Tonight or Never (25 page)

Her lips followed a trail down the center line of his muscular chest, stopping to tease at his navel. Here she used the tip of her tongue to swirl around the perimeter, taking small, delicate licks. John shivered.

"For me to show you…" he prodded her, surprised yet pleased at her bold actions.

Her mouth dipped lower, laving the sensitive skin beneath his flat stomach. John was falling under the sensual spell she was weaving, which was just the way Chloe wanted him.

"For you to show me
everything
you know. How long do you suppose that will take?" She punctuated her question by taking his member in her hand and running her tongue across the tip in a quick, light swipe.

It took a moment for her words to sink in over the splendor of her action.

John sucked in his breath just before comprehension sank in. She was asking him how long it would be before she could assume her life as the premier female rake of
England!

"It will take me a long time, Chloe," he uttered softly.
Very softly.

Her fingers drummed along his shaft as she thought about his answer.

She bent her face, taking him in her mouth briefly before she stopped to ask him, "Do you know that much then, John?"

He placed his hands on her head, guiding her back to him. "Yes," he drawled in a low-pitched tone. "I know that much."

Her lips pressed against him. "And you don't mind if it should take a long while?" She brought him fully into her mouth and suckled on him.

John moaned aloud. "No, love, I don't mind," he rasped, his normally smooth voice of a sudden unusually husky.

Chloe smiled to herself. For a notorious rake, John was really doing well. She was quite proud of him. This Lord Sexton tasted very, very good, she decided; he tasted of rich possibilities.

He tasted of the man she loved.

John closed his eyes, letting the feel of her mouth sink deep into his senses. The only thing he seemed capable of thinking about was of that mouth on him.
Those lips .
. . Those incredible lips which haunted his every waking hour of late
—tempting
him beyond reason!

The fact that she was unpracticed in such a recreation only seemed to add to his enjoyment. He didn't think he had ever felt anything
so
splendid as what he was feeling now.

Not counting when he was inside her, of course.

Her industrious, active little tongue was driving him mad. She nibbled softly on him, causing his fingers to clench in her thick hair. He moaned anew.

Chloe watched him. His eyes were closed and he appeared quite overcome by the moment.
Almost awed.
Dark lashes rested against his high cheekbones in a spiky crescent.

With those breathtaking eyes closed, the rest of his face came into relief and she marveled as she always did at the pure, classical lines of his features. He was so incredibly handsome.

He was also a complex human being who had enormous depth of character.

"Chloe."
He whispered her name as she massaged him, kissing him tenderly. The ends of her long hair swept over his thighs. A deep groan rolled from his throat.

Taking that as a cue, Chloe sat back, tossing her head forward to let her hair fall in a cascade over him, entangling him in the strands. She wondered what his reaction, if any, would be to such a—

He bit out something that sounded savage from between his clenched teeth and, surprising her, lifted her right up to sit atop him.

"John!"

He sank into her, his strong masculine hands firmly planted on her hips.

The thick fullness of him was exquisite!

Her lips parted and a small sigh escaped. She knew John heard her exclamation, for she felt him twitch inside.

His eyes opened a slit.

Lazy green orbs dilated with desire viewed her from underneath those sexy black lashes. He
rolled
his hips.

Chloe cried out in ecstasy.

"I have always believed in giving as good as I get, madam." His velvet voice was a husky rumble. "For that, you, my beautiful wife, are going to get very, very… good."

With that brief warning, his knees came up, forcing her down and forward on him. He entered her, very, very deeply.

"
Mon
Dieu
!"
Chloe gasped, levering her palms on his chest.

When Chloe began uttering French, John knew he was on the right path to driving her wild. He didn't give her a chance to adjust to the new sensation before he gave her another.

Knees bent, he maneuvered himself up to a sitting position, bracing himself against the pillows at his back. He brought her legs forward to either side of him before his powerful arms locked around her in a tight embrace.

"
Mer
—"

His mouth seized hers in a deep, fiery kiss, his tongue delving as he thrust into her.

Chloe moaned into that hot mouth. He rolled into her below.

Kissing her with strength and purpose, he pulled her to him tightly and stroked once more. The sensations he created within were so intense, Chloe clutched at his shoulders, her fingers pressing into the taut skin. She began whimpering.

John flexed inside her.
Twice.

She cried out at the unbearable pleasure.

Chloe suddenly realized the danger she was in; John was too focused—what if he made her lose control? This had to stop! She pushed at his shoulders, afraid to allow him to continue.

She tried to break away but John wouldn't let her.

Instead, he locked her more firmly to him, his arms embracing her closer, and he rocked against her.

Her fingernails scored his back, her breath coming in short gasps. Chloe was not even aware she was scratching him.

"
Yesss
…" John purred sexily into her mouth. "Oh, yes…"

He ground into her, refusing to release either the captive hold he had on her mouth or his captive embrace.

She began yelling in French. "
John
!" She panted, "
C'est
coup de maitre
!"

John's lips curved into a hidden smile as he continued to ravage her. Chloe had just told him in French that he was delivering a master stroke to her.

"
Mmm
-hmm," he murmured in amiable agreement, pressing deeper into her.

"
Fin!
Fin
!"
She pleaded with him to put a finish to the torture.

"I've only just started, love." He growled. Taking hold of her ankle, he lifted her leg over the crook of his arm.

Chloe was shocked. "
Wh
-
what are you doing?"

"This." He thrust, angling into her. The friction of the tight movement sent her immediately into a release.

"
Ohhh
…"

Before her spasms had stopped he had rolled over with her across the bed from one side to the other. He stopped with her positioned directly under him.

Chloe looked up at him in a stupor, her hair hanging half over her damp face as if someone had put her through a grain mill.

John locked onto her wrists, pinning them down on either side of her.

He raised himself above her and stopped for a moment to stare down at her. Golden hair swung forward to tease at the peaks of her breasts.

Silently, Chloe watched him with bated breath.

Then John slowly plunged into her dewy warmth. His movements became languid and measured, as if he had all the time in the world to stroke her to heaven.

"
Ohhh
, John,
ohh
… please… please
… !"

His clean, hot breath drifted across her lips. Tiny drops of moisture dampened his brow. He lowered his face to her so his lips almost but not quite met her mouth to whisper in a mere hint of sound, "
Tant
mieux
."

Much better.

Capturing the rosy peak of her breast, he began to suckle on her as he continued his pulsing, flowing movements. The pace he set served only to inflame her further. He was leading her to follow this building dance.

The chain around his neck slid forward, its tiny carrot dangling across her breasts as he drew on her. When he lifted his head, he let the carrot slide across each pointed tip.

The gold metal was almost hot from his skin, and it seemed to scorch right through her.
John's personal brand.

She jumped, moaning. Her hands twisted but he would not let go of his hold on her wrists.

When he began to imitate his earlier motions of rolling his hips while deep inside her, Chloe actually said, "
Non
…
Non
…" as if she were being tortured.
Which she was.

The edges of his sensual lips curved slightly as he went right on with what he intended. He rocked them both as he stroked and rolled. Oh, but he was killing her!
The little death
.
Chloe bit her lip to keep from saying anything she absolutely did not want him to know.

"Look at me." His strong voice penetrated her senses. She opened her eyes to stare up at him. He looked wild and masculine and beautiful.

And he said but one word.

"Now."

His mouth again seized hers. He began to move in her with powerful force, determination guiding his strokes. His hands released her wrists, sliding up her upturned palms to tangle with her fingers in a threaded grip.

Chloe mewled into his mouth, his relentless thrusting motions completely devastating her. It did not take long before she felt the powerful tremors rise up in her once more. The spasms shook her frame from head to foot as she found her release yet again.

With one last mighty push, John ground his hips in a circular motion to put exclamation on the sliding deed.

He actually shouted out his own satisfaction.

He lay heavily on top of her, trying to recover his breath.

"
Voilà
tout
," he whispered huskily in French into her neck.

He was telling his wife that it was finished for now. Chloe never heard his final words; she had lost all sensibility with the outstanding pleasure her husband had afforded her.

John had "given" her very, very
good
.

Chapter Eleven

Ships that Pass In the Night

Once again carriages began lining the drive as the ton descended.

Always a popular spot for the beau monde due to its location near
Brighton, the house generally drew more than its share of guests. With the Prince of Wales in residence at his farmhouse on the west side of
Steyne
,
Chacun
à
Son
Goût
was often a convenient resting spot for the ton who wished to freshen up for a few hours before heading on to Brighton.

Fortunately, the house was situated far enough off the main roads so this wasn't an unbearable occurrence but rather an anticipated one. Guests arriving on a regular basis from
London kept the house lively in between periods of relaxation.

John always thought the estate had the perfect location. Only a five-hour carriage ride to
London town, it afforded country living with all the amenities of town life within reasonable travel.

Apparently the Black Rose thought the estate perfectly situated as well.

In whatever extraordinary way gossip travels, it was soon discovered that many French aristocrats were showing up at the estate, miraculously saved from beheading by the infamous Black Rose.

Everyone was dying to hear the stories first hand.
Chacun
à
Son
Goût
became
the
place to be.

So they came.

They descended upon the estate and its new lord like locusts upon a field of grain. It wasn't long before the house was full to overflowing with guests once more, and Chloe lamented finding room to put the next group of the "saved" should such a group arrive.

Grandmere
had taken herself back to the sanctuary of the garden conservatory, Maurice was hiding somewhere,
Deiter
had probably fallen asleep in some obscure corner with no one to wake him, and Percy was sometimes seen here and there flitting about, dropping jewels of innuendo and wit wherever he went.