Ravishing Regencies: The Complete Series: A Steamy Regency Romance Boxset

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Ravishing Regencies: The Complete Series: A Steamy Regency Romance Boxset Page 49

by Emily Murdoch


  Eventually he lifted his head and looked down at her. Chloe – Miss Vaughn, that is – was lazily smiling, her eyes filled with lust, her lips still parted, pink with the pressure of his passion.

  “I – I will admit,” he said raggedly, barely able to find enough breath to speak, “that I am starting to become … well, a little overwhelmed by my feelings for you, Miss Vaughn.”

  “You are not alone in that regard,” breathed Chloe – and he could only think of her as Chloe now, and would always. “Curiosity has always been my fault, and yet in this case, it is surely a sin to be tempted so. Oh, Sir Moses, you make my body feel things – things that I have never felt before …”

  And her hands were still twisted into his hair, and he could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and it made him want her all the more …

  But he couldn’t. How could he even consider such a thing? A woman such as her, a woman on her own, a woman unprotected, with no chaperone.

  No one would ever have to know. The thought raced through his mind faster than he could stop it, and now there was nothing he could do. He had to ask, he had to see whether the look in her eyes was just a feeling, or a determination to luxuriate in the pleasure that was but minutes away, should she choose it.

  Moses’ eyes darted upwards. “We … we are about to view one of the most spectacular bedrooms in all of England.”

  His voice was jerky, and for a moment he was unsure whether she had heard him correctly, so transfixed as he was with the lust in her eyes.

  “I would never want to take advantage of you,” he breathed, and he meant it. This woman wasn’t just flesh, she was intelligent, and witty, but most of all at this moment, she was doing things to his body that he had thought would no longer be possible. “I would only do what you wanted. What you asked of me. What you craved.”

  And then the light of dawning comprehension illuminated her eyes, and there was excitement there too, he was sure of it.

  “You said to me,” Moses said hurriedly, “that you do not believe romance to be necessary for a successful marriage. What was it you said, exactly – that it is possible for two people to come together – ”

  “With a mutual understanding,” Chloe smiled, and it was wicked. “For the betterment of both without the entanglement of romance. Is that what you want?”

  “I want you,” he breathed. “And I do not think that I am wrong when I say that you would not be averse to exploring the pleasures of the flesh.”

  He could not have imagined it; there was a quickening in her heart rate, and his own body throbbed in response.

  “But – but the consequences,” she whispered.

  “I can take precautions,” Moses said quickly. “This can be completely physical, Chloe.”

  She shivered in his arms at the sound of her name on his lips, and he almost groaned aloud. By God, he must be mad to suggest this, mad to even think of it, but if she said yes…

  There was a smile on her face, but it was wry. “Like an itch that needs to be scratched?”

  “No one will ever know,” he breathed. “It will just be between us – an experience that we share, treasure even, but never need to speak about.”

  If only he could read the expression in her eyes; if only he could know what she was thinking. But that was what was so intoxicating about Miss Chloe Vaughn: she was no village miss, with naught in her mind but gossip and tittle tattle. This was a woman, in body and mind, with a soul of practicality that matched his needs and a smile that made him want to do dark and wonderful things.

  “Then yes. And you will owe me nothing,” Chloe said eventually, and her gaze was sharp, even through the haze of desire. “Nothing, do you understand?”

  Moses’ heart started to sing, but before he could respond she had leaned upwards to capture his lips with hers.

  It was more than he could take. With a growl that was barely contained, Moses lifted her up in one quick movement and strode quickly up the stairs.

  Had the floor fallen away, or was she so mesmerised by the kiss that seemed to sear and burn her very soul that she had forgotten how to walk?

  Chloe did not care, for she was in Sir Moses Wandorne’s arms and she had said yes to the most scandalous request she had ever received, and yet it felt so right. His arms around her, his mouth possessing hers, and her eyes were closed and she was lost, lost to him.

  She swung round as they entered a room, and she was falling, caught by the softest sheets she had ever felt. Opening her eyes, she gasped.

  There was too much, too much to take in. The bed on which she now lay was large, larger by far than any bed she had ever encountered. Rich hangings adorned the four poster bed, and the room seemed to go on for miles, with tapestries on the walls, gold shining everywhere, lit by the one solitary candle that Sir Moses had carried – but the decorations were not what had caused the gasp.

  There he stood: the man who had awakened her body to the delights of the senses. His shirt had already gone, she knew not where, and he looked at her intently, with fire in his eyes, as his fingers slowly unbuttoned the top of his breeches, and then dropped them to the floor.

  Chloe’s eyes widened. She was a natural philosopher, she reminded herself, and this was just another type of exploration – and the theory she had known, but this, seeing him, seeing all of him, seeing the entirety of him was …

  A warmth was growing between her legs, and she knew exactly why. She pushed herself up on her elbows, eventually found the end of the bed, stood on the floor, and smiled at him.

  “Come here,” she whispered.

  He did not need the encouragement. Moses kissed her with a hunger that must have been a year in the making, pent up with desire and heat and longing that almost overwhelmed her. His hands were tight around her buttocks, and she unconsciously tilted them upwards, meeting the stiff hardness that made him groan into her mouth like he was dying.

  “God, Chloe, you have no idea what – you cannot know what you do to me,” he muttered as he pulled away from her mouth and trailed hot kisses down her neck.

  If she had had the breath to respond to him then, she would have told him just what he was doing to her, but she barely knew. Her back arched to lift her breasts closer towards that exploratory mouth, aching for something, aching for his touch, and his grip on her tightened and she moaned in pleasure.

  “I have to get this off,” she murmured, pulling at her gown – but Moses was too quick for her. The ribbon that he had so carefully tied just a few hours ago was unravelled in one swift pull, and the gown was falling, and Chloe gasped as she stood there, utterly naked, save those sparkling earrings.

  But there was no time for embarrassment, no time to feel shame, for the sight of her naked form, the way that her breasts were moving quickly with her shuddering breathing, her wet lips reaching out for another kiss seemed to utterly break him.

  “By God, I will have you now.”

  She had guessed that he was strong but now she knew it. Moses lifted her and threw her back on the bed, and before she could catch her breath he had joined her there and his hot hard body was against her soft warm one, and he nestled between her legs as though he had always belonged there – and of course he had, Chloe thought wildly as the ache in her grew and grew, he was hers and she was his, and this was too good to be real!

  His hands fondled her breasts and teased out inch after inch of pleasure, and her own fingers scraped at his back, unable to control themselves as the need for him grew in her.

  “Moses – yes, more!” was her constant cry, and he gave her more, and more, until lights started appearing in her eyes and her grip around him tightened and he deepened his kiss once more to ravage her passionately.

  And then he stopped and looked down at her, and Chloe looked up through pleasure hazed eyes.

  They lay there for a moment, hot and entwined, echoes of recent desire throbbing through her, and Chloe thought that he was going to say something, as though words were just on the tip
of his tongue.

  And then he leaned forward and reached for something beyond where she could see, and when he returned to her field of vision, he was pulling something from an envelope.

  “What is – ”

  “Protection,” he gasped, as though barely able to control himself. “To prevent any … consequences.”

  Whatever it was, Chloe could not see, but she did not need to: all she had to do was feel as he entered her wetness, and she writhed under the pleasure that the movement gave her.

  “Oh, Moses, what – ”

  That was all she managed. At that very moment, Moses began the sweetest rhythm, one hand teasing her nipple, one hand cupping her buttocks towards him, his mouth utterly possessing her own, and the hardness of his body entering her and leaving her in a slow but strong movement.

  If she had any mind to speak, it would have been faster and harder, but instinct took over and her hips, guided by Moses’ hand, started to rock, deepening the pace, and her back arched against the hand that was teasing her breast and yet sparking jolts of pleasure between her breasts and her secret place, and how could such ecstasy be matched?

  “This is it,” Moses jaggedly whispered in her ear, finally releasing her from a kiss that she never wanted to end. “Look at me Chloe – look into my eyes as we – ”

  “As we what?” Chloe asked wildly. “As we – oh God!”

  She did not need his answer in words, for his body responded at her excited and innocent question. As Moses groaned her name over and over again, he pounded into her and the friction and slickness of it all, his fingers working her breast and forcing her buttocks to rock against him in the perfect rhythm pushed her over the edge into a mind-blowing explosion of pleasure and ecstasy that seemed to continue for hours.

  Moses watched the half-asleep form lying in his arms. It must have been an hour since they had shared the most intense thing that two people could, and yet he had not grown bored of just looking at her face.

  Worn out and warm in the afterglow of lovemaking, Chloe was nestled in his arms with eyes barely open.

  Her lashes flickered, and she glanced up at him – and it was as though he had been struck by lightning. All of a sudden, the emotions that he had not even realised that he had been holding back rushed over him like a torrent, like a waterfall finally tipping over the edge, like a dam that had been held back for too long.

  This was the only woman, the only person, who had been able to put a smile on his face in the last year, and not because they made love, but because she was bright, and smart, and beautiful. She was not afraid of him, and she was not afraid to offend him. She was something utterly new.

  “Chloe,” Moses whispered, and he could not help but smile as he spoke. “You are quite beautiful, you know. Inside and out. And you have … you are the first person to …”

  His voice trailed off, as he noticed Chloe’s breathing had slowed, and her eyes were closed.

  Miss Vaughn was fast asleep.

  6

  When Chloe awoke in the softest bed she could ever remember, she was completely alone.

  Her eyes blinked in the soft light and then took in the incredibly lavish bed with silk sheets, hangings with gold embroidery around the four posts, and more pillows and cushions than she would ever know what to do with. There was the sense that someone else had been there, too, but no evidence of another.

  She cleared her throat and the room echoed. Blinking, her eyes tried to take it all in, but the room seemed to go on forever, with tapestries on one side, and gold framed paintings on the other.

  She had never found a room in The Beeches like this. Was it a state bedroom that she had wandered into last night?

  The ceiling, she could see, was painted with Grecian looking cherubs. One of them near the door had a large glass of wine, but she could not remember drinking anything like –

  The walk. The water. Wandorne.

  The lake and the boat and the rain and –

  Chloe sat up, and only then realised that she was completely naked in the bed, and Sir Moses was absolutely nowhere to be seen. The sunlight that was drifting lazily through the windows was clearly from late morning.

  How long had she slept? When had he left her? Immediately after ..?

  And now the memories of that hedonist night rushed back, and Chloe blushed slightly to remember how wanton her behaviour had been. To think that she had agreed to – and wanted! – such a night, with such a man. Bedded by a baronet.

  Her body did not look any different, and yet she felt different: whole, as though a part of her had been missing before. As though a question had been asked at the very beginning of her life, and until last night, she had never had an answer.

  Suddenly the bed felt too large, too lonely. Chloe pulled herself out of the silk sheets and found the gown that had been lent to her crumpled in a heap on the floor, lying where it had been dropped from her naked body as Moses’ hands –

  Chloe blushed, even though she was alone. The heat of her thoughts was more than enough to bring a pink glow to her cheek.

  It took her but two minutes to get dressed, and this time she had enough presence of mind to weave the ribbon carefully before she stepped into it, pulled the back tight with a quick tug, and knotting it carefully. Slipping her feet into her shoes and glancing once more around the room where she had – quite willingly – lost her innocence, she left the room.

  And gasped. The landing that she had stepped out into, ignored as it had been when she had been carried in Sir Moses’ arms towards the promise of pleasure, was truly spectacular. The high arched ceiling was broken up with large panes of glass, causing light to drift down and give the feeling of an orangery, or a glass house.

  The stairs were wide and covered in red velvet carpet with gold trimmed at the edges. Every step Chloe took brought her before new beauties, and although she could still see the neglect, the cobwebs at the edges, the lack of love that this house had suffered, it was still beautiful.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she looked around her, as though hoping to see a clearly lettered sign pointing to the breakfast room. Had she even been shown the breakfast room in that heady tour Moses – Sir Moses, Chloe reminded herself sternly – had given her last night?

  The thought of that gentleman made her head spin slightly. What was she going to say to him? What was he going to say to her? Or would they just ignore it, pretend that it did not happen, act as though the experiment was a success?

  Chloe smiled at the remembrance of the pleasure he had given her. Well, it had certainly been a success.

  She opened a door and discovered a large and leather lined billiard room. After trying another door, she found what could only be a gun room, and on the third attempt, the library.

  Temptation overpowered her, and despite the slight grumbling in her stomach that was crying out for sustenance, Chloe took a few steps into the room when her eyes caught sight of a book’s spine with words inscribed in gold.

  She did not even stop to think. Reaching forward, Chloe brought the book down, and saw in the title page that it was a book she had not yet read, entitled Organon der rationellen Heilkunde. Without taking her eyes from the book, she took a few steps to the nearest armchair, curled up in it, and started to read.

  The sound of the door opening caused her to start, and the man standing in the doorway did nothing to quieten her racing heart. Her stomach lurched, and not due to hunger: Sir Moses was even more handsome than she remembered, and today he was just as improperly dressed as before, his shirt opened and unbuttoned at the top, revealing the promise of a broad and muscular chest.

  A chest that had been clutched to hers, the hair on it scraping against her breasts and awakening –

  “Ha!” Sir Moses barked out a laugh, and shook his head with a smile. “I should have expected to find you here, rather than whiling away the morning with your toilette or newspapers.”

  Chloe raised a self-conscious hand to her hair, realising that it
had not been brushed in almost a day and had started to go a little wild. Well, completely wild.

  But Sir Moses did not seem to have noticed a thing. “Breakfast is ready.”

  With those three words, he left the doorway without a second glance.

  A flush of something like rage, and a little more like frustration, pinked Chloe’s cheeks. Well, was that the sort of way to greet a guest a good morning? A guest, moreover, with whom you had shared … with whom you had just experienced, for the first time …

  And now her cheeks darkened into a deeper pink, nearing red. It had been the first time to experience such wonderful things for her, it was true, but that did not mean that it was necessarily the first time for him. A man so gentle and yet knowing in the ways of love: how could she had thought it? And yet she had not thought to ask, not even considered whether Sir Moses and his fiancée had ever …

  Chloe blanched at the very thought of it and rose from the armchair, leaving the book sorrowfully behind. She knew that they had agreed to keep what happened last night unemotional, but still. She had hoped that there would be a little more politeness than this; he had not even remained to show her the way.

  The reason for this soon became obvious. The door for the next room had been left ajar, and from it echoed the noise of knife and fork on plate.

  Entering it with as elegant and controlled a walk as possible – a real effort – Chloe saw that Sir Moses was seated awkwardly facing the door with a look on his face that she could not read. Was it intrigue? Was it embarrassment? He certainly looked discomforted.

  As she lowered herself into the chair opposite him, Sir Moses smiled at her with little emotion behind his eyes.

  “Help yourself,” he said gruffly. “Anything you want, ask Baxter here, and he can tell you whether or not Cook will stand for it.”

  Chloe raised an eyebrow at Baxter, who was standing by the doorway and inclined his head to her in a morning greeting.

  Which was far more gracious than anything she had received from his master. Chloe sat, motionless, unsure what to say. Should she bring up the night before in conversation? Could she even countenance such a thought, with Baxter standing, right there, ready and waiting to hear any and all words that came out of her mouth?

 

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