Virtue and Vice (22 page)

He’d lost all sense of decorum in his relief. “Izzy is here?” he’d thundered.

Dexter’s brows had creased with confusion. “Not at the moment, but aye, my lord, she’s been here for days. She told me you’d be joining her shortly.”

He hadn’t known whether to laugh or howl. He’d traipsed halfway across the country and back and she’d come to his very own house.

And availed herself of the benefits of being Lady of the Manor. He’d found the bill for her new attire patiently standing on his desk and he’d laughed aloud at her audaciousness. Only his Izzy would be so bold.

He wasn’t laughing when Dexter told him she’d left within the hour to spend another evening at White Hall. Barely rested, Ram had changed quickly into court clothing and traveled to the Palace as fast as he was able.

And then he found her with Huntley.

The woman had a knack for bringing out the worst in him. He turned to face her, barely maintaining his temper. “I’m going to tan your arse.”

She gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh yes,” he shrugged off his doublet and cast it aside. “I would. I shall.”

Before she could even open her mouth to reply, he swept her into his arms and sat down on the bed, dragging her face down over his lap. He reached for her skirts, determined to move them out of the way to deliver this well-deserved punishment, despite her frantic wriggling to escape.

As he bared her bottom, his mouth dried at the sight of her perfectly rounded backside. He heard her hoarse sob and clenched his eyes shut.

“Ram, please. You swore never to hurt me again,” she cried.

He dropped her skirts with regret. “So I did.” That damned vow would haunt him for the rest of his life.

She struggled to sit, then jumped off his lap and retreated to the far side of the bed.

“Have you any idea the worry you caused me, Isabelle?”

“Because you feared you’d be too late and I’d go to your father before you could stop me?”

“Nay, you little fool!” He stalked around the bed towards her, taking her shoulders in his hands. “I was out of my mind with worry, Izzy! I couldn’t find you and I imagined all sorts of terrible things that might have happened to you on the road.”

Her lips formed a silent “oh” but no sound escaped. Frustration, relief, and anger churned in him, but her proximity proved too much of a temptation, so he lowered his head, molding his lips to hers. He expected her to struggle, but she did not. She stood still, taking his kiss as though it were a well-deserved punishment.

He would not let her think it so. Sliding his hands into her hair, he angled her head so he could better fit his mouth to hers. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, nipping gently at the lush lower one until she opened to him. His tongue swept inside the moment she did and he felt her first tentative response to him, and it fired his blood. The kiss changed. Their tongues mated wildly and her arms lifted to reach around his neck.

A part of him knew her response was due to the vulnerability of finding Huntley at court, and he understood and even sympathized with her for the loss and distress the encounter had caused and her need for comfort. The darker side of him was more than willing to use any advantage in the quest to launch a full sensual assault against all her senses. His hands moved down her back, reaching for the delicious backside he almost spanked moments before, and he reveled when she thrust her hips against his, though he doubted she was even cognizant of doing so.

His hands slid round her front, splayed across her chest, dipping down over her low-cut neckline, until he was cupping her breasts through the thin silk of her gown and chemise. His finger stroked the beauty patch she’d so perfectly placed upon the swell of one plump breast, so far gone with desire he didn’t care she’d placed it there to draw the eyes of a king. His finger continued lower in a straight line. When he reached the neckline of her gown, he swept his fingertip back and forth across her décolletage, knowing her nipple lay just below the fine fabric and ached for his touch. She arched her shoulders and thrust her chest forward with a whimper, but he continued to taunt her with the light caress, enjoying the contrasting textures of soft skin and silky fabric beneath his finger. She fit herself more tightly against him and he finally gave in, sweeping his finger down, grazing her nipple ever so lightly. She gasped into his mouth and clutched his shoulders. On its return journey upward, his fingertip found her hardened nipple and circled it, over and over, his touch growing firmer until she writhed against him. Only then did he give her what she really needed, squeezing her nipple between two fingers and kneading her whole breast with his hand.

He was in a frenzy of need. His cock grew so hard, it was almost painful. He slid his hands to her back. Ever so slowly he began to unfasten her gown, until it was loose enough to yank down, until the only barrier between his mouth and her skin was her chemise. He bent his head, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking it through the soft fabric of her undergarment. She gasped and a moan escaped her lips.

Then, as if she suddenly came to her senses, she jerked away, crossing her arms in front of her to protect herself from his gaze. In the wake of her shyness, he experienced a sudden rush of tenderness and decided not to enlighten her with the truth. It didn’t matter what she wore or how well she covered herself. The sight of her naked body was forever imprinted on his mind.

He shook himself out of a haze of arousal. She’d fled from him, intended to seduce a king, and gone out on a darkened garden with the man she fancied herself in love with, and he was rewarding her with pleasure!

Now that the moment had passed, he braced for confrontation.

“What did you think you were doing, Isabelle?”

“What I said I would do! I meant to speak to the King and gain his help to have this marriage annulled. And I still mean to do exactly that!”

“I’m sorry, love, but you’ll not get your way in this. You should seek your bed now, for we leave for Cornwall at first light.”

Her eyes widened with dismay. “Oh, Ram, can we not stay for but a few days?”

He stared in astonishment. “So you can make a fool of me by telling everyone and anyone who will listen that you want nothing more than to end our marriage? Or clap a set of horns on me with Huntley? I think not.”

“The King is expecting me! He promised me a private audience. I must see him or he will worry.”

Suspicion nagged at him. What had she promised to gain an audience alone with His Majesty? Nothing had happened, yet, or she’d have already explained her position to the king, but Ram knew if given the chance, Charles would promise her anything. He was not a man in the habit of denying himself a woman he desired, no matter how high he held her husband, father, or brothers in his regard. The king was never ruthless when it came to women, in fact quite the opposite. He worshipped women and fell easily and often in love, making promises he often couldn’t deliver upon. Ram would die before he allowed Izzy to expose herself to that kind of disappointment.

“’Tis doubtful Charles will worry overmuch, Sweetheart. He’ll hear through the gossip I’ve arrived and assume I can handle any problems you might have from here on out.”

She stamped her foot in that adorable way of hers. “He doesn’t understand
you
are my problem.”

He grinned.

“This is not funny, Ram! I don’t wish to go home yet. It’s a whole new world now that Charles is the rightful King! There are so many new people to meet and those I haven’t seen in years with whom I wish to become reacquainted.”             

“Like Paul Huntley?” The stab of jealousy brought on by the name wiped away his smile.

“Others as well, people I’ve not seen or heard from in years! People other than Paul!” She glanced away. “Though I’ll not lie and tell you I’ve no desire to see him. He is my friend.”

“You do realize any kind of relationship with Huntley is out of the question? I know Charles’ courtiers see nothing wrong in the sport of adultery, but I’ll not tolerate it.”

“While we are married, I’d never dishonor you,” she declared so vehemently, he actually believed she believed that.

But he frowned. “This is no place for a lady. Surely you’ve heard how debauched the court has become. I insist we return home.”

“Can I not have a few days of enjoyment before you return me to my prison?” Her eyes filled with frustrated tears and he found he wasn’t unaffected by them, which surprised the hell out of him considering the chase she’d lead him on. She made him feel like a tyrant, when all he wanted was what was best for their life together. Once their marriage was on terra firma, he’d be more than happy to bring her back to London and even Court if she so desired.

An idea crept in, niggling at the back of his mind, refusing to leave him alone, so he contemplated it. He’d be a bastard if he used her desires to take advantage of their situation, but then rationalized it was better it be he than Charles.             

“If I agree to let you remain in London for a few days, you must be willing to do something for me in return.”

Her eyes widened, hope flashing through the sky-blue depths. “Of course, Ram. Anything!”

He tried to stifle a triumphant smile, even as he felt like a cad. “If we stay in London, you will share my bed each night we are here… as a true wife.”

The hope on her face turned to a dismay he tried not to take personally. He’d been a boor on their wedding night; she had every right to be apprehensive. But they would never move past that night if he didn’t force her to it.

“But that’s blackmail!”

“Nay, Izzy. It’s quid pro quo. I do something for you and in return you do something for me.”

Her lower lip began to tremble and he moved to stand before her, lifting her face to his. “I will not hurt you again, Izzy. Have a little faith and trust and we can weather this storm. We
will.
”

She stared into his eyes, hers swimming with tears she refused to let fall.

He waited with bated breath, biting back the urge to take back his offer, if only to remove the desolation from her beautiful face.

“I agree to your terms, my lord.”

He stifled any outward show of exultation at her capitulation. Besides, it was a bittersweet victory. Not for a minute did he believe she wished to remain in London for any other reason than to continue pursuing a way to end their marriage. That she’d agreed to do something that terrified her so much spoke to how wanted badly she wanted to be free of him. He felt a pang of remorse that his actions had led them to this place.

So, instead, he decided to focus on what he stood to gain. This would be a second chance, and a way for him to convince her that their marriage could be a happy, loving one.

He loosened the ties of his shirt.

Her eyes widened. “It is still early yet, my lord.”

He flashed a grin. “Not for me, Izzy. I’ve been across the country twice in search of you. I seek nothing more than a warm bed.”

She swallowed hard, and then graced him with a slight nod. With a look on her face as though she were a lamb on its way to the slaughter, she moved resolutely toward the bed.

Chapter 19

Izzy sat on the very edge of the bed, waiting for Ram to pounce upon her now that she’d agreed to be intimate with him. When he remained standing, watching her with what could only be described as amusement, she stared back, surprised.

She had no patience for his game, whatever it was. If he wanted her in his bed, he would have to get on with it. Swinging her legs onto the mattress, she lay back against the pillows, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready.” Her pronouncement sounded resigned, even to her own ears.

His low chuckle raised her hackles.

She gritted her teeth. “May I ask what you find so entertaining?”

Ram met her gaze for a moment, before breaking the stare to walk around the room, extinguishing all candles but one. The result immersed the room in the flickering glow of candlelight that turned everything a reddish shade as it reflected the color of the carpet and furnishings. The chamber, already quite small, felt incredibly intimate in the dim light.

He approached the bed and lowered himself upon it, reclining on the vacant side. Rising up on his elbow, he reached out and toyed with a long tendril of her hair. An instinct to yank her hair away from his grasp rose to the fore as his nearness set off nervous fluttering in her belly. She clamped down on her urge to flee with an iron will.

“C-can we get this over with, my lord?”

He sighed. “Izzy, lovemaking is not a chore to be tolerated in a darkened room while you grit your teeth and count the seconds until it is done. It is a joining of two bodies, two hearts,” he found her hand and laced his fingers through hers, “two souls. I know you understand, for we experienced it at the crofter’s hut together.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out his words. She could not reconcile their glorious stolen moments in the hut with what happened on their wedding night.

He stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek. “I’m not going to make love to you tonight, Izzy.”

Her eyes shot open and the tension in her body began to unwind.

“You’re going to make love to me.”

“What?” She pulled away, struggling to sit up against the headboard. “You said I must share your bed as your proper wife. What game is this?”

“No game, Sweetheart. I’m giving all control to you. You will set the pace. We’ll go as slow as you need in order to feel comfortable. You hold all the power.”

“But I don’t know how!” Even as she made the protest her pulse quickened, remembering how much she’d enjoyed having him in her power when she pleasured him with her mouth.

“The woman who snuck off to Padstow on May Day knew how. Was she more of a woman than the real Izzy? Or is the woman who enchanted me so during those long hours in the crofter’s hut lurking somewhere deep inside you?”

His words were blatantly sensual, bringing to mind not their wedding night, but graphic memories of stolen hours with Julian, when she’d wanted nothing more than to take him deep inside her and join with him in ecstasy.

Her breath hitched.

His eyes kindled.

She forced her thoughts back to the present. He’d thrown out a challenge. Staring into his eyes, she contemplated her options. Surely, there must be some way to outwit him? Yet nothing came to mind. His steel gaze didn’t waver as he awaited her response.

If there was no way to outplay him at his game, then his challenge would not go unmet. She would be woman enough to make love to him, and before she was done, he’d be on his knees begging! She’d make him regret playing games with her!

Nodding her acquiescence, she watched, fascinated, as his pupils dilated.

After the barest hesitation, she slipped to her knees at his side as he lay back against a pillow. Reaching out a tentative hand, she stroked his cheek. The rough stubble that had grown there throughout the day abraded her skin. He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm gently.

Something about the gesture touched her heart and she closed her hand tightly, as if the kiss were something she could keep. Slow warmth unfurled from her center.

Leaning over him, she lowered her mouth to his. The kiss was tentative at first, but as soon as he began to return her kiss, she gave herself over to the feel of his lips against hers. She opened her mouth and his tongue slid inside, tracing the contours of her lips, running lightly across her teeth and then slowly tangling with her tongue. More memories sparked, of the days spent with him when he was simply ‘Julian’, and those feelings returned, albeit with some hesitancy.

Without breaking the kiss she threw one leg over his hips so she could have better access to all of him. His arms came up, embracing her, his hands rubbing gentle circles across her back.

Emboldened by knowing she could stop at the merest hint of fear, she explored his body, learning him all over again as though she’d never touched him before. Her hands slid over the taut muscles of his chest, the heat of his skin scorching even through his thin linen shirt. Trailing kisses over his chin and down his neck, she lifted the hem of his shirt, removing her mouth from him only as long as it took to pull it over his uplifted arms and head. With the garment out of the way, she sought his small, flat nipple, and reveled in the harsh groan that escaped his lips as she tongued him. Between her legs there was a sudden hollow ache that she well remembered.

His hands lifted, tangled in her hair as she continued her descent down his body. She splayed her hands flat on his heated chest, drawing them down his torso in a slow motion, fascinated as the muscles of his taut belly dipped in at her touch. He arched beneath her as she drew near the waistband of his breeches and suddenly she was in the mood to tease and taunt. She held all the power, she could stop their play at any time, and that knowledge lent her courage. And though she knew exactly what he wanted, she would make him wait. She slid her fingers just beneath the waistband, but went no further, much the way he’d tormented her during their first embrace of the evening.

When she braved a glance at his face, his eyes were narrowed, his breathing heavy. As the headiness of control washed over her, hot moisture formed between her thighs.

“Izzy…” His voice rang with warning and she suppressed a smile. He might have been the one to issue the challenge, but it was as hard for him to remain submissive as it was for her to overcome her fear and take the dominant role.

“You said I could set the pace, my lord.” Was that really her voice? It sounded so husky.

His head fell back. He clenched his eyes shut with a groan.

She shimmied down his body until she rested at the bottom of the bed. Making quick work of removing his shoes and stockings, she slid back up again. This time she did more than slip her fingers in the waistband of his breeches. She peeled his breeches down, jumping back when his large shaft sprang free before her.

Memories of the pain caused by that organ assailed her, almost overwhelming her desire to be courageous. Closing her eyes, she desperately fought against the fear clawing at the edge of her awareness.

“Izzy.” Ram’s voice was a soft caress. When she forced her eyes open and met his gaze, she saw gentle understanding reflected back. A shuddering sigh escaped, taking with it most of her lingering insecurity. How could she fear when he looked at her so? Moving back to safer territory, she reclaimed his mouth.

With a tender touch, he burrowed his hands in her hair, letting long strands of her tresses trail between his fingers to float all around them. His hands moved to her waist and the heat from his palms permeated the layers of her gown and chemise, branding her.

Restless, she shifted against him as he kissed her. Then, like a tiger released from its cage, he sprung into action. His hands swept upwards, cupping her breasts with a sure touch. His thumbs flicked over her hardening nipples and she gasped against his mouth.

His nimble fingers peeled both her gown and shift down to her waist. Disengaging his mouth from hers, he dropped his hands to her waist, lifting her forward so she hung over him. He drew her left nipple into his mouth, alternating between suckling and laving it with his tongue, while he rolled her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Heat rippled through her body as he sucked her nipples and she moaned, welcoming the building arousal in her loins and suddenly glad to give up her position of dominance.

Arching upward, she removed her breast from his mouth and slid back, freezing when her backside met his marble-hard shaft. His fingers grasped the hem of her gown and crept upwards, until her gown bunched around her waist, her bare bottom pressed against his hot skin. Her eyes drifted closed as she fought burgeoning panic.

“Lower yourself onto me, Sweetheart, that way you can stop the moment you become uncomfortable.” His hands were now beneath her skirts, sliding up her thighs to probe her hot center. As his finger slipped between her folds, some of the fear receded.

As he toyed with her, she became aware of how very slick she was.

“You’re ready for me, love. Can you feel how wet and hot you are?” His voice was no more than a harsh whisper but the words sent little arrows of heat winging toward her core. His fingers found her sensitive bud; her head fell back as the building of her climax began.

Unable to take the exquisite pressure any longer, she rose up on her knees over him, then faltered, unsure as to what she should do next. His hands cupped her backside to lend support. She hovered above him in indecision. Her body screamed in need, yet the pain of their last encounter was still so vivid in her memory.

Need won out. She could stop at any moment, he’d promised. She trusted him not to go back on his word.

Grasping his thick shaft in one hand, she guided him to the entrance of her body. The head slipped inside and she lowered herself onto him ever so slowly, inch by inch.

She heard his harsh breathing as she concentrated on her task, waiting for the pain to come. But then she was fully impaled upon him, and there was no pain. She stared at him in amazement and met his burning gaze. His eyes reflected both tenderness and tension at once.

Moments passed, as she took in the feeling, simply enjoying the sensation of being joined with him. And then;

“For the love of God, Izzy, please, I beg of you,
move
.”

His words jolted her out of her stupefaction with a thrill of victory at making him beg as she’d planned, but also with so much more. She rose high on her knees, then lifted herself off of him and back down, over and over again. Each time her body sheathed him, a hoarse cry escaped his lips. The raw sound was so erotic it sent the coiling in her belly spiraling even tighter than before. She began to experiment from her new position of power.

Leaning forward, she placed her hands on either side of his chest to support her weight, and the change in angle did unspeakable things to her as his shaft rubbed harder against her until she gasped and writhed wildly in abandon.

Finally, he took control, and she was glad of it.

His arms reached around her and in one movement, he flipped them, so she lay on her back beneath him. Panic crept in around the edge of her euphoria as she recalled the last time he lay upon her thus, but his long, slow thrusts soon scattered all memory to the wind. Her awareness centered on his body moving against hers, inside hers, filling her over and over again, as if she was made for him.

She clutched at his shoulders as the pleasure built, spiraling tightly within her belly, yearning for the release only he could give her. His thrusts quickened and became harder, until they slid farther back on the bed with every plunge he made into her body.

Just when she thought she could stand no more of the intense pleasure, he lowered his head and suckled her nipple, and it was the catalyst that sent her flying over the precipice. She exploded into shards of bliss, crying his name over and over again, and felt her fingernails digging into the skin of his arms and her body clenching around his. As shudders wracked her from head to toe, she opened her eyes. Ram threw his head back, neck muscles straining, and erupted inside her with a hoarse cry that sounded like her name.

Languidity stole over her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and as awareness crept back, she noticed how nice the weight of his body felt upon hers. He had buried his head in her neck and she brought her hands up, running her fingers through his hair in wonder. He turned his face and pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

So this was what it was all about!

But as she lay beneath Ram, thoughts of Paul intruded. Her body went taut. How could she have so enjoyed lying with Ram, when the man she loved was here at court, probably ensconced in a room nearby? Was she that fickle, willing to betray the man she loved for a moment of pleasure? What kind of woman did that make her?

Her euphoria vanished in a trice and hot tears rose in her eyes. She couldn’t stop them from spilling onto her cheeks. If she continued to allow Ram to seduce her, she might lose Paul forever, if she hadn’t already done so. Yet until she could convince the King to offer his aid in attaining an annulment, Ram had every right to do such things to her. But the more time that passed, the less were her chances of salvaging her relationship with Paul.

When had her life turned into such a disaster?