Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club Book 1)

by Samantha Holt

  He let his brow furrow. “She would not let me do anything. Couldn’t even persuade her to have a cold drink.”

  She tilted her head. “You showed her a kindness.”

  “I hope you do not think me that much of a rogue that I would not attend to a lady in distress.”

  “Of course not.” She hesitated. “But I do hope you will not mention anything she said. You can imagine how much scandal such information would cause. Not even her family knows, and they would be heartbroken if they found out.”

  He clutched the drink in his hand and eyed the liquid before throwing it back and savoring the warm burn as it slid down his throat. He placed the glass on a side table and shook his head. “Surely you know me better than that, Merry?”

  Merry looked to the floor then lifted her gaze to his, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Yes, I do.” Before he could quite fathom what was happening, she was in front of him. She put hands to either side of his face and leaned over. “I do know,” she insisted. Her lips grazed his, sending a lightning bolt of sensation through him. He remained frozen. If he moved, he might put an end to all this and he’d be damned if he ruined this moment.

  “I know it all,” she murmured. “I know what a fool I was to keep denying you. I know that you are not who you were when you were younger. I know that you were right about us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Merry drew back to look into Harry’s eyes. She held her breath. He was annoyed with her, and rightly so. She had doubted him over and over, despite knowing the truth. Harry was not the rogue he once was, and even then, he had always been good and kind to her. And with her friends’ blessing, she had no reason to continue denying this to either of them. She kissed him again before drawing back.

  “Do you know that I love you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  Relief nearly overwhelmed her. She laughed and pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “Yes, yes I do.” Lifting her head, she grinned. “And I love you, Harry. So much it hurts. I do not even know how that happened.”

  His lips finally curved into a grin and he smoothed his hands up and down her back. “I do. You bewitched me.”

  She tilted her lips. “I do not think anyone in their right mind would accuse me of being capable of bewitching men.”

  “Perhaps I am not in my right mind.”

  “That sounds more plausible.”

  He pressed his hands under her bottom and eased her onto his lap. His hands came up to cup her face. “I will not take no for an answer again, Merry. You will marry me.”

  She briefly debated teasing him for such an abrupt proposal but did not have it in her. Thank the lord, he had not sent her away. Thank the lord, he still loved her. She gave him a swift kiss instead of replying.

  “Is that a yes?”

  Nodding, she uttered breathlessly, “Yes.”

  A grin cracked across his face. “You will not regret it, Merry.” He pressed his fingers up and around her face to draw her down to him. “I promise you will not regret it.”

  “I know,” she murmured against his lips, allowing herself to become lost in the warm taste of him. She knew it all. As soon as she had heard he’d returned, she’d known...

  She had to try to apologize, she had to hope he still felt the same about her, that he was not too angry at her that he would not forgive her. She’d known she could not live with herself if she passed up the opportunity of a life with Harry. Spinsterhood, it seemed, was not for her after all.

  He groaned when she flattened her palms against his chest and pressed the kiss deeper. Her skin felt itchy, her clothes too hot. The scent of books mingled with his cologne, creating a heady fragrance that almost had her giddy. He kept hold of her face as though he never wanted to let her go while he kissed her over and over, taking everything she could possibly give. She rocked against him, causing another groan to rumble up in his throat. The sound sent skitters through her and made her stomach twist with excitement.

  She broke the kiss and saw the uncertainty in his eyes as she slid off him. She backed away a few steps then smiled, turning her back to him.

  “Help me with the laces, Harry.”

  The muffled sounds of voices in the garden and the sound of her faltering breaths filled the air. She could not bring herself to turn around and face him. Merry pressed her hands to her ribs, willing her breaths to slow. Had she gone too far? Had he changed his mind? Lord, would he not touch her already?

  A creak of a floorboard had her heart threatening to burst from her chest. She swallowed hard and dropped her hands to her side. Warm fingers brushed her hair from the back of her neck and she shuddered.

  “I will not ask you if you are certain, Merry. I know you never do anything of which you are not certain. But I will remind you that if I do this, you will be mine—forever.”

  She smiled to herself. “A sacrifice I am more than willing to make.”

  He chuckled and pressed his lips to her neck. Shivers skimmed down her spine. She moved her head into his touch. His fingers worked on her laces and she could feel a little uncertainty in his movements. Air fluttered over her shoulders.

  “Stop,” she said softly, when he had unbound her dress down to the base of her back.

  He halted, and she twisted to view him. His jaw ticked, he stared at the ties in his hands. Merry reached up and grazed a hand across his jaw, drawing his gaze to hers. Her dress slid from her shoulder and his gaze dropped to the revealed skin there.

  His hand shot out and it hovered above her shoulder, his hand shook.

  “Have you changed your mind?”

  He snapped his gaze up to hers and she noticed a hint of vulnerability dancing in his expression. “God, no,” he rasped. His hand closed the gap in a sudden rush of movement, pulling a gasp from her while he groaned. “I was just thinking that once I touched you, there would be no going back, and I would be taking you like the rogue that you think I am.”

  “Thought you were,” she corrected. “But perhaps I do not mind a little bit of roguish behavior.”

  Shifting her shoulder slightly, her gown slipped further down one side, suspended just over her breast. Her breaths came rapidly as she moved closer to him, causing his hand to drop. He dipped a thumb underneath her gown and rubbed over her hardened nipple.

  Merry sighed and closed her eyes as he caressed over her aching breast. When he made no effort to go any further, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her.

  With a slight shrug of her shoulder, her gown slipped completely off her breast and his hand covered the unsteady beat of her heart through her stays. Ever so slowly, he moved to cup it through her undergarments and excitement quivered inside her. Merry lifted her chin and met his gaze.

  “You need not be gentle with me.”

  Harry cursed and buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her to him for a kiss. His lips skimmed across hers, nibbling and sucking as if she were some rare delicacy and her legs quivered at the intensity of it. Her nipples chafed against his waistcoat and she moaned at the exquisite sensation. He absorbed her moan, probing his tongue into her mouth and she met it with relish.

  Skimming her hands down between them, she worked on the buttons of his waistcoat. He shrugged off his jacket with haste. It dropped to the floor with a thud and he drew back to allow her access to his shirt.

  Carefully, she loosened each button, all the while never leaving his darkened gaze. As she leant forward, he brushed a kiss across her forehead, sweeping his thumb over her cheek. She helped him yank his shirt over his head and she smiled at the rumpled image he made with his hair in disarray. Creases appeared around his eyes but Merry could not smile.

  She stared at him as he straightened, his muscular chest flexing with every breath. It seemed daunting now, and though she longed to reach out and run her fingers down that broadness, she found herself hesitating.

  A glance to his face bolstered her resolve. She wanted this man. Wanted him more than she had ever wanted that house, or to fi
nish her translation. Harry was everything she needed—her other half she supposed. Without him, she really would have buried herself away and become an ageing spinster with only books for friends. He reminded her she wanted more from life.

  She wanted him.

  Extending her hand out, tracing it down the ridges of his stomach, she watched his muscles contract under her touch and she could hear the harsh rasp of his breath, but he remained motionless, allowing her exploration of him. Her other hand joined in now, skimming over his collar bone until she flattened both palms over his chest.

  His throat worked as she traced her finger down it before placing a kiss at the base of his neck, where his pulse flickered erratically. Bringing his hands up to clutch her head to him, he let her nuzzle into his smooth skin, inhaling the musky scent of him. He dipped his head to nip at her ear, his hot breath sending shivers coursing through her.

  His fingers worked at her stays then pushed the garment, along with her dress, to the floor. He stepped back to admire, then bundled her to him. The shock of the heat of his chest against hers had her head swimming. He skewed his mouth across hers, and his fingers pressed into her back.

  She whimpered at the friction and he hissed as she shifted her hips to meet his, pushing against his rigid manhood. He dragged his hands away and made quick work of the rest of his garments. Her breath caught, and she could not help stare at him. Sweet Mary, all those Greek Gods had nothing on Harry.

  Tentatively, she reached out and carefully explored the length of him. She curled her hand around him. “Did I do this to you?”

  “Yes.” he grated out.

  Ever so slowly she released him, drawing her gaze back to his. “Touch me. Make me yours.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, taking her into his arms.

  She buried her face into his neck as he carried her over to the fur rug in front of the empty fireplace.

  As he laid her down gently, she could not tear her gaze from his body. No wonder she had struggled so much to fight this need for him. The heady desire blurred with the warm sensation of love in her chest.

  He positioned himself next to her, propping himself up on his elbow and his gaze traced her length. She tried to keep the heat from flowing into her cheeks under his study, but likely failed. No man had ever seen her like this and the desire to cover herself made her fingers twitch. But if she was going to prove she loved him, that she trusted him, she needed to bare herself to him—in so many ways.

  Plucking out a few pins and spreading her hair about her, he fingered the waves as they fell over her breasts and hips. She rose to meet his touch, her lids flickering shut of their own accord, lips parted in a quiet moan. Silently, he traced his finger down her profile, pausing to dip into her mouth. Her tongue instinctively darted out to meet his fingertip and a slightly strangled sound came from him. His fingers continued down the arch of her neck before dipping between her breasts and circling around each nipple.

  “Harry,” she whimpered.

  He answered her with a searing kiss as he clasped his hand around her breast, his fingers scraping over her hardened nipple. Merry met his kiss eagerly but he pulled back.

  Ignoring her sounds of protest, he moved back, and she soon became absorbed in the kisses that he lay upon her sheening skin. She writhed underneath him, gasping at each touch of his lips upon her flesh. Harry kissed down her collar bone, lavishing attention on her breasts before moving down, brushing over her quivering belly. His fingers finally tracked a path to the juncture of her thighs and he admired her before stroking across the sweet damp heat that awaited him.

  She jolted at the touch, but he placed a large, reassuring hand on her stomach, holding her down before tentatively touching his tongue to her folds.

  She jerked as a bolt of sensation rumbled through her, setting her skin alight. “Harry!”

  Quickly overcoming her shock, she marveled at the teasingly blissful feeling of his mouth upon her sex and she answered his every move with a thrust of her hips as she curled her hands around his head. A rumble of pleasure at her response erupted from him, causing her enjoyment to increase until she was thrashing, grabbing wildly at the rug beneath. When she felt she could take no more, he slid a finger into her slick heat and she exploded, crying out in surprise and wonder.

  A luxurious lethargy cascaded over her and she looked at him with heavy lidded satisfaction. He slowly crawled his way back up to her, his muscular body covering hers. He was careful not to place his weight upon her but she enjoyed the feel of Harry’s hard thigh settling between her legs and his solid chest pressed against her sensitive skin. Merry brushed her hands over his rolling muscles, using her fingers to sketch a path over each individual muscle as he framed her head with his hands

  She drew in a breath. Was this really about to happen? They locked gazes. His dark eyes were filled with an indefinable intensity, but she knew without question that it was the same love and desire that was likely written in her own expression. His mouth stayed in a grim line despite the obvious pleasure he took from having her beneath him.

  Her forefinger tracked the line of his mouth and she smiled. “Why so serious?

  His throat worked. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

  Merry knew she should be nervous—she had heard enough gossip to understand that the first time could be painful—but she could not deny herself this. She wanted more from life than books and solitude. She wanted Harry, and all the scandal that came along with him, including making love to him in the library. Hands to his rear, she coaxed him forward.

  In response, he settled between her legs, burrowing his head into her hair and kissing her neck. Cautiously he edged toward her as he nipped and sucked at her ear. Little could distract her from the hard heat of him as he brushed against her and finally found entrance. With a hurried thrust, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She cried out at the sudden pain, tears forming as she clenched her eyes shut to block out the discomfort.

  He waited then, apologizing again and again in whispers, brushing the tears from her cheeks. As the sting dissolved, she became aware of a budding heat, deep in the pit of her stomach, and the awareness spread as she finally registered the joy of their union. He must have been aware of the change as he pulled his head from the crook of her neck to meet her gaze. Tears glittered in his eyes and he pressed a fierce kiss to her lips.

  Cautiously he pushed forward, and Merry intuitively responded to the slight movement with the raising of her hips. He inhaled sharply as the movement brought him in deeper than she thought possible. She mourned the loss of the pressure in her when he pulled back, but was immediately gratified once more when he lunged again, causing a delightful friction.

  Harry picked up the pace, rocking into her and pushing against her body so that it created a tingling sensation throughout her. His breathing grew ragged and soft cries left her. The lamplight danced across the planes of his hard body, enticing her more.

  She leaned in and kissed him, tasting all that pent-up desire they were finally sharing. His gaze locked with hers as his hips slammed into her. Clinging to his shoulders, she moved with him, seeking some end she did not completely understand but knew if he was taking her there, it had to be extraordinary. Tingles raced through her, pushing her, dragging her, forcing her over the edge.

  Her breath caught, she tensed. The tendons in his neck tightened and she dug her nails into his flesh. Never breaking eye contact, she gave into the tension, letting it wash over her in delicious waves.

  Harry’s whole body tensed. “Christ, I love you, Merry.” The words came out raw.

  “I love...you too,” she managed to reply.

  He closed his eyes and his body shuddered. He groaned, low and deep. Merry felt the pulsing deep inside her then his body relaxed. After several moments of her smoothing her hands along his back, he lifted his head and kissed her forehead.

  “Did I not tell you, Merry?”

  She gathered her breath. “Tell me what?”

/>   He smoothed back her hair. “How perfect we would be together.”

  “So smug.”

  “I certainly am. Look at the beautiful woman I have in my arms.” He kissed her lips. “You can admit it, you know?”

  “Admit what?” She smoothed her hands along his arms, her body still flush with warmth and a luxurious lethargy.

  “That I was right.”

  Merry shook her head. “You shall never let me forget it either, will you?”

  “Is that you admitting I was right?”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a smile. “But I might need a little more proof.”

  He chuckled. “As you will, my lady. As you will.”

  Epilogue

  “My goodness, Merry, the house looks wonderful.” Arabella gazed about the second drawing room.

  Merry smiled, leading Arabella, Sophia, and Bella into the room and motioning for them to sit. “I cannot take all the credit I am afraid. I had a lot of help once Daniel returned.”

  Bella flung herself down on the chaise longue by the window, spreading herself out as though she owned the place. She grinned. “Now that you are set to marry Easton, are you going to use this as your little hideaway? An escape from the pressures of the life of a countess perhaps?” She waggled her brows. “Or perhaps a nice little private place for the both of you?”

  Merry could feel heat flow into her cheeks. Such was the effect of the thought of time alone with Harry. It was still another month until their wedding, and she had to admit to growing impatient. She shook her head, leaning over to pour tea. “Isabel’s mother is going to move in. She is a little frail and it would not hurt to have her near.”

  “That’s kind of you to offer her the house,” Arabella said.

  Merry lifted her shoulders. “Well, it is not really mine to offer, though Daniel did give me the option of keeping it. But I will have no need for it after the wedding. It seemed silly to keep it to myself.”

  Sophia dropped sugar into her cup and gave it a vigorous stir. “And so he should have offered. You put in most of the work.”