Rachel slid slowly down Gray’s legs and back to her kneeling position between his thighs, looking up at him from between lowered lashes as she once again took that slick and swollen crown into her mouth.
His pre-cum tasted both salty and sweet at the same time, mixed in with an elusive male musk that was all Gray. Rachel had no doubt the combination could become addictive.
She was making love to Gray!
And from the groans he was making, the flush to his cheeks, the pulsing of his cock inside her mouth, and the way his fingers had become entangled in her hair, he was enjoying her ministrations as much as she was in giving them.
Because Rachel was also fully aroused. Her breasts were full and aching, the nipples swollen, and between her thighs was wet from where her juices escaped her pussy lips and dripped down her thighs.
She had no doubt she would find her release without a single physical stimulation the moment Gray found his.
She lifted her mouth from his cock, keeping the fingers of one hand about that pulsing length as she lifted her other hand and placed her index finger against his chiseled lips. “Open and suck,” she encouraged.
He tensed. “Rachel…?”
“Please.” Her smile was encouraging.
Gray swallowed, not at all sure where Rachel was going with this.
Her finger plucked at his bottom lip. “Please.”
He parted his lips to allow her finger entrance. How could Gray refuse her when she pleaded so prettily? He couldn’t, doubted in that moment he could refuse Rachel anything that she asked of him.
“Suck,” she reminded, her gaze continuing to hold his as she wiggled that finger inside his mouth.
Gray couldn’t break free from those compelling eyes as he sucked and used the curl and stroke of his tongue to lick and suckle her finger as if it was her elongated nipple in his mouth.
Rachel’s breasts rose and fell in shallow breaths. She watched her glistening finger as she slowly pulled it from between Gray’s parted lips to move her hand down between his legs. “Sprawl farther down the chair,” she encouraged before swallowing the mushroomed cap of his cock to the back of her throat. Her hand cupped and fondled the heavy weight of his balls before stroking along that sensitive stretch of skin behind them, and then back farther still.
Gray frowned his uncertainty. “Rachel? Dear God, Rachel!” he gasped as her wet finger breached the tight ring of muscle between his bottom cheeks and slowly—oh so agonizingly slowly—began to push through it and farther inside. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, only to give a startled cry and then a weak groan as Rachel’s finger brushed against something inside him that caused him to arch as an explosion of unimagined pleasure burst and radiated inside him.
Rachel continued to suck on Gray’s cock to the same rhythm as her finger stroked inside him, a look of pure ecstasy on her flushed face and reflected in her eyes as Gray began to push down, fucking himself on her thrusting finger.
He was so lost in that pleasure, he groaned a protest as that stroking finger was removed, only to arch upward as two fingers now breached him. They worked together to press against that pleasure spot inside him, and Gray lost all control. His cock throbbed and pulsed his hot cum down Rachel’s throat for long and timeless minutes until he was drained and unable to do more than groan softly as her fingers slid from inside him.
He remained in boneless euphoria and watched through heavy lids as Rachel’s lips parted to release his deflating cock, giving another shudder of pleasure as her tongue gave a lingering lick over the red and glistening tip.
She released him completely to sit back on her heels. “Was it too much?” She looked at him searchingly. “Did I shock you by going too far?” Her movements were nervous as she refastened his pantaloons.
Gray hated that uncertainty on her face. “It was incredible.” He leaned forward to grasp her wrists and pull her up until she sat sideways on his thighs. “You are incredible.” He stared at her in wonder.
It had taken Gray a year or two after he was disinherited to get his life back on track. But then he had learned to use his father’s teachings along with his natural ability for all the work on an estate. This had allowed him to slowly move up the rank from manual laborer as he carefully picked and chose to work on estates where he would not be recognized for who he had once been.
He had not gone without female company during those years, sometimes bedding women who also worked on the estate, sometimes with local ladies who were intrigued to bed someone they believed to be of the lower class.
He had also spent several years in the army, as had many gentlemen his age, and there had always been a woman or two eager to comfort the soldiers before or after a battle.
So Gray was no novice to having sexual encounters with a variety of women, and of all ages. But this time with Rachel, a young and virginal lady of the aristocracy, was without doubt the most erotic and satisfying lovemaking of his life.
He turned his head and kissed the delicate heat of the side of her neck. “Did you enjoy that?” he prompted huskily.
“Oh yes,” she confirmed without hesitation. “It was so much more than I had ever imagined.”
“How did you know to…do what you did?”
Rachel gave an embarrassed groan and buried her face against his neck. “We were told at school that there is an organ inside a man there which causes him great physical arousal and gives him great pleasure.”
“I am five and thirty, and yet I never knew it existed before today…”
“But did you like it?”
“I have never experienced anything like it.” Gray settled her more comfortably on his thighs, his arms about her waist. “But you did not— Rachel?” He looked at her curiously as she gave another little cry and burrowed her blushing face deeper against his throat. “Did you come already?”
“I could not help myself.” The heat in her cheeks deepened. “It was all just so arousing. Touching you. Caressing you. Tasting you.” She gave a delicate quiver. “Does the cum of all gentlemen taste as delicious as yours?”
Gray’s body tensed beneath her thighs. “I have no idea, never having sucked another man’s cock to release,” he rasped. “But perhaps one day you will do so in order to make a learned comparison?”
Rachel pulled back slightly so she could see the expression on Gray’s face. His scowl was both stern and unhappy. “I only asked out of curiosity,” she hurried to explain. “And not because I wish to suck another man’s cock at all. It is only— No doubt, one day I will do so, when I am married. But we do not need to talk about that now,” she rushed as Gray’s expression became colder still.
“I believe you just did,” he snapped.
“Gray!” she squeaked in protest as he put her from him, ensuring she was standing on her own two feet before he rose beside her. Tears stung her eyes as she looked up at his cold and uncompromising expression. “I did not mean to upset you or make you feel jealous—”
“I am not in the least jealous of some imagined gentleman you may or may not marry in the future!” Gray thundered. “Nor do I wish to know if or when you intend to suck another man’s cock in the way you did mine.” His expression was one of disgust as he lifted one of the wineglasses and threw its contents to the back of his throat. His angry gaze remained fixed on her as he refilled the glass before drinking it as quickly and then slamming the empty glass down on the table. “I think it is time you left, Rachel.”
Rachel blinked the moisture from her eyes, uncaring of the hot tears that now fell silently down her cheeks. Gray had the appearance of a cold and unapproachable statue.
She put out a beseeching hand. “Please, we cannot part like this—”
“How else should we part?” he scorned. “You knew, I warned you from the beginning, that whatever we did together it could never lead to anything more, and you insisted you were content with that. I have nothing more than this to give.” His hands were clenched at his sides. “Pleas
e leave.” This time, it was an order rather than a suggestion.
“Gray—”
“Do not come to my cottage alone again,” he added icily. “I shall be leaving the area in any case, once Lord Stone returns from his honeymoon in six days’ time.”
Rachel felt the color drain from her cheeks. “You do not have to leave because of me.”
He gave a hard and uncompromising smile. “I advise you not to give yourself an importance which does not now nor will ever exist,” he bit out coldly as he looked down the length of his nose at her. “Circumstances have…occurred, which have absolutely nothing to do with you, that require I leave the area as soon as Lord Stone returns.”
For Gray to be so verbally cutting to her, after the intimacies they had just shared, was particularly devastating.
In fact, Rachel’s heart felt as if it had shattered in her chest, rendering her momentarily speechless as well as breathless.
Gray’s rejection of her had brought home to her exactly how deeply her emotions were engaged.
She was in love with Grayson Long.
Deeply, irrevocably in love with Gray.
Quite when it had happened, Rachel had no idea. Only that it had.
And he had just shattered her heart along with any hopes she might have harbored of them ever being able to be together in future.
Deliberately?
In all probability, yes.
Because he did not feel the same depth of emotion for her.
Nor, he had made it clear, would he ever do so.
Rachel bit back a choked cry, knowing she could not remain here and continue to humiliate herself in this way now that Gray had made it so apparent that not only he did not want her to come to him again, but confirmed he would also be leaving the area as soon as he was able after the newly married couple returned from their honeymoon.
She was the one who had made a fool of herself. Gray had warned her, told her how it would and must be between them. There could now be no recriminations from her, because it had transpired in exactly the way he had said it would.
Rachel turned away to go to the kitchen and gather her cloak, bonnet, and gloves. “I shall leave you in peace to enjoy the rest of your evening,” she spoke stiffly when she returned, not quite able to bring her tear-wet gaze up to meet his. “Hopefully, the snow will have cleared, ensuring you will have a safe journey when the time comes for you to leave. I wish you well in the future.”
“Allow me to accompany you home—”
“No.” Her tone allowed no room for argument. “This is my place. I was born here, and have lived here all my life.” No doubt she would die here too.
Because, knowing she had fallen in love with Gray, Rachel could not see herself ever marrying anyone else. If she did, then it would not be for a very long time and could only ever be second best. Her heart was set on Gray, and she could not have him.
“Goodbye, Gray.” She turned with a swish of her skirts and left the warmth of the sitting room, head held high, those threatening tears kept in check.
“Rachel!”
She ignored Gray when he called out to her, unlocking the door and continuing out of the cottage and closing that door behind her before drawing in a much-needed and reviving breath of the cold evening air.
She had forced this meeting upon Gray.
Was responsible for having forced him into all their private meetings.
She would not do so again.
Chapter Nine
“I admit to being skeptical when I was told of your whereabouts, but it would seem that my informant was correct.”
Gray had seen the carriage parked in the clearing outside his cottage when he rode up in darkness after a hard day working on the estate. Instead of going to greet his visitor, he had decided his horse was as tired as he was, and he had seen to the unsaddling and stabling of the stallion before approaching the front of the cottage.
He didn’t recognize the black shiny carriage, nor, now she had spoken, did he know the voice of the woman seated inside it. A woman he couldn’t see clearly, merely the profile of her face hidden beneath the rim of her bonnet in the light given off by the lamp inside the carriage.
Whoever she was, Gray did not welcome her visit here, nor indeed anyone else’s.
It had been six days since he and Rachel had been intimate together and then she had left him so abruptly. Seemingly endless days and nights when Gray had gone through the motions of eating a hurried breakfast and then going about his working day on the estate. He returned to his cottage as late in the evenings as he possibly could, exhausted from working such long hours, but loath to spend any more time there than need be.
He could no longer be at the cottage without thinking of Rachel. Without breathing in the lingering essence of her perfume and that of their mutual arousal. He went to his bed each night and relived every kiss and caress until he thought he might go mad from those thoughts going round and round inside his head. Even taking his own cock in hand and thinking of their time together, bringing himself to release, did nothing to quell the deep need inside him.
For Rachel.
Her smile. Her touch. Her caress. Her love.
He hungered for her love more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life.
He had not set eyes on nor heard so much as a word spoken of Rachel since that night. The omission left Gray feeling hollow inside and every part of him aching. As if he were coming down with a cold or the influenza when what he really suffered from was this deep-seated and unquenched hunger for Rachel.
He wanted peace and solitude but now had to deal with this strange woman in the carriage outside his cottage before he could have that.
“I believe you must be lost, madam.” He paused on the cottage pathway to answer the woman. “If you care to tell me who you are looking for, I can tell your driver in which direction to go.” Being so close to the Christmas season, this lady was no doubt intending to visit with a relative in the area for the holiday.
She gave an inelegant snort. “I am looking for you, of course.”
Gray’s brows rose. “I believe you are mistaken, madam. Perhaps you are looking for Lord Stone, the owner of this estate? He is away on his honeymoon at present, but I am expecting his return in a day or so.”
“How amusing that you do not recognize me.” She gave a hard and mirthless laugh. “When you, unfortunately”—her voice hardened—“are all too familiar to me.”
Gray straightened, his forehead creased into a frown at the intended insult. “Then you have me at a disadvantage, madam.” He watched warily as the coachman, seemingly at some signal from the carriage’s occupant, grasped hold of the lamp beside him before jumping down to open the carriage door with a flourish.
The woman used the light from the lamp to make the two steps to the ground before straightening. As far as Gray could see, she was of average height, her figure hidden by a voluminous cloak, several dark curls peeping out from beneath the brim of her bonnet. The lines beside her eyes and mouth said she was not a young woman, nor a particularly beautiful one, but there was a steely determination to her expression that warned few to dare to cross her.
There was something vaguely familiar about her, but Gray could not pinpoint quite what that familiarity was—
Gray gave a soft gasp as the woman raised her head and he was at last able to see her face more clearly.
Dear God!
Gray’s chest tightened, making it hard for him to breathe, and he could also literally feel the blood draining from his face. All he could do was stand there and stare at the woman, who, along with her son, had brought Gray’s world crashing down around him seventeen years ago.
Margarita Carlotta Isabella Longborne.
The Dowager Duchess of Ashborne.
The legal wife of Gray’s father.
As her son, two years older than Gray, had been and continued to be the legal heir of the title the Duke of Ashborne.
Gray’s jaw clenched.
“What are you doing here, madam?” he demanded coldly.
She glared at him with cold, dark eyes. “Whatever it is, I have no intention of standing out here in the dark and the cold to discuss it. Nor will I do so in front of servants. Excusing yourself, of course,” she added with a scathing glance at his working clothes.
Gray refused to flinch at the barb. “And if I do not wish to speak with you?”
“Then you will never learn why I came here,” she taunted.
It seemed that Gray’s options were limited to inviting this woman inside his cottage or to instruct her to leave.
He had no idea why the dowager duchess would have sought him out in this way, let alone go to the bother of coming to Stone Manor in person so that she might speak with him.
Not that Gray had any desire to speak with her. But if he asked her to leave, then she was perfectly correct in that he would never know the answer to why she had come here.
He had never liked this woman. Not just because she had a hand in disinheriting him and then in the early demise of his mother, but because she reminded him of a witch, with her dark hair and even sharper dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
Those black eyes now mocked him. “Am I to go or stay?”
It was so close to the same question Gray had asked Rachel just days ago that, for a moment, it caused a jolt in his chest.
He drew a deep and controlling breath. It did him no good to think of Rachel. Especially now, when he would need all his wits about him to get through the meeting with this woman. “You have managed very well in losing your accented English since last we spoke.”
Her mouth thinned. “And you seem to have forgotten your manners and the place you now hold in the world,” she snapped. “But then, I suppose breeding—or a lack of it—will out,” she added with scathing disdain.
“Indeed,” Gray drawled pointedly.
Her eyes narrowed in warning. “Am I to go or stay?” she repeated in a hard voice.
Scandal: Regency Lovers 6 Page 7
