Sylvia Day - [Georgian 02] (20 page)

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Authors: Passion for the Game

BOOK: Sylvia Day - [Georgian 02]
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“More,” he murmured. “All the way inside you. As deep as I can go.”
She pressed down, filling herself with his heat and hardness, whimpering at how big he was and how much she enjoyed him.
Christopher caught her chin and turned her head to look upward. “Watch.”
Afraid to look, but helpless against the desire she had to see them together, Maria focused her lust-dazed vision and stared up at their reflection. His large, muscular body dwarfed hers, the top of her head was below his chin, the foot of her straightened leg ended at his midcalf. The skin of his torso and arms was tanned by the sun and seemed impossibly dark next to hers, which had rarely felt the direct kiss of sunlight. His golden hair was even paler when compared to her raven tresses. They were opposites on the exterior, yet inside they were the same.
They were perfect together.
“See?” he whispered, bringing her gaze up to meet his in their reflection. Together they watched as his cock disappeared inside her. Her lids grew heavy with the drugging pleasure of the slow glide, but she refused to close her eyes again. Christopher withdrew, his cock now slick and shiny with her cream, then his buttocks clenched and he sank into her again.
Her gaze lifted as he moved, her attention riveted by his gloriously perfect features, now flushed with lust. As he pumped into her again, unadulterated pleasure swept across his face, and when she looked at herself, she saw the same intensity.
“Now, tell me,” he whispered, in that deliciously raspy voice she adored. “Are we making love?”
She moaned as his hips buffeted hers in a perfect thrust.
“Tell me, Maria.” His gaze locked with hers in the mirror. “I am making love to you. Are you making love to me?” He pulled out and thrust again. Harder. Deeper. “Or is this nothing but sex?”
Could he fool her so well? Was he that expert at deception that he could fake this level of intimacy?
No matter how she tried to reconcile the information she had with the man in her arms, she couldn’t.
Maria wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his. It was then she felt the wetness of tears on her skin. Whether they were hers or his, she could not tell.
“It’s more than sex,” she whispered, watching the flare of something sweet and possessive cross his beloved features.
He crushed her against him and began to fuck her in earnest, his lean hips working his cock into her with expert precision. She took him in return, with similar fervor, her gaze locked on the deeply erotic sight of their straining, intertwined bodies and the rigid, swollen shaft that pumped into her so quickly it was scarcely more than a blur.
Her mouth opened on a silent cry, her body tensing in the grip of a powerful, devastating orgasm. He growled and stroked through her spasms, murmured sex words and reverent praise that prolonged her climax until she thought she would die of it. Only when she settled weakly in his embrace did he ride her to his own completion, his cock jerking hard, then spurting harder, filling her, flooding her with his seed.
Breathing erratically, he took her mouth, sharing the air in their lungs.
Making them one.
Chapter 20
A
melia woke to a hand held over her mouth. Scared beyond measure, she struggled against her assailant, her nails clawing at his wrist.
“Stop it!”
She stilled at the command, her eyes opening wide, her heart racing madly as her sleep-fuzzy brain came to awareness of Colin looming over her in the darkness.
“Listen to me,” he hissed, his gaze darting to the windows.
“There are men outside. A dozen at least. I don’t know who they are, but they are not your father’s men.”
She yanked her head to the side to free her mouth.
“What?”
“The horses woke me as the men walked by the stable.” Colin stepped back and yanked off her counterpane. “I snuck out the back and came round to fetch you.”
Embarrassed to be seen in only her night rail, Amelia yanked the covers back over her.
He yanked them off again. “Come on!” he said urgently.
“What are you talking about?” she asked in a furious whisper.
“Do you trust me?” Colin’s dark eyes glittered in the darkness.
“Of course.”
“Then do as I say, and ask questions later.”
She had no notion of what was happening, but she knew he wasn’t jesting. Sucking in a deep breath, she nodded and slipped from the bed. The room was lit only by the moonlight that entered though the window glass. The heavy length of her hair hung down her back in a thick, swinging braid and Colin caught it, rubbing it between his fingers.
“Put something on,” he said. “Quickly.”
Amelia hurried behind the screen in the corner and disrobed, then slipped the chemise and gown she had worn earlier over her head.
“Hurry!”
“I cannot close the back. I need my abigail.”
Colin’s hand thrust behind the screen and caught her elbow, tugging her from behind it so that he could drag her to the door.
“My feet are bare!”
“No time,” he muttered. Opening her bedroom door, he peered out into the hallway.
It was so dark, Amelia could barely see anything. But she heard male voices. “What is going—”
Moving with lightning speed, Colin spun and covered her mouth again, his head shaking violently.
Startled, she took a moment to understand. Then she nodded her agreement to say nothing.
He stepped out into the hallway with silent steps, her hand in his. Somehow, despite her shoeless state, the floorboard beneath her squeaked, when it hadn’t under Colin’s boots. He froze, as did she. Below them, the voices she had heard were also silent. It felt as if the house were holding its breath. Waiting.
Colin placed his finger to his lips, then he picked her up and hefted her over his shoulder. What followed was a blur. Suspended upside down, she was disoriented and unable to discern how he managed to carry her from her second floor bedroom to the lower floor. Then a shout was heard upstairs as she was discovered missing, and pounding feet thundered above them. Colin cursed and ran, jostling her so that her teeth ached and her braid whipped his legs so hard, she feared hurting him. Her arms wrapped around his lean hips and his pace picked up. They burst out the front door and down the steps.
More shouting. More running. Swords clashed and Miss Pool’s screams pierced the night.
“There she is!” someone shouted.
The ground rushed by beneath her.
“Over here!”
Benny’s voice was music to her ears. Colin altered direction. Lifting her head, she caught a glimpse of pursuers, and then more men intercepted them; some she recognized, others she didn’t. The new additions to the fray bought them precious time and soon she could not see anyone on their heels.
A moment later she was set on her feet. Wild-eyed, she glanced around to catch her bearings and found Benny on horseback and Colin mounting the back of another beast.
“Amelia!” He held out one hand to her, the other expertly holding the reins. She set her hand in his, and he dragged her up and over, belly down across his lap. His powerful thighs bunched beneath her as he spurred the horse and then they were off, galloping through the night.
She hung on for dear life, her stomach heaving with the jolting impacts. But it did not last long. Just as they reached the open road, a shot rang out, echoing through the darkness. Colin jerked and cried out. She screamed as her entire world shifted.
Sliding, falling.
Until she crashed to the ground.
Then there was nothing.
 
Christopher woke to warmth and softness. The scents of sex and Maria permeated both the air and the linens beneath him. She lay draped over him, her leg over his, her arm across his torso, her ripe, luscious breasts pressed to his side. He reached down and adjusted the sheet tented over his morning cockstand.
The only words they had exchanged over the long night were love words, sex words. Nothing of pain, betrayal, and lies. It was entirely against his nature to avoid the unpleasant, and because Maria was so like him, he knew it was against her nature as well. But they had an unspoken agreement to say with their bodies what they would not say aloud.
Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She murmured sleepily and cuddled closer. A snuggling kitten could not have been more adorable.
He ran his free hand through his hair and formulated his plan. There was only one way to ascertain her loyalty. He had to test her, provide her with an obvious way to betray him and then see if she took the opportunity.
Her mouth touched his chest in a soft kiss.
His gaze caught hers.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.
“You.”
Sadly, it appeared the bright light of morning was too great an intrusion. There was a heavy weight of wariness between them.
“Christopher . . .”
He waited for her to speak and then it seemed that she changed her mind.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I wish there were no secrets between us.” Her hand stroked over his chest. “You said you would tell me whatever I wished to know.”
“And I shall.” He looked up at the reflection of them together and knew he wanted to wake up in this manner every day. “I beg your company this evening. Primitive man that I am, I have ruined two of your gowns, and I cannot live with myself without making amends.”
“Oh?” She rose up beside him, her hair a delightfully ruined tumble of dark tresses and strings of pearls. He smiled, remembering his thoughts in the theater about her being too concerned with her appearance to enjoy a good, hard fucking. How wrong he had been.
He hoped he wasn’t wrong about the depth of her affection for him. Tonight he would know the truth.
“There is a place here in Town where I store goods,” he said. “I should like to take you there. There are some lovely Parisian silks and linens that I would like to show you. Once you have selected your favorites, I can make restitution for your maltreated garments.”
Her lovely face impassive, she asked, “When will you answer my questions?”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “You are supposed to be overjoyed at this display of my largesse. Instead you wish to pick at my brain.”
“Perhaps I find your brain more intriguing than gowns,” she purred. “That would be a compliment, you know.”
“Very well. If we manage the evening without mishap, I will sit at your service and bare my every secret to you.”
And he would. If she did not betray him tonight, he would bare his heart to her, and perhaps, if he was fortunate, the vision he saw above him would indeed be the one that greeted him every morning for the rest of his life.
 
Maria knew it was not a coincidence that Lord Eddington arrived within an hour of her return. He was watching her, following her. Driving her mad.
“I will receive him,” she said when advised of the earl’s call. A moment later, Eddington entered her private sitting room with a smug curve to his smile that she found more than slightly alarming. Maria feigned nonchalance and affected a lazy smile. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
“My dearest,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips.
She studied him carefully but found nothing amiss in his customary flawless exterior.
“Tell me something worthwhile,” he said.
“I do wish there were something to tell.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, St. John was less forthcoming than I had hoped.”
“Hmm.” He adjusted his tails, then relaxed into the settee. “You did not tell me you had a sibling.”
Maria froze, her heart stilling before racing madly. “Beg your pardon?”
“I said, I was not aware that you had a sister.”
Unable to remain seated, she stood. “What do you know?”
“Very little, sadly. I do not even know her name.” His gaze hardened. “But I know where she is, and I have men there to fetch her, if necessary.”
Something inside Maria turned hard and brittle. “You tread on dangerous ground, my lord.”
The earl pushed to his feet and closed the small distance between them. “Give me
something
,” he bit out. “
Anything
that I can use, and your sister will be safe.”
“That is not sufficient to relieve my concerns.” Her chin lifted with no more strength behind it than pure bravado. In truth, her breathing was so shallow that she felt as if she could faint. “I want to see her with my own eyes.”
“She will be untouched and unaware, if you follow through with your end of our bargain.”
“I want her
here
!” Her fists clenched at her own helplessness.
Amelia . . .
“Bring her to me. Then I will give you whatever your heart desires, I swear it.”
“You have already promised to give me—” Eddington paused. His gaze narrowed. “There is more behind your demand than mistrust.”
Maria’s stomach knotted, but outwardly she arched her brow in an icy show of disdain.
The earl caught her chin and tilted it from side to side, examining her. “I suspect you don’t know,” he murmured pensively. “How many secrets do you have?”
She yanked free of his grip. “Do you know her location or not?”
“By God . . .” Eddington whistled and sank heavily onto the settee. “I’ve no notion of what is transpiring in your life, but let us dispense with the lies for a moment.” He gestured to the opposite sofa. “Sit.”
Maria complied only because her legs were shaking too much to support her safely.
“Does Welton know where his daughter is?”
She nodded. “He keeps her.”
“But her location is unknown to you?” His eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Is that the hold he has on you?”
She said nothing.
“I can assist you in return for the service you provide to me.” Eddington bent low, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I know where your sister is. You must know something about St. John that will help me catch him. This can be a mutually beneficial association.”
“You wish to use her against me, as Welton does.” Her hands fisted in her lap. “If anything untoward happens to her, you will pay dearly. I promise you that.”
“Maria.” It was the first occasion the earl had ever used her first name and the familiarity shook her, as he most likely intended. “Your position is untenable. You know this. I can achieve my aims without helping you. Accept my terms. They are more than fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair, my lord. Nothing.”
“Your trust is safer with me than it is with St. John.”
“You do not know him.”
“Neither do you,” he argued. “I am not the only one who knows where Lady Amelia is. St. John knows as well.”
Her smile was mocking. “Ply your wiles on someone more gullible than I.”
“By what means do you think I found her? I sent agents to investigate Welton because of his connection to you. St. John’s men were ahead of us, making inquiries of their own.
They
discovered your sister. The pursuing agents simply followed.”
She frowned, considering, looking back on the last few days with examining eyes.
“Damn you.” The earl’s hands fisted at his knees. “I believed you would be a match for St. John, but he has deceived you as well.”
“I am not so easily goaded that you can toss out such an accusation and I will accept it on its face. My doubt in your claim does not mean that St. John has my sympathies or loyalty, only that between the two of you, I see a great deal of similarity. In this case, is there a lesser of two evils?”
“Be reasonable,” he cajoled. “I strive for the good of England. St. John strives for his own selfish welfare. Surely that gives me some advantage?”

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