One Night of Sin (32 page)

“Oh, Alec,” she forced out in sheer wonder, finding her voice at last. “My darling—it’s perfect.” She sprang off the table into his arms; he quickly stood to catch her.

Her feet did not even touch the floor as she clung to him, swiftly kissing his cheek again and again in trembling emotion. Somehow she stopped herself, taking his face between her hands. “Are you sure this is what you really want?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He set her back gently on the table and searched her face with glowing determination in his eyes. “Becky, for the first time in my life, I feel I’m seeing clearly. I know that this is right—what we have. Everything that used to seem so important is mere tinsel to me now. You’re what’s important. This . . . happiness we’ve found. It’s real. That’s all I know.”

Her voice failed her. As Alec gazed at her, leonine amusement crept into his shining eyes at her speechless state of distraught joy. He cupped her face. “Do you even know how wonderful you are?” he asked tenderly.

She could not answer.

“Shall I tell you? I’m not sure I even have the words. I look at you and—can barely find my tongue.” He shook his head, stroking her hair slowly. “I love your eyes. Your walk, your smile, your laugh. Your frankness, your independence—God, I admire that—your courage, your spirit. I love the way you believe in yourself. I love your strength of will, and your loyalty to the ones you care about.”

Can this be happening?
She felt a bit dizzy.

His caressing gaze deepened as it traveled gently over her face, and then a wicked half smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. He leaned down lower and stared into her eyes with a flicker of roguery in his own. “And do you know what I especially love, Becky-girl?”

She shook her head, mute with trembling amazement.

He caressed her face with his knuckle. “The way your cheeks turn pink every time I look at you.”

They did so now, much to her tender embarrassment. Lifting a hand to her cheek, she bit her lip, her heart fluttering at the things he had said.

“This is much more than a whim to me now or even a matter of honor. You do know that, don’t you? You are silent,” he added worriedly, searching her face.

Barely able to speak past the lump in her throat, she blinked away the threat of tears. “No one’s ever said such beautiful things to me before.” She lowered her head. “I—I haven’t truly mattered to anyone in a very long time, Alec.”

“Well, you more than matter to me.”

She lifted her gaze and met his tender stare.

“Becky, you mean the world to me,” he said. “If anything happened to you, I’d be destroyed.”

“I feel the same for you,” she whispered, grasping his forearms. She almost said she loved him, but she feared it might still be too much. He had not said those actual words, after all. Somehow, she held back.

His cobalt gaze caressed her. “You are a jewel, Becky.” Leaning nearer, he kissed her forehead. “There’s no one like you in the whole wide world. I’ve searched. I know.” He pulled back and stared nakedly into her eyes. “So, will you marry me or not, girl? Put a chap out of his misery—”

“Yes,” she whispered with a catch in her voice as tears overtook her. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. “There’s nothing I want more in all the world.”

They held each other in trembling joy, and then Alec pulled back a small space, glancing into her eyes. “Give me your hand.”

She did, and he slipped his signet ring on the ring-finger of her left hand. They smiled ruefully at each other, seeing how big it was on her.

“Not to worry. I’ve already thought of that.” He pulled one of her white silk hair ribbons out of his pocket and proceeded to thread it through the gap, weaving it carefully around and around until the ring was secured on her finger.

She stared at it, then lifted her gaze to meet his with a tremulous, beaming smile.

Alec took her face between his hands and gave her a kiss that halted time. Aye, she was sure the sand stopped falling through the hourglass.

Returning the kiss fervently, she gripped the lapels of his coat and pulled him closer, kissing her princely betrothed for all she was worth. “Make love to me, Alec,” she gasped when he finally tore his mouth away. “There’s no reason now why we should not.”

“Yes?” he purred with a discreet inquiring smile.

“Mm.” She pushed his tailcoat off his shoulders. “How much time is left on the hourglass?”

He glanced at it. “Enough.” Then he loosened his cravat.

She stroked his chest, savoring the thin silk of his waistcoat under her palm. With one arm slung around his neck, the other braced behind her, she reclined partly, with Alec leaning over her, his compact hips between her thighs. “Hurry. I need you.”

“I think . . . I’d rather do a little cooking first.” With a devilish half smile, he pushed her down gently all the way onto her back on the table and reached for the caster sugar.

“The door’s open—”

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I told the servants to stay away.” He sprinkled a pinch of sugar onto her chest and then licked it off with playful little flicks of his tongue.

Becky closed her eyes, writhing with needy pleasure beneath him. As he kissed her, his clever hands wandered, unfastening with smooth expertise the few copper hooks and eyes at the front closure of her bodice. His touch warm and ever so persuasive, he pulled the tiny sleeves down a bit and freed her breasts. His eyes glowed as he straightened up, staring down at them.

“I think we require . . . a pinch of cinnamon.”

She laughed dazedly, putting out her tongue for a taste as he sprinkled her with sugar and cinnamon, from her throat to the valley between her breasts. Becky clutched his head as he lipped her chest, rubbed the tip of his nose in white powdery sugar with a playful growl. Then he licked her clean. She reveled in his devouring, feeling scrumptious and sticky delicious.

He lifted his head from kissing her chest, his face flushed, his mouth bee-stung from tasting her. His golden forelock, tousled from her feverish petting, hung over his smoldering eyes. He threw it back with a toss of his head, his skin gleaming in the heat.

“Now for the milk.” He reached across her for the small bowl of milk that she had used in her cooking. He held it over her and spilled out the remaining droplets from it onto her breasts. His mouth swooped down upon her nipples; he suckled her with wild, urgent hunger.

She closed her eyes, transported. “Oh, Alec.”

When the milk was gone, he rubbed his face in the valley between her breasts. “Becky, I need you. Let me love you, sweeting. Are you ready for me?”

I’ve been ready for a fortnight.
She gasped aloud when he thrust his hand beneath her skirts and stroked her teeming wetness, deftly penetrating her with two fingers. Becky groaned and arched her back, reveling in his exploratory touch.

God, she had needed this—and more. She needed him.

He withdrew his hand from beneath her skirts, gazing at her in tender possessiveness. He gently slipped her sandals off, caressing her feet. “You are the sweetest, prettiest thing,” he whispered. “Becky?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to make love to you now.”

“Oh, yes, Alec. Please.”

He quickly unbuttoned his falls and freed himself, lifting her skirts. Breathy moans escaped them both as he slowly slid himself inside her.

He was motionless for a moment, his eyes closed, the sunlight dancing on his dusky lashes. He licked his lips, taking in the experience through every atom, as was his way. Her knees were bent, her heels resting on the table’s edge.

“No pain?”

“None,” she murmured dreamily.

“Good.” He gripped her hips, his questing cock foraging more deeply into her body’s wet welcome. She groaned, sweating in the heat; standing between her legs, he took her there on the kitchen table.

Becky gave herself without reservation.

It felt so different from the first time. None of the anxiety, the fear of the unknown. No exhaustion. No strange-feeling condom between them, but Alec’s smooth, slick member, bathed in her juices. She could feel his every blissful pulsation, every quiver of muscle as he stood between her thighs; every pass, in and out, of the firm ridge around the head of his cock, where he was most sensitive.

“I love being inside you,” he groaned.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He bent over her and obeyed. She smiled as she tasted the sugar-and-cinnamon flavor on his tongue. Alec captured both her hands and pinned her down against the table, linking his fingers tenderly through hers.

A few minutes later he went suddenly still as he sometimes did when his desire threatened to run away with him. He ended the kiss, steadied himself with a slow, deep breath, and released her hands, straightening up again. Instead, he grasped her hips, not moving, simply, for a long moment, staring down at her in the midst of their beautiful joining.

His hard, steamy breathing heated her throat as he wrapped his arms around her and held her more tightly. Their pace quickened, his thrusts deepening. Becky gritted her teeth until a cry of anguished delight wrenched from her lips. Each sumptuous stroke was divine, but as Alec’s lusty passion climbed, the pounding force of his loving began to bruise her spine against the hardwood table. The whole piece of furniture shook as he claimed her; a wooden bowl went jolting off the edge and fell loudly to the floor, rolling away across the clay tiles.

“Darling, wait,” she gasped out, laughing at the commotion.

He waited, though impatience blazed in his blue eyes.

She sat up, wrapping her legs around him, and he was content again. “Yes,” he breathed, holding her closer.

She moved with him as she balanced with one hand behind her, the other clinging to his big, hard shoulder. He kissed her, one arm hooked roguishly around her waist. He tore his mouth away with a breathless order: “Look into my eyes.”

She did, holding his storm-tossed stare as he clenched his jaw, clutching her bottom. She could feel his control hanging by a thread, as was her own. “Alec.”

“Yes.” He dropped his head back. “Oh, God—Becky!”

They climaxed together with loud, ragged cries of release, their sweating, straining bodies entwined. She was awash in the most primal of pleasures as he filled her with his virility, flooding her womb with one massive pulsation after another. His essence mingled with her own. She heard his shaky exhalation; he rested his head dazedly atop hers for a moment.

Utterly spent, she laid back on the hard beech table and held out her arms to welcome him to her. With his only somewhat-slackened erection still nestled inside her, Alec laid his head on her chest. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, hugged him tenderly, and kissed his sweaty forehead.

“You were right,” she said after a moment. “The second time is even better.”

“Wait until you try the third.”

She let out a breathless little laugh, too sated even to open her eyes.

“You smell like cinnamon,” he mumbled.

“The pudding!” she suddenly exclaimed. Whipping her head around to glance at the hourglass, she saw the time had expired. “Up, up! Get off! I have to save our pudding.”

Alec released her and got out of the way, startled. She brushed down her skirts, jumped off the table, and rushed to the hearth, her open bodice flapping. She did her best to hold it closed and grabbed a towel to guard her hand from the heat. She swung the creaking fire-crane out of the hearth while Alec fastened his trousers again and tucked in his shirt.

“Ahem—excuse me—my lord?”

They both looked over toward the open door. The stout, aproned housekeeper spoke from behind the corner of the hallway to avoid any possibility of seeing things she oughtn’t see.

“Er, what is it?” Alec called, quickly smoothing his tousled hair.

“Milord has a visitor,” she informed him from behind the corner.

“I’ll be right there—thank you.”

“Yes, sir.” The floorboards creaked out in the corridor as the housekeeper hurried off, no doubt scandalized.

Alec sent Becky a guarded look.

“It’s sure to be Fort and the lads. I told them I would meet them at the Pavilion. They never listen.” He shook his head with an irked look. “Stay out of sight till I get rid of them, would you? No need to risk them seeing you and endangering you with their carelessness. I’ll be right back.”

Becky gave him a wide-eyed nod, blew him a kiss, and then refastened her bodice with a blush. “I’ll just—see to the pudding.”

Alec winked at her with a lingering twinkle in his eyes after their impassioned interlude. Then he took a deep breath, adjusted his clothes, and marched slowly toward the foyer.

Some men smoked opium. Others drank gin. A few—poor blighters—became ensnared in the thrill of high-stakes card play.

Alec was addicted to Becky.

And he looked forward to indulging, practicing, and nurturing his new habit daily, for the rest of his life.
I am engaged,
he thought in wonder, marveling, his heart light. His brothers would never believe it.

Successfully completing the first phase of their quest had infused him with new confidence in his own abilities. Marrying her was the right and honorable thing to do, and he was glad his stubborn lady had finally agreed to it, but it was more than that.

For the first time in his life, he felt he could make a go of a serious relationship with a woman. For the first time in his life he was ready to commit to it—but he told himself it was best not to think about it overmuch lest he lose his nerve. The idea would still take a bit of getting used to. Nevertheless, nothing could pierce his state of postcoital bliss.

He floated more than walked out to the foyer, a thoroughly satisfied man. The housekeeper stood near the bottom of the stairs and pointed up to the first-story drawing room with an uneasy look. Alec nodded and climbed the staircase.

As he strolled to the doorway, it belatedly struck him that his raucous friends were unusually quiet. When he stepped into the drawing room, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the visitor who waited for him.