Temptations of a Wallflower (31 page)

He brushed his lips over hers, gently, sweetly. As if learning her anew. She trembled beneath his touch. It had been so long, and she needed him fiercely.

Gradually, his mouth became more demanding. She opened for him, tongues caressing each other, savoring their midnight tastes. Pressing her body closer to his, she felt the warmth of him, his solidity and strength. This man who had enough will to let her be herself. She felt entirely consumed by him, yet wholly her own woman.

Gripping his hard shoulders tightly, she deepened the kiss, discovering again what they created together. A perfect balance between softness and potency.

His fingers threaded in her hair as he tilted her head back, taking the kiss hotter. Here was what she craved. This man.

“I need you,” she breathed into his mouth. “Now.”

He held her wrist when she moved toward the buttons of his breeches.

“Not here,” he rumbled. “Want to take my time. It's been too long to hurry, love.”

Threading his fingers with hers, he led her down the stairs, out of the cupola. Quiet as dreams, they moved through the shadow-strewn house, everyone around them asleep. It was as though they were in some magic story, in a bewitched castle where everybody within slept beneath an enchantment, and only they had escaped the spell. Yet they were within their own kind of sorcery as they strode purposefully toward their bedroom.

He closed and locked the door behind them, his gaze always on her, rich with intent. He came forward, enfolding her in his arms. For long moments, they merely held each other. Trembling shook both their bodies.

Slowly, he pulled away. Then he knelt beside the fireplace and built the blaze up. The room filled with warmth and golden, flickering light. He pulled all the blankets off the bed, then spread them with care on the carpet before the fire.

Kneeling on the blankets, he gripped the bottom of his shirt and drew it over his head. He reached a hand out toward her. With the firelight behind him, touching blond curls with a line of brightness and outlining the long lines of his body, he looked mythic, like some golden god offering promises of eternal passion and pleasure. Promises he fully intended to fulfill. But he was a real man—
her
man. And that made his strength all the more potent.

Sarah kicked off her slippers and tossed her night rail aside. She had no idea what would follow next, but it didn't matter. All that signified was that they were united now, their hearts aligned. She crossed to him.

Their hands wove together, palm to palm, as she faced him, also kneeling. Her breasts brushed against his chest, and she shivered at the contact.

“Missed you,” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck. “So damned much.”

“I missed us,” she answered, tipping her head back to give him further access to her flesh. “I ached with it.”

“Everything hurts without you.” His mouth made a hot trail along her skin. He nipped at her collarbone, dipped his tongue in the hollow of her throat.

“And now?” she asked breathlessly.

“Now . . .” He bit her shoulder through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She felt claimed in the best possible way. “I can't think. Only want you. Want to feel you. To taste you.”

His hands gathered up her breasts, stroking them, teasing them to points. He growled in appreciation as she moaned softly with pleasure. She caressed his body, relearning it through touch. This was Jeremy. Her husband. Her companion. Her champion.

“You're so beautiful,” she breathed.

“For you.” He tugged at the ribbon threading through the neckline of her nightgown. It pulled free, causing the neck to gape. Easing the thin fabric down, he revealed her straining breasts. “Only for you.”

His lips fastened around one hard nipple, drawing on it, licking. Her hands came up to weave through his hair, pressing him closer as he licked and sucked. Shining pleasure built, centered in her breast but radiating out like summer. He brought the same attention to the other nipple, until she writhed with sensation.

“I want you inside me,” she gasped.

“Not yet.” He was carved and hard in the firelight, a creature of sensual demand.

With gentle but commanding hands, he urged her backward, until she lay upon the blankets. Feral but intent, he loomed over her. He swept her nightgown off, throwing it to one side. She forgot about it at once, reveling in being naked before him. Especially the way he looked at her, as though she was everything—the moon, the tides, the sun, the seasons. She wasn't just Sarah anymore. She was Sarah and the Lady, and all the different parts of herself. Naked, exposed.

He prowled down her body, kissing and caressing her as he went. Her sensitized skin responded at once. There was no part of her that went untouched.

Until he brought his long body down, positioning his head between her legs. Holding her gaze, he spread open her willing thighs. Then brought his mouth down onto her.

She arched up at once, at the first touch of his tongue between her slick folds. Softly, but with purpose, he licked and tasted. He discovered her. He created her. He drove her deliberately toward madness with each stroke and every sweep. His tongue swirled around her bud, and he gently took it between his lips, drawing lightly on the sensitive flesh. She cried out with ecstasy, then once more as he dipped into her entrance with muscular, slick intent.

The pleasure nearly blinded her. Yet she hungered for more.

“I want . . .” She moved down his body, her lips trailing along his torso.

“What do you want, love?”

“The scene in
A Wicked Liaison . . .
you know the one . . .”

He moaned with approval, then knelt back to pull at his remaining clothing. In an instant, they were both nude. Primal creatures of desire. Here they were, honest and genuine. She could at last be the Lady, in every way.

As sensual as a satyr, he lay down on the blankets. His cock formed a beautiful shape, curved and upright, hard with need.

Sarah knew exactly what she craved. She straddled his head, positioning his mouth close to her quim, while she faced his cock. “Yes?”

“Yes,” he growled.

She bent down. Took his cock between her lips at the same time that his mouth found her sex. Her eyes rolled back with pleasure as she and Jeremy tasted and feasted on each other, an endless circle of sensation, her to him and back again. She sucked and licked while he did the same. Ecstasy suffused her, down to the smallest part of her, every fragment, every piece.

She loved his taste, musky and masculine, and lapped eagerly at it. She adored the feel of his most male part in her mouth. His hips bucked and rose as she sucked him, and he groaned against her damp, intimate flesh. Pleasure built, demanding release.

When he sank two fingers into her passage, she came apart, screaming around his cock. The orgasm shook her like a storm, threatening to uproot her. But he didn't yield with her climax. Instead, he continued to lap at her, his fingers deep within her, pressing against that one exquisite spot, until she came again.

She sucked on him, intent to wring pleasure from him, too. His groans and moans, and the movement of his hips, were her reward. They fed on each other, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

Finally, he pulled himself free of her mouth.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Yes.”

He moved swiftly, arranging their bodies so that he lay on his side, with her in front of him, facing away. He gripped her thighs, widening them.

She looked down, eager for the sight of him entering her.

“Look down,” she whispered. “Watch us.”

The position gave them both a view of his cock as it sank into her. They both moaned at the sight. He drew back, then plunged forward. And they could watch every stroke. Every thrust.

One of his hands continued to hold her thigh, while the other drifted down to stroke her bud. She refused to close her eyes. Instead, she watched it all. His hand on her sex. His cock within her. They were elemental beings, raw.

He took her neck, holding her with his teeth, as he loved her. He was a beast. He was her animal. For her alone he became a wild creature, barely tamed by her hand. Jeremy pounded into her, frenzied, and she reveled in his lack of control.

She cried out in ecstasy, the orgasm ripping her apart as it formed her into something new.

The vibrations slowed in her. As soon as her breath caught, he paused for a moment, then shifted, moving them so she was on her back. He placed himself be
tween her legs, his cock at her entrance, his gaze locked on her face. His jaw was tight, every muscle hard as iron, but the tenderness in his eyes undid her.

He thrust into her. She bowed up, receiving him. Her legs wrapped around his hips. They lost themselves in the creation of more and more pleasure. He groaned and snarled from sensation—a gentle man turned wild with need.

He froze as his release poured from him. He threw back his head, letting out a growl of triumph and surrender. He'd never been more beautiful than in his abandon.

When the last of his climax receded, he gently lowered himself down. Still inside her, he gathered her close and kissed her deeply.

Wordlessly, they stroked each other's faces, their damp bodies. Sealing the bond of their union. They belonged to each other—forever.

“But my life here!” I exclaimed, watching him dress. “I cannot simply leave it.”

“Then I'll join you here in the city,” he answered.

“And give up being a highwayman?”

“I'm not giving up anything by being with you.”

Laying back, I mulled over the prospect. “Why can't we have both . . . ?”

The Highwayman's Seduction

J
eremy was able to wait until just after he and Sarah finished breakfast. They'd slept much later than usual and drifted down to the morning room holding hands, their gazes lingering.

But not everything was exactly as it should be. There was much left uncertain. And that uncertainty lingered like a shadow in his chest.

It relieved him to see Sarah tuck into her morning meal with a good deal more enthusiasm than she'd shown for eating these past weeks. Hopefully, the hollows in her cheeks would soon fill, and the shadows be
neath her eyes would disappear entirely. She was on her way, though, and smiled at him over her eggs and tea. He returned the smile, but inside, his stomach churned and his heart thudded in anticipation of what was to come. He both dreaded and embraced the ensuing confrontation. It had to be done.

As soon as Sarah drained her teacup and finished the last bite of her toasted bread, Jeremy asked, “Are you ready?”

“For what?” She lifted a brow, curious.

“There is unfinished business we must attend to.”

“Will we be together?” she wondered.

“Of course.”

“Then I'm ready,” she answered at once. “When?”

“Now.” He took her hand in his, kissing the back of it. Then he stood, still holding her. She rose, smoothed down the front of her dress, exhaled once more, then followed him from the morning room into the hallway.

“Dare I ask where we're going?” she ventured.

“My father's study.” At her alarmed look, he said, “Trust me.”

She gave him a slightly tremulous smile, but there was conviction in her gaze.

Jeremy directed her through the corridors, toward the back of the house. Lord Hutton preferred quiet, and many years ago had transformed a little-used parlor into his study in order to take advantage of its remote location. How like him, to isolate himself in order to strengthen his agenda. Jeremy remembered a time, not that long ago, when he'd been summoned to the study to receive commands from his father and uncle. So much had changed since then. Especially himself.

Once he might have felt trepidation to approach his father. But now, with Sarah beside him, her love and conviction gave him strength to believe in himself. No matter the consequences.

They stopped in front of the door to his father's study. He knocked, then received the directive to enter. After taking a breath, preparing himself for what was to come, Jeremy went inside, bringing Sarah in with him.

His father sat, as usual, behind his desk as he perused a sheaf of documents. He stood and removed a pair of spectacles at Jeremy and Sarah's entrance. Those were new. A rare concession to growing older. It startled Jeremy to realize that his father was subject to the same rules of aging as the rest of humanity, that Lord Hutton wasn't only an earl but also a man, of fragile flesh and bone and blood.

“You woke late,” his father noted.

“We are newly wed, after all,” Jeremy answered.

His father seemed less inclined to broach the topic of marital relations today than he had been in Rotten Row so long ago.

“I'll ring for tea,” Lord Hutton announced, striding toward the bellpull.

“We've just breakfasted,” Jeremy said, “so that's unnecessary.”

“Then sit.” His father gestured toward the chairs arrayed before his desk.

Sarah did sit, but Jeremy shook his head. “I'll stand.”

“As you like.” His father took his seat behind his desk. “But whatever it is that brings you here this morning, it needs to be discussed without delay and as
expeditiously as possible. I've a substantial amount of parliamentary bills to review this morning.”

“This won't take long.” Jeremy stood beside Sarah, his hand on her shoulder. “I have to tell you something. To tell you both something. About the Lady of Dubious Quality.”

Sarah stiffened beneath his hand, and only he heard her sharp inhalation. With an unspoken question, she glanced up at him, her eyes wide.

He gazed down at her in reassurance.

“That subject isn't fit for your wife's ears,” Lord Hutton said censoriously.

“Anything that you and I discuss can be heard by Sarah,” Jeremy insisted. “We don't keep secrets.”

His father looked annoyed, and Sarah was pale, but neither of them left the room or demanded that Jeremy wait or stop.

“Out with it, then,” the earl clipped.

Jeremy bristled at his father's commanding tone, but that had never changed, regardless of Jeremy's age. Some things might never alter. It was up to
him
to change.

“Not that long ago,” Jeremy began, “you started me down a path. It wasn't a path of my choosing. It was of your design and intent. Yours, and my uncle's. He isn't here, but I trust that everything I say to you now will be communicated to him.”

“I'm not your errand boy,” his father muttered. He glanced at Sarah with a fraction of unease, as though uncomfortable being gainsaid in front of her.

“And I am not yours, sir,” Jeremy returned. “As of now, this moment, I shall no longer hunt for the identity of the Lady of Dubious Quality.”

Sarah looked up sharply at him. “Truly?”

“The search is done,” he said to her gently but firmly. “I am finished with it.” He gazed at the earl, who reddened with anger. “I am not the boy you can command anymore, Father. I'm a man grown, with a wife—a
life
that belongs to me alone.”

“You are familiar with the penalty should you not continue with this?” his father demanded.

Jeremy squared his shoulders. “I am. It doesn't matter. My pride isn't as easily wounded as it once was. I can accept the costs of my decision.”

Lord Hutton looked shocked. He curled his hands into fists and set them on the desk. “That trollop's books are dangerous. They must be stopped. To hell with your pride.”

“
Trollop
?” Sarah repeated incredulously before Jeremy could speak. “A harsh word, Lord Hutton.”

The earl looked affronted at Sarah's having the temerity to speak to him in that fashion. After gathering his composure, he retorted, “A deserved one.”

“You are wrong,” Jeremy said firmly. “She is a woman of skill and determination. I admire her. More than she will ever comprehend.”

Sarah stared up at him, her gaze brimming with emotion.

Jeremy continued, “Her books harm no one. In truth, Father, they
help
people.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a copy of
The Highwayman's Seduction.
Setting the book on the desk, he said, “Read it.”

“I will never read such salacious garbage that contributes to the decline of morality.” The earl glared at
Jeremy. “You're a man of God. You cannot support that . . . that
scribbler
.”

“You cannot condemn what you willfully don't understand,” Jeremy said determinedly.

The look of sheer amazement on his father's face was one Jeremy would not ever forget. Perhaps in the whole of his life, this was the first time someone besides his own father had actually denied him.

At last the earl spoke. “And the reward I'd offered? You'll cast that aside? You'll take the loss of your allowance.”

“I will and I do,” Jeremy replied. “I have everything I need.”

He looked at Sarah as he spoke, squeezing her shoulder. She clasped his hand with hers, returning the squeeze.

Glancing at his father, Jeremy saw something he'd never anticipated. His father was staring at him as though staring at a stranger. Not a child, not his son. But a
man.
A man with his own opinions and resolve. Who would not bend to someone else's will.

“The scandal nearly ruined me—it will do the same to both John and Mark if they take up the task. It is done now.”

“And what of you?” the earl pressed. “Can you face yourself, knowing you've failed?”

“You cannot understand,” Sarah answered. She looked at Jeremy. “He didn't fail. He prevailed.”

Jeremy's heart rose upward.

Lord Hutton fell into a baffled silence, staring at them.

“I've concluded my business here,” Jeremy said,
helping Sarah to her feet. “Continue on with your parliamentary bills. We're leaving this afternoon.”

With that, he escorted Sarah from the study. They walked straight out the front door together, down to the street, where they strode arm in arm. The world passed in streaks of unformed color. Jeremy barely noticed. He might not ever be received back into his father's home. The anchor had been raised, and he sailed on unexplored waters. Would there be tempests ahead? Or unknown lands, ripe for exploring?

He would find out. On his own. But not alone.

Sarah seemed to float beside him, wearing the same dazed expression that he felt. “Why?” she asked after several moments. “Why did you do that?”

“There wasn't any alternative,” he replied.

“Untrue,” she answered. “You had a choice. Me, or your family. And you picked me,” she said wonderingly.

He stopped walking, heedless of the pedestrians around them. All he saw was her. Taking hold of her, he said, “
You
are my family now.”

“Jeremy,” she said, then pressed her lips together, as if to stop herself from weeping.

“My happiness and my love,” he continued. “That's what you are. That's all I need. I need you. And the Lady. All of you. And,” he went on, “we'll work together to make certain we have everything we want. Everything we need. Because I love you, Sarah.”

She cradled his face in her hands. Gems of tears glinted on her eyelashes. “What of the future?”

He smiled. “We are the authors of our destinies. If there's anybody's quill I trust, it's yours.”