The Kiss of a Rogue

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  That did not sound pleasant at all and once more, Abigail wondered about what she had gotten herself into. Her mother had often spoken frankly about sexual relations, but she had never mentioned pain. She shook her head. "I do not think so. Adam, I..."

  "Shhh." He kissed along the length of her collarbone, the silvery moonlight bathing his skin so that he all but shone before her. Like something not quite human. "Trust me, Abby. Please."

  She could feel his strong fingers undoing the laces on the back of her gown, loosening it so that he could suckle at her breasts. As he took one hard tip into his mouth, she groaned and arched into him. It seemed that she could not resist him after all. "I do trust you. It is just that..."

  He placed a finger to her lips as he continued to lave at her breasts, his other hand caressing her now-bare stomach. "Then no more talking. Just feel. I will make this good for you, my lady. Have no fear."

  Then his hands were on the breast where his mouth was not and Abby couldn't help but fall silent before another groan of pleasure tore from her throat. Each one of his touches was a revelation, each sweep of his tongue over her increasingly sensitive skin a wonder of feeling.

  At some point, Adam had managed to strip her completely of her gown, though Abigail did not know when that was. Instead, all she remembered was feeling his hands tracing the length of her body, his lips following close behind, nipping and suckling as he pleased, increasing this hot and achy feeling growing inside of her with each caress. He drew lazy circles on her body with his tongue and when he eased her gently back onto the bed, she felt the hot, hard press of his cock into her stomach, indicating that she was now just as naked as he. Even if she didn't remember when that had happened.

  She tried to speak again, but he silenced her with a quick kiss. "No thinking. No talking," he reminded her quickly. "Just feeling." Then he reached down to cup her intimately between her legs, and Abigail all but shattered where she lay as she keened her need for release, her body quaking and reaching for something she did not quite understand but wanted fiercely.

  The throbbing between her legs was more insistent now and Abigail thought she might lose her mind if she did not find release soon. Still, she craved even more sensation, wanton that she was.

  "There is my girl," Adam whispered as he kissed her jaw, the rough stubble of his late-day beard abrading her taut nipples and making them ache in a pain so pleasurable it almost drove her mad. "Relax, Abby. I have you. And I always will."

  When Adam's fingers parted her feminine folds, she all but shot up off the counterpane, but his soft words and sweet caresses coaxed her back until she was opening for him, spreading her legs wide and welcoming his touch as she moaned out her need for more. And touch her he did, with strong, thick fingers dipping inside of her womanly core, stroking and teasing her until she was quivering with desire and aching with true need. He thumbed her hidden pearl, teasing more passion from her than she could have ever imagined. All the while, his mouth nipped at her delicate skin, marking her as his and heightening her pleasure.

  She reached for his cock then, uncertain of what to do, but felt the need to do something to make him feel even half of what she was. When she found him hard and erect, she began to stroke him, using her fingertips to trace the thick veins that she could feel but not see. When she ran her thumb over the crown of him, she felt hot, sticky liquid leaking from his tip and she knew that she was giving him pleasure as well.

  Abigail stroked more of Adam, everywhere she could reach, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him this time. "Oh, Abby. What you do to me. I fear that I cannot wait much longer."

  "Then don't," she challenged him, her body on fire. "I need you, Adam. And I want you. Oh, how I want you."

  At her words, his fingers stroked her faster, teasing what had before been a gently building tide into a crashing ocean inside of her. She twisted and bucked her hips, reaching for something - anything - that might give her release.

  "Come for me, Abby," Adam coaxed as he nibbled on her earlobe. "Let go and just feel." He pressed his thumb hard into the most secret part of her. "Please. Do it for me."

  When he stroked her again, it was harder and deeper than before and instantly, Abby flew apart. She had not known she was capable of feeling such delicious and delightful sensations, but with each wave of pleasure that crashed over her, she craved more and she moaned, unable to articulate her desire.

  "That's okay, love. I've got you." Adam was over her now, pressing her legs farther apart so that he might settle himself between them, his body far larger than hers and far more powerful. Yet she trusted him not to hurt her, knew that he would be as gentle as possible. Which was why, when she felt the hot, blunt tip of him pressing at her entrance, she nodded.

  "I want you, Adam," she whispered, her voice deeper and throatier than it had ever been before.

  Adam knew that some men took their time easing inside a virgin, but, having bedded two virgins before, he knew that all it did was prolong a woman's fear and pain. He would not do that to his Abby.

  The moment she gave her permission, he thrust hard and fast, sheathing himself deep within her. She gave a short gasp of pain, but then it passed and she opened her eyes. They were still shining with passion. Just as they should be.

  "Make love to me, Adam," she commanded.

  He could do nothing other than obey.

  As he began to pull out of her, she whimpered, not understanding that he needed to move. Then, as he slid back inside of her warm, waiting body, realization dawned and she welcomed him deeper inside, her legs spread impossibly far. Adam took full advantage, sliding in deeper until he was fully seated inside of her, his base brushing against her sensitive core.

  Abigail gasped when she felt the intimate brush. "Oh, Adam..." Her words were like a prayer, and he took them as such, beginning to thrust, slowly at first and then harder until he found a rhythm they both enjoyed. Unlike other women he had been with, Abigail wasn't shy about her body or about the way he made her feel, bucking her hips up to meet his thrusts and tightening her feminine muscles around him instinctively. She was perfection incarnate and Adam knew he could never let her go. Not after this.

  Allowing her body's own desires to guide her movements, Abigail followed Adam's lead. With each thrust of his cock into her heated core, she craved more of him. She dug her fingernails into the hard muscles of his back, attempting to get closer to him, to feel him deeper, until she was no longer certain where she ended and he began.

  The powerful need for release that she had felt earlier now seemed like the merest light rain in comparison to the storm crashing inside of her now. She arched up, locking her legs around his waist.

  "Adam! Please!" she cried out and he responded by kissing her deeply, his hips thrusting in and out of her so fast that she felt as if she might catch fire where she lay.

  That magical, wonderful precipice loomed before her and she reached out to grab it, completely pushed over the edge when Adam reached between them and stroked her one last time.

  Abigail shattered and came with a scream that he swallowed with his kiss, her body bucking hard as she rode the waves of her release. Then, she felt him spill his hot seed inside of her with a hard groan, his mouth still devouring hers.

  As their passions cooled, Abigail had no idea how long they lay tangled together in the sheets. A few times, Adam made noises about leaving, but he never did and eventually, he reached for her again, this time teaching her a new way of making love with her on her hands and knees and him behind her. It was wanton and naughty, and she loved every single moment of the lesson in lovemaking.

  The night deepened around them and still they did not speak much but instead kept reaching for each other. Adam taught Abigail how to take him in her mouth and give him pleasure before rising up to pin her to the bed and take her again. He also showed her how to please herself and make herself ready for him. That particular time his cock swelled so much as he watched her that she was certain that it m
ust be painful for him.

  Neither of them truly slept but instead dozed as the clock slowly ticked away until morning and their inevitable parting. For they could not stay in this bed forever. As it was, they risked Adam being discovered and Abigail ruined they longer he remained. Even slipping out through the hidden passage might not be possible if a maid or Miss Cutwright barged in without knocking.

  But no one did. And as Adam lay curled on his side and Abigail assumed him to be asleep, she leaned over and kissed his bare shoulder, loving the feel of hard muscle beneath her lips.

  "I love you, Adam Reynolds," she whispered softly, not wishing to disturb him. "And I think I always will." Then she curled up next to him and while she did not sleep, for the first time in her life, she did dream of what the future could hold for her.

  Adam heard the words that Abigail had whispered, thinking him asleep. If he were truly a gentleman, he would have turned to her then and spoken the same words in return. But he had not. For in his heart, he was still something of a coward and he was terrified of revealing that much of himself - even to Abigail.

  What if he could not be the man she both needed and wanted? What if she changed her mind and returned to Plymouth to marry that arse Burleigh? What if he fell back into his old ways? He would hurt her, and he never wanted to do that.

  So for those reasons and many more, Adam pretended to sleep on, even though he had heard every word that Abigail uttered - even though he now believed that he felt them just as deeply as she did. The only difference was, she was stronger and braver than he could ever be. For she had spoken them aloud. And he could not bring himself to do so.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next two days all but flew by for Abigail. When she was not spending time with Adam, she was doing her best to placate Miss Cutwright. The morning after her magical night in Adam's arms, Abigail had come to breakfast only to be met by an overly-excited chaperone who had already been busy penning a letter back to Plymouth indicating that Abigail would be more than happy to wed the esteemed Mr. Burleigh.

  Except that Abigail wouldn't be wedding the man, and it had been almost beyond impossible to convince the older woman that Abigail had another plan - and another husband - in mind for her future. At first, Miss Cutwright had been horrified at the idea of Abigail refusing her parents' choice of a husband. After all, Abigail had been raised to be the dutiful daughter and this marriage would secure the financial future of Henry & Sons for many years to come. Perhaps even for generations to come.

  It had been difficult for Abigail to explain to the woman that she was not a part of Henry & Sons and that it should not be up to her to secure the company's future by marriage - even if that was typically the way of things. Abigail reminded Miss Cutwright that her family's company would survive even without the contract from Mr. Burleigh. When that did not sway her chaperone, Abigail had confessed that she had fallen in love with a peer and that she had hoped that the promise of a title would be enough to sway her parents to her way of thinking.

  When Miss Cutwright guessed that Adam was the man Abigail had fallen in love with, the chaperone had nearly been overcome by a fit of the vapors. Again. For she did that rather a lot, unfortunately. Until Abigail reminded Miss Cutwright that if - or rather hopefully when, for he had not actually proposed yet - she married Adam, she would become a duchess. Moreover, Adam was prepared to refuse Abigail's dowry in order to ease her father's financial situation. Abigail also added that with the duke's connections, especially now that he was in favor with Society once again, there might be more and better opportunities to expand his shipping business, rather than tying himself to one man who was little better than a bully who was simply trying to buy what he could not have any other way.

  After Abigail put it in those terms, Miss Cutwright was more than willing to listen to reason and had torn up the letter she was about to post to Abigail's mother. She also seemed all too happy to take the arm of Dr. Hastings when he arrived at the breakfast table to check on his patient, leaving Abigail free to sneak off so that she might seek out Adam.

  She had done just that and now, after two days of near constant time in each other's company, Abigail knew in her heart that Adam was the right man for her. There was a little niggling worry in the back of her mind that he might never come to love her as he claimed that he would. There was also the possibility that she was already carrying his child, for they had come together quite often in the last few days and they had never been careful to take precautions. Not even once, however foolish that made them. However she pushed both of those issues aside and once more clamped down on her runaway imagination. She was happy. She was with the man she loved. They would be married as soon as he could procure a special license - she hoped. Abigail refused to think of anything else beyond that, for she was not about to let anyone or anything spoil her happiness.

  Now as she sat before her mirror at her dressing table to prepare for the grand masquerade ball while Elsie fussed with her hair, Abigail wondered what came next. For tomorrow, the house party ended and the guests would return either to their homes or to the next party they were attending elsewhere. But what about her? After all, Adam had hinted at marriage, strongly in fact, but he had not yet officially offered for her as such.

  Could she go home? If she went back to Plymouth with just Miss Cutwright, would her family force her to wed Mr. Burleigh anyway and risk the wrath of a duke if he came for her, only to discover that she had been bound to another. Abigail did not want to think so, but her mother's latest letter, which had arrived only that morning, made it sound as if the situation was turning desperate. Burleigh had - wrongfully, of course - assumed that Abigail would be home by now, packing her trunks and departing Fairhaven the moment she received word that he wished to wed her.

  As if she would do anything so utterly foolish.

  Or would Adam accompany her back to Plymouth? He knew the risks if she returned home alone. If she was a member of the peerage or if her mother had been present at the house party? Then perhaps it would not be a concern. Yet it was. Then again, Adam also had his mother and his sister to worry about. While it was true that he had hired Lord Blackmore to watch over Sophia, it was only proper for Adam to escort his family home to Willowby Hill for the summer.

  For all that they had spoken about over the last few days, Abigail and Adam had not discussed the practicality of actually getting married. That, however, was likely the one thing they should have discussed before anything else.

  But they had not and now, Abigail wasn't certain they would have the opportunity to do so. Especially as Adam still had yet to actually ask her to marry him. Which was worrisome in its own way. After all, there would be plenty of women vying for Adam's attention this evening, and the half domino mask that he was likely to be wearing would do little to disguise his handsome face. Adam had become exceedingly popular over the course of the last several days, ever since the day of the Fairhaven Cup Relay, and Abigail thought she might have a bit of a difficult time vying for his attention.

  Then she blushed, remembering all of the attention Adam had lavished on her naked body a few nights ago, as well as the way he had suckled at her breasts just that very morning after another walk in Enwright's delightful labyrinth. Before he had taken her on one of the conveniently located benches, of course. Perhaps Abigail would not have difficulty attracting his attention after all.

  Abigail had also made certain that Adam knew how she would be dressed this evening. Given her height and ample bosom and curves, it would be difficult for him to mistake her, but she wanted to be certain - just in case. Since she was so close to having the future she had always dreamed of with a man she loved, she did not wish to leave anything to chance.

  Now, Abigail was dressed in the lovely amethyst silk gown with golden lace and netting that Madame LaVallier had crafted just for her before she had left London. It dipped scandalously low in the back, so low that she could not wear a corset - which she thankful did not ye
t truly need - the boning stitched into the gown holding up her breasts so they all but spilled out of her bodice - just as Madame LaVallier had intended, of course. The bodice itself was scandalously low as well, and embroidered with thousands of gold and purple crystals that caught and reflected the light each time she moved. The rich jewel tones of the gown set of Abigail's thick, mink colored hair while the golden accents reflected the golden whiskey hues in her eyes. Or so she had been told.

  All she knew was that she wished to be pretty for Adam. She wanted to look nice for herself, of course. She was not so weak of a woman as all of that, but when Adam gazed at her tonight, she wanted to see all of his passion and desire for her flaring in his eyes. She wanted to see them warm with desire for her - and no one else.

  "If you don't mind me sayin' so, me lady, you look right fine." Even after all of this time in Abigail's employ, Elsie had never quite lost her rough, country way of speaking. "I'm just thankful that Miss Cutwright wanted to go meet that nice doctor gentleman so early, so what I could spend more time on your hair. Wants it to look perfect for your young man, I do."

  "Thank you, Elsie." Abigail smiled at her maid in the mirror. "I am certain he will think me lovely no matter what."

  Even though she spoke the words with confidence, there was a part of Abigail that still wondered if Adam would think her too overly done in her gown. She'd chosen a diamond necklace and earbob set that her father had brought her back from India years ago to accent her gown. Over her evening gloves, she had added her grandmother's oversized amethyst and topaz bracelet. It had been a gift to the woman Abigail had never known from an admiring suitor attempting to court her favor and was just ostentatious enough to be remarked upon. Which was, of course, the evening's goal.

  Tonight, everything was bigger and brighter, more risqué and dangerous than any other evening at the house party so far. Tonight was meant to be about seduction, about stepping out of the roles society defined for lords and ladies as a whole, so that they might flirt and give in just a bit - or more, if they were daring enough - to their baser natures. It was about letting go of inhibitions. It was also a night of secrets, for each guest was sworn not to tell a soul about what sorts of indiscretions they witnessed in the ballroom - lest they bring down the wrath of the Devil Duke upon their heads.