by Tamara Gill
If she thought she’d shocked him before it was nothing to how he looked now. Totally flabbergasted and without words he stared up at her, before his face darkened in hunger and he flipped her over, pinning her to the bed.
She squealed, having not expected the move, and her stomach clenched in delicious tremors. Ever since their first kiss she’d dreamed of being with him so. Of touching him, kissing him, without the threat of interruption.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you beneath me, just as you are now.” He bent down and kissed her, a sweet, soft melding of lips that left her following him as he pulled away. Wanting more of the same, not less. Never less. “Before we go any further, tell me why you’re here. I need to hear it.”
Lizzie shivered at the deep, tightly harnessed need she heard in his voice. She wanted to break that control, see what he was like in his full, wild glory.
“I’m here because I want to be with you. I want you to make love to me.” Love me as I love you. Heat bloomed on her cheeks and she bit her lip, hoping he wouldn’t push her away. That she hadn’t been wrong in what she knew to be between them.
He leaned back, running his finger over her cloak, untying it from her neck and pushing it aside to lay about her like a halo. “I shouldn’t allow this. You’re a maid. I’d be the worst rogue to walk the earth to have you like this.”
Lizzie studied him a moment, waiting to see what he would choose. It had to be his choice. She would not beg.
He frowned, shutting his eyes. “Damn it, Lizzie, but I cannot stay away.” He slid one hand down her legs and clasped the hem of her gown, pushing it up to bunch at her waist. “I want you naked beneath me. I want to see all that you are. I will, however,” he said, throwing her a mischievous grin, “allow your silk stockings to remain.”
Heat pooled at her core and she writhed, needing him to touch her. “How very naughty of you, my lord.”
“Hugo, please. No titles between us. Not ever again.”
Lizzie was only too willing to do as he asked, and in a flurry of movement he had divested them both of their garments. The clothes lay pooled about the bed, and Lizzie chuckled as he came back over her, his hair askew, his eyes bright with expectation.
She fought to control her body, that no longer felt like her own. The touches he bestowed as he stripped her naked left her aching, and not for the first time she clenched her thighs if only to give herself a little relief.
The hair on his chest tickled, the skin on his back was warm and smooth, and he had the most intoxicating smell of sandalwood and something else that was solely Hugo. He kissed her deeply, seducing her with his mouth, and she gave way to the sensations, the want she had for him.
So this was why her cousin’s wife always looked at her husband with such love and reverence. Why their marriage was a loving and obviously passionate one. Hugo lowered his head to her breast, taking one nipple between his lips before licking it with sweet teasing. She moaned, her fingers spiking into his hair to hold him against her. “That’s wicked, Hugo.”
He blew on her nipple and it puckered at the chill, before he licked it once again. “I want you so much it hurts. From the first moment I saw you enter Lady X’s parlor I knew I had to have you. That I wanted you and would never allow another to touch one hair on your pretty head.” He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “But are you sure, Lizzie? There is no coming back from this action should we proceed. You will no longer be a maid.”
She cupped his cheek, the prickling of his stubble rough against her palm. “I no longer care about being a maid. I’ve wanted this too for so long, much longer than you’ll ever know, and there is nothing in the world that will stop me from what we’re about to do.”
“You’ve wanted me for some time?” He rocked against her core, spiking need throughout her body.
“Oh, yes,” she gasped, not entirely in reply to his question but also due to his actions. “I noticed you long before you ever noticed me.”
“Hmm, you may be wrong about that.”
She ran her hand against the nape of his neck and pulled him down to her. “Really? Tell me then.”
He stared at her a moment before a mischievous smile tweaked his lips. “The only reason I did not act before now was due to my friendship with Lord Leighton. Of all the people in the ton, he knows of my past, my indiscretions. I knew he would not look favourably on my courting of you. But when I saw you at Lady X’s, all bets were off.”
Lizzie lifted her leg to sit up against his hip. The action brought him closer to her and desire ran hot through his gaze. Warmth pooled at her core and she longed for him to continue what they’d started. “They like you, in spite of your rakish tendencies.”
A muscle worked in his jaw and he stared at her a moment. “Lord Leighton will never forgive me for what we’re about to do.”
“He’ll never know,” she said, sliding her hands down his back to clasp his buttocks. She pulled him against her, helping to dispense some of her need.
He swore, sucking in a startled breath. “True,” he managed.
And with those words he settled against her fully, and with painful care guided himself into her. The sensation was odd, but not wholly unpleasant. Her mother had spoken of searing pain, and tedious annoyance until one ripened with a child. But this, this right now with Hugo, was anything but tedious, anything but painful.
It was delightful.
Taking a deep breath, Lizzie tried to relax and understand the fullness, the sensations that were swarming through her body. Hugo did not rush her. With perfect care, he allowed her to get used to his size before pulling out a little, only to then thrust back within her.
The dance made her crave him even more, and she soon found herself moving with him. He kissed her throughout and she gasped when pleasure thrummed at her core.
“I do not want to hurt you, Lizzie.” His voice sounded strained and she shook her head, words eluding her for a moment.
“You’re not hurting me.” She kissed him deep and long, sliding her tongue against his, the kaleidoscope of feelings he brought forth almost too much to contain. “Keep going. Don’t ever stop.”
He pushed deeper, and she moaned, her body breathless, a light sheen of sweat chilling her skin. His actions became frantic, harder, more demanding, and yet something was missing. It was like a peak was out of her reach, teasing her close by before floating away.
“I feel…I want…oh dear, I do not know what I want,” she gasped as he continued his onslaught of her emotions.
He leaned down, kissing her ear. “You desire pleasure. Not that you know what that is yet, but I’m about to show you.” He slid his hand between them and touched her mons. With each thrust he flicked across her flesh. He owned her. At this very time Lizzie would allow him to do anything he pleased if only he would never stop.
What was he doing to her? This love making was more intense, the sensations more vivid than when they were together at Lady X’s. It was as if she could shatter into a million pieces and still remain whole. With one last flick, he thrust into her hard, and the peak she had climbed but never assailed crested. She tumbled into unimaginable pleasure, calling out his name as wave after wave flowed through her.
There were no words for the delectable tremors and pulsating thrums that overtook her body. Hugo gasped out her name, kissing her as his thrusts, hard and constant, battered her body. But before his release, he pulled out, stroking himself above her belly. Lizzie watched enthralled as he found his release outside of her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and touching him, sliding her hand about his shaft and helping him find his pleasure.
Their eyes met and held, and with his look Lizzie tumbled over into love with him. There would never be anyone else but Hugo for her. They were simply meant to be.
He flopped beside her, then, reaching over to the bedside cabinet, he grabbed a discarded cravat and wiped her belly clean. “I do apologize, it can be a messy business.”
&nbs
p; She didn’t care about any of that. All she cared about was when they would meet next. Hugo seemed to be thinking the same.
“When can I see you again? I do not think I can go a day without being near you,” he stated, throwing the cravat onto the floor.
Lizzie rolled over and snuggled against his chest. His arm circled her shoulder and kept her close. “I’m attending the Ramsays’ masquerade two nights from now. I’m dressing as Queen Elizabeth with a blue satin mask if you wish to seek me out.”
“I will find you.”
Her heart warmed at his words, and as the clock chimed the late hour she sighed, sitting up. “I need to go before I’m missed. Will you help me dress?”
He slid his hand over her bare back, following the line of her spine and making her shiver. “I would like you to stay.”
Lizzie turned to look at him and grinned. “I think we both know that cannot happen, but we’ll meet again. In two days in fact, and I shall reserve the first waltz if you wish.”
Hugo sat up, pushing her hair over her shoulder to pool across her breast before kissing her nape. “I should not miss it for the world.”
Chapter 14
If Lord Wakely was a rogue, Lizzie most definitely was fast. She grinned and continued her stroll through Hyde Park, her maid a short distance behind her immersed in a booklet about the different plant species found in England. Lizzie looked up between the green leaves of the trees, and breathed deep the fresh air and warm dappled sunlight. From the moment she’d left Hugo’s bed the other night, the world had seemed brighter somehow, more alive and vivid.
And she was a fallen woman, well and truly, and for some illogical reason she was pleased by the knowledge. Maybe because after what they shared they were a little more even in their knowledge. The fact that she’d seduced him in the end too had taken the choice out of his lordship’s hands. Seizing what she wanted had brought pride to her soul. Never before had she been so bold or determined, and now that she’d lain with Hugo she wanted nothing more than to do it again.
Be damned the consequences.
“Good afternoon, Miss Doherty. How providential to run into you here at the park.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach and she clasped her abdomen to calm her nerves. “Lord Wakely,” she said, dipping into a curtsy. “It is lovely to see you again.”
Although they would see each other this evening at the masked ball, the last two days had been endless. Lizzie had debated seeking his lordship out once more, but in the end decided against it. Even if they were lovers, she didn’t wish him to think she was so desperate for his touch that she couldn’t wait thirty-six hours. She needed him to want her as much as she wanted him. He was the one who needed to fall in love with her, ask for her hand in marriage, and somehow come up with a plan that would solve his money troubles without having to marry an heiress.
“Are you looking forward to the ball tonight, my lord?” A wicked gleam entered the viscount’s eyes and Lizzie chuckled.
“I am. Very much so.” They walked on and the answering smile from Hugo told Lizzie he understood her meaning. She leaned toward him to ensure privacy. “Where shall we meet?”
His eyes warmed with appreciation and desire. He placed her hand atop his arm and continued to stroll. “Sir Ramsay’s home has two servant staircases. Use the one closest to the ballroom. If you go into the entrance hall, under the guise of using the retiring room, and turn toward the back of the house, the staircase is to your right. I will wait for you on the stairs.”
“And then what?” Lizzie met Hugo’s eyes, and the heat she read in them left her in no doubt as to what they would do after that. Although she would like to hear it nevertheless.
“I shall lead you up to one of the guest bedrooms, where I shall strip every article of clothing from your person. I shall kiss every inch of your body and bring you to pleasure using nothing but my mouth,” he whispered against her ear, the breath of his words making her shiver.
Heat suffused her cheeks, but she dismissed her embarrassment, too enthralled with the thought of what he was going to do. What could he possibly mean? She thought on his words a moment and couldn’t figure out what it meant, but even so, it would prove to be a delicious night if he made her feel anything like she did two nights ago.
“Is what you’re saying even possible?” She had to know, wanted a visual to look forward to until they met this evening. And Lord Wakely could kiss very well, his mouth was most talented, so he probably could do what he promised if he remained determined.
“You shall be pleasantly surprised by what my mouth can do with the help of my tongue.”
Oh, my…
“And in return you shall pleasure me with yours if you like.”
Lizzie shut her mouth with a snap as a myriad of thoughts entered her mind. And if her thoughts were correct, well, how scandalous. How cocooned she’d lived, having no idea that couples even did such a thing.
She checked to see the location of her maid, sighing in relief when she found her engrossed in her book and a safe distance away from them. “How is that even possible?” she whispered, intrigued.
“Think on it and tonight you can tell me if you figured it out.” Hugo stepped back and bowed. “Until this evening, Miss Doherty.”
Lizzie curtsied. “Good day, Lord Wakely.” She watched him walk away, annoyed a little at his refusal to tell her what she wanted to know. He looked back at her and grinned over his shoulder, and excitement thrummed through her blood. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough. Turning about, she summoned her maid to return home. She needed to take a bath and get ready. And maybe sneak down to the library and try to find out for herself what Hugo meant about the pleasure a woman could give a man using her mouth. There had to be something to explain his cryptic taunt.
By the time Hugo arrived, the ball was in full swing and the room was full to capacity. The hundreds of wax candles above the ballroom floor were surrounded by a smoke haze thanks to the men who were enjoying their cigars and cheroots, discussing politics or horses while watching the dancers and society at play.
Being sociable wasn’t on Hugo’s mind this evening, but having Lizzie again was. It was all he’d thought about the last two days. After seeing her this afternoon he was without doubt that he cared for her more than anyone ever in his life. He longed to talk with her, to walk as they had in the park, to confide and trust in her, not just have her warm his bed.
But as to actually marrying her, he was still undecided. So much hung on his decision. He now had only days left before he would lose his mother’s fortune, leaving him with little to run the estates. Miss Fox strode past him, her black silk gown and mask suiting her dark nature. She nodded her head in greeting and he bowed, watching her. If he married Miss Fox all his troubles would be over. He would keep his fortune, and his estates would be safe. But Lizzie would be lost to him. He ran a hand over his jaw. There had to be another way to keep his estates afloat. But how?
Never in his life had he hated his father as much as he hated him now.
He spied his quarry in a sapphire gown, the blue of her mask bringing out the color of her eyes. The large ornate collar and her red hair made it easy to figure out he’d found his queen. She stood beside her mother, who had obviously decided not to wear a costume. The small upturn of Lizzie’s lips told him she’d spied him as well, and warmth spread through his blood. Without delay he headed in her direction.
He bowed before them. “Good evening, Mrs. Doherty, Miss Doherty,” he said. “I wonder, Miss Doherty, if you would care to dance. I believe the next set is to be a waltz.”
“I would love to dance, thank you, Lord Wakely.” Lizzie took his arm, not giving her mother any consideration as he led her out onto the floor. He twirled her into his arms just as the music started, she laughed at being handled so.
Lizzie was the most delightful creature he’d ever met, carefree and honest. Panic seized him at the thought that he adored her and yet might not be able
to keep her for himself. Not if he couldn’t find a solution to his problem.
She fitted him so perfectly, in so many ways, that he couldn’t help but wonder why it was that he’d never really seen her before. Before his father had passed. Had he done so, had his sire seen him marry, he would never have punished him with the clause in the will that now stood. He would’ve been happy for Hugo, happy the title had a future and the possibility of heirs. In all truth, the reason he was in this predicament was solely due to his own selfishness and refusal to grow up.
“Has anyone ever told you, Lord Wakely, that you dance divinely?”
He maneuvered them around other couples with expert ease. “They may have, but yours is the first opinion that I’ve cared to hear.”
“You flatter me, my lord.” She smiled up at him. Something in his chest ached and he couldn’t help but grin back at the little minx.
“I do flatter you because you deserve to be flattered. Tonight, tomorrow, and all the days that follow.” Her startled expression caught him unawares, possibly as unaware as his own words. Next he’d be quoting poetry and writing love sonnets to her. The idea didn’t wholly disgust him, and that in itself was telling.
Shit, he cared for Lizzie, more than he’d ever cared for anyone. The overwhelming need to know that she was well, happy, and safe overrode all his other concerns, even those regarding his estates and tenants. How would he ever give her up simply so he could keep his fortune?
“You should not say such things, or I’ll start to think you’re a romantic like Lord Byron.”
He pulled her closer than he ought, fighting the urge to wrench her hard against his chest and never let her go. “Not ever will I be as bad as Lord Byron.”
Lizzie moved perfectly in tune with him, and the feel of her silk gown sliding beneath his hand reminded him of their night of passion. Her gloved hand on his shoulder tightened a little and he met her gaze, wishing he could drown in her deep blue eyes.
