Lords of Passion

by Virginia Henley

  “Which is one of the reasons why you agreed to marry me.”

  Nicholas held her gaze. “That’s true. I’m glad we can speak openly of it. I would hate to think I had deceived you in any way.”

  “Oh, I was not deceived.” Louisa stood up and walked across to her dressing table. She pretended to fiddle with the clasp of her bracelet. “Not at all. I knew exactly what you wanted from me.”

  She jumped as he appeared in the mirror behind her and took her hand. He leaned in close to finagle the bracelet clasp open. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist and then the center of her palm. “Is that one of the reasons why you don’t ask me for anything?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He kissed her throat and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her back against his chest and torso. She found herself looking at herself in the mirror, his dark head close to hers, his blue eyes intent. “You don’t ask me to buy you things; you don’t ask for jewelry, or lap dogs, or a larger dress allowance.”

  She frowned at his reflection. “I have everything I need.”

  His smile was full of sweetness. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a woman say that before. I obviously married a saint.”

  “I’m not a saint, I was just brought up differently.”

  “And thank God for that.” His teeth grazed her ear and settled over her earlobe, then slowly bit down. She shivered and realized she could feel the hard pulse of his arousal through the thin silk of her gown. “But what can I give you, if you want for nothing?”

  “Your company?” she whispered. “Your interest?”

  His mouth left her ear, and he kissed his way down her neck to her shoulder. He trailed his index finger along the edge of her bodice. “Oh, you have my interest. In truth, at dinner I wondered whether your nipples were still hard for me.” Louisa gasped as his fingertip delved beneath the silk of her bodice and past the stiff barrier of her corset. “Ah yes, they still are.”

  Before she could reply, he turned her away from the mirror and sat her on the couch. He came down beside her, trapping her into the corner between his hands and his body. “I wanted to touch you, to have you sit on my lap and let me fondle you.”

  “In the dining room?”

  “Yes, in front of the servants. Luckily, I restrained myself and decided to bring you up here instead.”

  Louisa struggled with the desire to simply lie back and let him touch her, but unfortunately, her passion for honesty wouldn’t allow it. “Why are you being like this, with me?”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  He regarded her seriously for a long moment. “Because a very good friend of mine pointed out to me today that you aren’t just my wife, but a woman.”

  “I’ve always been a woman.”

  “I know that, but…” he hesitated. “I fear I labeled you as ‘wife.’ ”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about, and I’m not sure if I appreciate you discussing me with someone else.” Even as she spoke she was guiltily aware that she’d spoken to April about Nicholas as well, but at least she’d tried to be discreet.

  “I can assure you that my friend will not gossip about us.” He took her hand. “Will you please forgive me, and let me carry on kissing you? We have a lot of lost time to make up.”

  Louisa looked doubtfully at him. “I suppose that will be all right, but …” His mouth descended over hers, and she forgot what she had been about to say as he took his time kissing her. She learned how to breathe through her nose to prolong the intimate contact, how to use her tongue against his to drive him wild. He was almost on top of her now, one leg drawn over hers, the hardness of his cock pressed against her hip. Strange things were happening low in her belly, and her breasts ached for his touch.

  He drew back and stared down at her. “While I sat there imagining you on my lap during dinner, I also imagined tasting more than your breasts. Will you let me remove your gown?”

  Louisa barely managed a nod as he sat up and maneuvered her around so that her back faced him. She closed her eyes and let the dress slide from her shoulders, heard the soft hiss of the silk, the sudden catch of his breath.

  “Stand up a moment and step out of the gown.” She obeyed him and waited as he tossed the swathe of blue silk over the nearest chair. A sudden chill swept through her, but it wasn’t just from the cold. “Would you object if I removed my coat and waistcoat?”

  This time she shook her head and watched him strip off his outer garments. It reminded her of the earlier moment in their shared dressing room when he’d bent over her in the bath. Her nipples tightened even more and she had an absurd desire to touch herself there, to soothe that promise of heat and the ache of desire.

  He knelt at her feet and guided her back down onto the couch. He was so much taller that even when she was sitting his face was almost level with hers. She studied his thick brown hair and narrowed blue eyes, the hint of desire that both softened and hardened his face, as if a stranger lurked behind the amiable visage she saw every day. A harder, more brutal man, and a man who took what he wanted when he wanted it. He reminded her of someone …

  He touched her knee, his hand heavy and hot over the thin muslin of her shift and stockings. “May I remove your corset? It will be in the way.”

  Louisa wanted to ask him of what, but she turned sideways on the seat to allow him access to the spiral binding of her corset. His fingers moved deftly against her back, and she was soon able to breathe again. She looked warily down at him as he placed his hands on her waist and settled her back against the couch.

  “As I was saying, at dinner I was contemplating all the places I had yet to touch or taste you.” He leaned against her knees and kissed her breast through the sheer muslin.

  Louisa managed to clear her throat. “I believe you have already touched and tasted me there.” She couldn’t believe how prim she sounded. He must think her a complete fool. He looked up at her, and she saw nothing to indicate he thought her stupid. In truth, he was looking at her as if he might possibly devour her. It was quite exhilarating.

  “I’m just reacquainting myself with my newest territory before moving on.” He sucked on her nipple until Louisa found her fingernails digging into her palms. “I have to make sure that I am welcome and well remembered.”

  While he touched her, he also moved against her, exerting gentle pressure on her knees until she had no choice but to open them and allow his upper body to press against her in a most intimate fashion. He continued to suckle at her nipples, his fingers testing and touching everything his mouth was not. Her hand stole into his hair, and she held on as he sucked on her, the rhythm lending itself to the sway of her body, and to the motion of her hips as she rubbed herself against his stomach.

  She moaned as one of his hands slid around her hips and he spread his fingers over her bottom, moaned even more when he drew away from her, leaving her wet shift clinging to her hard tight nipples and to the junction of her thighs. He looked down at her and smiled, cupped her between the legs in the palm of his hand. “That’s better.”

  He took her mouth, his tongue plunging inside. The heel of his hand pressed in the same pattern of advance and retreat on her sex. Heat throbbed and flowered beneath the hard edge of his hand, making her forget about anything but the need for him to continue, for him never to stop, for him to keep her on that brink of pleasure that had suddenly become more necessary to her than breathing, or dignity, or civility.

  * * *

  Nicholas made a growling sound in his throat and stripped the muslin away from her sex, needing the contact of her bare skin against his hand. He groaned as his fingers dipped into her swollen wetness, swirled around her tight hot bud, and dipped inside her. She was moving with him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, into his scalp. He didn’t care; he wanted to make her come for him more than anything he had ever wanted before.

  God, but he
needed to taste all that hot wetness as well. He swallowed at the thought and knew he had to have her before she shattered in his arms. It took all his strength to wrench away from her kisses, to not kiss her breasts, and to settle his head between her thighs. She smelled divine, so wet and wanton that he forgot she was his wife, forgot everything but the urge to lick and suckle and bite her into complete submission.

  He drove his tongue deep twice and then withdrew, swirled around her swollen lips, the hard bud of her clit. He licked her and sampled her until he could no longer see or taste anything but her, until even the pain as she tugged at his hair was dimmed by the spectacle of her pushing herself in his face, until he was drowning in her and not caring at all.

  “Nicholas.” She sounded as desperate as he felt, her voice high. “Please …”

  He managed to slide three fingers inside her, used his mouth and his thumb on her clit and took her over into pleasure, felt the waves of it throb and ebb around his embedded fingers, wanted to shove his cock into her to experience it more deeply. God, his cock … He was going to come in his pantaloons if he didn’t get some relief soon. He wanted her mouth, her sex, his shaft between her breasts covering her in his seed …

  Nicolas slowly opened his eyes and sat back. Louisa was just staring down at him, her legs still open, her nipples still hard. His cock protested as he slowly eased away from her.

  “Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly. Nicholas could only stare back at his disheveled wife and yearn.

  “Nicholas?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Louisa scrambled to sit up and pull down her shift as Nicholas remained crouched in front of her, a peculiarly desperate expression on his face. Was he disgusted by her? Had she somehow behaved inappropriately? She hadn’t even realized women were capable of doing “that,” let alone that it would prove so liberating.

  His smile was strained, and one of his hands rested over his groin. Louisa couldn’t help but stare at the thick bulge of his cock and the wetness that marred the front of his pantaloons. She might have achieved that glorious state of release, but had Nicholas? And if not, how on earth was she supposed to ask him what to do next?

  “Are you sure you are all right?”

  He grimaced as he managed to get to his feet, still protecting his groin as if he were fielding close to the wicket in a game of cricket. “I’ll be fine.”

  He sank down next to her and fumbled with the buttons of his pantaloons. “I apologize if this might shock you, but I need to …”

  She couldn’t help but stare as he shoved down his pantaloons and smallclothes to reveal his swollen cock. Had she ever seen it before, like this, erect and in the candlelight? If so, she had probably shut her eyes, but now she was intrigued. His shaft was thick with a swollen purplish crown that was wet. She leaned toward him as she smelled the salty tang of his seed. That at least was familiar.

  Nicholas wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft and sighed. “Don’t look if you don’t want to, I’m not trying to shock you, I just need …” He started to move his hand, the motion jerky and abrupt, violent almost. She moved closer. He studied her through narrowed eyes. “Either help me or move back; at this point I care not.”

  He sounded quite desperate, as desperate as she had felt just before he’d made her world fly apart. She added her fingers to his, flinched at the heat of his flesh, the hardness beneath the softness, the way his skin moved over the whole. He groaned and guided her into a fast rhythm, his hips joining into the thrust and pull of their fingers, his mouth tightening, his eyes closing.

  With a hoarse cry, he grabbed her other hand and placed it palm down over the top of his shaft. Louisa held still as she felt the hot wetness of his seed cover and overflow her fingers. It took several moments before Nicholas collapsed back onto the seat and covered his eyes. He was breathing hard as if he’d been in a race.

  Experimentally, she moved her hands, felt his now diminished shaft twitch beneath her questing fingers, and the thickness of his seed drip through her fingers.

  “Take this.” He gave her his handkerchief and she carefully wiped her fingers and then patted helpfully at his groin where the black curls were now as wet as her own. As she worked, his shaft jerked against her hand and she paused to observe it.

  Nicholas gave a short laugh. “He wants more, I think, so don’t tempt him with your clever hands.”

  “More? Didn’t we just…” Louisa didn’t know quite where to look, at his expanding shaft or into his eyes, both seemed equally dangerous.

  “I’ve always been quick to recover.”

  Which was probably why he’d been so popular with the ladies of the ton. Louisa handed him back his handkerchief and wrapped her arms around her raised knees. Is that what he’d resorted to doing after visiting her bed?

  Used his own hands to pleasure himself while she slept on in blissful ignorance of the pleasure she might’ve been having?

  He sighed. “What’s wrong, Louisa? Have I shocked you immeasurably?”

  She managed to smile. “No, it was all… quite fascinating. I didn’t know …” She stopped speaking and simply gazed into his eyes. Who had been hurt most? Her for being so ignorant, or him for depriving them both of such pleasure? She wasn’t sure, didn’t even want to think about all their wasted opportunities at that point. One thing she did know was that she was never going back, that she would embrace her newfound knowledge and not be ashamed.

  “I’m glad I gave you pleasure,” she whispered.

  He surprised her by lifting her into his arms and walking her across to her bed. He pulled back the covers and deposited her in the middle. For one wild second he hesitated, and she hoped he’d get in with her, but he drew back and rebuttoned his pantaloons. “Thank you for allowing me to share your joy.”

  Louisa clutched at the covers and suddenly felt awkward. What exactly did you say to a man who had made you lose all sense of propriety and scream his name, even if he was your husband? “I wouldn’t have known it existed without you.”

  His smile was warm as he patted her knee. “Better than a book?”

  She swallowed hard. She’d forgotten that she was a challenge, that he had something to prove, and that he was determined to seduce her. “Messier.”

  He chuckled and kissed her mouth. “Thank goodness. If you can still joke with me—I didn’t shock you too badly. Go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. I believe we have a ball to attend at my sister’s tomorrow evening.”

  His ability to return to making casual conversation after he’d simply shattered her world was breathtaking—

  but then the experience hadn’t exactly been new to him, had it? She struggled to keep smiling. “Indeed we do. Good night.”

  He blew her a kiss as he walked away, his coat and waistcoat slung over his arm. She managed to keep the smile on her face until he gently shut the door, before she sank down into the pillows and pulled the covers over her head. Her body was still tingling from the attentions of his hands and mouth, her nipples hard. Her hand drifted down to her sex, and she found she was still wet, still wanting. She imagined a naked Nicholas leaning over her as he slid his thick length deep inside her … Whatever he thought of her, she knew it would happen again, and that it would always be different, because her body finally understood what it had been created for—to accept a man. Perhaps her mother had been right about that after all …

  With a sigh, Louisa curled onto her side and stared into the darkness. Nicholas was probably already asleep without a care in the world, one step closer to achieving his aim of proving himself better than any fictional pirate could ever be. Hadn’t he known that anyway, and if not, why? Had she been so concerned about not asking him for everything, of not bothering him that she’d neglected to ask if there was any possibility that he might come to love her?

  Chapter Five

  Louisa smiled nervously at Nicholas as she sat opposite him in the carriage on the way to the ball. He was dressed in a
black coat, gray waistcoat, and white pantaloons. His cravat sported a black onyx pin that caught the feeble light inside the comfortable carriage. He appeared relaxed, one arm braced on the back of the seat, his feet touching hers.

  “You look very nice, my dear.”

  She glanced down at the deep rose of her low bodice and instinctively sucked in her stomach. “Do you think so? April assured me that this color was not only fashionable but that it suited me as well.”

  He studied her for a long while, almost as if he hadn’t ever really looked at her before. It was quite disconcerting, especially as he had recently lavished his attention on parts of her that no other human being had viewed since she was a small child. “April was right. The color is perfect on you.” He winked. “It’s strange that someone who has such appalling taste in decorating has such immaculate style, don’t you think?”

  Louisa couldn’t help but smile back at him. “April has been very kind to me.”

  “I should imagine she’s simply glad I’ve finally settled down and stopped creating gossip for the ton.”

  “Were you really that bad?”

  His smile died. “When I was younger, yes. I blush to remember some of my more foolish exploits, but luckily I grew up and became far more discriminating in my choices.”

  Louisa eyed him dubiously. She didn’t quite have the nerve to ask him either about his conquests or about his current arrangements. Her mother insisted he would still keep a mistress for Louisa’s sake and that she should be grateful he refrained from exposing her to the more bestial side of his nature.

  The thought of him turning to another woman brought a strange tightness to her chest. Was that what he’d been trying to tell her before? That a wife was not required to behave like a woman who enjoyed sex? Could it be possible that he agreed with her mother? But no, he had touched her far more intimately last night, and she’d welcomed the intimacy, not recoiled from it.

  “I think we’re here,” Nicholas announced, and reached for his hat and gloves. “Do you have a shawl, my dear? It is perishing cold out there.”