Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book
Page 30
This was all coming at her so quickly that she could barely comprehend what he was telling her. She took a deep breath. “Perhaps if you explain more slowly.”
“My idea is that women can come to visit you and sit anonymously in your drawing room. It would all be perfectly respectable. Then each of your students could slip through the side door and join you in your secret academy. That way, you could spread your knowledge to others, continue to fence, and teach women how to defend themselves. The women could come and go freely without worrying about what society might think. It’s a perfect solution. Look, you even have a ladies’ dressing area over here,” he said as he gestured toward another door off the fencing salon.
Catherine looked around the room anew, overwhelmed by an enormous welling of both relief and gratitude. He’d considered so many details. The large windows were frosted, keeping prying eyes from seeing into the private space. The curtains that hung over them were pale blue, with darker blue accents, and the walls were bathed in pale cream. A pair of blue-and-cream fencing cabinets flanked the fireplace. A massive white marble fireplace was laid with kindling, ready to be lit.
Large framed mirrors reflected her every movement in the room.
A feeling of deja vu swept over her as she saw her image reflected in the glass, dressed as she was in her white wedding dress. The color of the clothing perfectly matched that of her fencing attire, and this merging of her feminine aspect with the traditionally masculine environment suddenly crystallized in her mind. The threads of her life twined together once again. The momentary feeling of disorientation fled as she saw Daniel, too, reflected in the mirror, anchoring her to the moment.
“It’s lovely. Truly,” she said in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. She circled the room as she looked at it. There was a crystal chandelier near the windows, and Catherine could envision herself moving through her regular fencing routine in the space. “Did you have Mr. Newcomb create this?”
He nodded. “I’m glad you like it. I hoped you would. The mantel above the fireplace will be the perfect location for the trophy you’ll win next week in Bernini’s tournament.” Daniel came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss against her temple as he held her against his chest. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to travel there with you, but I’ll be there in spirit.”
“But what if I have to compete against you?”
Daniel tossed his head back and laughed. “No. Fencing isn’t my passion. It’s yours. I’m adequate, but I don’t have your drive. I’m fairly certain I’ll be out of the running before we could compete, but if you are truly concerned, I’ll make sure Bernini has me fencing someone other than you at the beginning of the match so that we won’t have a chance of facing one another until the final round.”
Catherine turned in his arms to face him. Gazing up at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. His eyes... she could lose herself in those amazing blue eyes.
“But I still don’t understand why you want to open an academy. Fencing is my dream, not yours.”
The room darkened briefly. A cloud must have passed in front of the sun. It was as though Daniel’s eyes darkened to a deeper shade of blue, and she felt herself falling into them, dipping beneath his surface and tumbling into his depths.
He shrugged. “Whatever I do in life, I like to do the right way. The best way for all involved. The right way to be married to you means supporting you as a fencer and allowing you to be who you really are, rather than trying to turn you into someone else.”
She closed her eyes, her unshed tears finally slipping free and sliding down her cheeks. To think, just two minutes ago she’d thought he’d stolen her dream from her and taken it for himself. And now this. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze.
Her lips parted as he dropped his head closer to hers, and she pressed her body against his. He kissed her, his touch tender and warm.
Her fingers crept into his hair, clutching at it and holding his head firmly in place as her tongue darted into his mouth. Daniel tasted of wedding cake and butter-cream frosting and her own salty tears.
She wanted to cry out in joy and relief.
At least she’d won his respect. Perhaps love could still come.
Her breath caught in her throat as he ran his hands down her back, bumping his fingers against the many small buttons of her wedding dress. He was amazingly adept at releasing each tiny fastening while simultaneously tracing kisses along her neck from her ear down to the pulse pounding in her throat.
She opened her eyes for a moment and was startled by the light shining in the frosted windows. Hadn’t it been darker just a moment ago? Surely something like this belonged in the twilight.
Or on a train?
She almost giggled. But perhaps not. Her eyes fell shut again and she sighed as his mouth caressed her just beneath her earlobe. Small shivers of delight ran through her body.
More than half of her buttons were undone by now, and Daniel paused to pull her dress partway down her shoulders, revealing more skin for his lips to explore. His hands quickly returned to her buttons, making quick work of those that remained while his lips trailed down her neck, moving maddeningly closer to her exposed breasts. She let out a soft moan as she reveled in the sensations he aroused in her body.
The buttons were finally undone, and the dress dipped from her shoulders. Daniel reached down to bundle up the skirts and lift the entire wedding gown over her head. She was clothed only in her petticoats, corset, drawers, and shift, and he began to untie the strings holding her petticoats in place. There were four layers of petticoats in all, and once the last of the strings were untied, they fell to the floor, puddling around her feet.
Daniel swept her up in his arms, removing her from the frothy pool of white undergarments. He carried her through the secret doorway to one of the low sofas in the adjoining drawing room.
Up to that moment, everything had happened so quickly that Catherine hadn’t thought about what was about to take place. But when she felt the cool upholstery against her bare shoulders, she had a brief flash of apprehension.
Before it could take hold, Daniel lowered himself onto the sofa next to her, tugging off her shoes. His coat and cravat were gone. She barely had time to notice that his shirt had pulled loose from his trousers, making him look rumpled and at his ease, before his hands slid along the satin of her corset as he kissed her, making her forget everything.
Daniel leaned back on the sofa and pulled her onto his chest as his fingers continued their task of undressing her. He untied the bow securing the corset and then deftly tugged at the tight strings. Once they were loose enough, he pushed her up so that she was sitting astride his hips, giving him access to the long row of hooks running down the front of the device. His fingers made quick work of the hooks, and he threw the corset carelessly across the room.
She’d long been used to being dressed and undressed by her lady’s maid. The tugging and pulling on her clothes shouldn’t have been new to her, but it was. The frantic need building within her made the sensations different. This merging of the practical and the sensual surprised her, especially when she felt her body respond to his touch.
Now free of the stiff, confining garment, Catherine could feel Daniel’s hands sliding across her body with only the thin fabric of her shift separating them from her bare skin. He pulled down the soft cotton fabric to expose her breasts and leaned forward to press his lips between them, burying his face in their softness. He brushed his thumbs against her nipples, seemingly transfixed by the way they sprang erect at his touch. As she gazed down at him from astride his lap, his tender and unguarded look of fascination pulled at her heart.
One of his hands glided past her hip and began to pull up her chemise. He slid his hand under it, exposing the waistband of her drawers, where he quickly undid their fastenings.
She gasped as he pushed her to her feet and then stood next to her. He grasped her drawers with both hands and quickly yanke
d them down before spinning her around and pressing her back down on the sofa. He pulled her drawers off over her feet and tossed them haphazardly across the room as well.
She looked up at him as he stood before her, still clothed. Her shift was bunched around her waist, and his predatory gaze devoured her semi-naked body. It had been a long time since she had felt like his prey, but now his intense focus thrilled her and filled her with an awareness of her own sensual power. She met his eyes and lifted her chin, unwilling to bend to his will. She would meet him as an equal.
“I want to see all of you,” he said as he pulled her shift over her head.
“I want to see all of you too,” she said, reaching for his waistband. It felt strange to be naked in front of him while he was still clothed, but as she saw the hunger in his eyes, she knew there was power in her nudity.
He smiled and yanked his shirt over his head. He removed the rest of his clothing so quickly that she could only blink with surprise.
Daniel’s body was amazing. It was firm and muscular, with a light sprinkling of black hair that trailed down his chest in a V. And below that... she was startled by what she saw. Was that really supposed to fit inside her? She barely had the opportunity to look at him before he was moving back toward her, covering her body with his, bare skin sliding against bare skin.
He pressed her back down onto the sofa and stretched out next to her, all the time whispering tender endearments. “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful, my darling.”
His knees bumped against hers. “We’re a little crowded here. Let’s try a different spot.” He wrapped his arms around her and rolled off the low sofa, falling to the rug with her on top of him, cradled against his chest.
“Oof,” she said, surprised by his sudden move.
He rolled over again, taking her with him and pinning her to the thick, soft Aubusson rug beneath them. He leaned down and began to kiss her again, starting with her lips and then moving lower and lower down her body. His hand slid slowly down to her hip, and he gently nudged her knees apart with his leg as he slid his hand to the intersection of her thighs.
His thumb grazed against her most sensitive spot and she gasped, her arm flailing out until it banged against the sofa. She reached up to clutch the cushion just above her head. He’d found that same spot he’d focused on during the train ride, and her fist tightened on the fabric as his hand drove her wild. She realized now that he’d been looking for it before. He’d known it was there. He knew more about her body than she did.
His hand dipped lower, and his finger found her slick warmth as it slipped inside her. The muscles of her inner thighs convulsed, pulling together, but his hand kept moving in and out, drawing forth sensations she had been hungering for since that afternoon on the train. He continued to use his thumb to caress that sensitive little nub as his fingers slid in and out in a rhythm that left her breathless.
She heard herself moan, and Daniel responded as though her sounds were exactly what he’d been waiting to hear. He spread her legs farther apart as he pressed his weight against her hips, and she felt something much larger press against the opening between her legs.
She pulled back, suddenly nervous. “Maybe you’re too big. Are you sure this will work?”
“I think you’ll find that we fit perfectly well.” His finger slid across her nub, and her back arched.
Gently, he pressed against her, but something prevented him from entering her. Just before he stopped moving, she felt a tightness— a sort of pressure. He paused, and then thrust firmly against her hips.
She cried out as she felt something pop, and then he was inside her. She froze, afraid to continue. “I was right. It’s too big.”
“Wait just a moment. It’s already over. Did it hurt?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly, but I felt something give way.”
“From what I was told, there’s little to no pain the first time if the man makes sure the woman is feeling pleasure and is ready for him.” He moved a little against her, as if letting her test the sensation. He began to move slowly again, sliding his length deep inside her. Warmth filled her, taking her breath away as pleasure replaced her momentary anxiety. Her legs wrapped around him, almost of their own accord, and she moved her hips to match his rhythm.
After a moment, he paused. “I’m crushing you on this rug. Let’s try something different.”
He withdrew and pulled her into a sitting position, and then he reclined on his back, pulling her astride his hips as though she were riding a horse.
“Lift up and lower yourself onto me,” he said. He gently directed her with his hands. She rested her palms against his shoulders and used them to balance as she lifted her hips. He guided her onto him as he slid back inside her.
One hand continued its gentle caress of that sensitive nub, and the other held her hip.
“Move against me,” he instructed, and she rocked forward, then back again, savoring the sensation of flesh sliding against flesh.
The sensations building within her sent currents of pleasure rippling through her body. Every nerve ending sang with his touch.
Daniel’s fingers continued their tender, circular movements, and Catherine moved her hips in concert with them, meeting him stroke for stroke. She felt as though her body was a musical instrument and Daniel was pulling a symphony of sensations from her.
Just like the time on the train, Catherine felt something building within her— a grasping need that had her clutching Daniel’s shoulders as gasping noises escaped her. Suddenly, she shattered, and convulsive waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her body broke into a million pieces as all sane thoughts fled. There was only sensation.
Daniel responded with his own shuddering moans, and she felt him thrusting, thrusting, as he arched his back and ground his hips into hers. He seemed to freeze in place for a moment, gasping for air, and then the tension in his body ebbed. He collapsed, pulling her back to the floor with him.
They were both breathing hard. Catherine leaned her forehead down, resting it against his shoulder. She slowly began to return to herself. A languorous feeling took over her body, and she could tell Daniel had the same feeling by the way his hand slowly grazed her back, moving up and down, before coming to rest, cupping her bottom.
She pressed herself up with her arms and looked down at him. Her hair had fallen from its hairpins, and it was now tumbling down around her face, surrounding them both as she looked into his eyes. She smiled with the sudden realization of how much she truly, deeply loved this man.
His eyes were closed. She wanted to say the words and declare her love. She shifted above him, hoping he’d meet her gaze, but his eyes remained shut.
She leaned down to kiss him, and his eyes flew open. Finally, he looked at her, but his face remained shuttered and he glanced away, his entire body tensing.
“We need to leave before nightfall,” he said, rolling to one side and spilling her onto the rug. He pushed away from her as he rose to his feet. “This place will be cold and dark soon.”
She shivered from the sudden, deep chill that washed over not only her body, but also her soul. “Is something wrong?”
“Of course not,” he said, pulling her to her feet. But he refused to look at her. Instead, he began gathering her clothing together. “It’s just that we need to hurry.”
With a sober nod, she pulled on her shift. They dressed in silence.
48 - Resolve
Daniel cast a surreptitious glance at his bride as she struggled back into her clothes. A flash of possessiveness hit him as he saw her lithe, muscular body wriggle into her shift, and the depth of the emotion shocked him.
His cock hardened as he pulled on his trousers. Once wasn’t enough with Catherine. Perhaps a lifetime wouldn’t even be enough.
Tension clutched at his chest and shoulders. He was a fool to play with fire this way. He’d thought that by encouraging her rebellious nature, he’d be able to limit her effect upon him.
He’d been wrong.
Not only was he married to an entirely unsuitable woman, but he was also in danger of losing his heart to her.
And there lay madness.
He’d end up just like his father.
Even now, he ached to touch her again. To hold her close. To soothe away the hurt on her face. But he held himself back.
Was the damage already done? Was he already too far gone?
He steeled himself, and instead of reaching out to her, he turned his back on her and tugged on his boots.
He could control this. He could protect his heart and hold himself separate. After all, he’d been alone for years; there was no reason for that to change now.
49 - Waiting for Wentworth
One week later, Daniel watched his new wife as she glanced at the clock in their drawing room yet again.
“Is Wentworth usually punctual?” Her brows puckered together.
“Yes, for the most part. I’m certain he won’t be late today.”
She resumed her pacing, and Daniel suppressed a smile as he watched her. She was wound tightly today and seemed unable to stop moving. She wandered about the drawing room, examining everything. She paused at the serving table just long enough to place his decanters into a more aesthetically pleasing arrangement, then drifted on to make small adjustments to yet another part of the room.
He enjoyed watching her like this, prowling about the house, making it hers. She’d been like this all day. When he’d suggested they have Mr. Newcomb make some small changes to the space, she’d refused, insisting that the man focus his time and energy on the new estate rather than wasting it here.
He knew she was still annoyed that they weren’t going to the tournament together, but this was for the best. It took constant self-control to stop himself from watching her all the time when they were in the same room together, and he found that level of discipline difficult to maintain. Wentworth had already commented on a few of his momentary lapses. He’d need to avoid her at the tournament as much as possible. Those fencing pants of hers would be the death of him.