Her eyes lifted and narrowed on him, brows pleating in contestation. “I agreed with it,” she started hotly. “I signed a contract, accepted your advances, took pleasure in them.” Her face smoothed with the memory, a small grin on her lips. “And to tell the truth, it was a relief to get rid of that damned piece of useless skin.” Astonishment appeared on him. “It made me freer. And now I can go on my merry way.”
Vexation replaced the astonishment so swiftly it seemed it’d not been there. “Never!” he growled. “That piece of useless skin made you mine.” The hoarse tone washed down her skin like the most erotic caress.
Her gaze launched arrows of fire at him. “No, it didn’t. I’m not an item of furniture that belongs to anyone.” Even if his statement of possession made her core melt, it shouldn’t fog her mind. “Now I’m free to choose who, when, and how things happen.”
His breath had gone ragged, and it fanned her cheeks, pure flames darting from his darkened eyes. “Damn it all to hell!” He held her shoulders with large hands and a firm pressure. “You’re supposed to be begging for my protection.” The hiss mingled admiration and contrariness.
She mustered a victorious smile for him. “Looks like this shrew needs no hero to rescue her,” she defied. “She’s actually liberated.”
Those muscled arms drew her flush to him, his rock-hard ridge imprinting on her. “Looks like this shrew is doing something to me.”
Her glare widened on him, that melting core becoming a combustion out of control. The air came and went fast and shot through her nostrils as their duel sharpened and sweetened. The combination drove her to the edge.
If she wanted to make good on her liberated status, she must act on it. “Take me to bed, you reprobate,” she said, expressing her real desire.
Her demand didn’t elicit a triumphant reaction from him. His cheekbones, however, became tainted with a ruddy colour as if he’d been the one torn out of control.
“Only you have the power to undo me with the mere sound of your voice,” he said gruffly.
Unsteadily, his hands rucked her nightgown up to her thighs before his thick arm laced her by the waist and lifted her, their mouths levelling. His dived to plunder hers as her legs wound around his hips.
Tightly clasped to her, his large strides gained the hallway. Climbing the stairs, he found her chamber as she’d left it open to rush down to the entrance. Kicking the wooden panel shut, he set her bare feet on the carpet by her bed.
Morning light filtered through the drapes in dim shafts, a low fire still alive in the fireplace. Spring in the country proved cooler than in the city.
Harris lowered his head to kiss her again when Edwina spread a palm on the middle of his broad chest and drove him to the bed to lie on it. After taking his boots off, he sprawled his large body on it.
Her brown eyes fastened on his as she unbuttoned her nightgown and undressed it, offering him the full view of her naked form. Then she untied her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders as his attention flared.
His scrutiny combed her shamelessly from her loose hair to full breasts, narrow waist, flaring hips and shapely legs while his hands went under his head on the pillow.
The fire coursing through her veins clamoured for immediate satisfaction. But she strived to take her time. It wasn’t every day that this man lay on the sheets at her mercy. She’d make it a point to savour him inch by taut inch.
In moderate steps, she neared the mattress and straddled his sculpted frame. His breath hitched at the sight of her womanly curves over him.
His cravat should be the first. Edwina undid it sedately letting the cloth fall to the sides as she concentrated on the waistcoat buttons. The five went undone one by one, the finery revealing the crisp lawn under it. By that moment, her impatience became impossible to ignore. Eager fingers fell on the first button, her gaze strolling over his darkened square jaw, the Adam’s Apple marking his strong throat, and the whorls of ebony hair peppering the top of his solid chest. Unbuttoning the other four, her eyes banqueted on him down to his ribs.
She bent to graze her lips on his stubble, dragging them down to his collarbone to feast on the vee the agape shirt offered. One of his hands lined her nape warm and sure as his eyes closed in seeming delight. The movement made her breasts smash with his torso.
Her hunger got the best of her, and a hand bunched one edge of the shirt to tear it all the way down, her lips grazing his skin right on the wake of her hands.
“You missed me,” he drawled, his dark gaze searing on her. Not a question, merely an arrogant statement.
“What gives you the impression?” she asked seconds before her lips closed around one nipple.
The way she was veritably worshipping him told another story, evidently. Strangely enough, he didn’t answer. Perhaps because his mouth was busy hissing with her caress, his arms tightening on her. And then her mouth trailed lower to a flat abdomen, his torso hair tickling her skin.
Her hands reached his breeches to open its six buttons. She flipped the flap down, and his hard member popped out for her entire delectation. One hand wrapped around the base as her mouth didn’t waste any time in devouring it.
“Edwina!” he exclaimed as though in agony, his fingers bunching on her hair.
Raising her head, she registered his attention fixed on her. “I cannot deny I missed this little thing,” she jested, her tongue darting out to lick the underside from tip to base.
“Little thi—oh!” Her tongue had returned to lick under the tip, which he’d said was the veriest sensitive part of a man.
“Not so little then,” she admitted. Her mouth could barely engulf a quarter of it as she tried after answering him. She dedicated her full attention to the task.
“Edwina,” he begged in between heavy breaths. “Ride me before it’s too late.”
She reached to her nightstand to pick up a French letter. At his quizzical expression, she said, “I asked the footman to bring them from London.” Easier for a man to buy them. She took the utmost delight in fitting it to his impressive cock.
After which she granted his wish. The fact he was half-dressed aroused her more than expected. Several times, he’d taken her before he’d had time to undress her. As she did the same, the centre of her became even readier.
Positioning him to her satisfaction, she lowered until he filled her to the brim. Their eyes clasped, and she moved at the exact angle to give her more pleasure. When his hands sought her breasts to roll the tips, her response got out of hand. She moved quicker, the explosion just around the corner. One of his arms came down, his fingers teasing her swollen clit. And she could hold it no longer. Faster and faster, the friction with his granitic member threw her over the edge. Her spine arched as she dissolved in a violent outburst sprinkled with moans and his name. He didn’t miss a second.
Harris sat up, banded her waist with his arms, his mouth gobbling one breast as he pressed her down on him. His strokes in her still quivering quim built up another orgasm. As he sped, a new culmination crashed on her. He threw his head back with savage grunts as she helped him keep up with the thrusts. She rode his never-ending shudders until they faded.
Both fell on the mattress panting and sweating.
Harris disposed of the goat-guts contraption and covered them both, holding Edwina clutched to him, their bodies entwined in the weak sunrise illuminating them. They lay thusly for a long time.
Head on his shoulder, her hand teased the hair on his chest where a part of his torn shirt remained.
A lopsided smile came to his sensuous lips. “I’d heard of men tearing women’s clothes, but the opposite…” he trailed off as he pulled one of her thighs over his hips.
Her eyes lifted to him. “Sorry for that,” she answered. That her famished state led her to do so shocked her.
Harris turned his head to look at her. “Don’t be. I nearly shamed myself with it.”
Her already blushed skin flus
hed further. The image of him letting his seed flow like that night in his study heated her. “Taking you half-dressed counted as a first for me,” she owned in return.
A comfortable silence befell them as they revelled in their snuggling.
“Just for the record, I packed French letters.” His large hands stroked her thigh.
“I had them purchased to be on the safe side.” She burrowed further in him.
“It paid off in the end.” His fingertips feathered her forearm laced around his neck.
Edwina didn’t imagine he’d be saying that were it used for a different purpose. Not him in this case. But she didn’t bring it up; it wasn’t the time for it.
“There are more where this came from,” she said as her hand cupped his newly found erection. And rubbed it. She was rewarded with the further hardening of his cock.
He flipped her on her back. “Bleeding hell, woman! I haven’t even undressed yet.”
She looked at him from under her lashes. “You’ll have to do it afterwards, I’m afraid.” And bent her knees to cradle him.
Their bodies joined after he took another French letter. From this point, the conversation became a tad broken.
Naturally, Mrs Wards and Peter had seen Harris’s horse tethered at the entrance. Neither uttered a single comment as Harris and Edwina came down for breakfast.
“Mrs Wards,” Edwina started as the housekeeper came into the morning room with coffee and tea. “This is Mr Harris Darroch come to visit.”
“Good morning, Mr Darroch, welcome to Cambridgeshire,” the woman answered. The servants received extra wages for their discretion, which led Edwina to feel a little safer.
“Thank you, Mrs Wards,” Harris answered before attacking breakfast. Their morning activities proved a good appetite grower.
Harris and Edwina spent the day riding around the surrounding meadows and having a picnic for luncheon in a congenial atmosphere. The mid-April sun favoured them with pleasant weather. They rode back as the sun pointed westwards.
Edwina had appointed a bedchamber for him. Upon their return, she requested a bath and climbed to her chamber as Harris did the same.
Dinner over, both sat in the drawing room. Edwina with her laces and Harris with a book and a glass of brandy.
“What are your plans for the foreseeable future?” he asked her. She sat across from him with her attention on her work and made him feel invisible.
After this explosive morning, which he’d repeat tonight, it seemed she only remembered him in the steamy moments. Goddammit, but she had taken him to the limit. He acknowledged he’d been longing for her, but he had miscalculated the depth of it. The very sight of her as she yanked the front door caused him nearly to fall to his knees.
Only for her to deflect his arguments and tell him she’d got rid of her virginity. Of course, he’d never predicted he’d apologise for his actions. Her reply was so surprising though it didn’t allow him time to reel from the apology. But to hear she’d been free and would move on? That maddened him to boiling point. No ruined woman ever behaved in that fashion. It made him feel superfluous. All his male prerogatives turned to dust. The woman insisted on throwing him, shocking him. Undoing him!
And then she told him to take her. The exhilaration that bludgeoned him made everything brighten inside. She took him to bed, tore at his clothes and plunged him in a sea of excruciating delights. His head was still spinning with the memory. To think they’d spend tonight together. He sorely hoped he survived the onslaught of pleasure.
Her head snapped up at his question as though she’d been concentrating on her laces. “Continue working,” she said with a faint shrug. “Possibly, find a cottage to lease not too far from London.”
The response led him to unfurl from his armchair and near her. He crossed his arms and eyed down at her. “You can do that after marrying me.” Harris didn’t forget what he’d promised Brunswick. But that wasn’t the reason he asked—not asked, but commanded. It made sense in the circumstances.
At that, she sprang from her seat and stood toe to toe with him, a hard stare besieging his. “Not in a million years!”
He should be used to her rejection by now, but it still stung. Perhaps, if she did it a hundred more times… “It’s the one way to fix this mess,” he reiterated.
She also crossed her arms, her delicious chin inching up. “I’m not a broken vase for you to fix. I’m not broken, end of conversation.”
“I won’t interfere with your work or your social life,” he added.
Her head tilted. “Oh, just like you didn’t when I lived under your roof,” she debated.
“What, you call giving you a few dresses or demanding a few ground rules interference?” He scowled at her.
“And demanding me to move in with you. Stating you wanted me back in your bed in the middle of a ball. And determining I don’t have male friends. And—”
He raised his hands in surrender. “All right. All right. I admit to being a tad overbearing,” he compromised.
Those brown eyes became slits. “A tad?”
“If you expect me to share you, I won’t,” he growled.
“Share me? I already told you I’m not a piece of furniture.”
“Your fidelity is non-negotiable,” he reinstated.
Her chin notched higher. “And what about yours?”
Damn her! The woman had the penchant to corner him in a check-mate all on her own.
One of his hands bracketed his hips as the other raked his hair, his eyes fixing on hers. “I said you spoiled me for other women, so I suppose I don’t have a choice.”
“And that’s the only reason you’ll be faithful.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I mean you’re a libertine and that you may go back to old habits at any time.”
He exhibited that wolfish grin he knew unsettled her. “As a libertine, I’ll keep coming to your bed wherever you are.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “So, we might as well live in the same house. It saves time and money.”
An aroused flush took over her skin. “And who said I’ll yield?” she defied.
“Oh, you will. Just as you did in the morning and will do tonight.”
“It’s a wonder you don’t drown in your own arrogance,” she flung hotly.
“No, but I do like to drown in a number of other places.” He looked meaningfully at her mouth.
A dazzling smile drew her tempting lips. “If I’m to keep the best part of marriage without needing to go through the trouble, why would I do it?”
The chit was too smart by half. This is exactly what he used to wonder. Not any longer, but the reason was lost on him. “Because I say so,” he answered for lack of a better argument.
“My family will allow me to live on this estate all my life if I choose,” she reasoned. “And I have an income,” she continued. “I won’t marry you.”
The only resource left was to hammer the last nail in the coffin. “I promise fidelity. Does that satisfy you?” Exasperation threatened to dominate him.
After this dejected bow to domesticity, she must have no argument against him.
“It would, but the answer is still no,” she said doggedly.
Stubborn little shrew!
There was no reason for them not to carry on like this. But the problem was that the woman would be too free! And that disconcerted him. He wanted her well ensconced in the institution of marriage, just to be sure.
On second thought, he should leave it at that. Apart from his—ex—libertine condition, her reservations as to marrying him were unclear. He needed time to glean them.
“I see,” he replied simply. “I’ll travel to the country in my free time.” The declaration implied they’d maintain this arrangement.
She merely gave him a curt nod before sitting down to resume her work.
Two factors prevented Edwina from accepting such a ‘romantic’ proposal—proposal
being an imprecise term; instruction would fit better. Not that she dreamed of romantic. She hadn’t even dreamed of a proposal to start with, she mused as her fingers worked frantically. She tried to ignore his presence right across from her in the drawing room.
The cad made the idea of tying the knot seem like an obligation. Something he’d do for the sake of ‘fixing the mess’. There was no mess. He certainly hadn’t forgotten their agreement. A few rumours arose, but they’d fade soon enough. She’d not say yes to a man checking off chores on a list. Besides being a recipe for disaster, it was a recipe for unhappiness.
Which brought her to the second factor. He’d hardly be the tamed husband. If thinking of him and other women when they had no relationship to speak of caused a veritable earthquake in her insides, imagine being married to him. Day after day after day, living with a man who would come home in the small hours reeking of cheap perfume. Or hear someone next day reciting the gossip rags about his prowess in this brothel or other. It was a subscription to become miserable. The lack of commitment to their marriage would destroy her. So, he promised fidelity, but only after she’d insisted on the subject, and he did it reluctantly. She harboured no doubt he’d eternally be a libertine. Old habits were hard to die if they died at all. Most probably, Edwina represented a novelty to him, which caused him to be keen on bedding her. That must be the sole reason for his ‘proposal’.
Not only that, he didn’t love her. Thinking of it, he’d never even uttered the word during their acquaintance. Neither had she, to be frank, but that was beside the point. The concept simply didn’t exist for him. How would she live with a man she—
Goodness gracious! It couldn’t be. No, of course not. She wasn’t so stupid as to—blast it!—fall in love with the reprobate.
She fell in love with the reprobate!
You senseless ninny!
How could she be so careless? From the way he melted her with his body, to the way he stirred her feelings, roused her anger, to his thoughtfulness with her wellbeing in his house, to his respect towards her work and her will. She had been incapable of quitting thinking of him, longing for his presence, his closeness, his warmth and tender cuddling. Insidiously, he had wormed his way to her heart. The fathomless joy she felt at the sight of him at the threshold should have alerted her.
Her Wicked LibertineEDIT Page 16
