A Marquess Is Forever

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Since she could not, she instead kissed him with all of the passion she had pent up inside of her from so many years of sitting with the wallflowers, watching while other young ladies danced and eventually wed. All while pretending that the man her mother had selected for her to marry actually wanted her. He didn't. He never had. But this man? Lachlan? He did want her and he made no secret of it.

  Lachlan's body was aflame. He literally ached for this woman in his arms, something he had never experienced before. Even back home in Edinburgh when he was bedding a different woman every night, it had never been like this, this all-consuming need to possess her. To claim her as his and his alone. To mark her as his property. The beast of his past roared to life inside of him, demanding that Lachlan take Diana now and satisfy his pent-up desires, but he fought the desire back. If he did not rein in his desires, he would take her in the carriage. She deserved better than that.

  Yet when she pressed her breasts against his chest, he was overcome with the need to taste her. He might have been able to resist giving in to the burning need, had she not whimpered softly and offered him the soft skin of her delicate throat to sample.

  It began with a kiss - just one - light and feathery at the base of her throat, that delightful hollow where a woman's collarbone came across her chest. That particular spot was a favorite of his and Lachlan could not resist tasting Diana there, tracing a line with his tongue, letting her know how much he desired her. That he would take her now if it would not make him appear a beast in her eyes.

  "I need you, Lachlan," she whispered then, nearly driving him mad. "Please."

  The soft plea was what finally sent him over the edge. Giving in to what they both wanted, he reached up and caressed her breast through the thin fabric of her gown. Stroking his fingers along the side so that he could tease the soft flesh, she whimpered again, though this time it was more of a moan, urging him on. When he slowly unlaced her gown so that he could peel away the filmy fabric, he thought she might come apart in his arms instantly, so strong and powerful was her reaction. And he had yet to truly touch her intimately.

  Lovely. Utterly lovely. And perfect. Blessedly perfect. That was Diana's initial reaction to each stroke of Lachlan's fingers against her breast. The sensations made her toes tingle and her heart speed up. Then, when he finally pulled away the bit of fabric that was keeping her breasts hidden from his view so that he could press his lips to her swollen nipple, her heart began to thunder like a runaway carriage.

  With each nip of his teeth through the thin fabric against the sensitive bud, Diana felt as if she was spiraling out of control. Lachlan used his free hand to palm her other breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers and rolling it back and forth in a naughtily delightful manner, causing her to arch against him hard, crying out with need.

  Lachlan could stand it no longer. He shifted Diana more completely onto his lap, pulling her tight against him so that she straddled him fully now, pressing his hard erection into her soft core so that she might know how great his need for her was. Then he pulled her breasts completely free from the thin covering of her chemise so that he might feast on them freely.

  "Lovely," he murmured against her warm flesh. "So very lovely." And indeed she was, her breasts larger than most women's, with rosy pink tips that he ached to take into his mouth once more. Refusing to deny himself any longer, he took one distended tip fully into his mouth, sucking hard and then biting down before laving at her with his tongue to ease the sting. With his other hand, he plucked at her nipple, teasing her mercilessly until she was pawing at his chest, whimpering with need.

  Just when Diana thought she could take no more, Lachlan switched breasts, driving her even closer to the edge. The edge of what she was not certain, but whatever it was, it was there, just out of her reach. The desire that had been roiling inside of her now reached a fever pitch and she pressed herself against Lachlan as hard as she could. She needed... Well, she did not know precisely what she needed, but some type of release, an easing of the maddening ache that had quite literally overtaken every part of her body.

  On some level, she was vaguely aware that this was her first taste of true passion and pleasure, and it made her heart fairly sing that Lachlan had been the man that had introduced these delights to her. For she wanted him in a way she had never wanted another man. In fact, anything she had ever imagined she might have felt for another paled in comparison to the heat and desire, the complete yearning she felt for this man who suckled at her breasts as if his very life depended on it. Then, Lachlan bit down on her nipple once more, harder this time while his fingers pulled tight on the other taut little bud.

  Diana was flying. Her body reached a crescendo and she shattered into a thousand little pieces, a wave of passion breaking inside of her and flooding her core with a wetness that, had she been with another man, might have embarrassed her. Yet with Lachlan, it felt right and she cried out his name just as a second, more powerful wave hit her, sweeping her away with a passion she had never known before.

  He hadn't meant to do that. Truly he hadn't. All Lachlan had wanted to do was give Diana a taste of passion. But she had responded so willingly and delightfully, her busy hands caressing his body, her hips rocking against his hardened cock until he thought he might spill himself in his trousers. Just as he had the first time his father had introduced him to a whore when Lachlan was naught but twelve years old.

  Lachlan had brought Diana to release, even though he had not found his own. And he would not. Not now. Not yet. It was too soon and she was not yet ready. But Diana had shown her eagerness to learn, to experience passion and - most importantly - experience it with him. That was a gift he could not ignore, even though he doubted that she was aware she had given it. He would repay her in kind. Well, when he could breathe again he would. He also needed to make certain she understood what she had just done.

  Finally, with a great deal of difficultly, he pulled away from Diana, still gasping for breath. The woman undid him so. "Please tell me you wanted that." Though he still struggled for breath, he needed to know that she had indeed wanted all that had just transpired between them, that she did not think him a rogue of the worst sort.

  Gasping for breath herself, Diana rested her forehead against his. "As I was the one who initiated the kiss, I believe you know that I did." She swallowed hard. "My God, Lachlan. I had no idea. Is it always like that between a man and a woman?"

  "No," he replied as he began to gather his wits again. "Not in my experience. And never like that, for I have never been with you before."

  Diana drew in a deep breath and then released it slowly, as if she was uncertain how he might receive her next question. "That was only a sample, was it not? There is more we can do, correct?" Again, she knew that Lachlan had not found his release and, given the way he was gazing at her through half-glazed eyes, it was unlikely that he would. He did not want to dishonor her. She could tell.

  "A mere taste of what I would give you if I could." He could not lie to her. "But it is not right. Not now anyway. But there is so much more to experience, lass. Ach, and I ache to show it all to you, love. You cannot know how much."

  "And you have had a great deal of experience then?" She should not ask. Not now. Diana knew that, but she also wanted to know the truth. He was not a virgin. Not like her. But how many women had there been before her? Was he a rake, as he had teased her earlier? Suddenly, it was important to discover the truth before she lost any more of her heart to this man. Before she did something that she might later regret.

  He paused for a moment, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Some. More than there should have been." Slowly he pulled back so that he could see her eyes in the fading lamplight. However he could not quite bear to let her go just yet. "I will not lie to you, Diana. You already know that about me. So I will be honest. There were women back in Edinburgh that flung themselves at me with gleeful abandon. I was, after all, the heir to the Viscount Gladston and the future laird
of the McKenna clan. I was considered a prized catch. And I did not resist as much as a gentleman should have."

  She had expected that response, but it still hurt. A little, anyway. "And I am guessing that Edinburgh is not so different from London, is it? That men are much the same there as they are here."

  "No. It is not very different at all." Lachlan ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "I am a man, Diana, one who, until a scant few years ago, lived his life as if he would never die. I never gave a damn about the future or the consequences. I took mistresses and bedded willing widows. I gambled and lied, drank to excess and lived a true life of depravity, not giving a damn about anything other than my own pleasure. I was the rake I told you I was on the night we met. In many ways, I was worse."

  Diana looked deeply into Lachlan's eyes, the midnight pools shifting and changing color, emotions swirling through the inky depths faster than she could interpret them. "But you are not that man any longer. I can see it plainly."

  With a sigh, Lachlan pulled Diana to him, nestling her against his side and trying to ignore how right she felt there. As if she belonged there. He did not deserve her understanding, not after what he had just done, but he was thankful for it anyway. "No, I am not. After my mother died, my father mourned for a bit but then quickly married his second wife, Annis, in short order. She was a good woman, kind and gentle, and she bore him four daughters. My sisters. And then Annis died as well. Except that this time, things were different. I was older, busy whoring my way through Scottish society. And my father? He wanted a new wife. Badly. And he would do almost anything to obtain one." At that, Lachlan shuddered with disgust. "The first year after Annis' death, he was in mourning, but when he emerged? He was a different man, a man I no longer recognized, though he had never been particularly kind to me. After all, I was far too English for his liking. But after Annis? He had a harder edge, one that frightened me. Still, I was a man, able to stand up to him in a way that others could not."

  "You feared he might harm someone."

  "My sisters." There was a true note of pain in Lachlan's voice. "One morning I stumbled home from a night of drinking at the local pub, even though I had already long since sworn to clean up my act, and found him about to take a switch to Grier, my youngest sister, for accidentally knocking over a broom. A broom, of all things! When I questioned my other sisters, they all told me the same thing. My father had been beating them since Annis passed, usually for small infractions. One of my middle sisters - twins, I should add - Wynda, had a scar on her shoulder from where my father had struck her with a broken bottle. The other twin, Moira, did not have a scar, but she had a similar tale. They all did."

  At some point, Diana had placed the palm of her hand on Lachlan's chest, unwilling to break physical contact with him. Now she could feel the steady beat of his heart begin to race as he thought about his sisters. That told her all she needed to know about his character. His past did not matter. "I take it you changed your way of living."

  Lachlan cupped Diana's chin so that she could look him in the eyes once more. "That morning I realized that if I did not intervene, my father would kill them - most likely by accident, though that would not change the outcome. Annis' death twisted something inside of him, something that the death of my mother most likely began. My sisters needed protection. They needed me to change, to be a better man. So I did."

  "And now you are here, still protecting them." Diana felt something deep inside of her stir. This wasn't passion or desire, but something that came from a deeper part of her being. However, she shoved it aside. She did not want to think about such things - whatever it was - at the moment. Not when she was in the comfort of Lachlan's arms, listening as he revealed more of himself to her.

  "I need to clean up my father's debts and repair the family name." He looked out the window to the scenery that slowly rolled by, the driver long since slowing to an almost full stop in the heavy street traffic. "Grier will make her come out in a year or so. I want them all to come to London for a season eventually, to have the sort of lives they deserve, the kind my mother had, even though they are not of her blood. But they are of mine. They might not be English, but they deserve to make good matches, to have a better life than the ones my father had planned for each of them, marrying them off to local lords to cement political alliances."

  Unthinking, Lachlan reached up to stroke Diana's hair. "My mother always told me she married for love, that she was swept away and completely undone by it. How she could love my father, I still do not understand. I am not certain that I ever will. But I believe that she did love him deeply. My sisters might not be of her blood as I am, but they are my family and they deserve that same chance to be happy. To find love."

  Twisting in his grasp, Diana shifted once more so that she straddled Lachlan's lap again. She needed to see him, needed him to know that she understood. "Then that is precisely what they shall have. But you deserve love, too, Lachlan."

  She kissed him, this time on the cheek so as not to ignite the passion between them once more. It was a soft, gentle kiss - not one of passion but one of caring. Of understanding. "That is why I am allowing you to court me. To allow you to show me pleasure and desire as you did just now. Because that fire you speak of, the one that you fear will cause you to lose your head over me? I feel it as well. I might not understand it, at least not as you do, but I know it is there, flaring inside of me each time we are together. And I cannot and will not ignore it. I have lived my life on the sidelines for too long. No longer. In this moment, I will take what I want. And right now, I want you. More than I have ever wanted anything in my life."

  Then, before Lachlan could utter another word, Diana kissed him will all of the passion still pent up inside of her. She kissed him with the passion of hundreds of kisses that she had stored up over the years, the ones never bestowed upon the Duke of Hathaway. Or any man, really. For no man had ever made her feel this way, as if she wanted to take for herself rather than give away to others as she always had. Except for Lachlan. For him, she would always give what he needed from her. It was a new sensation for her and one she wanted to savor and relish for as long as Lachlan would allow it.

  Above him, Diana shifted her body against his, brushing against his already painfully hard cock, making him want to abandon his vow to be a better man and simply take her where they sat, finding release inside of her warm, welcoming heat. But he could not do that. He had vowed he would not dally with an innocent unless it was inside the bonds of matrimony. But, oh, how Diana temped him, with her thick, lush hair and delicious curves that he wanted to kiss and sample all evening long.

  However there was enough decency in him that he knew he could not take her, no matter how much he longed to do so. So instead he returned her kisses with as much passion and desire as she showered upon him, teasing her breasts once more so that he could bring her to release again. And once more, he willingly fell into the burning sun that was Lady Diana Saintwood and prayed that he would make it out alive.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning as he lingered over breakfast at White's, Lachlan felt energized in a way he never had before. He also quickly realized that he owed the feeling to the lovely Diana. She was a treasure and one he did not deserve. Especially after their scandalous behavior upon leaving the theater.

  The previous evening, he had somehow managed to deposit Diana at her front door with no one inside being any the wiser. He had worried at first that Philbert, the ever-present Saintwood family butler would notice that Diana had not arrived home in the Duke of Radcliffe's carriage. Or that someone would notice her decidedly mussed state, as she had been unable to right her appearance after he had so thoroughly ravished her in his carriage.

  It had been very late - well into the early hours of the next day in fact - when Lachlan's carriage had pulled up in front of the town home, and he had clearly heard Diana make apologies to the butler as she exited the coach, saying that the theater was a great crush and tha
t it had taken longer than anticipated to depart. She did not mention her disheveled appearance, however, and the butler did not remark upon it either. However Philbert had mentioned that Diana's late arrival home was among the least of any young lady's worries that evening. He also remarked in a rather conspiratorial tone that her mother had gone to bed early with a megrim upon hearing the most distressing news - Miss Phoebe Banbrook had been seen riding in the Duke of Hathaway's carriage unchaperoned. With the duke.

  Now, all the morning gossip rags were reporting the news with unabashed glee, speculating on what it might mean for the future of the dukedom and a woman of no real note. As expected, the butler pointed out, Diana was mentioned in passing, for how could any good gossip columnist remark upon the scandal of the previous evening without breathlessly including Diana's own tenuous link to the duke. A few of the papers however also mentioned that the fair Miss Saintwood had been seen at the same event in the Duke of Radcliffe's box, seated beside the roguishly handsome Marquess of Hallstone and clearly enjoying herself.

  Though he did not enjoy any hint of scandal being attached to Diana's name, Lachlan was secretly pleased that the papers had intimated that Diana had been enjoying herself in his company. Not only did it make a public statement that they were officially courting - without him having to say as much - but it also made Diana appear as if she did not care that the notoriously proper duke was publicly embarrassing himself.

  Lachlan did note that there was a small paragraph in several papers that mentioned a certain Lady P.S. who was rumored to have borne a bastard son the previous summer and somehow managed to pass the child off as the heir to a future double title holder. The paper went on to report that the same lady was seen propositioning a young Lord A.S., heir to an earldom of some note. For Diana's sake, Lachlan hated that both Oliver and Patience were appearing in such a bad light in the papers these days, but really, the man did need to step up and take that termagant of a wife of his in hand. Patience was making them all look bad by mere association, and Lachlan would not allow Diana's reputation to come to harm because of a related-only-by-marriage woman who could not seem to manage to keep her legs closed.