mind the previous night. A faint smile played around her lips. She and Leo were compatible in the bedroom, and she looked forward to the coming evening.

Jocelyn slid from the tangled sheets and slipped on the shirt Leo had worn last night. She opened the connecting door to their chambers and stepped into her pink room.

“Good morning.” Susan helped Jocelyn don a robe. “Mr. Sherbourne said to let you sleep. I’ll go to fetch your tea now.”

Before her maid disappeared, Jocelyn asked, “Is there water to wash?”

“Of course,” the maid said. “I’ll arrange hot water while you drink your tea.”

Once Jocelyn was alone, she padded over to a window and surveyed the garden. She caught a glimpse of white from the corner of her eye. When she focused where she’d seen the flicker, she saw nothing. She shook her head and stepped away. Spending so much time with her mother was propelling her into flights of fancy. She’d most likely caught sight of one of the gardeners.

Susan arrived bearing a tray. The scent of the raspberry jam and the sight of two slices of bread brought pangs of hunger. Her stomach gave an unladylike rumble.

“Pardon me.”

Susan cast a knowing glance. “Your mother is asking after you, Mrs. Sherbourne.”

“Is she agitated?” Immediate tension tightened Jocelyn’s shoulders as she waited for more information.

“Oh, no. She was singing with Cassandra. They seemed very happy.”

“I’ll go and find them once I’m dressed,” Jocelyn said, then remembered the housekeeper. “After my meeting with Mrs. Green.”

Jocelyn hurried through her wash and changed into a serviceable brown gown to meet with the housekeeper.

Mrs. Green greeted her with a frosty grimace. Her black dress and cap were immaculate, spotless and crisp with starch. A simple bun confined her dark brown hair and not a wisp strayed out of place. Jocelyn fought an urge to check her own rebellious hair.

“I’ve brought the meal plans for the next week,” Mrs. Green said. “Mr. Woodley asked if he might meet with you later.”

“That will be fine. Please have a seat.”

They went through the menus, which were satisfactory. Mrs. Green appeared efficient, and Jocelyn didn’t want to upset her by changing everything. Not yet anyway. Thankfully, by the end of their meeting, Mrs. Green managed a wider, albeit tight, smile that told Jocelyn the housekeeper still bore reservations about the new mistress of Merrivale.