The muffled sound of voices could be heard in the distance as they climbed the long, winding staircase. Stimson and the servants were all busy with Talley and his men.
Still in his arms, she opened her bedroom door. Derrick closed the door with a kick, never loosening his hold on her.
The shelter of his arms soothed the strain from the harrowing disaster of the evening. She whispered against his chest, “Lock the door, I don’t want anyone to disturb us.”
He turned and locked the door then carried her to the flaming fire. He slowly allowed her to slide down his hard body. The friction caused her body to throb, heating her from the inside out.
He pressed small love bites to her jaw, her chin, her throat. “Are you sure about this?”
She shivered. He kept kissing her, the damp trail left behind along her neck made her tremble with anticipation. She found it hard to stand, her knees unsteady and shaky.
“Are you sure you don’t want a bath and sleep?”
She had never known desire could cause such bold recklessness. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to live. I’ve waited too long for you. And nothing is going to stop me. No gun-wielding French spy can change how I feel about you. I love you, Derrick.”
His large hands gently framed her face and he kissed her. Not hard and demanding, but tender, slow, and easy.
She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He stroked his thumbs over her face as she traced the seams of his lips. When he opened his mouth, she touched her tongue to his.
He groaned loudly and sealed his mouth over hers, hungry and demanding; as if he wanted to devour her. He thrust his tongue in and out, bringing a rosy flush pleasure to her skin. She sucked on his tongue, holding him in her mouth.
Derrick’s rough moans in response sent electric thrills through her body.
He stroked down her back to her derriere, exploring and squeezing.
She grasped his shoulders tighter and leaned against him.
Her heart beat harder, faster. She wanted to touch him and excite him as he did her. She wanted him on top of her, pressing his heat into her. Eagerness left her breathless.
“May I play your lady’s maid?”
She could barely speak. Her breath came in fits. She nodded.
His desperation to undress her fed her own frantic desire. The surges of his hot breath on her neck and the way his hands shook as he loosened her stays, inflamed her senses. She was ready to combust.
Derrick had her out of her dress and stays faster than Betsy. He turned her so that she stood in front of him in only her chemise.
His eyes smoldering with passion, he ran his finger down her front. His touch, slick on the silk, left a flame of sensations in its wake. “You are beautiful, Amelia Bonnington.”
His fervent study of her body exhilarated her. His broad chest heaving, his eyes bright with excitement, made her feel triumphant and exuberant. Derrick Brinsley needing her was a very heady feeling.
“Do you know how long I’ve fantasized about whether you were red all over?” He asked in a low and husky voice.
Warmth slid down her throat, down her breasts to her stomach and beyond. She was gasping. Did men always talk like this during lovemaking? She couldn’t believe how he fuelled the need and tension in her body.
His hungry gaze and his rough, gravelly voice made her weak behind her knees. She wanted… “I want to see you too. A girl does have her own fantasies.”
Derrick laughed out loud, his wide chest straining against his waistcoat. “I didn’t think proper young ladies had such naughty thoughts.”
She moved closer to unbutton his coat. “I could never be a proper lady when I have four brothers who show no discretion in front of their sister. I’ve heard more jokes about pump handles than any woman should be subjected to. But I did wonder about the size of your pump handle.”
He gulped then took a slow, deep breath, his strong throat undulating.
She felt daring and even brave, wanting to please him. She brazenly lowered her hand down the front of his breeches as she watched his face. She loved the hitch in his breath, the way his nostrils flared when her hand rubbed him. “You have an impressive pump handle.”
“You’re killing me, honey.” He gave a short choke of laughter, then swept her up and carried her to the bed. “Amelia, I’d love for you to explore, but I don’t think I can last.”
He placed her next to the bed and slowly removed her chemise. Chills raced along her skin and made her breasts tighten. Suddenly naked, she felt shy and knew her skin was going to turn an unsightly red, now far more revealed than anyone ever saw.
He took both breasts into his hot hands, massaging, caressing. She was lost to the sensation and to the expression of wonder on his face. He held each breast tightly, then with his thumbs, he toyed with the tips until they grew taut. He bent and took her right breast in his mouth.
She gasped and her legs threatened to turn to noodles. The roaring pulse in her ears and burning desire shooting through her body very nearly carried her utterly away.
He circled the tight bud with his tongue, tugging softly. “You’re so lovely. So perfectly formed.” His tongue flicked the sensitive nipple. “And here.” His wide hand had spread across her stomach as he found her intimate slit.
She couldn’t stand any longer. Her knees buckled.
He lifted her onto the bed. Her already sensitive nipples abraded against his rough waistcoat, causing her lower body to throb and clench.
Derrick shed his clothes quickly, revealing his powerfully potent body. Without his clothes, he seemed bigger, more intimidating. His chest was covered with dark hair that trailed down to his bulging erection. He was ready to couple with her.
She opened her arms to him.
He bent over her. “I’ll never forget this moment, Amelia. You open and wanting me.”
He carefully positioned himself on top of her, keeping his weight on his elbows.
She opened her legs wider, wanting his heat and strength against her. A sweet ache curled inside her with the way his wiry chest hair brushed against her breasts, and his hard length pressed against her mound—they fit together perfectly.
His body shuddered over her. “Amelia, you feel so good.” He nudged his erection against her. She became aware only of the feeling of his hardness against her softness. She pushed against him.
“Oh, honey.” He was winded, his chest heaving. “Not yet.”
He rolled to his side and gathered her next to him. She could feel his heart pounding against her thrashing heart as if they beat as one.
He took her tight nipple into his mouth as he explored her thighs with his rough hand. He teased with his finger into her curls, spreading her intimately.
A vibrating moan escaped his lips. “You’re wet and ready.”
He used his teeth on her nipple, licking, sucking as his finger slipped into her wetness. He slowly thrust his finger into her as he pulled harder on her breast. She was stunned, gasping with exquisite pleasure.
His finger pressed deeper into her, his thumb moving slowly across the sensitive nub. She squirmed and spread her legs wider, unable to stand the pressure building inside her.
Derrick’s thick lashes lowered over his blazing eyes. There was a flush across his cheekbones. “Give into it, honey.” His voice thickened.
She closed her eyes and drifted into the waves of sensation. She emitted a ragged scream as the ecstasy overtook her and quivering tremors wracked her body. Stars burst before her eyes as she spiraled out of control. She couldn’t stop sobbing, as she gulped for air.
Derrick chuckled, his hot breath wafting across her face. “I knew you’d be a screamer.”
He smoothed the hair around her face, kissing her temples, her cheeks, her nose. His look was filled with love. His tender gaze overcame the boneless lethargy trying to steal into her body.
She reached between their bodies to touch him, to bring him the pleasure he had brought her. She wrappe
d her hand around his thick hardness.
Derrick shuddered, his eyes closed. “Oh, honey. Another time. I promise.”
He moved quickly, suddenly looming over her. Panting, he stared into her eyes. “I’m going to be gentle, but I’m afraid it will hurt.” He nudged against her, pressing into her entrance. A sharp pain burned through her with his slow, and hard intrusion. She squirmed against the sting and the invasion.
He stopped and waited, soothing her with his mouth and murmuring words of love, assuring her that he never wanted to hurt her, but he needed her so badly.
She slid her palms down his body and pulled him closer, urging him. “I need you too, Derrick. Now.”
He began to thrust cautiously, but he was losing control in his wild need for her. The pleasure of his sounds made her open to him instinctively, diminishing the discomfort.
She began to rock her hips upward against him. His moan of primal pleasure excited her. She bent her knees, trying to take more of him with each thrust.
His body trembled roughly, a low groan before he thrust fast into her. “I love you,” he shouted, then he let out a loud moan and collapsed on top of her.
She felt the warmth of seed spilling into her.
She squeezed him tight against her, reveling in his pleasure, his hot sweating body pressing her down into the mattress. She finally knew what it felt like to be fully loved by a man.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Standing together, Amelia and Henrietta watched Gwyneth dance with Ash. She had an exuberant smile on her face. Her pale pink gown whispered around her legs as Ash swung her into a turn. With the coral red ribbon under the bodice and the coral red tiara holding her raven curls into a coronet, Gwyneth was as stunning as Amelia had hoped for.
“You outshone yourself with our lovely gowns,” Henrietta said as she unconsciously patted her stomach. “I love this yellow gown and the way it hides my growing bump. It’s perfect—simple, but elegant. You know exactly how to make each of us look special.”
Amelia smiled at her shorter friend. “You look beautiful. Your pregnancy must be agreeing with you. Your skin is no longer gray and you truly are glowing.”
Gowns helped a woman feel attractive, but it was deep joy that glowed in both her friends’ faces making them radiant. Amelia now understood, because she knew she also had the look of a woman who was deeply loved.
“It’s remarkable, but I started feeling miraculously better a few days ago.”
“I’m glad. You did have a rough time,” Amelia said.
A self-satisfied smile spread across Henrietta’s face. “It was awful. I’m very grateful to have finished this phase. But enough of my pregnancy; I’m sure everyone is tired of hearing about my daily difficulties.”
“We all care about you and your baby.”
Henrietta touched her stomach again. “But to finish our discussion about our gowns—you look ravishing in purple. Of course, you don’t call this color anything as mundane as purple.”
Amelia smoothed the lustrous silk floating down from her ribbon-decorated bodice. “This color is zinzolin. The dye is made from sesame seeds.”
“And I called it purple.” Henrietta laughed. “I’m hopeless.”
“I wanted to wear a red dress tonight. Voila—zinzolin, a reddish violet. I had to find a red with enough blue so it wouldn’t clash with my red hair.”
“The zinzolin makes the red in your hair more vibrant and darkens your eyes. You look exotic, especially with transparent sleeves. Quite daring. You’ll start a new fashion.”
“The translucent silk inspired me to try the sleeves. Do you like them?”
“I do, but you know I’m terrible at fashion. But I thought tonight’s dress would have a very low cut décolletage.”
“Derrick asked me to save the low cut dresses for him only. He’s quite possessive and doesn’t want any other man to touch or look at me. I’m sure he’ll relax after we’re married.”
Henrietta snorted. “Men like Derrick and Cord don’t get past their possessiveness. And now that I’m pregnant, Cord has become worse. He doesn’t want me to do my code work. He wants me to spend all my time resting. You just wait. I believe its part of their personalities—a need for control.”
“You’re probably right. Derrick reminds me a lot of my brothers and my father.” Amelia searched the ballroom for Derrick. He stood on the other side in a group with her brothers, and her father. Watching him in his black formal wear standing next to her behemoth brothers and father, he looked totally gorgeous and quite comfortable in the men’s company. The men were all laughing, and Jack punched Derrick in the arm.
“Your father and brothers are like Derrick and Cord—accustomed to dominating other men, and playing the hero to women,” Henrietta said.
“Is Cord totally in control of your marriage?”
Henrietta gave a coy smile. “He’s in control of the most pleasing parts.”
After her passionate night with Derrick, Amelia understood Henrietta’s comment. Derrick had been masterly in his loving, and the memory of his skill in bringing both of them to passion was warming her face. She needed to change the subject or soon she’d be the color of a strawberry.
“Have you been able to return to your work? I’m sure they miss your code-breaking talents.”
“My morning sickness has made work difficult, but I believe I’ve caught up with what’s on my desk. Your discovery of the smuggling ring made a big difference in stopping the French from stealing secrets. You have talents in the spy business.”
“Thank you, but, unlike Gwyneth, I’ve no desire to be part of undercover intrigue. I’m going back to my art and design.”
Henrietta placed her gloved hand on Amelia’s arm. “I’m sorry about Helene. I know she was a friend. It must be difficult to be so betrayed.”
“I’m getting past my hurt and anger. Cord has been very kind, talking with me about the conflict created by my loyalty to Helene and my inability to see through her cover. He’s been very helpful. Thank you, I know you asked him to speak to me.”
“You’re my closest friend and I knew Cord would be able to make more sense of what it’s like to be caught up in intrigue. But what will happen to the shop?”
Amelia’s stomach did somersaults and she felt the blush again creeping up her chest and on her cheeks, remembering, after the second time they made love, how Derrick held her tenderly as they spoke of Helene and Elodie’s future.
“Derrick is giving me the shop as my wedding present. And I’ve hired Elodie to run it. I’ll consult on designs that interest me, but Elodie will do all the main work.”
“How wonderful and how considerate of Derrick.” Henrietta squeezed her arm. “But a woman owning her own business. It’s unheard of.”
“Unheard of, like a woman working as a code breaker?” Amelia and Henrietta laughed together.
“Of course, Derrick would legally own the business.” Which made the ladies laugh more.
Henrietta waved. “There’s Aunt Euphemia. Oh, lord; what is she wearing tonight?”
“I like Aunt Euphemia’s choices.”
“You do not.” Henrietta’s voice was high pitched and incredulous. “You get upset with my choices all the time.”
“I like that Aunt Euphemia is comfortable in her own style. She has a very unusual palette for her color choices, but, if you look in nature, some of her choices are no different.”
Henrietta looked at Amelia as if she weren’t sure if this was a joke or not.
“I’m not joking. Like tonight, she’s wearing fuchsia and green. The fuchsia is more like the French color—a brighter, bluish-red. Aunt Euphemia might like those colors since I’ve seen her wear them many times. I’m not sure if she realizes, but she had matched the colors of her dress to the fuchsia plant. It’s part of the reason I like painting nature because there are no restrictions on our color palette as in the world of fashion.”
Henrietta giggled behind her fan. “Aunt Euphemia defi
nitely dresses as a full garden then.”
Both ladies tittered.
“But who is the beautiful blonde woman and the very brawny man in the kilt with Aunt Euphemia? I don’t remember Gwyneth mentioning anyone from Scotland,” Amelia said.
Henrietta shook her head. “I know everyone invited since Cord and I are hosting the ball. There is no Scottish relative on Cord’s side of the family or none that I know of.”
“Aunt Euphemia is headed this way with the couple.”
Aunt Euphemia’s turban bobbed along. Tonight the turban only sprouted peacock feathers, no nesting birds.
“Henrietta and Amelia, I wanted to introduce you to Laird MacAlister and his lovely wife, Lauren MacAlister.”
Amelia and Henrietta curtsied to the attractive woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Amelia chimed. Henrietta smiled and nodded.
“Lauren grew up next to Brinsley.” Aunt Euphemia looked at Amelia with an expectant look.
Lauren stepped closer to Amelia. “I’m Baron Lyon’s daughter. I was the Marquis of Falconridge’s fiancée.”
Amelia felt like she was in a play, but didn’t know the script. There was silence all around them. The music had stopped playing and everyone was listening.
Lauren looked up into her husband’s face. He looked down affectionately and gave her arm a squeeze. “I’m the woman Derrick helped to escape from a terrible marriage to his brother. He took me to Scotland.”
Shock choked Amelia. She drew a breath, then another.
“And I was fortunate to meet the bonny lass.” Laird Mac Alister beamed. His reddish hair was almost the same shade as Amelia’s.
Stupefied, Amelia watched Derrick moving quickly toward them, taking long strides across the dance floor. Thank goodness the dancing had stopped. His face was inscrutable, tight with an unknown emotion.
The only sound in the ballroom was the hushed conversations taking place in isolated groups around the room. Everyone was watching, waiting for a spectacle. All eyes tracked Derrick’s movement across the floor.
Derrick stepped around Lauren and took Amelia’s arm. “Honey, I want you to meet my childhood friend.”
A Code of the Heart (The Code Breakers Series Book 3) Page 15
