Marriage of Lies

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  Ben sat up and removed the shirt. As he stretched, her gaze drew back to the low-hanging band of his trousers. She gave into the temptation to slide her hand beneath that band.

  Ben groaned and his hips jerked as she felt the soft skin. Then, another layer beneath the trousers. Underdrawers, she realized.

  “You are wearing far too many layers,” she told him. Removing a single layer would not bring her any closer to seeing what lay beneath.

  Ben laughed. “You are the first woman who has ever complained about layers. It is usually men who regret the time it takes to divest a lady of her clothes.”

  Sharla’s cheeks burned once more. “I spoke like a man?” she asked.

  He kissed her. “You spoke like a woman who knows what she wants. I like it.”

  If he liked it, then she would always speak of what she wanted. If she knew what she wanted, that is. She was still unsure of what lay ahead, although she was beginning to grasp the truth, as her body responded in ways she had never experienced. Ways that seemed ancient and instinctive.

  Because she wanted his trousers gone, she reached to snag the top button and release it. Then the next.

  Ben’s breath sucked in, with surprise and delight.

  Sharla realized that simply undressing him was arousing him. Pleasing him. She slowed her movements. The next button took as long as the first two had taken to be released. As she pretended to fumble with the button, she let her hand brush against the throbbing organ beneath the cloth.

  “Oh…you are…wicked!” Ben breathed raggedly. He made being wicked sound as if it was a good thing. His hips shifted as she worked, as if he would thrust himself into her hand.

  Sharla enjoyed the control she had over him. She teased and unbuttoned and eased the trousers open, taking her time. It was an exploration for her and torture for him.

  “Lift up,” she whispered, as the last button slid undone.

  Ben lifted his hips and she pulled his trousers and his underdrawers from him in one movement.

  He was finally naked, as she was.

  Sharla studied him. “You are not as I remember,” she murmured.

  “As you remember?”

  She hesitated. “When you were injured, I helped Dane treat you.”

  Ben let out a breath that had nothing to do with pleasure. “I did not realize…” Then he smiled. “The difference between what you saw then and what you seen now is the difference that comes from being awake and aware of a beautiful, bare woman lying in front of me.”

  Sharla’s gaze drew back to his shaft. It was rigid and far longer and wider than she remembered. She wanted to touch it, so she curled her fingers around it.

  Ben groaned. “Be careful,” he breathed. “Too much of your touch will end matters before they should.”

  She let him go quickly.

  Ben picked up her wrist and placed her hand back on him and gave tiny gasp. “I like your touch.”

  Clearly, he did, for as she tried sliding her fingers along the shaft, it twitched. Sharla explored every inch, trailing her fingers down the length and up again. It seemed more instinctive to curl her fingers around it, though, and draw them upward. That earned her Ben’s deep groan. His hips jerked as her hand bumped over the ridge at the top.

  She tried it again.

  Ben closed his eyes. The tendons in his neck stood out as they flexed.

  Sharla repeated the motion, keeping her hand moving backward and forward. Ben clutched at the counterpane, making small, hard noises that sounded desperate to her ears.

  Her own body throbbed in response. This was truly a feminine power, one she wished she had understood far sooner than this moment. Now she did know of it, she intended to exploit it, in every way she could.

  The soft sacs beneath his shaft looked swollen and red. She cupped them with her other hand, wondering what she could do to make Ben groan, or even if they were sensitive at all.

  Ben reached for her hands, tearing both of them away from him. “Enough.” His voice was hoarse. “I cannot stand more of it. Not now. I will be useless to you if you continue.”

  Disappointed, Sharla sat back. “That is all of it, then? It does not seem…complete.”

  “I am not done yet,” Ben assured her. He pushed on her shoulder, forcing her to lie down once more.

  Sharla’s heart skipped and hurried even more as he separated her thighs. Her legs fell apart with little encouragement. For a moment, the same modest coyness grip her. “Does looking at me please you, still?” she asked, for Ben’s gaze lingered at what was revealed.

  “Oh yes,” he said, his voice low. He moved over her, his big body heated and heavy.

  He pulled her knee up high, against his hip. “Take a deep breath and relax,” he murmured.

  His shaft pressed against her very inner folds and a small, still voice whispered yes, I see! in her mind.

  Ben pushed deeper inside and she spread around him. He held still, watching her face. She realized he was measuring her comfort. Distantly, she recalled the whispers and gossip about wedding nights and blood and pain and fear.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she whispered.

  Ben pushed deeper and this time something gave inside her. It still didn’t hurt, yet the passage Ben invaded eased open.

  He pushed deeper, until the base of his belly pressed hard against her. He propped himself over her, most of his weight on his arms and his…

  “Your knee!” Sharla breathed.

  “A tiny discomfort that means nothing while I am inside you,” Ben breathed.

  Sharla clutched at him as he withdrew.

  Then he pushed back inside again, buried deep and she gasped.

  “That pleases you?” he asked.

  “Yes!”

  He did it again. And again.

  Her foot shifted restlessly and settled on his legs. It opened her up in a way that made what he was doing even more delightful. She put her other leg over him and gasped as he moved even more deeply inside her.

  Her hips shifted, lifting themselves, as the flesh between her legs pulsed with each touch of his body against it.

  Excitement rose in her. She did not know how it could continue to rise as it did. Ben’s evident and building pleasure added to her own, making her excitement build.

  Ben’s movements inside her quickened, until he was pounding against her. She welcomed the frantic beat. It enhanced every tingle and ripple spreading through her, making her nerves zap.

  Then he stiffened against her, his hips thrusting hard, then slammed against her a last time and grew still. His shaft pulsed.

  Ben groaned, his eyes closing. The deep furrow between his brows spoke of pain, yet the tautness of his body said otherwise.

  Her own tight body was evidence of that.

  He sagged, his head resting against hers. He was trembling. With slow movements, he pulled out of her and settled on the bed next to her. He was breathing hard.

  “That is all of it?” she asked, feeling an odd sense of disappointment.

  Ben shook his head. “That is the end for me until I recover.” His eyes opened a little. “With you in my arms, that will not take long at all.”

  Sharla smiled. She didn’t fully understand what he meant, yet she liked the implied compliment.

  “While I recover, though, I can return the favor,” he added. His hand settled on her belly. The fingers spread, as if he was tasting her with the tips.

  Her muscles rippled beneath his hand. It was close to that most sensitive apex between her thighs.

  As if he had read her thoughts, he moved his hand to between her legs. His fingers fluttered against the heated flesh there.

  He bent his head and sucked in the tip of her breast. His tongue rasped over the tip of it, sending excitement flaring out across her body.

  At the same time, his fingers pressed between her inner folds and came up against her core. Sharla gasped, as her spine snapped taut and her hips thrust. She realized she was gripping the counterpane
as Ben had done when her hand was on him.

  His fingers did not remain still. They stroked and teased.

  Sharla writhed with the pleasure that leapt and stole her breath. Her eyes drifted closed. She heard the guttural noises she was making, but was beyond embarrassment.

  The pleasure climbed. Now, all she could focus on was the pleasure itself.

  Her breath hitched and hitched again.

  The excitement peaked. The cry she uttered was half-groan, half-scream. It passed through her, shredding nerves and straining tendons.

  She fell back upon the bed, every limb a heavyweight, her heart pounding so fast that the beats blended into each other. Her body seemed light and silvered and every inch of flesh tingled.

  “Oh!” she breathed.

  Ben smiled. “Yes, indeed. Oh.”

  “Now I understand so much!” She forced herself to move, to turn onto her side and rest her hand against Ben’s chest once more. His heart was beating rapidly, too. “Again, please.”

  Ben laughed and pulled her closer.

  * * * * *

  Mayerick stole into the drawing room, turning down the last of the gas lamps before he retired for the night. He could have given the duty to a younger footman, yet he was a well-trained man who believed a butler should see to the safe-keeping of the household for the night.

  When he saw Dane sitting in the big armchair, the wine bottle from dinner on the table next to him, Mayerick paused. “Your Grace! You startled me. I thought you had retired long ago.”

  “It’s a night for reflection,” Dane told him. “Sleep is too far away.”

  “It has been a day of adventure, yes,” Mayerick said in agreement. “Only it is very late, your Grace.”

  “I intend to stay here for a while,” Dane told him. “Why don’t you turn in, Mayerick? I’ll take care of the lights on the upper floors, when I do go to bed.”

  “If you’re sure, your Grace…”

  “I am.”

  Mayerick studied him. “Is everything all right, your Grace?”

  “Yes, everything is just fine,” Dane assured him truthfully. A smile formed all by itself. “It is very fine, indeed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sharla woke as the first of the day was filtering through the lace at the window, settling pretty shadow patterns on the rug beside the bed.

  There was no disorientation, as she thought there should be. There was no confusion. Ben’s arm was heavy over her waist. His body was hot against her back. His soft breath against her neck was perhaps the sweetest of the caresses she had enjoyed this long, long night.

  She was completely a woman now. After many repetitions of the delightful peaks of delight—climaxes, Ben had told her they were called—she could not claim otherwise.

  It was the joy and pleasure of the night that made her feel almost nauseous now. The coming daylight meant she must rise and face Dane.

  Sharla didn’t know how she was supposed to do that. How did one behave, when one’s husband had directed their downfall?

  After a day of helping Ben out of trouble, of dealing with the odious Mr. Wash, Dane had given her and Ben exactly what they wished.

  How was she to respond to that?

  Ben stirred against her. His lips touched her shoulder. “Your heart is racing. What thoughts circle that fertile mind of yours now?”

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was half-asleep. I was enjoying having you here, in my arms.” His arm shifted against her and his palm slid beneath her breast. It was a slow movement, not designed to arouse her, but to claim her.

  Sharla closed her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about Dane,” she murmured. “It seems indelicate to consider another man when I’m here with you, yet that is where my thoughts turned.”

  “He wanted this to happen,” Ben reminded her, although she could feel the tension building in him.

  “I can’t help thinking that my mother would be disappointed in me, if she learned of last night. More than that.” Her mother would rail at her, lecturing and grinding Sharla’s will to dust. She would make her feel lower than an earthworm and utterly insignificant.

  “Elisa is the one you should care to please,” Ben told her. “She is more your mother than your real mother has ever been. I can tell you now that Elisa would be pleased by this arrangement.”

  “Would she?” Sharla asked, her heart working harder. “I don’t know anymore. I can’t tell if I am a good person anymore. Or am I so wicked I can no longer sense goodness and that is why I can’t tell? How many people will we hurt, by what we have done?”

  Ben turned her over, so she was looking at him. He was not impatient or exasperated. His gaze was sober as he stroked her face and brushed her hair from it. “We took a single night for ourselves. That is all. No one need learn of it. We will take it to our graves.” He kissed her. “Myself, I will thank God for it. Yesterday and last night, I learned that I had gained a friend. A most unexpected friend, who let us be together. This morning I will rise and be a friend to him in any way I can.”

  Sharla held his face, his very dear face. “Yes, that is it exactly. I have suddenly discovered a friend who has been there all along. I’ve only grown wise enough to see him, now. I don’t want to hurt him, Ben. He has been good to both of us.”

  “Let us be a friend to him, then,” Ben said. “We support him in any way he needs, just as he has done for us.” He kissed her, deep and hard. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing her cheek.

  Sharla sighed. Now she understood exactly what that meant.

  * * * * *

  Dane was already at breakfast when Sharla arrived. Ben came downstairs a moment after her, so they would not arrive together and Dane looked up at them with an easy smile.

  “Sit. Eat. You must be hungry,” he told them.

  Sharla blushed. She was hungry, perhaps for the first time in months and it could only be because of the energy she had used during the night.

  Ben sat without comment, looking as urbane as Dane.

  Sharla forced herself to sit, trying to remember how she normally behaved in the morning. Everything was different, now! Even the purple morning dress she wore, that she had worn a dozen times in the past, felt different against her body.

  Yet Mayerick served her bacon just as usual. Tea was poured for her, just as it always was.

  Gradually, she relaxed.

  “I presumed you would want to return to your family and tell them your news as soon as possible, Ben,” Dane said. “I had the carriage brought around first thing. As soon as you’re ready, we can leave.”

  “We?” Ben asked.

  Dane buttered toast, concentrating on it. “I thought if I were there to vouch for everything you say, your father might be further reassured.”

  “He would, at that,” Ben said. “Very well. First, though, I must eat. If I do not, I will pass out.”

  Mayerick slid a full plate in front of him.

  “You are a prince among men, Mayerick,” Ben told him.

  “Thank you, sir,” Mayerick replied. With a short bow toward Ben, he left the three of them alone in the dining room.

  “I think he likes you,” Dane observed.

  “I’ve no idea why,” Ben replied. “Unless he likes boxing?”

  “Mayerick is a good judge of character,” Dane said blandly. He looked at Sharla. “Will you come with us, this morning?”

  “I would like to, yes,” Sharla admitted. She remembered her vow to always ask for, or take, what she wanted. “Would you tell me everything that happened yesterday, on the way? There are still gaps in my understanding and I want to fully comprehend the…threats.”

  Dane’s gaze was steady. “I promised you a full explanation. Now, I believe, you understand why I wanted to wait until today.” His gaze shifted to Ben, then back to her.

  “I understand a great deal that was completely opaque to me,” Sharla said. “I’ve discovered I like knowing everything.”


  “There’s a surprise,” Ben remarked and took a huge mouthful of eggs.

  Dane laughed. It was a carefree sound and made Sharla smile, too.

  * * * * *

  As soon as the meal was complete, all three of them rose to their feet as if they had read each other’s minds. Sharla hurried from the room ahead of the two men. Smithers had already placed her bonnet and things on the table in the front hall, including her parasol. The bright light spilling through the windows said the day would be one of the hottest of the month. It was not yet seven o’clock, yet the warmth was already building.

  Ben and Dane did not bother with coats. It was simply too warm. Mayerick handed them their hats and opened the front door.

  The carriage was sitting at the curb, the driver standing at the horses’ noses, murmuring to them and patting them. He came around to open the carriage door when he saw the three of them.

  From around the back end of the carriage, four burly men in workers’ clothes stepped onto the pavement. They had dirty faces, there were leaves and twigs in their clothes and they smelled damp and disgusting. Had they spent the evening in the park, across the road?

  “You’d be the Duke of Wakefield, then,” the shortest of them said, crossing his arms. The other three spread out, in a way that encircled Ben, Dane and her. Sharla inched closer to Ben and Dane, her uneasiness building.

  “I am Wakefield,” Dane said. “What business is it of yours?”

  “Easton Wash is my business,” Shorty replied. “Or he was. Only he paid his debt in full last night and that makes me very unhappy.”

  “Getting your money back makes you unhappy?” Ben asked.

  “I liked Wash owing me,” Shorty snapped, dull fury showing in his eyes. “He would do anything for me, while I held his marker. Now, thanks to Wakefield, the blighter is free as air.”

  “I still fail to see how that is my business,” Dane replied.

  “I think he wants his interest out of you,” Ben said.

  “Right in one, gov,” Shorty replied.

  Dane didn’t look surprised or enlightened. Sharla suspected he’d known it would come to this the moment the men stepped around the carriage. She drew even closer to Dane and Ben, her heart running unhappily.