A Lady's Guide to Kiss A Rake: Misadventures of the heart

by Wilde, Tanya

  Jo didn’t answer as he licked her navel. All thoughts fled at the sensations rippling through her body. She arched into his mouth, pressing up against him, satisfied when he growled in pleasure. She wanted more, needed more. His fingers were inside her again, mimicking the motion of this tongue as he continued to torture her with pleasure.

  “Come for me, Jo,” he growled against her skin.

  Jo did not understand what he meant by that but didn’t care. Her body had begun to shake as pressure started to build up inside.

  “Now,” he growled and the rough timbre of his voice sent her over the edge, causing her body to shatter into a million pleasurable pieces. Her nails dug into his back and she cried out while he murmured sweet words in her ear.

  “I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you.”

  In a haze of pleasure, she became aware of him positioning himself at her entrance just before he plunged deep inside her. Jo, who still clung to him in the throes of passion, sobered when he broke through her barrier in one hard stroke. He caught her cry on his lips and stilled above her, his eyes roaming her face. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you it hurts the first time.”

  Jo frowned as she wiggled her lower body. “It’s not that bad. It feels quite pleasant now.”

  “Stop moving your pretty bottom, Josephine,” he bit out. “If you keep doing that I won’t be able to stop myself from pounding into your soft flesh as I please.”

  Josephine’s lips formed an O at his declaration.

  “I don’t mind if you do that.”

  With a groan he started to move inside her, slowly at first, watching her intently for any signs that he hurt her. When she started to match his strides he quickened his pace, growling when she grabbed his buttocks and squeezed, arching into him. He pounded into her while she held pace, a cry of rapture escaping her lips.

  Jo abandoned herself to the pleasure of Damien’s strokes. Never had she imagined that the act of making love would be so pleasant and earth-shattering.

  “You. Are. Mine,” his growl echoed in her ear.

  Through a haze of ecstasy the now familiar pressure started to build up inside her again. She arched into him as his own thrusts quickened. In one swift motion, he lifted her hands above her head as he took her breast into his mouth, sucking hard.

  In a hoarse voice she shouted his name, pleasure exploding in its wake. She heard him growl her own name as he too found his release, spilling deep inside her, his breath coming out in harsh rasps.

  Damien let his head fall into the hollow of her shoulder. He did not want her to witness the alarm he was certain reflected on his face. What had just happened? He shook like some untried lad.

  In one quick motion he withdrew and noted with satisfaction the utter contentment on her face.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head sleepily and Damien settled in beside her, his breathing still labored.

  She glanced at him through one open eye. “Is it always this way?”

  “No, it’s certainly a first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Damien didn’t look at her as he replied. “This is the first time it has ever been this good for me.”

  A soft chuckle reached his ear. “I gather all my experience gained from seducing unsuspecting men paid off.”

  Damien nuzzled closer to her. “So long as I am the only unsuspecting man you seduce from now on, I may agree.”

  His words were met with the light timbre of a snore and Damien blinked down at her, surprised that she could fall so easily asleep with him still in her bed.

  Her earlier words came to mind. Words he never thought she would say. “You. I want you.” He’d almost fell to his knees before her and howled.

  With careful movements he shifted until her body pressed tightly against his and his arms locked around her until she was firmly nestled at his side. In her sleep she nuzzled closer to him, letting out a satisfied sigh.

  A smile stretched across his face. For months she had haunted his dreams, torturing him with desire. He would come awake every morning, breathless and frustrated as hell. But when he saw the trust in her eyes tonight he all but roared in satisfaction.

  She trusted him. And that was enough. For now.

  It had given him the strength he needed to proceed with care and tamp down his jealous rage. Never in his life had he wanted to lose control as he did at that moment.

  He stroked the soft skin of her back and she pressed tighter against him. Even in her sleep she was responsive. Come to think of it, Damien thought with a smirk, this will be the first time he’d shared a bed with a woman the entire night. He hated entanglements. They only served as an annoyance. But then, Josephine wasn’t your ordinary miss.

  He stared off into the darkness as his fingers idly stroked her, his thoughts returning to those blasted brothers. It annoyed him that Josephine believed they could do no wrong. He, on the other hand, did not trust them to keep her safe.

  He would not allow any harm to come to her, not after tonight, and especially not after he suspected she’d stolen a tiny bit of his heart. One small part. Still, it was enough for him to wish to keep her safe.

  The thing of it was, after tonight, after he’d tasted her, there appeared no way he would ever allow her to be involved in another project.

  Without him.

  For better or worse, he was part of her life now and—devil take it—he wished to run around London kidnapping abused peers with her. His arms tightened around her and he breathed in her scent. He did not wish to lose her now that he finally had her. What that entailed, only time would reveal. But for now she would just have to accept his presence in her life. With that pleasing thought in mind, he closed his eyes and drifted into the first peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks.

  Chapter 15

  Josephine awoke to the most pleasurable sensation. What a pleasant dream, she mused as she languidly stretched out her body. Then the sensation disappeared and Jo moaned in displeasure. Where had it gone? Ah, there it was again. Her stomach and breasts tingled from the sensation of... of... someone kissing her?

  Her eyes flew open and she hoisted herself up on her elbows, staring wide eyed at Damien, who was enjoying himself far too much with her naked body as he kissed his way up to her neck.

  “What are you doing?” Jo asked somewhat breathless, her protest dying on her lips at his skillful ministrations.

  “I am,” kiss, “savoring,” kiss, “you,” kiss.

  “Well stop that,” Jo murmured even while exposing her neck to give him more advantage. His hands found the swell of her breast as he settled between her. Now this was a nice way to greet the dawn.

  Dawn.

  Josephine pulled back, reality acting like a cold bucket of winter water. Her maid would come to wake her soon. She’d never been one to lie about and waste the morning. If there was daylight to be had, she wanted it.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  Her heart soared at the endearment. “You need to leave, now.”

  “Why? Things are just starting to become enjoyable.”

  Laugher bubbled up inside her chest at his petulant expression. The man was incorrigible. She should be horrified at what had transpired in her room, but she could not muster up the energy. No doubt horror would creep in later, but right now, she wished to enjoy this moment. If not for her maid…

  “My maid wakes me at dawn. She will be here any moment!” Jo whispered and pushed at him. He moved off her with reluctance, sparing her a heated glare, one that promised retaliation for her rejection.

  “What the devil is wrong with her? You should be sleeping till noon,” Damien said disgruntled. Then he shot her a wicked smile and sat up, taking most of the covers with him. Jo scrambled to him and snatched the covers out of his grasp in a yelp.

  “I don’t like lounging about. I prefer to be busy.”

  “Of course you do,” Damien said his tone dry. “But next time,” he leaned in to
nuzzle her cheek, “I won’t be pushed aside so easily.”

  Josephine noted his male satisfaction with a frown. There would not be a next time, but best not to inform him of that now. He would never leave then and they’d get caught. It was clear, however, that Damien presumed there would be a repeat of their glorious night together, which meant he wished to embark on an affair.

  A tempting consideration, indeed. Jo would not have the strength to argue if he pressed his suit and tried to change her mind. It would not take much to convince her, and until this mess with Cartwright had been managed, it was best to avoid entanglements, even though last night had been spectacular, magical, and incredible. The most perfect night of her life.

  “You need to leave before someone discovers you here and we are forced into an unpleasant situation.”

  He lifted a thick brow while gathering his clothes from between the sheets. “You mean marriage?”

  “Unpleasant business that,” Jo confirmed with a firm nod of her head. That earned her a fierce scowl.

  “Marriage to me would not be all that unpleasant.”

  Jo’s eyes widened. “Do you wish to marry?”

  “Do not be ridiculous,” he snapped.

  “Then it’s settled. Now get dressed!” Jo said and shoved hard. Too hard, for he toppled from the bed and hit the ground in a tangled heap. Jo blinked, her face contorted as laughter burst from her throat. He cursed and rose to his full length, scowling down on her.

  “Very well, Josephine, no need to be rude.”

  “Yes well, I do not wish to be forced into marriage with you.”

  “I understand,” he bit out.

  “I cannot believe we did that last night,” Jo said on a dreamy note, falling back into the pillows, “And with my brother in the house, no less!”

  She smiled at him, surprised at her own light mood. He smiled back at her, his smile predatory.

  “I can make you change your mind.” The husky note in his voice sent shivers up her spine.

  “Oh stop, you need to leave,” she said, once again her brilliant smile belying her stern expression.

  “Not without a goodbye kiss to tide me over.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  Jo’s silly smile did not waver as he leaned over her, his lips pressing down on her in a passionate kiss. He groaned when she responded with the same ferocity, pushing her body up against his. A connection existed between them, one that whenever they got close or even touched one another, the very air seemed to sizzle in response.

  He pushed away from her with an expression akin to alarm.

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Well,” Jo said unsteadily, “if that’s all it took to scare you away, I would’ve done it sooner.”

  “Shut that pert little mouth before I decide to stay and teach you a well-deserved lesson.”

  Jo clamped her mouth shut, curious how he planned to take his leave, through her door or down her balcony? As if he sensed her amusement he gave her a droll stare, heading for her bedroom door.

  “The kitchen door is never locked,” she supplied, watching him through hooded eyes as he opened the door a small measure and listened for any footsteps before he opened it wider.

  With a roguish smile he said, “Until next time, milady,” and with a gallant bow he disappeared through the door.

  Jo stared at the closed door for several heartbeats before she shrugged into her nightgown and rid any evidence of their passionate night. She stood before the mirror, examining herself with a tilt of her head. She did not look any different than before, neither did she feel physically different. The person who stared back at her still looked the same. But somehow, she had changed.

  With a sigh she plopped down on the bed again, gazing at the ceiling, her hands caressing the sheets. A curious warmth spread inside her, and Jo recognized the futility to try and avoid Damien in the future, for he had nestled himself firmly in her heart.

  Damien strolled through the streets of London, whistling like a besotted fool. In no particular hurry he enjoyed the brisk morning air. Never had he stayed the night with any woman he’d bedded. What a heady sentiment, this thing between them. Though he had no name for it, he’d be damned if he let it go.

  The perfect arrangement.

  For one, they both desired each other. Two, they both proved to be passionate beings. Three (and this was probably the most important reason), neither of them held any interest in marriage. Which led to four, they may just be perfect for each other.

  They could enjoy each other’s company without the risk of ruining their relationship with commitment. The word gave Damien pause. They may not be committed to one another but they would damn well be monogamous. The image of her in Craven’s arms made him scowl. Jealousy churned in his stomach. He would have a talk with her, to clear out the rules of their engagement.

  Well damn, Damien mused as he started to whistle another of his favorite tunes, the word engagement did not cause him to shudder, as it had in the past. A good sign, perhaps?

  Thunder boomed in the distance and he picked up his pace. A storm brewed and if the heavy clouds were any indication, rain would soon pour down on his head.

  Of course Josephine would be the one woman in his acquaintance that rose with the dawn. He wanted nothing more than to have continued to show her all they ways he wished to make love to her body.

  Last night, after he’d been sated with passion, he even entertained the thought of her snatching his heart and dashing off into the distance. He imagined giving chase but in the end, lost the race. What a fanciful notion for a man satiated in the after-effects of lovemaking. But he could not deny that he cared for her. However, words of love and heart thievery were better left for those equipped with the nerve to suffer through the consequences.

  She robbed him of his breath, thus leaving him incapable of uttering words of devotion. Yes, that appeared to be it. Worse, when he kissed her, his heart started to beat with such speed he hadn’t been able to breathe. For a moment he believed he would choke or suffocate to death. Did one’s heart have an expiry date? Saints, it had certainly felt so.

  With a shudder, he guided his reflections to more pressing matters—like how they would manage to get rid of Cartwright. Because short of killing the bastard, there did not appear much anyone could do but flee the country. Yet they were all gentlemen, and while the Shaws may have forgotten it, they did not resort to murder. Other, more devious methods may be applied in this case.

  It would require craftiness. Cartwright had put on such a show of his wife’s disappearance and Richmond’s hatred of him, that if anything happened to him now, all would suspect Richmond and he may suffer the consequences. Damien had no doubt that should Cartwright die, a trail of false evidence would lead straight to the duke.

  No, Cartwright needed to simply disappear while his wife reappeared. A sudden thought occurred to him. And why not? With everything else going on and everyone else doing bizarre things, his suggestion may rank first on the less crazy things Josephine and her band of ruffians had done. However, as much as he hated to admit, he would require the assistance of her brethren if they wished to succeed. Because for what he had in mind he needed stealth, level headedness, brute strength, cold calculability and lastly, sheer determination. He pulled a face at forming an alliance with them, but to save Josephine, it had to be done.

  Loathed to acknowledge he’d have to find a way to tolerate the men who rooted themselves so firmly in Josephine’s life, he made a mental note to badger her for the flaws she once mentioned he possessed. Not a man who shared, and as she was rather selfish in every respect of his life, it might not hurt to at least attempt to become friendly with the men. Who knew, they may even tolerate him in ten years or so.

  Later that day

  Damien stood in his study, arms around his chest, and listened to the reactions of the four men he’d invited to take part in his brilliant plan—Westfield, Craven and the Shaw brothers.

 
“You want to do what?”

  “The worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

  “Quite genius.”

  James Shaw shook his thick mane. “You want to stick a man in a crate and ship him to China. We are kindred spirits, you and I.”

  Damien’s smile stretched upward. At least they approved of his plan, whether they liked it or not. He supposed it was only to be expected since they came up with brilliant, flawed and hair brained schemes all the time.

  “Why can’t the duke force Cartwright to divorce his niece?” Westfield asked.

  “We suspect Cartwright acquired knowledge of something Richmond doesn’t want to get out,” replied Craven.

  “But shipping him off to a godforsaken land?” Westfield pressed.

  “He is right,” James muttered, “killing him will spare us a few coins.”

  “As much as I want to kill the bastard, brother, Richmond may be suspected if Cartwright is found dead,” explained Derek Shaw.

  “So we don’t leave a body for the runners to find,” James returned.

  Damien’s gaze flicked to the bigger Shaw. “Then you will be nothing more than a common murderer.”

  “I agree,” Derek said with a nod, looking just too damn happy sitting behind Damien’s desk.

  “And when he returns in a few years’ time?” Westfield demanded.

  James smirked, his stance lazy as he leaned against the wall next to the hearth where flames crackled. “He won’t.”

  “The plan, I must admit, is perfect,” Derek nodded in Damien’s direction. “Cartwright will be forced to work his board once discovered, consume food he’s not used to and labor with an intensity he would not be used to. My guess is he won’t last the voyage, much less a return voyage.”

  “I do not share your optimism, Shaw, but I like it,” Craven murmured in a dry voice.

  “Why not send him to Australia?” Westfield asked. “He will be treated like a criminal, but will never return.”

  Derek shook his head. “The captain is English and may believe the stories Cartwright spouts. You cannot argue your freedom if you do not speak the language.”