He tore his mouth from hers, leaving her breathless and aching for more. “Open for me.”
Even though she wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, there was something completely erotic in his command. He didn’t wait for her to comply, but gripped her thighs punishingly and pushed her legs farther apart. Instinctively she wrapped around him, her arms and legs grasping onto his muscled frame. Something was completely erotic in the way his warm breath whispered against her skin as he pressed his mouth to her delicate jawline and lower, to the sensitive skin of her neck. The entire world vanished, and only she and Gideon remained.
“God, you taste so good,” he whispered.
She didn’t understand these new sensations and didn’t care. She only wanted more. When he reached her breasts, Elizabeth arched her back, panting. This was desire, pure and pulsing. She realized, with a start, that she actually wanted him. Somehow, at some point, her cold panic had been replaced with a burning need.
His hand traveled down her flat stomach toward the soft mound between her thighs. She didn’t have time to be embarrassed. As his fingers slipped between the damp folds, his mouth found the hardened nipple of her right breast. Lightning shot through her body. Her senses enflamed, her nerve endings sparking with desire. It was too much.
Elizabeth’s eyes flew open, her gasp of surprise lingering in the air. Lord, she’d never experienced anything like it before. Every inch of her body felt so utterly sensitive that even the air in the room was too much.
“Is this what you want?” he demanded, his fingers caressing her breast.
“Y-yes.”
He smirked down at her. “Say please.”
How she wanted to hate him, to slap his arrogant face. Instead, she gripped his shoulders tightly and growled, “Please.”
It was apparently the only encouragement he needed. She felt the tip of his erection pressed to her entrance, and for a brief moment panic overwhelmed her need. Any hint of the gentleman who had saved her from Mr. Frond was gone as he lifted his hips and surged fully into her body. In one thrust he had taken her. Every hard inch of him throbbed deeply within. Elizabeth bit her lower lip to keep from crying out.
“God, you’re tight,” he said through gritted teeth. “So damn hot and wet.”
Elizabeth was barely aware of his words, too overcome with the stinging pain his fullness brought. She didn’t dare move, afraid that the pain would flare and spread, only growing worse. She knew it would hurt, but she hadn’t expected this. His weight and heat no longer felt comforting.
She felt trapped, consumed. The length of him pressed up inside her, anchoring her body to his when all she wanted to do was escape his presence. He was large, too damn large. Elizabeth had the intense desire to move, to surge upward, to push him away, to do something!
For a long, long moment neither of them moved, their harsh breathing the only sound that peppered the air. It was over, she had seduced Gideon. She flattened her hands to his sleek back. Or he had seduced her, she wasn’t quite sure of the specifics. The only thing she knew was that she had gotten what she’d come for. Thank God, it was over. Why, then, didn’t he bloody well get off her?
Then he began to move, slowly at first, and any urge to push him away fled. Pain mixed with desire. “Gideon,” she started hesitantly.
She wanted to slap his broad back and tell him to stop, but the demand got lost in her whimper. Elizabeth shifted, arching her hips and closing her eyes, unsure if she liked this new sensation or not. Apparently, he was not done after all. As the aching pain turned to aching pleasure, a soft moan slipped from her lips.
“Shhh,” Gideon whispered. “Relax.”
Because she could do nothing else, she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. Trust. She’d have to trust him when all she really wanted to do was run as far away as possible from the man and his cold, soulless eyes and his warm, wonderful body.
He gripped her bottom, and when he lifted his hips and surged into her again, worries and pain were all but forgotten. Her entire body burned with a need she didn’t understand. That ache between her legs tightened, her skin tingling, her hips lifted, meeting him as he thrust into her again and again.
Her heart thundered madly, and her brain no longer functioned as instinct took over. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from him. The intensity of his gaze, the harshness of his breath, the way his hands grasped her bottom…Elizabeth felt as if he’d branded her in some way. She reveled in the taste of his mouth, the feel of his sleek skin against her, the pulse of his cock sliding deep within.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his gaze fierce. “Come for me.”
And because he was in charge, her body obeyed. The tightness between her legs exploded into a burst of white-hot stars that sent her spiraling toward to heaven. The entire room disappeared as she floated on a wave of pure bliss. Gideon melted into her, she into him. They were no longer two separate beings.
She felt Gideon shiver, heard his groan, and suddenly he was gone, pulling out of her body. His absence brought her quickly back to earth. The bed felt suddenly cold, her body damp with her sweat and his. A haze of confusion surrounded her. She wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. Gideon lay beside her, breathing harshly as he stared at the dark beams of the ceiling. How she wished she could read his thoughts. Or maybe she didn’t want to know. He hadn’t come inside her but had spilled his seed into a cloth he’d somehow grabbed. Blushing with embarrassment, Elizabeth looked away.
So that’s why men and woman were intimate. It all suddenly made sense. Drowsy and confused, she didn’t dare stir, not even when he sat up and moved across the room, picking up a clean washing cloth. Her body no longer felt her own. He was back and leaning over her before she could realize his intention.
Elizabeth stiffened. “What…”
In a no-nonsense manner, he swiped her thighs clean. When his hand traveled up her legs and the cold, wet cloth touched her throbbing folds, she couldn’t prevent the moan from slipping from her lips.
He didn’t respond to her obvious reaction but merely tossed the washing cloth to the tub and laid back, his hands stacked under his head, merely a gent relaxing.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You paid me, there’s no need for a thanks.”
He was cold, the man who had stroked her so gently gone. His words made her cringe, but she pushed the regret aside. It hadn’t been what men wrote poetry about. No, it had been animalistic, sinful. But it was done, and she was relieved and she owed him so much more than he realized. Elizabeth rolled onto her side, her back to Gideon.
She had to remind herself that everything was coming together rather well indeed.
Now, if only she could do the impossible and make Gideon fall in love with her.
Chapter 6
He was a bastard, an arrogant bastard who was concerned with no one but himself. It was the truth, and it was no secret, for he’d readily admit it to anyone who asked. He’d worn it like a badge of honor. It was how he had been for over fourteen years now, how he’d always thought he would be. How he wanted to be, how needed to be.
Yet, as he sat in the hired carriage across from Elizabeth, he felt an unfamiliar, incredibly uncomfortable feeling that he hadn’t experienced in some time. A feeling he thought long dead. A feeling he didn’t care for at all.
Guilt.
Even as he told himself to ignore her, Gideon’s gaze was drawn to Elizabeth. He couldn’t help but notice that she looked pale, almost small as she sat curled across from him in the corner of the carriage, her attention pinned to the scenery outside. A place of rolling green hills and brilliant blue skies. A world so close to the Irish Sea that he could practically taste freedom. But instead of thinking about escape, he was thinking about her. Even with the smudges of exhaustion underneath her eyes, the worn dress from a serving wench covering her body, she was beautiful.
A cool morning breeze fluttered the curtains. His clothing was
still damp, the serving wench having been unable to find shirtsleeves and trousers in his size. But he didn’t mind the chill material, for his heated body would dry them soon enough, and blast it all but he seemed afire since that first kiss in Lady Lavender’s parlor. Not even last night had sated his need.
“Are you cold?” The words left his mouth before he’d had a chance to rein them in. She looked as startled as he felt. Christ, he was losing his bleeding mind. Since when did he care about a woman’s comforts or lack thereof?
“No.” She watched him warily, as if she didn’t trust his kindness. Smart lass. “I’m quite well, thank you.”
Her polite façade was driving him mad. He was a whore, nothing more than that. He provided a service, one that he did rather well. And at the end of the day, the client would return home. He might see her again, he might not. But once that woman left his bedchamber, she was no longer something he needed to think about. For years he’d been able to avoid any sort of emotional entanglement, just as he’d wished. How it should be.
Annoyed, he found his attention sliding to her once more. She wore no gloves, and her small, pale hands were clutched tightly in the lap of her serviceable brown gown. Fingers that had grasped his shoulders last night, traveled down his body and urged him for more. How could this meek woman have been so passionate? He tore his gaze from her hands and traveled up the bodice of her gown. A gown with a neckline so low she looked the whore instead of him.
He forced his attention from her neckline to her face. The need in her eyes shook him to his very core, threw him off balance so that he felt as if he’d just tumbled off the edge of the earth. There was one thing he understood completely…desire. He knew, in that moment, that she thought about last night. He could practically feel the heat pulse from her body. She’d wanted him last night, and she wanted him now. His hands curled, his body growing hard as pure lust surged through his veins.
Frantic to understand his own emotions for this woman, he studied her face in the morning light. All he saw was a pert nose…innocent freckles…the full, lush lips…that fiery hair that hung in a long plait over her shoulder and down the side of her left breast. Milkmaid or seductress? He still wasn’t sure. But of one thing he was positive, Elizabeth greatly intrigued him and it had been a long, long while since anyone had interested him so. Dangerous woman indeed.
Flushing, she turned her gaze to the window. The curtains were drawn back. She did not hide in the shadows as most woman would have, shielding their pale skin from the harsh day. She shone in that light, she became part of the morning as if she was the very sun. If she hadn’t stripped in front of him and demanded he seduce her, he would have sworn she was some inexperienced country lass. But she’d come to him, she’d hired him, she’d wanted to mate with him…so what was her game?
Elizabeth cleared her throat and looked down at her lap, suddenly that shy lass. “I greatly enjoyed last night.”
He released a wry laugh, making her frown. Really, she was ridiculous, amusing, and seductive all in one. It was much like watching a play; he wasn’t sure which character would appear next. “Enjoyed?”
She glared, as if he’d hurt her feelings. “Greatly.”
“Wonderful. Perhaps you can give me a reference for future clients?”
With a huff she crossed her arms, sending those beautiful breasts so high, he swore he could see the edges of her pink nipples. “Why must you be so contrary? Why can you not accept a compliment?”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, annoyed and frustrated at the same time. “A compliment? A compliment would be, dear God, I loved how you sucked my breasts last night.”
He found immense satisfaction when her face grew a brilliant red. With a smirk, he leaned back against his seat and stacked his feet next to her upon the worn bench. “Or perhaps, I can’t believe how huge your cock is. Or perhaps—”
She shoved his feet off the seat. “Enough!” The outburst left her panting, those lovely breasts trembling with each harsh intake. “Obviously civil conversation is an impossibility with you.”
Gideon quirked a brow. “My dear, people do not hire me for my civil conversation.”
She pressed her palms into the worn seat and leaned toward him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m paying, and if I want polite conversation, I shall get it.”
“Very well.” He glanced toward the windows. “The weather is fine this day.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Do not be tedious.”
His game was up, but he didn’t mind. He released an exaggerated sigh. Why was it so bloody fun drawing her in? He could remember a time long ago when he’d jested with his friends. They’d considered him an amusing chap. What would they think of him now? Hell, most of them were probably in Newgate, if not dead.
“I’ve tried. You do not wish to discuss the glorious way I fucked you last night, nor do you wish to discuss the weather. I am merely a whore. My social education is sadly lacking.” He shook his head as if gravely disappointed. “Perhaps you should choose the topic.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and, with a huff, slumped back into the seat. “Oh do shut up.”
He laughed, almost startling himself. Uneasy, he focused on the window. He wasn’t quite sure who he was since leaving Lady Lavender’s. A man who worried about the welfare of others, a man who laughed and smiled easily. This was not the man he’d known for the past fourteen years. Was it the sudden freedom? The clean air? Gideon frowned. No, he knew without a doubt it was the woman across from him.
A woman who stared out the window so she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. A woman who had paid for his touch, yet seemed desperate to avoid him now. In fact, she was pressed so tightly to the seat, he was surprised she hadn’t burrowed through the leather. For some reason her distance greatly annoyed him. Within a mere moment, his good mood had fled. He would do best to keep focus upon the plan, and the plan was to escape as soon as he had the money.
“Where are we heading?” he asked.
“Just east of Wales,” she admitted, plucking at the yellowed, tattered lace at her sleeve. “I pray you have nothing against the west coast.”
Gideon fought to maintain his air of disinterest. “It’s not my job to mind.”
“Only yesterday you told me you were in control. You said that you made the decisions.” She gave him a smirk. The challenge lay before them, ripe with tension. “So which is it, do you follow or lead? You can’t be both, you know. It’s quite greedy of you.”
She thought she had him, but he never went down without a fight. “I merely said I do what I please, when I please.”
She frowned. “Wonderful, considering you have no opinion, it will make our trip much easier.”
He stacked his feet on the seat beside her once more. Baiting her was much too fun. The instinct to win and dominate was still there, but never had he entertained such an amusing rival. “I never said I didn’t have an opinion. I merely stated that it’s not my habit to care about mundane things.”
She lifted a brow. “Mundane? For someone who works in a brothel, your speech and manners seem awfully fine.”
“And for someone who is a lady, you seem awfully loose,” he shot back, going for blood.
Her face flushed, and he almost regretted his harsh words. Blast, but he wouldn’t let himself care. He’d perfected the debonair attitude of indifference, and he wouldn’t dare let the years of practice come to naught all because of a woman with emerald eyes.
“A lady can’t enjoy the fine pleasures of the body?” she asked, her voice sounding slightly shrill, and he knew he’d won. “A man goes to a whorehouse and no one bats an eyelash. A woman does and she’s loose.”
“No need to defend,” he said, lacing his voice with boredom. “I like loose women as much as any of the male species. You’ll have no problem finding men to fill your bed.”
“Wonderful. When you return, I’ll have to search for another. Shall I find one and keep him around for a while?�
�� She tapped a finger at the side of her mouth as if in deep thought. “Or should I sow my wild oats and all that?”
Gideon shrugged, feigning indifference when the thought of her bedding another produced a surge of jealousy the likes he’d never known before. “I have found variety is the spice of life.”
“Indeed. Good to know.”
They fell silent. She was staring daggers at him, but he merely smirked in return. In spite of the fact that he shouldn’t have cared, he couldn’t push aside the image of Elizabeth with another man. He wanted to jerk her forward, throw up her skirts, and show her that she belonged to him…at least for now.
“What exactly do you want from me, Mrs. Ashton?” he queried quite calmly, although inside he seethed.
“Want?” She picked up the soft kid gloves that had been sitting on the bench drying from last night’s jaunt through the rain. “Why, your body…for about two weeks.”
He gritted his teeth together lest he say something he’d regret. He merely had to keep hold of his temper, play the besotted, charming fool until he had the means to leave for America.
After a few moments of tense silence, she sighed, brushing her plait back over her shoulder. “Please, we will be together for a fortnight. Can we not get along? Can we not be…” The carriage slowed, and her entire face transformed. The tension was gone, replaced with a bliss so pure that his heart actually constricted. “Home,” she said breathlessly. “We’re home.”
For a brief, insane moment he wished he could produce such happiness within her. More than irate at the way of his thoughts, he glanced out the window. He’d expected a small country estate. How very wrong. Holy hell, he’d been right all along. Elizabeth was no wealthy lady, she was a bloody heiress.
To Capture a Rake Page 8
