How to Catch an Errant Earl

by Amy Rose Bennett

  “Come.” Gabriel entwined his long fingers with hers and led her toward the doors of her suite. He ran his thumb lightly over the inside of her wrist, and even that small, teasing touch made Arabella’s skin tingle. “Truth be told, I can’t wait to introduce you to the delights of sexual congress. Or as I like to call it, bed sport.”

  Bed sport. Arabella hadn’t expected Gabriel to describe the act they were about to engage in as making love—neither of them felt such a tender emotion for the other—so it would be a lie to apply it. But the term bed sport seemed too trifling, an almost dismissive term that implied their physical union was a mere amusement. An activity of little consequence. Arabella bit back a small sigh. For him it might be, but for her . . . she was about to lose her virginity to a man she desired but barely knew.

  At least Gabriel hadn’t used a crude term for what they were about to do.

  She trusted he would try to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for her. As she’d told him, she knew what was involved from a technical perspective. Hopefully the lust he so easily brought to life inside her would reduce the discomfort she was bound to feel when he took her maidenhead.

  They paused by the side of the sumptuous four-poster bed. The counterpane of dusky blue silk figured with embroidered ivory roses, and the fine cotton sheets and pillows, looked too fine and pristine to disturb. Arabella’s chest felt tight. She was suddenly so nervous, she could barely breathe or bring herself to look at Gabriel.

  Keeping her eyes fixed on the delicate floral carvings in the satinwood headboard, she said, “When penetration commences and you breach my hymen, it will no doubt be uncomfortable, perhaps even painful for me.” She was trying to be matter-of-fact, but she was so embarrassed, her words began to tumble out in a great rush. “However, I suspect that if we can manage to achieve a sufficient amount of lubrication to ease your passage and reduce the friction . . .” She started toward the dressing room. “I have a particular ointment in my medical bag that might help. I’ll just go and fetch it . . .”

  Gabriel followed and caught her hand, staying her. “We won’t need that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He gave her a wicked smile. “I’m positive.”

  She nodded and her attention flitted back to the bed.

  “Arabella. Look at me.”

  With an effort, she met Gabriel’s gaze.

  The expression in his eyes had softened, reminding her of moss green velvet. “I promise you that I’ll be as gentle as I can be. I like to think my skills as a lover will bring you pleasure. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

  Arabella nodded stiffly. “I don’t doubt your expertise will come in handy. I’m just . . .” She worried at her lower lip. How could she say he was the most sexually magnetic man she’d ever met, but she feared she wasn’t good enough? That she might fail to meet his expectations? “I know this was my idea, to do this. However, despite my curiosity and . . . and desire for you, now that the moment is upon me, I’m all at sea. I’m worried I won’t be any good at this compared to—” She broke off; she didn’t really want to talk about all the other women he’d bedded in the past, so she said, “You’re so worldly and I am not . . .”

  “Arabella.” He lifted her chin with gentle fingers, and she couldn’t escape his gaze. “There’s no one here but you and me, and I’ve wanted you from the first moment we met. Indeed, part of the reason I kept my distance this past week is that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.” He tilted his hips forward, and she realized he spoke the truth when the evidence of his arousal brushed against her belly. His thumb caressed her bottom lip as he murmured, “If your kisses are anything to go by, I have no doubt at all you will be very good at this. We’ll take things slowly, all right?”

  She exhaled shakily. “All right.”

  “Excellent.” Gabriel brushed a finger down her nose. “May I take your glasses off and then let your hair down?”

  “Yes . . .”

  After he’d carefully removed her spectacles and placed them on the bedside table, he patted the gilt back of an elegant shepherdess chair. “Sit here and I will play lady’s maid.”

  Arabella subsided into the seat and closed her eyes as her husband slowly but surely removed the hairpins taming her curls. Gabriel’s touch was light and deft, and within a few minutes, her hair cascaded about her shoulders and down her back.

  “Beautiful.” Gabriel ran his fingers through the thick, riotous mass, and as he bent his head to her ear, she caught his rich masculine scent—musk and spice and citrus. “I can’t wait to see this and nothing else draped about you.”

  Oh, my goodness.

  Sweeping her hair to one side, he grazed a kiss along her jaw. “It’s time to get undressed, Bella.”

  Bella? No one had ever called her Bella. Before she could think further on it, Gabriel was kneeling at her feet, sliding off her slippers. Lifting her skirts, he then proceeded to tug her ribbon garters loose before slowly rolling down each stocking. Delicious tremors of anticipation shimmered over her skin wherever his fingers brushed.

  Once her legs were bare, he stood and encouraged her to rise with him. Catching her against his body, her back to his front, he pressed kisses to her temple and the curve of her ear. Then her neck. The slide of his hot mouth made her shiver, and liquid heat bloomed low in her belly. She could feel the jut of his engorged penis against her bottom.

  Then his clever fingers were everywhere, tugging at the fastenings of her gown, stays, and petticoat until everything was loose and sagging open and sliding to the carpeted floor.

  With nothing on but her new necklace and flimsy shift, Arabella felt vulnerable indeed.

  Gabriel’s large hands skimmed over her rib cage to cup her breasts. “They’re just as I imagined,” he whispered against her fevered cheek. “Firm, and round, and they fill my palms perfectly.” Through the fine lawn of her shift, he caught her nipples between his fingers, pinching them before tugging gently. Arabella gasped as desire sparked, hot and bright. She squirmed against Gabriel’s hard, lean body and he groaned. The deep, throaty rumble seemed to reverberate through her.

  “Sweet Jesus, Bella. If you keep that up, I’ll be coming in my breeches like a green boy.”

  She smiled and turned her head to the side. “You say just the right things to make me feel better.”

  “Remember, I’ll only ever tell you the truth. And I’m sure you can feel how much I want you.” He spun her around and caught her mouth in a brief, but searing kiss. “I’m desperate for you.”

  Gabriel pulled at the tie securing the neckline of her shift, and within moments, the gossamer garment had puddled on the floor with her other clothes.

  The slow, deliberate sweep of Gabriel’s gaze over her naked body made her nipples tighten into hard, aching points, and her belly did an odd little flip. Even though his green eyes were shielded by his long dark lashes, Arabella gained the distinct impression he liked what he saw . . . especially when his wide mouth curved into the most sinful smile she’d ever seen.

  “Bella . . . I’m in awe.” Gabriel’s deep voice was hoarse yet soft, his expression reverent. He reached up and brushed a finger over one of her taut nipples. “You’ll be lucky if I ever let you put clothes on again.”

  Arabella was sure she blushed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Surely he couldn’t mean that. She lifted her hair and touched the diamond and emerald necklace. “Will you help me take this off?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.” He traced along her collarbone with the tip of one finger, raising gooseflesh. “I like seeing it around your pretty neck. I find it quite arousing to see you thus.”

  Oh. Arabella swallowed. Her throat was tight with a strange combination of nerves and longing. “I think it’s a trifle unfair that I am wearing nothing at all, but you are almost ful
ly dressed.” She reached out to undo the buttons of his brocade silk waistcoat and he stayed her hand.

  “Not so fast, sweetheart,” he purred. “There are other things I want to do with you first.” And then he was kissing her, his mouth hot and hungry; his hands slid around her back and cupped her buttocks, urging her hips forward so that her sex was pressed up against his steel-hard erection.

  Gripping Gabriel’s wide shoulders, Arabella moaned as she submitted to his ravaging kisses. The yearning ache inside her was growing, and she knew her body craved more.

  As though in tune with her rising need, Gabriel walked her back toward the bed and then pushed her down onto the soft mattress. Taking his weight on one forearm, he stared down at her, his eyes hooded, his gaze smoldering with dark green fire.

  “You have no idea what you do to me,” he grated out. “I’ve never been so consumed with desire.” He buried his face in her neck, dragging his teeth along the tendon below her ear. “I need to slow down, but God help me, I don’t know if I can.”

  Arabella touched shaking fingers to his sharply cut jaw. “Take your waistcoat and shirt off, Gabriel. I want to touch you.”

  “In a minute.” Gabriel bent his head and licked one of her nipples, and Arabella’s whole body jolted as though she’d been struck by a sizzling bolt of electricity.

  Oh, my God. That felt so—All thought disintegrated as Gabriel covered her other nipple with his mouth and suckled delicately. Then he transferred his attention to the other breast again, tormenting her with rapid flicks of his wicked tongue before drawing on her with a long slow suck.

  Spearing her fingers into his hair, Arabella arched her back, flagrantly pushing herself into the hot cavern of his mouth. She never imagined torture could be so exquisite. So all-consuming. Her body was aflame, her sex pulsing in time with the desperate throb of her heart.

  When Gabriel dragged his mouth away, an involuntary mewl of protest escaped her. “Climb up to the head of the bed.” His voice was little more than a rough, low growl as he ripped at the buttons of his waistcoat with jerky movements.

  Arabella complied with his request, settling onto the plump pillows. She was about to pull the counterpane over her body when Gabriel moved closer and caught her wrist. “Don’t hide from me, Bella. I want to see you. All of you.”

  She nodded, unable to resist the raw tone of his command or the blatant lust in his gaze. Seeing him in such a state of acute need sent a dark thrill coursing through her body. And then a frisson of fear as she realized his power over her was so great, she’d be hard-pressed to deny him anything.

  He straightened, and heedless of the injury to his shoulder, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it away in one fluid movement.

  Even though Arabella had already seen his naked torso, she found herself riveted to the sight of him. The swell of hard, lean muscles. The rigid lines of bone and sinew beneath sleek flesh. The smattering of dark hairs across his chest and the intriguing hawk’s head tattoo on his right bicep. Her fingers twitched at the memory of touching him. It was hard to believe she had tended to his injury without melting into a puddle at his feet.

  Within a flash, he’d also made short work of his black Hessian boots and hose. And then he began to release the button fastenings of his pantaloons . . . The form-fitting ivory fabric left little to the imagination, but even so, as the fall front came undone, Arabella couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his erect manhood as it sprang forth from its nest of tight black curls.

  She swallowed and clutched the silk counterpane. Gabriel was going to put that enormous organ inside her?

  “I can see you’re shocked by the sight of me,” he said after he’d removed every last stitch.

  “I . . . you’re quite a fine male specimen,” she whispered. His thighs were heavily muscled, dusted in fine black hair. His hips were lean, and the plane of his belly as taut as a drum. “I must say, I’m quite impressed by the size of your . . .” She gestured helplessly toward his groin.

  His eyes glinted wickedly. “My cock?” Climbing onto the bed, he began to crawl toward her like a beast about to devour her.

  She blushed hotly. Though part of her couldn’t deny that the crude term aptly described that part of his anatomy. “Yes.”

  “I promise I’ll be as gentle as I can when I enter you.” He settled alongside her, propping himself on one elbow. His beautiful, hard body felt as hot as a furnace as it pressed against her naked skin. His leg hairs tickled her inner thighs as he used his knee to nudge her legs apart.

  Cushioned by a soft bank of pillows, Arabella stared up into Gabriel’s handsome face, framed by its cloud of black curls. Up this close, she wished she could see him better. The expression in his eyes. She lifted a hand and placed it against his lean cheek. “I believe you.”

  Gabriel groaned, pressing himself into her palm. “Your touch excites me, Bella.”

  “It does?” She slid her hand lower and ran her fingers through his chest hair.

  When she grazed one of his nipples, the little bronze nub furled tight, and he groaned again. “Yes . . . Hell, yes . . . touch me wherever and however you want.”

  Her husband’s invitation was impossible to resist. Curiosity at last overcoming her timidity, Arabella skimmed her fingertips down Gabriel’s rib cage and over one lean hip bone to cup his buttock. Then she gasped.

  Her fingertips had encountered scar tissue. A raised, jagged line puckering the skin on Gabriel’s firm rump.

  “What happened to you?” she breathed.

  “It’s only an old war wound. I was shot at Waterloo. I’ll admit it was difficult to sit for a while but it doesn’t bother me anymore.”

  Arabella frowned. “How awful. And yes, painful.” Judging by the size of the scar, the bullet must have done more than a wee bit of damage. “I’m glad nothing vital was injured.”

  Gabriel’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Well, my pride was, but I eventually got over that too.”

  Arabella slid her hand back to his hip. She was beginning to notice her husband sometimes used humor to hide how he really felt. She wanted to delve deeper, learn more about his past, but now didn’t really seem like quite the right time. Not when she and Gabriel were both naked in bed and his rampant arousal kept nudging her.

  She decided to resume her exploration of her husband’s beautiful body. Holding her breath, she dared to wrap her fist around his manhood. As hard as iron yet encased in hot velvet, it seemed to pulse between her fingers. With her other hand, she gently rolled the tightly bunched testicles beneath, and he swore beneath his breath.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” Gabriel gritted out from between clenched teeth. “Don’t be afraid to explore. I won’t break.”

  Emboldened by his words, Arabella gave his shaft an experimental squeeze and he groaned, low and deep. “Oh, God, Bella. I want you so much.” In the next instant, Gabriel was kissing her again, his tongue pushing into her mouth, stroking and tasting. His fingers plucked at one of her nipples before tracing a teasing path across her hips and then down her belly until they feathered through the blond curls covering her sex.

  Arabella’s breath quickened as the tip of one wicked finger slipped into the hidden furrow between her thighs. He’d been right. They wouldn’t need to apply any sort of ointment.

  “Yes, Bella, yes,” crooned Gabriel against her mouth. “You’re so slick. Wet with desire. Open your legs. Let me tease you. Just there. Yes?”

  Oh, yes. How did he know that little hooded nub at the apex of her sex—her clitoris—was so excruciatingly sensitive and exactly the place she wanted him to touch? Arabella moaned as he tormented the spot with the pad of his finger, circling and flicking and delicately rubbing it until she was writhing, parting her legs wider, not caring how wanton she’d suddenly become. She sought Gabriel’s mouth and clung to his wide shoulders as though they were her only anch
or in the wild storm of unfamiliar sensation that seemed to be rapidly engulfing her.

  And then Gabriel slid another agile finger between her feminine folds. It gently probed her virginal entrance before abruptly pushing inside. Arabella immediately stiffened and her eyes flew open. The slight burn of his incursion felt odd but also so very right.

  Gabriel stilled too. “Did I hurt you?” he murmured, catching her gaze. “I can stop.”

  She shook her head. “No. I . . . wasn’t expecting you to . . . to do that just yet.” She swallowed and firmed her voice. “I want this.”

  He brushed a kiss across her lips. “It will help ease my way later if I touch you like this first.”

  “I understand.” She closed her eyes and tilted her hips so Gabriel’s wicked finger slid deeper. The friction was not unpleasant. In fact, Arabella thought she might like it. “Do what you will. I trust you.”

  Gabriel answered her with a tender, lingering kiss before he slid another finger inside her, gently stretching her untried tissue. And then he began to rhythmically stroke her inner softness, curling his fingers as he thrust. All the while his wicked thumb toyed with her clitoris, circling languidly yet steadily.

  As Gabriel played, Arabella soon found she couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge to move her hips. Tiny, uncontrolled gasps and mewls she had no hope of containing kept tumbling from her throat as she rocked mindlessly against Gabriel’s hand. His intimate caresses were driving her mad. Her heart pounded. Her sex pulsed, clenching tighter. She was racing toward something just out of reach. Something wonderful. She moaned as desire flared hotter and brighter, a beckoning, irresistible flame.

  “That’s it, Bella.” Gabriel’s wicked words were a dark whisper in her ear. “Ride my hand. Use me. Let pleasure take you.”

  And then it did. All at once Arabella was soaring. Flying heavenward into blissful abandon. She cried out, and her whole body shuddered and jerked as waves of euphoria washed through her.

  When she’d subsided into a quivering, exhausted mass, Gabriel gathered her against him and nuzzled her neck. Nibbled her earlobe and stroked his hands up and down her back.