Her eyes flew wide, but a smile soon appeared on her face and she wrapped her arms around his neck harder.
“I want you, Annabelle,” he groaned. “I want you so damn bad.”
She lifted her knees to press against his hips. He pulled out and plunged back in, his hips pumping into her. “I want you. So. Damn. Bad.” Each word was another thrust and each time he thrust she moaned, the sound like music to his ears.
David thrust into her again and again, the feeling so raw and intense he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from coming. He’d promised her that there would be no child, and he would keep that promise.
He allowed himself a few more strokes, just a few more moments to experience the unholy perfection of being inside of her. Then, he pulled out and flung himself back on the pillows beside her, breathing so heavily, he thought his heart might burst from his chest.
Annabelle’s eyes flew wide, and she leaned up on one arm to look at him. “Was that…? Did you…?”
David took her other hand and placed it over her heart. “Do you see what you’ve done to me?”
A frown wrinkled her brow. “But did you…? Feel the same way I did?”
She was asking him if he’d had an orgasm, and going about it in the most adorable fashion. “Annabelle,” he breathed. “There are many ways to make love. That is only one of them.”
“But you didn’t…” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks turned pink. She buried her head against her shoulder.
He cleared his throat. “If I had…ahem…finished, it’s possible you would end up with child.”
Annabelle peeked out one eye. “Oh. I suppose I didn’t hear that part when I was listening at the door as Lady Courtney was telling Marianne about it.”
David’s eyes flew wide. “What?”
She kept her nose pressed to his shoulder. “I wanted to know how it worked, so I listened at the door.”
“And you learned what exactly?” he asked tentatively.
“Enough to know that it was a lot like the horses at Bellingham Hall, but clearly not enough to know how a baby is created.”
Despite his still-labored breathing, David chuckled. He leaned up on his arm and kissed her forehead. “Promise me you won’t ever change, my darling.”
Annabelle frowned at that. “But David, you still need to…”
David had flopped back onto the mattress. He eyed her from the corners of his eyes.
“You said there are many ways to make love.” Her cheeks were pink again, but she held his gaze.
“So I did.” He glanced down at his cock, still standing at attention, more than ready.
“Show me,” she said, leaning over him and kissing his lips. “Tell me what to do.”
David stared up at the canopy for a few moments. Was it the proper thing to do to teach one’s future wife what he had in mind? Probably not, but in this case, he was the tutor, and she was the pupil. What a heavenly turn of events.
“Are you certain?” he asked, praying she said yes, but perfectly willing to stop if she had any doubts.
“Yes.” She nodded.
He said a brief prayer of thankfulness before he let his hands drop on either side of his hips atop the sheets. “Very well.” Nearly panting in anticipation, he tried to control his voice. “There are at least two other things we can do that would produce the same result without creating a child.”
She leaned toward him, eyes wide, clearly interested in the topic. Thank Christ.
“What things?” she asked.
He closed his eyes and expelled his breath. “The first is…you can…touch me.”
“Touch you?” she repeated.
“Yes. Take me in your hand, the same way you did when I first took off my breeches.”
“Ooh!” Her eyes became even wider. Then a sly smile covered her face, and she moved her hand down his bare abdomen until she wrapped her fist around his length.
David swallowed and opened his eyes again. He was slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his mind.
“Like this?” she asked.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Exactly like that.”
“Now what? Should I squeeze it?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Str…stroke it.”
When Annabelle began slowly moving her hand up and down his cock, David stopped breathing. He fisted his hands in the sheets near his hips and clenched his jaw.
“Am I doing it correctly?” she asked, her voice a tentative whisper.
“So correctly,” he whispered back on a groan.
She stroked him again and again while David’s hips were captive to her hand. He thrust up into her clenched fist, while she watched in obvious awe. She stroked him again and again and again, while he bit the inside of his cheek, praying that he didn’t spill his seed in her hand.
“You said there was another thing to do,” she whispered in his ear. “What is it?” Her voice held a wicked note of debauchery.
If propriety was his goal, he was positive he shouldn’t tell her the next thing. But the overwhelming desire to see Annabelle’s full pink lips covering his cock was more than he could bear.
She stopped stroking him, waiting for his next lesson. Her hand remained wrapped around him.
“Tell me, David,” she prompted. “What else can I do?”
David briefly said another prayer before meeting her gaze and saying in hoarse whisper, “You can suck me.”
Unmistakable desire flared in her eyes as she moved to straddle him. Her knees on either side of his hips, she leaned down and kissed his mouth, then her lips moved to his cheek, his ear, his neck. Oh, God. She was doing to him exactly what he’d done to her. She ran her tongue down his chest, lightly scraping her fingernails against his nipples, before lapping at his abdomen and then going even lower.
The breath caught in David’s dry throat when her mouth hovered over his cock. He bent his neck to look down at her. It was an even more erotic sight than he’d guessed it would be. He throbbed.
She wrapped her thumb and forefinger around him before leaning down and licking just the tip. His hips nearly came off the bed. “Damn it, Annabelle. Don’t tease me.”
Her smile was sly. “Isn’t that what you did to me?”
His breath was coming in short pants. He couldn’t nod, couldn’t speak, all he could do was watch as her lips lowered over him, and she took the head of his cock fully into her mouth.
He gripped the sheets in both hands again and prayed for mercy. But when Annabelle’s mouth began moving up and down his length, every thought flew from his mind. An unrecognizable sound came from the back of his throat. It was half groan, half growl. A plea.
She stroked him with her mouth, the same way she’d done with her tongue, and David was mindless. He tried to keep his hips from moving, but they undulated on their own accord. When she began to stroke him with her hand and suck him, he reached down to pull her away. She was too fast of a learner. There was no way he wouldn’t finish if she kept at it.
Annabelle squirmed away from his arms, resisting his attempt to stop her. She lifted her lips off him and said, “I want to keep doing this until it happens.”
He eyed her warily. How much did she know? “Until what happens?”
Her mouth quirked up. “The same thing that would happen when you were inside me.”
He expelled his breath and rubbed both hands roughly through his hair. Jesus Christ. How would he ever explain this?
“Annabelle, you don’t understand. If you keep doing that, I’ll—”
“You’ll expel your seed,” she said, matter-of-factly.
David swallowed. Oh, God. He couldn’t laugh. Not now. Perhaps he should have explained all this before they began. Regardless, there was no going back now. “Yes,” he replied simply. But he wanted to be certain she understood. “In your mouth.”
“I know,” she replied, just before lowering her lips over him again.
“Holy Christ,” David breathed
.
She was already sucking him again, and stroking him, too. Damn. Such. A. Quick. Learner. His bollocks tightened. His jaw locked. God. He hoped she wouldn’t regret this afterward. But when she pulled her wet lips off him and sucked his tip, before stroking down the entire length of him again, David knew it was too late. He moved one hand to the back of her head and gently grabbed a handful of her luxurious hair.
“Damn it, Annabelle,” he growled, grinding his teeth together as she slid down on him once more. “It’s too good.” He pumped himself into her mouth for the final time, his back arching, a tremendous groan ripped from his chest.
In the aftermath, he laid there, stunned. In his entire life he’d never had a climax grip him so hard. He’d wanted this woman for so long, and now that he’d had her, he only wanted more. And she was going to be his wife.
He waited for his breathing to set back to rights, while Annabelle snuggled against his chest with a grin on her face. He glanced at her twice. She didn’t look appalled. She looked…proud.
He pulled her toward him in the crook of his arm and kissed the top of her head. “That was…amazing.”
“Funny. That is the same word I would use to describe what you did to me,” she agreed. “I hope I wasn’t talking too much.”
He cracked a grin. “Love, when you touch me like that, you can talk as much as you want.”
She pushed herself up on one arm and leaned down to kiss his lips once, hard.
“I’m glad we did that,” she said, already sliding off the bed. “I’ll remember it forever.”
Warning bells sounded in the back of David’s skull as Annabelle pulled on her chemise.
He pushed himself off the bed, pulling the sheet with him to cover his hips. “The next time will be even better,” he said, watching her face carefully.
Her head snapped to face him. “Oh, no. David. This can never happen again, and of course, you mustn’t tell anyone.” She turned to stare at the bed. “Which reminds me. We should probably do something with the sheets, so the maids don’t—”
Dread poured through David’s veins like ice water. “I’ll take care of the sheets, Annabelle.” He couldn’t keep the desperation from his tone. “What do you mean ‘it can’t happen again’? You asked me to make you mine.”
“Yes, and it was…” She sighed and stretched her arms far above her head. “Lovely. But I think you’d agree that if we continue as lovers, it would only end in pain.”
He cocked his head to the side and stared at her as if she didn’t understand what she was saying. “‘Lovers’? ‘End’? I thought you’d changed your mind. I thought you wanted to marry me.”
Annabelle’s mouth snapped shut and horror doused her features. “Oh, no, David.” She shook her head so vigorously her hair flew over her shoulders. “I thought I was clear last night. I’ll never marry.”
“You only wanted me for one night?” he ground out, narrowing his eyes on her. “That’s what you meant when you said, ‘make me yours’?”
Annabelle reached out to cup his cheek, regret etched on her face. “Anything more would be too much of a risk.”
Letting the blasted bedsheet drop to the carpet, David grabbed his breeches from the floor, and pulled them on. Then he stalked over to the sideboard and poured a brandy. He downed nearly half the glass, guzzling it, before turning back to face her. “No, Annabelle. This time it’s not so simple. You’re not leaving here without telling me why. Why won’t you allow yourself to try?”
“You’re drinking?” she intoned, staring at the glass in his hand as if it were a poisonous snake.
David was so incensed by her sudden change of attitude he barely registered her words. She was trying to change the subject again and he had no intention of allowing it. He raised his voice. “Why are you so unwilling to commit to a man? Why are you so afraid of marriage?”
Annabelle’s face turned to stone. Her nostrils flared. “Just because I don’t fall at the feet of the first man who comes courting doesn’t mean I’m afraid.” Her eyes flashed ice-blue fire.
He tossed a hand in the air, and the rest of the drink down his throat. He set the glass back on the sideboard with a thud. “Oh, that’s right, you won’t fall at the feet of any man who comes courting! You just want to collect them all around your skirts.”
The moment the words passed his lips, he regretted them. But it was too late, and he was too angry to take them back.
“How dare you!” She leaned over and scooped her gown from the floor, pulling it over her head.
David came around the bed and towered over her. He was still incensed, but he didn’t want her to leave her like this, and there was still the issue of her getting back to her own bedchamber without being seen. He had to put aside his anger and help her dress at least. “Damn it, Annabelle,” he ground out as he flung up his arm to retrieve her errant stocking from the canopy.
A small cry issued from her throat and Annabelle ducked and crouched into a low ball on the floor.
David’s eyes went wide. He lowered his arm and stared down at her in disbelief. “Oh, God, Annabelle. You didn’t think—” He quickly crouched beside her, studying her face. “Please tell me you didn’t think I was going to strike you.”
“No.” Her voice shook. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “No, of course not.” She pushed herself to her feet again and took the stocking from him. He watched helplessly as she pulled on the rest of her clothing the best she could. The last few seconds played over and over in his mind. She’d denied it, but it was too late. He’d seen the look of terror in her eyes when she’d ducked. She had thought he was going to strike her. He was certain of it. He was horrified.
“Annabelle.” He reached for her, but she quickly moved away from him toward the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She couldn’t leave like this. He’d never be able to live with himself. He’d scared her. He’d truly scared her. He’d seen the fear in her eyes.
Her clothes were askew. Her hair was a mess. Her gown wasn’t buttoned, and her sash wasn’t tied. But apparently, she intended to sneak back to her own room that way.
She opened the door a crack and peeked out.
“Annabelle, wait—” David called, in a last desperate attempt to get her to talk to him.
“Good-bye,” she whispered, before slipping out the door.
Chapter Thirty
The weddings were lovely. Three brides. Three grooms. Three sets of vows and three couples promising to love each other for all eternity. As the bishop performed the ceremony the next morning, David couldn’t help but glance toward Annabelle. He’d glanced at her a hundred times already and she’d never once been glancing back.
Annabelle sat between her mother and Lord Murdock, who wore an obviously false grin on his face, especially during the parts of the ceremony when Lady Julianna declared her love for Lord Worthington. Annabelle’s countenance didn’t change, however, as she watched the couples declare themselves. She sat ramrod straight in her chair and stared directly ahead with a perfectly proper look on her face.
When it was Beau and Marianne’s turn to recite their vows, David was convinced he’d got something in his eye. He was beyond happy for his sister, who looked gorgeous on her special day. Marianne wore a lacy white gown, a white veil, and she carried a bouquet of lilies. She’d never looked lovelier. If their parents and Frederick were still alive, they would all be as proud as David was.
After the ceremony, a large breakfast was served in the great hall. After that, most of the guests retired to their rooms to rest and prepare for the night’s grand wedding ball.
David didn’t even attempt to rest. Instead, he took a walk through the nearby woods, picking up sticks and evaluating them on their merits for whittling projects. But he had no interest in keeping any of them. Instead, he tossed them each back onto the ground with a curse.
Last night had been both the best and the worst night of his life. Making love to Annabelle had been perfect. He�
��d loved every moment of it. But afterward, the dream had turned into a nightmare.
David scrubbed a hand through his hair and flung another stick away. Why? Why was Annabelle so set on remaining a spinster? There had to be a reason. Did she want to retain control of her life? He had no intention of telling her what to do. Was she frightened of childbirth? It was true that many women died while giving birth, but her own mother had had two successful births. There was every reason to believe Annabelle could, too.
It certainly wasn’t that she was unattracted to men. He knew that for certain. She hadn’t mentioned any grand desire to study a subject, or travel the world. What was it that made her intent upon remaining a spinster?
The image of her crouching beside the bed last night haunted him. He winced every time he thought about it. Annabelle had been frightened. Of him. She’d truly thought he was going to strike her. But why? He certainly had never done so before—to any woman—or given her any reason to believe he might.
Damn it. There were no answers. Only more questions.
He grudgingly made his way back to the house. He had a book to study.
* * *
The grand ballroom of Worthington Manor was filled with flowers, candles, and over five hundred wedding guests all celebrating the marriages of three of the most handsome and eligible bachelors of the ton, to three of the most beautiful and accomplished ladies.
David made the rounds as Marianne’s only living family member. He greeted people, spoke to them, asked after their health, and even made plans to meet some of them again in London. He downed glass after glass of champagne to stave off his nerves, but he forced himself to speak to most the ballroom’s occupants. He’d spent the afternoon studying that damned Debrett’s so he wouldn’t embarrass himself or Marianne on this night.
He danced with Lady Julianna and Lady Frances, wishing them well on their nuptials, and finally, he escorted his sister to the floor.
“You look beautiful, Marianne,” he said as they twirled around in a waltz. “Mama, Papa, and Frederick would be proud.”
Tears glistened in Marianne’s bright blue eyes. “Oh, I hope so, David. I’m so thankful that you’re here. I nearly lost you, too. There’s nothing more comforting to me than knowing you are no longer in harm’s way. I’m not certain I could live without my entire family.”
Earl Lessons: The Footmen’s Club Series Page 19
