Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1)

by Anna Campbell

  The sweet essence of brandy lingered on Lauren’s lips. It paled in comparison to the flavor of her mouth when he delved deeper. She tasted of sugared peaches and reluctant desire. Theodore wanted to feast on her until any woman in his life before her was erased.

  Without interrupting the kiss, he scooped her up into his arms, swallowing her tiny moan of surprise. The bed was only steps away, and he carefully placed her atop the coverlet, crawling up beside her, never breaking the fusion of their mouths.

  Lauren’s robe fell open, further exposing her body. There was no hope of resisting the lure of such beauty. Theodore’s hand lifted, smoothing the filmy garment away until the sheer gown beneath the robe was revealed.

  With a groan, Theodore tore away, breathing heavily. Fascinated, he watched his own hand mold her breast through the fabric, shaping it to fit the span of his palm. Lauren’s eyes latched on his while she shivered under the weight of his large body. They fluttered shut as he leaned back down, hovering above her like a beast with a fresh kill.

  “Lauren, if I dangled mistletoe over you this very moment, what would you grant me? Another kiss? A truth? Or a favor?” Each choice was punctuated with a heated kiss along the column of her neck, his hand sliding to the hem of the nightgown. It had ridden high when he placed her upon the bed, exposing her long legs. During their kiss, it edged up even further until it lay atop her thighs.

  Encountering the bare skin there, Theodore shuddered. Damn. She was smooth as silk, her flesh warm and soft. A whimper escaped her as his fingers skated along until he reached the gentle flare of her hip.

  “An answer, darling,” he murmured. “Kiss. Truth. Or favor.”

  “Truth.” The admission flew out in a hiss when Theodore nipped the slope of her shoulder. “I—I will give you a truth.”

  Shifting his weight, he let his fingers dance between her thighs. With deliberate movements, they dipped into the soft wetness there, brushing the delicate button of nerves until her hips lifted to meet his touch. For long, breathless moments, he stroked her. Until she was panting. Writhing. Desperate. Hungry.

  “I’m listening, Lauren.”

  She bit her lip, and Theodore forced back his own groan of lust. She was pulling him under. Drowning him in a sea of desire.

  “I want you, Theo. But don’t… don’t hurt me…” Her answer was the barest of whispers.

  “Never.” The sudden press of his fingertips against her most sensitive flesh elicited a gasp of pleasure from her lungs. Theodore’s heart swelled with tender protectiveness at the frantic sound. God, he wanted to hear that from her lips every night for the rest of his life. “I’d just as soon cut out my own heart.”

  Lauren hesitated before giving an almost imperceptible nod of surrender. “Then do your worst, Hawthorne.”

  He smiled at her bravery, gliding his blunt, elegant fingers over her slickened folds again. “Darling, nothing but my best will ever do where you are concerned.” Taking her mouth with his again, he kissed and sucked at the plump flesh of her lips until she mimicked his actions.

  When he finally pulled back, Theodore was the one who was slightly breathless. Drunk on the sweet taste of her mouth and the damp silkiness of her flesh. “I’ll stop the moment you ask it of me, Lauren.”

  Her fingers coasted over his shoulders, testing the muscles bunched and hidden beneath his shirt. “And if I don’t ask?”

  “You will.” Theodore took her hand, kissed her fingertips, then grasped her other hand so both wrists were easily bound in the circle of his fist.

  Her dove-grey eyes dilated slightly when he tugged her arms until they stretched above her head. Displayed and immobile, Lauren trembled beneath him, caught up in the whirlwind of desire.

  Bloody hell, how he wanted her. Wanted to fully claim her. Wanted to bind her to him and make her his forever. Wanted to plant his babe in her belly and watch her grow round with the life they created together.

  “You are so beautiful, Lauren. My heart aches just to look at you sometimes,” he confessed.

  In response, Lauren tilted her hips so they bumped against his. Her tongue darted out, moistening full pink lips already parted in anticipation of his mouth descending upon hers. She moaned in delight when he gave in to the invitation, kissing her with a wild roughness that should have terrified her.

  “Remember, darling,” he whispered between the deep, invasive sweeps of her mouth and the conquering of her soul, “you must stop me when you’ve had enough or if I take more than I should.”

  Chapter 13

  Lauren was certain of it.

  She’d never been kissed so thoroughly. So deeply. So… intensely.

  Theodore slid a knee between her legs, pressing her open. The upper portion of his thigh brushed against the sensitive tissues of her sex. He was built like a Greek god, the muscles of his leg hard as stone and unyielding against her softness. His actions became increasingly bolder, his fingers gliding over her in sensuous repetition.

  The brush of his erection on her leg startled her. The powerful force of it, thick and straining against the confines of his clothing, sent dizzying waves of lust galloping through her veins.

  She couldn’t breathe. Gulping for air, she struggled to calm herself as he nibbled on her skin and his fingers explored her flesh as he wished.

  Would she have the resolution to stop him? Would she even wish to stop him? She couldn’t be sure when her willpower was almost nonexistent.

  Every time she took a breath, Theodore stole it. Every time she writhed, he stilled her, the inability to move provoking more flames from deep within her belly. From under her skin. From inside her heart. Until she was consumed and incinerated to dust.

  “Yes, that’s it, my love,” he grated out as she moaned. Still holding her hands in one fist, he gripped her hip with the other. Pushing harder, he lazily guided her movements until she rocked upon his thigh. The encouragement to use his body as though it were an instrument of pleasure spiked her desire past a breaking point.

  Pressure gathered. Built. Swirled and sought escape. A mindless, irrational need clawed at her insides. Swelled until she almost sobbed in desperation. She would do anything… anything… for him.

  “Theodore… Theodore…” Her voice was shaky. High-pitched. Greedy. “Yes. God, yes...”

  Before she could fathom his actions, Theodore ripped her gown open. The thin cloth tore easily in his large hands, exposing her body to the chill of the room. But she didn’t care, and there was no time to contemplate the loss of the garment. He moved with such graceful swiftness it was startling. His thigh shifted away. In a blatant claim of possession, his body slid down hers. His head dipped lower. His mouth claimed her aching sex and then…

  And then heat combined with overwhelming, exquisite sensations. His tongue explored the delicate seam of her womanly core, reverently tracing the plump flesh. Flattening to taste all of her in one long, leisurely swipe, he ended this first assault in a fiercely gentle suckling of the nub hidden behind the soft curls.

  Lauren cried out. Agonized delight flooded her, exploding in bursts of color and sensations too intense to comprehend. Releasing her wrists, Theodore now gripped her hips with enough force to bruise the skin. Those large, capable hands slid under her buttocks, holding her aloft as if in sacrifice to ancient gods. His fingers grasped so tight she knew instantly he would devour her with the ferocity of a hungry lion.

  “You fucking taste like peaches,” Theodore growled, sucking and licking and biting between words. “Come in my mouth again, love. Come again for me.”

  His tongue speared her flesh, thrusting with such firmness that Lauren began shaking once more as he commanded her body. Disjointed thoughts tumbled in her mind. Was this the residue of the first climax? Or the beginning of a second?

  When it finally crashed over her, the glorious intensity was overwhelming. Her world spiraled out of control. Disoriented, Lauren could only weave her fingers through the thick waves of his hair. The silky strands
were something to grasp, something tangible in the palm of her hand. She held on for dear life.

  But it didn’t contain her. It couldn’t. She was floating away. Floating on a cloud, somewhere in a twinkling night sky. The threads of her soul and all the lifeless pieces of her life were illuminated. So brightly lit, she wouldn’t be able to view her reflection in a mirror come morning. Spreading deep, permeating her vulnerable heart, thunder rumbled through her body. Or maybe it was just his voice, declaring she belonged to him. That he was keeping her.

  A storm had come.

  And Theodore was the lightning.

  Lauren drifted down in a pleasant, hazy fog of awareness.

  Theodore still knelt between her thighs, nuzzling her skin, kissing the mound of her womanhood with tender attentiveness. His fingers no longer gripped her so harshly but now coasted over her. Skimming the soft, white flesh of her belly, tracing the lines of her flanks and the quivering expanse of her outer thighs. Sliding his hands to the inside of her legs, he pushed them to spread even wider.

  At the stretch of her muscles, Lauren lifted her head, meeting his eyes over the plane of her flat stomach. While his glittered with a mixture of desire and regret, she did not see any indication he would go further than he already had. Disappointment edged away her satisfaction at the realization.

  “You should stop me now, Lauren.”

  The words whispered across her skin where his mouth pressed. Each breath was a little spark from a bigger fire. Each caress a flame waiting to be reignited. Each kiss a promise he could burn her alive again and again, and she would beg him not to stop.

  “Why?”

  Lust flashed in the blue depths of his gaze at her question. He did not look away as he nipped her hipbone before answering.

  “Because soon, I won’t be able to stop. Push me away, Lauren, before I do something irrevocable. I don’t have the willpower, you see. Not with you.” His smile was sad. Lopsided. “I never do with you.”

  “You haven’t any mistletoe,” she said. “No justification.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I won’t need it. Now, push me away.” Even as he harshly instructed her, his fingers were spreading her open again, preparing her for the lush sinfulness of his mouth.

  “I—I cannot,” Lauren groaned as he thrust two fingers inside her. Hot and probing, his tongue darted out, lapping up the evidence of her arousal. “Theodore, please. Don’t stop.”

  Oh, what was wrong with her that she was eagerly accepting of this? So hungry for him? So desperate for his touch? He had turned her world upside down. Everything was topsy-turvy. To the point she would give him every shilling of her obscenely massive inheritance. “I cannot deny you.”

  “Lauren, I’m begging you…” His words were frantic, muttered between licks of her flesh. “Send me away!”

  Still fully dressed in afternoon attire, although minus his coat, Lauren dazedly supposed Theodore resembled some sort of ravaging beast hovering over his prey. How pale she must appear in comparison, her nudity in stark contrast to his dark clothing. She couldn’t send him away. Not when he was so hungry for her and she for him.

  With customary stubbornness, Lauren shook her head, clutching handfuls of his hair so she could hold him harder against her. Theodore cursed something unintelligible, the heat of his breath searing her flesh.

  “Then I will take what is mine, and before I make love to you, I will taste your sweetness once more on my lips.” He suckled the sensitive bud between his teeth and gently bit down while thrusting his fingers upward in a curling motion.

  Ecstasy, sharp and sweetly exquisite, loomed on the horizon. But this was different from before. This robbed Lauren of breath. Of sanity. Of any resistance.

  When Theodore did it again, she quivered in obedient response.

  Captured and held prisoner on the precipice of something dangerously, wondrously addictive.

  “Theo…” His name escaped her in a helpless, keening cry of pleasure. An answering low growl of satisfaction emanated from Theodore.

  BOOM!

  It’s my heart. Exploding. Can Theodore hear it? He must, for it’s so loud… like thunder.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  “Lady Lauren? Are you there? I must speak with you at once. It is imperative.”

  A man’s voice penetrated Lauren’s haze of desire, punctuated by someone’s fists pounding the door to her rooms. The swelling inside her caught and held, trembling, waiting to be pushed over the edge or allowed to recede. It only needed another thrust of Theodore’s fingers, a bite from his sharp teeth, and she’d be flung over the stars and back. Flying without wings.

  “What the bloody hell…” Theodore hissed. Lifting his head, he glared in the direction of the door then back to Lauren. His fingers remained curled inside her but had gone motionless now. “Goddamn Sanderson. I will murder the fool before all is said and done.”

  “Sanderson?” Lauren repeated, blinking rather stupidly.

  “Indeed, my dear.” Theodore’s eyes held a devilish glint. “He’s determined to court you, it seems. Shall I allow him to enter? Or should I stay otherwise engaged?” His fingers flexed experimentally, and Lauren melted with a gasp. But the delight was short-lived. He was already withdrawing from her. Rolling from the bed, he stood beside it and gave her a fierce frown.

  “Lady Lauren? I know you are there…” Sanderson’s insistent voice sliced the air between them. He knocked again, three sharp raps.

  “It is men like him your father wished to shield you against.” Theodore waved a hand toward the door. “Brash, unthinking, selfish, greedy.”

  “As were you,” Lauren said, sitting up and drawing the tattered edges of her clothing together. The robe, still intact but just as flimsy and delicate as the nightdress, was hurriedly wrapped tightly around her body. “Yet, my father handed me over without a moment’s hesitation.”

  Theodore’s eyes narrowed, his gaze almost silver in the shadows. “Yes. He did, and I accepted that gift and responsibility.”

  “Lady Lauren?” Sanderson sounded almost plaintive. “I’m merely checking on your wellbeing.”

  Ignoring the man on the other side of the thick, wooden door, Lauren rose up on her knees upon the mattress. Rather shakily, she reached for Theodore’s hand. “What would you do differently now? If given the chance?”

  Theodore swallowed hard. His eyes pinned her, gleaming in the shadows of the room. “It’s a conversation for another time.”

  Lauren rubbed her thumb over the back of Theodore’s hand. “My father had much to do with my state of unhappiness, I’m afraid. I am only now discovering it is impossible to lay everything at your feet.” Looking up, she saw an expression of heartbreak mar his features. She wanted to fold him into her arms. Forgive him for the many nights she cried, her heart breaking because she thought he’d meant to use her.

  “You may place anything you desire into my care, Lauren. Even yourself.” Theodore breathed. “I will always handle you as though you are crafted of the finest porcelain. Do you not understand yet that you are my most precious treasure?”

  Sanderson pounded again and incredibly, tried the doorknob. It jiggled with a soft clinking sound as the lock was tested.

  “I thought I might keep you company, my dear,” the man declared, his voice muffled by the oak door. “Or I could be of assistance in massaging your temples should your headache still persist. I’m quite good with my hands. Won’t you let me in?”

  Theodore gave Lauren a look filled with astonished fury. “I will break every bone in his body if he dares touch you.”

  Lauren grimaced, bounding off the bed before he could stop her. “That’s hardly a sentiment in keeping with the Christmas spirit, Theo,” she exclaimed over her shoulder while moving toward the door. “One moment, while I make matters clear to Lord Sanderson.”

  “Lauren, don’t open that door.”

  In response, she stuck her tongue out then sidestepped him with a giggle when he lunged for her. Gues
sing he might make a second attempt, she dashed across the room, nimbly evading capture while Theodore swore under his breath.

  She flung open the door. With a scant second to spare, Theodore removed himself from Sanderson’s line of sight, his hands and teeth clenched, ready to tear the other gentleman limb from limb.

  Sanderson noticeably gulped at the vision of loveliness before him. For a long moment, it seemed he could not speak. His gaze roamed over Lauren, taking in the wealth of unbound hair, her flushed cheeks, and the mussed condition of her garments.

  Lauren’s eyebrow arched in what she hoped was a haughty expression of displeasure. “You disturb my rest, sir.”

  “I—uh—I hoped to assist,” he stuttered. His eyes fixed on her bosom, partly exposed where the robe gaped. The gown beneath and its ragged edges, torn by Theodore’s eager hands, peeked through.

  Abruptly mindful of her scandalous appearance, Lauren frowned and gripped the flimsy robe closer to her chest. Perhaps she should have considered this before confronting the very persistent Sanderson.

  “It is completely unnecessary. Please do not bother yourself on my behalf any further.” She made to close the door. “Goodnight.”

  Shaking himself from his trance, Sanderson grabbed the edge of the door with his hand. His foot wedged in the opening. “It would be of mutual benefit, I assure you. And pleasure.”

  A strangled growl emanated from somewhere deeper in the room.

  Lauren covered the unmistakable sound with a clearing of her throat. “You flatter me; however, this behavior is the height of impropriety, Lord Sanderson. You must go.”

  “But I…” Inexplicably, his sentence trailed off.

  Lauren puzzled over that until it became glaringly apparent. A jolt of horror rocked her. Sanderson had spied the gentleman’s coat tossed haphazardly over the chair. His gaze fixed upon it.

  Stunned silence ruled for a moment. Lauren held her breath for what felt like an eternity before Sanderson eased his foot away. “Do forgive me, Lady Lauren. It is my wish you are feeling much improved tomorrow.” Removing his hand from the door’s edge, he gave a stiff bow.