Wicked Company (38 page)

“And you came to tell me that?” he said at length.

“A-aye…” she replied uncertainly.

“And you came for no other reason?” he asked, gazing at her intently. He took her hand and turned her palm toward him as if to study it.

“I also wished to ask you—as my friend—to be
pleased
for me that this small success has come my way…”

“I
am
pleased… for
you,”
he replied with studied emphasis. He had begun to stroke the soft, sensitive cushion of her palm with his thumb, sending odd sensations coursing up her arm. “And those are the sole reasons you have knocked at my door this quiet afternoon? You are merely paying me a friendly call?” he persisted.

She laughed hesitantly, staring down at her hand to watch the restless circles he was sketching on her skin. Her entire arm had begun to tingle, and she felt the oddest feelings rippling through her extremities.

“This isn’t one of those ‘male tricks’ you told me by the river you wouldn’t employ?” she demanded with a weak smile.

“I fear that it is,” he admitted, the ghost of a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “But I also said then that I would wait for you to come to me, if you so desire—and it appears you have. And you do? Desire, I mean. I can
feel
it, Sophie.”

Her heart was beginning to thud so strongly, she wondered if Hunter could hear it. He raised her hand off the table and slowly, deliberately inserted her forefinger an inch into his mouth, his lips tugging on it sensuously.

“A-another trick?” she whispered, feeling as if she were about to fling herself off a cliff.

“Just one of many I have up my sleeve—
if
you so desire,” he divulged quietly, his dark blue eyes
riveted on hers.

“Oh, Hunter,” she said in a breath. “’Tis so unfair. You know so much of… these… matters… and I’m a—”

“Novice?”

“Virgin,” she corrected him faintly. “I am completely untutored in this subject, I assure you…”

Her words drifted off as he pressed the back of one hand to his lips, insinuating his tongue lightly between two of her fingers. Then he gently seized her other hand, and repeated his caress. She swallowed hard as he encased his large palms around her small ones, trapping them on the table between them. Sophie breathed deeply to steady her nerves. Then, he rose to his feet and pulled her to stand next to him beside the small table where their brandy glasses had been abandoned.

“Well, darling Sophie,” he murmured, his hands sliding up her arms, past her shoulders and resting lightly at the base of her throat. “You taught me how to read by slow degrees. So… turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?”

She merely stared up at him, marveling at his startlingly blue eyes. All sensible questions concerning their return to London had flown out of her head.

“You do recall,” he continued, carefully releasing the few front fastenings on the plain blouse she had donned for their rehearsal earlier in the day, “how you began my earliest reading lessons with something very simple?
You
said the letter
A…
then
I
said the letter
A?
Remember?”

“Aye,” she said, biting her lip to keep from sighing aloud as his fingers pushed past the fabric of her bodice and casually grazed the sensitive flesh between her breasts.

“’Tis the same thing with learning to make love,” he smiled down at her. “I remove a piece of your clothing; then you remove an article of mine.”

Sophie’s legs had turned to jelly. She found herself leaning against Hunter for support as her trembling fingers did his bidding, unbuttoning his linen shirt.

“Excellent,” he chuckled, confirming his approval of her latest actions by kissing her on each eyelid. After this benediction, her eyes flew open to stare at the mat of dark blond hair on his chest.

He continued talking to her quietly, coaxing her gently to mirror his movements. Next he unbuttoned the fastening on her skirt and allowed it to fall to the ground. He made short work of her petticoat and turned her around to unlace her stays.

“Do you remember when I assisted you like this your first night in Bath?” he whispered, nuzzling her ear. “You had nearly fallen asleep, standing upright—over there, behind that screen. I noticed then how beautiful your breasts had become.”

“They’re small…” she murmured over her shoulder, “compared with Mavis’s.”

He turned her around to face him. “But oh, so beautiful,” he said, stooping to brush his lips against the thin cotton shift covering her bosom. She thought she would faint as his kisses gradually traveled upward toward her throat.

“Now, my breeches,” he commanded softly, and Sophie blushed. Even so, she felt helpless to refuse his requests since they reflected her own desires in the most frightening fashion. “That’s a good lass,” he said, assisting her trembling fingers. “I knew you’d be an apt pupil.” He kicked off his trousers, but Sophie kept her eyes glued to his face, a sudden feeling of panic enveloping her.

“Hunter, I-I…” she whispered, tears unexpectedly filling the corners of her eyes.

“I know, pet,” he said soothingly, drawing her close, her nearly naked body pressing against the alarming contours of his muscular frame.

With infinite care, he slipped her shift off her shoulders and pushed it gently down the length of her body as if he were removing a thin layer of skin. Then he scooped her up in his arms, deposited her in the middle of his bed, and sat beside her, his large fingers gently strafing her collar bone. He massaged both sides of her neck just below her ears and she felt herself relax, despite her trepidation about what would undoubtedly happen next.

Sophie had received an extensive education on the mechanics of human coupling when she inventoried John Ashby’s lurid engravings before locking them away in Aunt Harriett’s trunk. Suddenly, she dreaded to consider how such ungainly gymnastics would manifest themselves between Hunter and herself.

“You’re afraid now, aren’t you?” he said, delicately squeezing her earlobe. She nodded bleakly. “Of getting with child?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she whispered. “I’ve just had my courses,” and then flushed crimson once again.

“Then
what?”
he pressed. “What do you fear? The pain?”

She nodded miserably, having no real answer for all the mysterious aspects of lovemaking that frightened her.

“’Twill sting one time only, swift as a pinprick,” he murmured, stretching his long body beside hers on the feather mattress. “And then ’tis over for a lifetime, with only pleasure to follow.”

When his hands reached for her, gently drawing her into the circle of his arms, her apprehension began to subside. She suddenly felt small and safe and utterly protected.

“And, I promise you, “he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, “this loving tutor will then proceed to demonstrate wondrous things. I have no doubt, once properly instructed, you shall teach me wondrous things as well.”

“And you said you would make no attempt to charm me,” she scoffed gently, suddenly smiling up at him.

“Ah… you’ve caught me out. ’Twas a terrible falsehood I told you by the river,” he murmured against her hair. “I mean to charm you this day, Sophie McGann… charm you to a fare-thee-well.”

“But Hunter?” she whispered in a small voice.

“What, pet?” he replied, pulling away and leaning one elbow on the mattress.

Sophie averted her eyes and plucked absently at the counterpane.

“You’re such a braw lad… and I’m so… small…” Her words drifted off, leaving her tentative question hanging in the air.

“And your concern is?” he said, smiling faintly.

Sophie swallowed hard and felt her face flush crimson for the third time. The silence ticked away. Finally she blurted, “We won’t fit!”

Hunter’s blue eyes kindled with understanding as he slowly shook his head from side to side.

“You’ve forgotten two very important facts, Sophie my love,” he said in a low voice. His forefinger traced a slow, languid line from the base of her throat, between her breasts, down her abdomen, and finally stopped at the crease where her torso met her slender legs. “You are my own wee witch, you see… and, as you well know, I’m a conjurer with many tricks,” he continued, as his fingers began gently to probe her tender flesh.

Sophie reacted with a sharp intake of breath and stared up at him with eyes that both questioned and implored.

“Ah… there… you see?” He smiled, relentlessly stroking her, coaxing a flood of warmth and moisture to take possession of her. “In this first lesson, I shall demonstrate a most magical feat the two of us can master… a genuine marvel!”

Sophie could do nothing but stare at Hunter with astonishment as her body began to respond to his expert ministrations. After several delicious minutes during which his hands and lips roved wantonly over every inch of her flesh, he suddenly rolled flat on his back, settling her body on top of him. He commenced kissing her eyelids and both cheeks, grazing his lips against her earlobes, everywhere—but her mouth— until she couldn’t stand the deprivation another second. She slipped her hands behind the nape of his neck, pushed her forearms against his chest, and lifted her head so that she could stare at his lips which had curled in a sensuous grin.

“So Miss Sophie would like to be kissed properly, would she?” he teased, shunting his hips against hers to emphasize his growing ardor. Then slowly, deliberately, his fingers threaded through her hair and he seized her mouth, provocatively tracing his tongue along its velvet lining until she forgot all else except wanting…wanting… What was it she desired? she thought disjointedly. Hunter’s large hands clasped her waist, raising her in one fluid motion so her legs straddled his hips.

“This is the secret of it,” he whispered softly, staring boldly at the juncture where their two bodies met. He lifted her above him, and as his rigid flesh began to insinuate itself against her soft interior, Sophie felt as if every pore in her body was opening to the heavens. “’Tis for you to decide… when…”

Sophie’s breath became short and uneven. She steadied herself, bracing her palms against his shoulders and slowly allowing her weight to sink against him.

“Jesu…
” she murmured, feeling her soul being pierced as well as her body. She hung suspended above him, allowing the miracle Hunter had promised to take possession of her. A puzzled look suddenly crossed her features; she could descend no further.

“You’ve done your part, my darling girl,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now, I must do mine.”

Before Sophie quite knew what Hunter was about, he swiftly rolled her on her back and, with one relentless thrust, pushed past the virginal barrier that separated her from a lifetime of girlish innocence. She stiffened and cried out, breathless from the swift, intense pain radiating between her legs. Hunter tightly clasped her against the length of his body and remained motionless, granting her time to adjust to the shock.

“Shh… I’m so sorry, darling,” he soothed, “’tis over forever. Only pleasure from now on, I swear. Shh…”

He held her quietly for several long moments before he began whispering a litany of endearments and sensual promises so erotic that she felt herself swept-up by a torrent of longing.

Then the talking stopped and they spoke in other ways, with their hands, their eyes, their mouths. She wondered at the glorious compatibility of their sweat-sleeked bodies and felt herself being initiated in the mysteries of love and sensuality in a manner that bore no relation to the exploitive desires of Lord Lemore or the shocking images of lust and perversion she had viewed at so tender an age.

Hunter wished to give, not to take, some lucid portion of her brain cried out… to soothe and cosset and pleasure her beyond her wildest imaginings. She reveled in the power and elation of it all as a powerful trembling that began in her midsection rippled through her body with the force of a Highland storm.

Suddenly, it was Hunter’s turn to cry out, bathing Sophie in the explosive release that her virgin’s body had enticed from him. And now she assumed the role of comforter, whispering her love and gratitude and contentment until they both fell fast asleep.

***

When Sophie finally awoke, the shadows had lengthened across the chamber. She stared down at Hunter, awestruck by the avalanche of passionate feelings and emotional sensations they had shared.

I’m the same Sophie,
she mused, gently brushing a stray dark blond lock off his forehead,
and yet
everything’s changed
…

The clock on the mantelpiece struck the hour of five and Sophie sat bolt upright in bed.

“Hunter!” she whispered urgently. “Hunter, wake up!”

“Ummmm?” Hunter moaned sleepily. “Shhh…” he mumbled. “Come here.”

He lifted his head off his pillow and deposited his tousled mane in her lap, brushing his lips against her thigh through the bed linen.