The Duke and Miss Christmas (8 page)

The duke's cloak and hat landed on the ground with hers as he slid his arms tightly around her waist and caught her up in his embrace. They looked into each other's eyes and she knew without a doubt she wanted to be in the duke's arms.

“You surprised me, Miss Christmas. I thought I'd be the one to kiss you first. You usurped me.”

Gwen was happy she had caught him off guard again and let him know by her expression. “Surprises are sometimes good, Your Grace.”

“Indeed they are,” he said. “And that was a very pleasant one. But it's no surprise to me that your lips are as soft and sweet as I thought they'd be.”

“I found yours were inviting.”

“Inviting. I like that you described them that way. Now that we've had our first real kiss I want you to call me Crispin.”

She gave him a quirky smile. “Isn't that rather forward of me, Crispin?”

“Yes, but it fits a lady who would hit me over the head before she knew who I was and kiss me before I have the opportunity to kiss her.”

A teasing half grin lifted the corners of her mouth. “Should I have asked your permission before I kissed you?”

“You will never need to ask permission to kiss me.”

Gwen didn't know that she'd ever felt so good and so naughty at the same time. She only knew she wanted to drink in all the wonderful things she was feeling right now and enjoy them. “In that case, Crispin, it's your turn.”

“I thought you'd never say that,” he whispered.

Her stomach quivered deliciously as he leaned his body close and slanted his lips across hers, lightly brushing them. The contact was delicate, feathery, and enticing her to want more.

His lips moved slowly back and forth over hers again and again. Wondrous curls of pleasure came alive inside her. She parted her lips and opened her mouth. His tongue slipped inside and she swallowed a quick gasp of pleasure. Strong, sure hands slipped up her back and pressed her against his hard, powerful chest. Her fingers pushed into the back of his thick hair and slid out again to roam down his nape and across the wide expanse of his strong shoulders.

Seeming lost to everything around them, they stood that way for a long while kissing and caressing, exploring and enjoying. At times their kisses were short and fierce and sometimes they were long and passionate. Still, at other times his lips caressed their way over her cheek, down her chin, and along the column of her neck, causing shivers of delight to cover her before searing her lips with his once more.

She wanted the kiss to go on forever, but the duke raised his head and said, “I can't remember when I have ever longed for anything as I have for that kiss.”

“I have been wanting it, too. I'm glad it was longer than when I kissed you.”

He smiled. “What do you feel when I kiss you?” he asked.

“Flames of heat,” she answered truthfully.

He chuckled softly. “So do I.”

His hands continued to rub up and down her back in a sensuous motion that caused a quickening between her legs. “I thought I'd been kissed before, but now I don't believe I have.”

“And why is that, Miss Christmas?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “If you are Crispin then I am Gwen.”

“I like ‘Miss Christmas' better. Now what were you saying about kissing?”

“When Mr. Standish kissed me it never felt so heavenly.”

He gave her a quick, hard kiss on her lips. “You are saying all the things I want to hear.”

“I am being truthful.”

“That makes what you're saying all the sweeter.”

He moved his lips seductively over hers for a few moments before letting his hand slip down to her buttocks, where he cupped her and urged her against his hardness. His other hand slid up her chest to caress her breast. Delight seared through her, flooding her with extraordinary sensations as he gently squeezed and flattened his palm against her breast.

Gwen moaned softly at the exploding pleasure filling her. Without conscious effort her chest lifted, giving him better access. She felt as if she'd been yearning to be touched like this by him since they first met.

Her stomach, her abdomen, and between her legs tightened at the thrilling spirals of need rippling through her. Desire like she'd never experienced cascaded through her and seemed to settle at the core of her womanhood.

Their kisses became more passionate with each second that passed. His tongue lightly stroked in and out of her mouth, teasing her, filling her with a hunger she wanted to explore and understand. Without doubt, this was the man she wanted explaining and teaching her all about desire and wanting to be fulfilled.

“Tell me to stop this madness right now and see you home, Miss Christmas,” he whispered against her lips.

“I have no intentions of doing that.”

“I didn't need to hear that right now.”

“Didn't you tell the footman to take the long way home?”

Crispin chuckled into her mouth. “Of course I did.”

Gwen's heart soared. “Then kiss me, Sir Ogre.”

“I have no problem kissing you; it's the other things I want to do to you that have me worried.”

“I'm not. I have no reservations.”

“I have one or two,” he admitted.

His admission caused her a moment of hesitation. She was not without some reservation after all. She knew the gravity of what would happen if she became in the family way.

Even though she was already lost to the sensual world he'd eased her into, they could go forward or back away. He was not forcing her to do anything. She appreciated that, but she loved him with all her heart. She wanted him to be the one to introduce her to the joys that his kisses and touches had promised. It would scandalize her entire family if they found out, but he was worth the risk.

She surrendered to him and whispered, “I know what I'm feeling and what I want.”

Crispin's lips came down on hers with such passion that for a moment it stole her breath. The intensity of it thrilled her. She matched his eagerness as her hands tangled in his hair and he pressed her tightly to him. Their lips and tongues met, clashed, and clung together. No more words were wanted or needed.

Crispin helped her drop to the ground and he quickly spread his cloak before laying her back on it. With frenzied movements of their hands working together, the bodice of her dress and her undergarments were shoved off her shoulder and the hem of her skirt was pulled up to her waist. With nimble fingers he freed her breast from its confines. For a second she felt the cold air, but then he covered her nipple with his warm mouth. Gwen sucked in an excited breath. His tongue teased and played with her breast. Waves of immense pleasure coursed through her as she pressed the back of his head to her bosom and gave herself up to the sensations his lips and hands were causing.

His mouth left her breast and he kissed her chest, the hollow of her throat, and the crook of her neck so fiercely she felt he was trying to devour her. She accepted all his passion and gave it back to him. Her drawers were pushed down, his trousers were undone, and his knee parted her legs. She opened to Crispin, the man she knew she loved. His body bore down on hers, thrusting, probing. He kissed her and brushed his hand across her breast. Then suddenly in a single motion, with a sharp burning pain, he was inside her, filling her, making them one. His kiss swallowed her gasp of surprise.

“Shh.… It's over now,” he whispered between uneven breaths. “The worst is over. From here on there will only be pleasure.”

And so it was true. Intense, tender, wild, and sweet.

His mouth covered hers sweetly, warmly, softly. His hand covered her bare breast as he played with its fullness. She felt as if she were butter melting beneath his hands. He moved ever so slowly, all the while telling her she was the woman he'd been waiting for, she was his, no one else would ever touch her but him. His endearments were sincere, beautiful, and she believed every word he said, gloried in every touch he gave her until there was such an explosion of sensation inside her that her body jerked, gasped, and shivered as she gave herself up to the most satisfying feeling she had ever experienced.

Moments later Crispin's body slowed, stilled, trembled. He lowered his full weight on top of her with a whispered sigh of pleasure. Her arms circled his back and she cupped him to her. He buried his warm lips in the crook of her neck and kissed her there. They rested as the sun lowered and the chilling wind cooled their heated bodies. There were no words for the delights that they had shared.

Gwen didn't know how long they lay holding each other, but at the back of her mind she knew they needed to go. She didn't trust Bray not to come looking for them if she and the duke didn't arrive soon after the girls.

She didn't want Bray to pay a visit to Crispin and force him to stay away from her. The feelings she had for the duke were so much more than what she ever thought she'd felt for Mr. Standish. Like Mr. Standish, Crispin hadn't promised her love or marriage, but when you were with the right man professing those things didn't seem to matter.

She squirmed beneath Crispin. He rose up on his elbow and said, “I'm heavy.”

“No,” she answered honestly. “As much as I would like to continue our time alone, we best go before the Duke of Drakestone comes looking for me.”

“Perhaps you're right. He knows my reputation better than most.” He rolled away and both of them started straightened their clothing.

Crispin was much faster than Gwen, so he turned back and extended his hand and helped her to rise.

“It's best he not suspect anything happened between us.”

“I agree,” he said, picking up her coat, bonnet, and gloves.

“I don't think Bray was kind to Mr. Standish after he—” Gwen stopped.

Crispin helped her into her coat. “After what?” he asked, concern edging his voice.

She remained silent as she took her bonnet from him and placed it on her head. Should she tell him after what they just shared?

He took hold of her arms and made her face him. “Gwen, tell me, or would you rather I speak to Bray about this?”

“Bray? No, of course not. I suppose there's no harm in telling you about Mr. Standish.” She pulled away from him and he reluctantly let her slip out of his arms to start down the hill toward Drakestone.

“I'd like to hear what happened,” he said, grabbing his cloak, hat, and gloves off the ground and catching up to walk beside her.

“It's not a horrible story, and remember, at the time, I fancied myself in love with Mr. Standish. Naturally I allowed him to kiss me. Several times. On different occasions.”

“And?” the duke prompted.

“One evening he wanted more than kisses from me and I wasn't willing to, to—”

“Go as far as we just did,” he said for her.

“Yes. Exactly. He tried to force me.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, I managed to get away from him. I didn't want anyone to know, but Bray was in the garden that evening and saw me right after it happened.”

“What did he do?”

She glanced over at Crispin. He had such a worried expression on his face that she had to chuckle a little. “It was not dire, Crispin. Bray calmed me like a good brother. But the next day I received a note from Mr. Standish saying that he was leaving London for the rest of the Season. That he was not ready to marry, but if he were he would marry me. A few days later, I realized Bray paid him a visit that night after I left and encouraged him to make a hasty departure. By then I had already decided I wanted nothing to do with him, so it didn't upset me.”

“Bray did the right thing. I would have done the same if something like that had happened to one of my sisters.”

“Thankfully, I never even think about him anymore. And I don't want to give Bray any reason to run you out of town.”

“I would not scare off as easily as Mr. Standish, Miss Christmas.”

Gwen smiled. “No. I don't believe you would.”

Crispin reached over and took her hand in his and held it as they walked. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to her.

“You know I'm glad you refused Mr. Standish and waited for me.”

“I don't believe I would have if I had truly loved Mr. Standish.” And then realizing what she said, Gwen quickly added, “I mean not that I love you. I'm not saying that at all.”

His gaze swept up and down her face and he said, “But you do.”

“No,” she insisted.

“You do,” he said with amusement lacing his words.

Yes, she did, but she wasn't willing to admit that to him since he wasn't pledging undying love to her.

Gwen pulled her hand from the warmth of his even though she didn't want to. “You should learn from Mr. Standish that when a young lady says no, she means no.”

“But you do not,” he said, and chuckled again.

He may not love her or want to marry her, but she knew he enjoyed being with her and for now that was enough. If she was lucky love would follow. If she wasn't, well, she'd worry about that when that time came.

There were many things she could have said at that point, but the only thing that seemed to make sense was for her to say, “I'll race you to the top of the next knoll.”

Gwen then picked up her skirts and started running.

Chapter 9

The grand ballroom at Drakestone Manor was glowing with candlelight, shimmering with vivid colors of fancy gowns, and teeming with at least one hundred people. All the gentlemen in attendance wore black evening coats and richly detailed waistcoats. Most every lady's frock was adorned with fur, feathers, lace, or flowers and some of them had managed to use all four. Even Gwen's beige long-sleeved velvet gown had a narrow band of white fur on the cuffs and around the heart-shaped neckline.

The fragrant scents of pine, evergreen, and holly that had filled the room when Gwen and her sisters had decorated it yesterday were lost to a strange mixture of perfumes, burned wood, food, and candle wax.