Gray should say no.
His head said so.
His conscience said so.
His moral code said so.
Why the hell couldn’t his heart and emotions, along with his rebellious cock, agree with that decision?
“Gray?”
He breathed out slowly, knowing his self-control was nowhere near strong enough to continue resisting this beautiful and amazing young woman. “Very well. I shall expect you at my cottage tomorrow at three thirty. But Rachel…” His tone became a warning as she smiled her triumph. “I again reiterate, we shall do nothing during your visit that might ruin your reputation or chances of an advantageous marriage.”
Her smile remained confident. “Then thank goodness my time at the duchess’s school ensured that I know lots of ways we might pleasure each other without risk of either of those things.”
Gray should have known that would be her answer!
Chapter Seven
There was absolutely no reason for Rachel to have to pretend to have a chill the following day, when she only had to think of her planned meeting with Gray later today for her cheeks to flush and her eyes to gleam too brightly.
In fact, her symptoms of anticipation and arousal appeared so similar to those of the chill she was claiming she had that her mother had hesitated to leave Rachel alone for the afternoon. Rachel insisted her mother must go when all she intended to do was sleep anyway.
It was a little after three o’clock when Rachel’s parents and her aunt and uncle set out aboard the carriage that had been adapted to serve as a sleigh for such times as these. It had ceased snowing during the night, but the carpet of white remained on the ground from yesterday. Several lamps were lit along the sides of the sleigh to add to its appearance of festive warmth. There were boxes of food and drinks for the adult tenants, and presents and clothes for their children, piled high inside the carriage with the two smiling couples.
Previous years, Rachel would have accompanied them and enjoyed doing so immensely. But Gray, and the thought of the few hours they would spend alone together in the privacy of his cottage, was a far more exciting prospect.
In truth, Rachel had spent part of the day fretting that Gray would find some way to let her know she was not to visit his cottage today after all. Quite how he would go about doing that, she had no idea, perhaps by having a letter delivered to her surreptitiously by one of her parents’ maids or footmen. When no such note had arrived by three o’clock, Rachel lost no time in requesting her maid draw the curtains before then dismissing her, with the assurance Rachel intended to sleep for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
For authenticity’s sake, she positioned two pillows in her bed to make it look as if she was happily buried beneath the bedcovers. After that, it was a case of dressing in warm clothing before moving stealthily down the servants’ stairs and out through a door at the back of the house.
It was only after she had crept into the stables, saddled Snowball, and was safely on her way to Gray’s cottage without mishap that Rachel realized the full extent of what she was about to do.
Oh, not the being alone with Gray in his cottage; that she was perfectly happy about. And anything that came after.
But she was also the one, after their time together at the church yesterday had been interrupted, who had pursued Gray relentlessly by insisting he dance with her at the wedding and then inviting herself to his cottage today. All while making no attempt to hide the fact that she intended them to continue from where they had left off in the church.
What if she had forced Gray into this second liaison and he would really rather there had not been a first one?
By the time Snowball had trudged through the snow to the picturesque cottage sitting in the clearing surrounded by trees, which, for the moment, Gray called home, but according to Lord Stone might shortly cease to do so, Rachel’s nerves were as taut as a bow string. She was half-inclined to turn her horse around and ride back to Banford Manor as if the devil himself were chasing her.
“Are you staying or going?”
Rachel quickly raised her head to look at Gray standing in the open doorway of his cottage. She had been so deep in thought, she hadn’t noticed the opening of the wooden door.
Gray’s hair was ruffled, and he was dressed only in a billowy white shirt tucked into the waist of beige pantaloons that clung to his muscular thighs and were tucked into highly polished boots.
He looked relaxed, like a gentleman who minutes ago had been seated beside a warm fire, possibly sipping brandy from a suitable glass that would glitter and gleam in the fire’s glow. Or perhaps a glass of the wine Rachel had suggested?
“Well?” He quirked a brow. “Staying or going?”
Rachel turned away to slide down from her horse and hide the warmth of the blush in her cheeks. “I am staying, of course.” She faced him, her chin raised in challenge.
Gray half lowered his lids in the hope of shielding some of the admiration he felt for this young and utterly fearless woman.
He had waited, in vain, for Rachel to send him a note to excuse herself from today’s visit. Damn it, he had prayed she would do so. Because those painful balls he had suffered with all night and all of today meant he had no defenses left to do so himself or to resist if the two of them were alone in his cottage.
The previous night, he had tried stroking himself to completion thinking of Rachel in bed. But ten minutes after he had spilled, his cock had once again been hard and pulsing. All his senses had been filled with the image, feel, and scent of Rachel’s arousal, and his mouth had grown hungry for her full and rosy-tipped breasts. His fingers had ached to stroke her to climax after climax so that he might lap up her delicious juices.
Gray had lost count of how many times he had stroked and pumped his cock last night until he released, enough that he had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep in the early hours of this morning. Only to wake with a cock as hard as steel and the taste of Rachel’s soft and creamy skin on his lips.
That taste had remained with him all day, never more so than an hour ago when he had lit the fire in his sitting room and pulled the curtains before placing a decanter of wine and two glasses on one of the side tables.
His expression softened now as he guessed that Rachel’s challenging gaze was nothing more than a flimsy barrier to her uncertainty as to whether or not Gray wanted her here.
He shouldn’t allow her to be here.
What he should do was tell her to go.
Last night, and again today, Gray had gone through all the reasons why this was a bad idea.
Rachel was so much younger than he.
For all her sensual maturity, she was a virgin.
She was also a member of the Society Gray could never again be a part of and which would shun her if they knew she had taken up with Lord Stone’s estate manager. The occupation was a little above that of gamekeeper or poacher, but not much, and was wholly unsuitable for the daughter of a lord and lady.
All these reasons were valid in their own right, but grouped together, they were onerous.
But none of them, together or singly, changed the fact that not only did Gray want desperately to make love to Rachel, but he also enjoyed her feisty and never boring company.
Which meant, much as he knew he should tell her to leave, he wasn’t about to do so.
Instead, he stepped out of the cottage and walked down the path to where she stood on the other side of the wall surrounding his tiny garden. He held her gaze as he took the reins from her gloved fingers before leading the mare to the sheltered lean-to at the side of the cottage. By the time Gray returned, he found Rachel hadn’t moved from where he’d left her.
He held out his hand for her to take, her lashes lowering and the blush in her cheeks deepening as she placed her fingers in his. “You do not have to do this, Rachel.”
Green eyes looked at him through the fringe of her lashes. “And if I want to?”
“Then nothing sh
all happen between us today you do not want to happen,” he repeated his assurance of yesterday.
She raised her head, the fullness of her lips curving into a smile. “I have so many things I wish to do to with and to you, I doubt we shall be able to cover all of them today.”
Now it was Gray’s turn to feel the heat of color in his cheeks. “There is always the possibility you will know more about lovemaking than I do.”
She laughed softly. “I somehow doubt that.”
Gray eyed her curiously as the two of them walked down the path to the cottage together. “What makes you say that?” he prompted as he closed and locked the door behind them. He led her down the narrow hallway to where he had a cheery fire burning in the small sitting room.
The furniture in here, two armchairs and a couch, were old and worn but also comfortable, and there was a small desk in the corner of the room that served as Gray’s office for when he worked on estate business in the evenings.
Rachel removed her cloak, bonnet, and gloves before placing them in Gray’s hands. “This is very cozy.” She stepped forward to warm her bare hands in front of the blazing fire.
It had taken Gray just a few seconds to return from setting her things to dry in front of the range in the kitchen. “It is exactly as you requested.”
Warmth colored her cheeks. “So it is.”
“You did not answer my question,” he reminded.
If the two of them were at a ball or any other Society event, Rachel would have avoided giving that answer by first fluttering her fan at him before giving him a flirtatious reply.
But instead, they were in the warm and homely sitting room of Gray’s cottage, the curtains drawn as she had suggested, along with the decanter of wine ready for them to drink.
It was not the time for avoidance or flirtation. “You are older than me—”
“Much older,” he acknowledged dryly.
Her brows rose as she continued. “And will have had far more…physical experience than I could ever hope to have achieved from merely being told what can take place between a man and a woman.”
“I did not notice any hesitation in your lovemaking yesterday. And ‘physical experience,’ Rachel?” He frowned.
Her gaze lowered. “I do not know how else to put it. Nor should you feel in the least awkward about it,” she hastened to add. “Goodness, if I was your age, I would hope I would have made love dozens of times!” She winced at the sound of Gray’s laughter. “I did not mean—”
“I know what you meant, love,” Gray assured wryly. “Does it bother you that I am aged five and thirty?”
Her expression brightened. “On the contrary, it means you will have all that extra experience to enhance our lovemaking.”
Gray chuckled at her candor. “There really has not been as much experience as you might expect.” He sobered. “And none at all in the last six months.”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “Is it wrong that I am pleased to hear that?”
Gray realized he didn’t just admire this young lady but felt a genuine affection for her. Perhaps more than an affection? If that was the case, then he must keep it to himself and not burden Rachel with his emotions, when she had the whole of her life to look forward to.
But neither could he forego what might be his only opportunity to be a part of her sensual awakening, at least. If it broke his heart when he eventually had to leave her, then that was his sorrow to bear, not hers.
“Not wrong at all.” He stepped forward to take her in his arms before gently claiming her lips with his own.
She tasted of apples and cinnamon, and her bare hands were warm as they caressed his shirt-covered back and the sexual tension rose between them.
They were both breathing hard by the time Gray raised his head enough to place his forehead against hers. “There has never been another woman in my life like you, Rachel,” he acknowledged.
She gave a soft and self-derisive laugh. “So openly brazen, you mean?”
“I believe I called you brave and determined.”
Her lips quirked. “But we both know I am brazen too.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
She chuckled. “No.”
Gray nodded as he released her to step back. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”
Despite the outward appearance Rachel was hoping to give, she was inwardly nervous at being alone here with Gray. The inside of her mouth was dry, and her hands shook a little.
She gave a nod. “A small glass would be most welcome. But I must be back home ahead of my parents and aunt and uncle, who, as they have been invited out for dinner this evening with the local squire, will in all likelihood return by or shortly after six o’clock so that they might change and ready themselves for going out.” Rachel was aware that she was babbling, relating things that could be of absolutely no interest to Gray.
She had come here to return the pleasure of yesterday, not engage in idle chitchat.
Gray handed the glass of wine to her. “You will be pleased to hear, I am sure, that, the snow having ceased to fall, Lord and Lady Stone left the estate on time this morning.”
It seemed strange to hear her cousin Clara referred to so formally, but as that was who she was now, Rachel, like everyone else, would have to get used to it. Clara was also the wife of Gray’s employer. “I am glad.” She sipped her wine. “Clara was so excited about traveling to The Lakes.”
“They are…an interesting couple.”
Rachel studied him curiously. “Clara can be very determined when she is set on something.”
“And she was set on Lord Stone.”
Rachel held Gray’s gaze as she placed her glass carefully down on the table. “As I am set on making love with you.” She stepped forward to gently but firmly place her hand in the center of his chest and push until Gray had no choice but to allow his knees to fold, and he dropped down into one of the armchairs. Rachel wasted no time in placing a cushion on the floor before kneeling on it at Gray’s feet and between his parted thighs. “To you.” She reached up to begin unfastening the buttons at the sides of his pantaloons.
Gray watched her from between narrowed lids as she folded down the front of his pantaloons allowed his engorged cock to spring free, revealing that he wasn’t wearing any undergarments.
“Oh my,” Rachel breathed in admiration as the fingers of one hand stroked and then encircled Gray’s cock, while the soft pad of the thumb on her other hand stroked across and spread the liquid bubbling up from the slit at the top. She spared him an excited smile. “This is most impressive.” She sucked her thumb into her mouth, licking it clean. “Delicious.”
“Good God, Rachel…” Gray’s groan was low in his throat as he found himself unable to look away from that tiny and slick thumb being sucked into Rachel’s mouth and her tongue swirling over every bump and contour as she licked it clear of his pre-cum.
He didn’t care how many years separated them, how unsuitable this was, Rachel was every inch a woman in this moment, and one who was determined to pleasure him until he exploded his release, either into her hand or mouth.
Chapter Eight
Gray slumped farther down in the chair as he threaded the fingers of both hands through the heavy gold of her hair. “Suck me, sweetness,” he encouraged gruffly. “Yes, just like that,” he groaned as those slightly red lips parted before his cock was sucked inside the heated cavern of Rachel’s mouth. “Dear God…” He groaned again as Rachel took his length to the back of her mouth before relaxing the muscles there and then taking him so much deeper, he could see the outline of his cock moving inside her throat as he pulled back and then pushed fully inside again.
Gray’s fingers tightened in her hair to hold her in place as he continued to push deep, lingering there to experience the tensing and relaxing of Rachel’s throat muscles, before slowly pulling back until only the bulbous head of his cock remained in her mouth.
He was so lost to that pleasure that it took s
everal minutes for him to realize that there were tears streaming down Rachel’s cheeks. Cheeks that were a bright red as she tried to suck his cock and breathe at the same time.
“No!” Gray used his hands in her hair to quickly pull her back until his cock fully left her mouth with a pop, allowing her to breathe once again. He pulled her up so that she was seated on his thighs with Gray’s arms wrapped around her, her head resting against his rapidly rising and falling chest. “Never let me do anything to hurt you again, Rachel,” he instructed with self-loathing. He chastised himself for the selfishness he had just displayed by thinking only of his own pleasure and not ensuring Rachel’s comfort too.
“It is my own fault,” she assured. “Your cock felt like hot velvet against my tongue and down my throat. So much better than the glass instruments we practice on at school. Your pre-cum also tasted so delicious that I became greedy.” She gave a self-conscious laugh at her own eagerness.
A stark reminder to Gray that no matter how self-possessed and self-assured this young lady gave the impression of being, she had never actually put any of the duchess’s teachings of lovemaking into practice.
But what teachings they were!
How many women even knew to call the viscous liquid leaking from the slit of his cock pre-cum? Or had practiced fellatio on a glass object so that she knew how to take his length fully down her throat, and then drove him to the brink time and time again without allowing him to fall over the edge into release?
Even when or if that lovemaking caused her discomfort.
Gray reached down to wipe the tears from Rachel’s cheeks. “I do not want—”
“Do not tell me to stop, Gray,” she warned softly without so much as raising her head even a little. “Do not be so cruel as to deny me the taste and feel of pleasuring you, as I have imagined doing so many times. I beseech you.”
When she put it like that… “Then you must go slowly. Taste, lick, and experiment all you wish, but do it slowly, so that you do not hurt yourself and we might enjoy this together.”
Scandal: Regency Lovers 6 Page 6
