The Notorious Proposal

by Terry Long

  Michael put all his weight on his arms to keep from crushing her. As he shifted, Ally’s eyes roamed to his mouth, her hands flew to his shoulders. Now, that is an excellent sign.

  Without urgency, as if afraid she’d change her mind and begin wrestling him again, his mouth lowered toward hers.

  Ally wrenched her head to the side.

  Perhaps not. His mouth landed on the expanse of flesh that drove him wild. It seemed like this was where all her scent originated: that trace of floral bouquet he came to like a great deal, the sunshine, and even spring showers. It drove him mad with need. He lavished kisses along the column of her neck.

  “Don’t,” she told him, but Michael appropriately noted that she clutched at his arms instead of pushing at them.

  He smiled against the warmth of her skin. “Do you really wish me to stop?” He switched from kissing the right side of her neck to the left.

  He fumbled with the bottom of her white nightgown, striving to raise it over her thighs with a sweep of his hand. His fingers trailed along her outer thighs. She squirmed, and he roved higher to her hips, squeezing, clasping, reveling in the elegant flare.

  Drinking in the sweet fragrances, he whispered, “Should I stop?”

  Ally arched her neck toward his mouth, and her little hands moved restlessly among his shoulders.

  “I think I’ll stop in just a minute,” he murmured, letting his fingertips glide over the flat of her stomach. “I want you, Ally. Let me have you.” His breathing grew as labored as if he’d just run a hundred miles.

  Ally remained silent. It was all the urging he needed.

  Pulling her nightgown completely over her head, he pressed his body against hers, groaning at the contact of her bared breasts as they flattened against his chest. He began to move efficiently against her, letting her feel his arousal. “I want you.” At her continued silence, he peered down at her face.

  With her eyes shut tightly, the flutter of her lashes stirred frantically. It appeared as if she expected him to take her then. “I’ll make this good for you. You’ll like having me inside,” he assured her.

  Ally didn’t utter a remark, but the death grip she had on his shoulders constricted further. The way her breath hitched at his words made his anticipation that much greater.

  “You won’t think of anyone else when I’m inside you, Ally.” He parted her thighs wider with a knee. “I want you to come for me.” As he said this, he was afraid of doing just that, before he even had the chance to feel her.

  Taut with need that consumed him, Michael groaned. His longest finger probed her. “You’re so hot for me, love. That’s it. More.” The very silky and slick core of her nearly pushed him over the edge.

  “I can’t, Michael.”

  His name rolled off her tongue as if she’d practiced it a thousand times. He liked the sound of it: pleading and demanding at the same time.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes were squeezed tightly, her lashes flickered. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, the sight proved highly arousing.

  Unfastening his breeches with a trembling hand, he positioned his throbbing manhood at her entrance. “You can. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” Ally squirmed when he touched the very tip of him to her. “What is it you need?” he panted, ready to plunge inside. He was on the brink of release just feeling her heat on him, but he wanted so badly to hear her utter those words. He’d never taken this long to woo a woman before. With Ally, it was different. He needed her to enjoy this as much as he was about to. “Say it, love. Tell me what you want.” Now, it was he, whose voice sounded like a plea, broken and torn from his chest.

  “I want you,” Ally said in a faint whisper that shook him in the center of his chest. “Please.”

  “You needn’t beg.” With one surge, he drove into her. Michael paused once he broke the barrier shielding her maidenhood. “Oh…my…God!” He shut his eyes with a ragged groan and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Holy hell!

  A short minute later, when she relaxed her rigid body, he raised his mouth from her beating pulse. Her eyes were clamped shut as she lay beneath him. “Look at me, Ally.”

  She refused, adamantly shaking her head.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice strained with raw sympathy. He felt like an ass. He’d hurt her, and yet, he still wanted to bury himself deeper inside her. He still wanted to take her, wanted to finish inside her.

  He strived not to move and the result nearly drove him mad. Perspiration beads formed on his head and his back grew slick with sweat as he struggled to maintain control. “I had no idea…No, don’t move like that.”

  Ally’s eyes flew open, their violet depths full of surprise and wonder. Then she stirred again.

  Gnashing his teeth, Michael peered down at her through a cloudy vision. “I don’t have much control right now. Please…be still for me,” he implored through a shaky breath that sounded like it was ripped from his chest. “You must be still.”

  But Ally didn’t heed his warning. She wriggled beneath him.

  Michael let out a mangled groan, lowered his head to hers, and drove himself to the hilt. “My God, you feel so good.”

  The world ceased when he willed every muscle in his body to halt.

  It took him a great deal of strength to raise his head and look at her. “Do you…want me to stop?” He swallowed and dropped his head, resting it against hers. He felt her quick nod, and nodded back to let her know that he’d stop. But, hell, this proved to be more difficult than he’d ever imagined.

  As he slowly withdrew, Ally’s hands clamped around his neck and shoulders, bringing him back down to her with force, and he growled with pleasure as he buried himself deep inside her once more.

  “I can’t stop. God knows I need to…but…” Michael struggled to explain, but his words died in his throat the moment Ally lifted her hips. Instinctively, he pushed deeper into her slick sheath. She was so tight, he couldn’t finish explaining why the hell he couldn’t stop taking her. “You…” he ground out harshly, “feel so damn good.”

  Her sultry moans were her undoing. As Michael took her higher and higher, her cries came out as pleas. His name rolled out like an ardent mantra, further exciting him. Ally dug her fingernails into his shoulders, urging him on by whimpering and gasping with each stroke. Rocking against her fiery body, again and again, Michael fixed his eyes on her. The sight of her parted lips and passion-filled face made him harder, stronger. With each thrust, he drove in deeper as Ally hauled him down harder.

  When he felt her tighten and tremble, he quickened his tempo, his own body heightening to sheer ecstasy. He took her mouth before one last thrust, shuddering and groaning like a man possessed.

  All his strength felt stripped away, yet his soul felt reborn, alive. Nothing had ever felt that good. Though he’d collapsed on top of her, the arms that wrapped around his sweat-slicked back held him in place, as if not wanting him to leave. Everything would be all right.

  Slowly, the world began to stir again.

  Putting his weight on his arms, Michael raised his head and kissed her lips, her neck, her chin, her forehead. She had her eyes closed, so he kissed those as well. “Look at me.” When she opened her glazed eyes, he cradled her face in the palm of his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” she asked dreamily, avoiding his gaze with half-closed lids.

  A faint blush covered her skin. It was obvious she was embarrassed. Damn! He’d been wrong about her. And why the hell hadn’t she corrected him when he all but called her a hussy?

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you’ve never done this before?” If she had told him she had never been touched, he wouldn’t have taken her. Would he? He gritted his teeth at his own incompetence. Hell, a virgin! He’d never taken a virgin to his bed. What was he to do with her now?

  Ally looked dazed, her eyes unfocused. “Why?”

  Yes, why would she have to tell me that? Chastis
ed, Michael rolled off her and sat at the edge of the bed, dropping his face into his hands.

  Damn, he’d never been so wrong about anything in his life. He felt like the worst sort of cad, completely worthless…without morals. What the hell was he going to do to fix this? “I’m sorry.”

  Why hadn’t he known? She was an untouched, unspoiled woman, and he’d treated her as if she’d been tried.

  She hadn’t replied to his regret, and the quietness of the chamber grew into painful silence. Michael couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at her. He wouldn’t be able to bear her abhorrence.

  Without another word, he gathered his clothes and went through the connecting door to his own chamber. The blood stains left on his nether regions made him feel like a beast.

  ***

  Ally lay there, covered in heat from head to toe, with the covers tucked all around her. He was sorry? Did that mean he didn’t like bedding her? Why had she liked it so much? She couldn’t help the disappointment that ran through her chest. Michael apologized for having had…relations with her, and all she could think of was the weight of his body on hers, around her, in her.

  It was glorious. At first, she felt stretched, sore, violated even, but when he withdrew from her with unmistakable slowness, as if he had no desire to stop, her body grew empty and tormented second by each growing second. After she’d hauled him back down to her, it was beautiful.

  She felt as if she had been floating. He felt so wonderful inside her. Each skillful stroke took her higher, yet deeper, and her world crashed down around them. Michael completely possessed her, but she’d wanted him to. She’d felt as if a thousand tiny butterflies had gracefully landed on her all at the same time.

  Her pulse quickened by the thought, and heat warmed her face.

  But he was her husband, it wasn’t wrong. She gripped the sheets tightly around her naked body and sighed noisily, turning to her side. Did she do something wrong, perhaps? She was sure that with more practice, she’d get better at it. He just had to tell her what to do.

  Groaning aloud, she buried herself under the covers.

  Though only temporarily, she was his wife. Because of her hasty marriage, Ally had known for some time that no respectable man would marry her after the annulment. She had come to accept the fact of becoming a spinster, which was why she allowed Michael to bed her. Right? She had allowed him to show her the act.

  Ally burrowed farther into her sheets.

  Well, at least now she knew what it felt like…how very wonderful lovemaking was, before settling into spinsterhood.

  Chapter Thirteen

  He had acted like an animal with her. He felt sick to his stomach and ashamed of his callous behavior. He’d taken her harshly, fiercely, as if she’d been tupped before.

  Intently gazing down at the papers scattered among his desk, Michael stared at the jumble of words that stared back up at him.

  How could he have been so stupid? Once, he’d almost commented aloud that she blushed like a bloody virgin. Hell! She was a virgin!

  “Are you quite finished?”

  Michael lifted his head from the papers to Lord Havenbrook’s piercing blue gaze. “What?”

  His childhood friend let out an aggravated sigh and averted his eyes to his entwined hands resting on the desk. “I asked you if you were finished.” The man made a show of studying his thin wedding band. “Well? I didn’t come to watch you sulk at my new business venture. I have a lovely wife awaiting my return, so if you would please.” He gestured to the reports he’d brought.

  “Right. I’ll look at them later,” Michael said, hopeful the conversation would end there, but he knew his loquacious friend better than that.

  He wasn’t surprised when Havenbrook began thrumming his fingers on the desk and quirked a thick brow. “Later? For the sake of speaking,” he drawled evenly, “and of course, without being labeled a thickheaded idiot, I shall ask you this: what the bloody devil have you been looking at all this time if not at those reports?”

  “For God’s sake, Havenbrook! I said I’ll look at them later.” Michael returned his friend’s glare.

  Havenbrook let out a long, harsh breath. “Well then. Later it is.” After a moment, he rose from the chair and stretched, then sauntered to a long oak table and poked at one of the crystal menagerie lined atop it, yawning noisily. “Let me know what you think of my observations on this new shipping venture.” He stared out the French windows that took up an entire side of the study. “I think it’s a good investment, but you might find something I may have overlooked.” He turned and made sure he had Michael’s attention before adding, “Later, that is.” A wide smile followed the smirk.

  Rolling his eyes, Michael ran a hand through his hair. It was just like Havenbrook to rub salt on his wounds. Growing weary of his friend’s banter, he asked, “Didn’t you mention your wife awaiting your return?”

  Havenbrook let out chuckle, his eyes twinkling with gaiety. “What the devil is your crisis, Langdon? Not having sufficient time in your nights to fuck?”

  At the mention of that, Michael stiffened. The wave of guilt that washed over him also filled him with bitter remorse. Unable to retort, he glowered.

  Havenbrook, oblivious to his anguish, rumbled with laughter as though he’d hit the mark. “You may have my previous mistress if you wish,” he said after his guffaws had died down.

  “How thoughtful of you. How ever will you carry on?”

  Grinning like a fool, Havenbrook waved his hand dismissively in the air. “I’ve no need for a mistress. I am a rather faithful and devoted husband,” he announced. “My pregnant viscountess loves me to distraction, so it’s only fair that I equally return the affection. Now, if you would like to have any of my former chere-amie, I could make the proper arrangements.”

  “I do well with the ones I visit, thank you,” Michael said returning his attention to his desk. He blankly stared down at the information his friend gathered for his new mission, but he couldn’t seem to grasp a single word or its meaning. Women? Hell, he hadn’t visited with one since he galloped back from Gretna Green with a defiant wife!

  Sliding a glance at Havenbrook, Michael experienced a pang of…envy? No, he wasn’t that petty. Michael, tremendously satisfied that Havenbrook found nothing but contentment with his new marriage, did not envy the man. As a matter of fact, if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Havenbrook. That his friend, a man who had once sworn off marriage indefinitely, could rise from dark, dreadful situations pleased Michael on many levels.

  It wasn’t as if Michael’s own marriage was a genuine one. It had been a charade from the moment he set eyes on Ally. If things were different, if the circumstances were different, perhaps he might find himself offering her…

  Michael refused to finish the thought. No way he’d become a charlatan. If he’d insisted that Ally wouldn’t make a suitable wife to Victor, then he sure as hell wasn’t going to keep her for his own.

  Feeling a strong urge to look up from his desk, he found Ally standing at the doorway with her hands clasped in front of her.

  His heartbeat quickened tenfold. She refused to look him in the eyes, yet determination etched her face. The jut of her chin implied she clenched her teeth.

  The sight of her clad in a pale pink gown, and golden hair pinned up in a mass upon her head sent another surge of guilt over him. But, as she stood before him, he couldn’t help taking in her sight- amorously. The display of her bare neck beckoned to him, and thoughts of earlier that morning rushed to him like a rolling bolt of thunder. A brief gaze into her eyes when she at last lifted them to his, chased away his concern and unease. Ally didn’t appear to be angry with him.

  He stood when she stepped inside.

  “Mr. Langdon, may I speak to” Ally cut off midsentence when she noticed Havenbrook in the corner of the study. A blush crept to her face. “I wasn’t aware you had a guest,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “Speak to me later,�
�� Michael murmured. His voice sounded like it belonged to a nervous schoolboy. Clearing his throat, he added, “I’ll have Matthews fetch you as soon as I’m finished here.”

  She gave him a slight nod, but before she turned to leave, Havenbrook blurted, “No. Later, he promised to look over my report.” He grinned. “You should speak to him now, miss.”

  Ally’s gaze, like a bird in flight, flew from Havenbrook to him, as if she didn’t know how to respond to that. God, she was so innocent, Michael thought with renewed shame.

  Havenbrook cleared his throat, and from the annoyed glance he received from the Viscount, Michael caught his meaning and hurried to make introductions.

  “Ally, this is Lord Havenbrook, Viscount of Glousterdame. Havenbrook…” Michael shuffled his feet behind his desk. “My wife.”

  Havenbrook’s mouth hung. “Your what?”

  “My. Wife.”

  “Since when the bloody hell…” Havenbrook trailed off, though he gave Ally a slight nod. “My sincerest apologies for my ill-mannered and impetuous outburst. I was merely taken by surprise at the mention of Langdon having had…er…” He scratched the back of his neck with a forefinger and stood there blinking.

  Ally gave him a quick curtsy. “My Lord. It’s quite all right,” she assured his foolish friend with a shaky smile. Michael imagined she tried to ease the petrified look off the Viscount’s face.

  Michael’s gaze lingered on her face, assessed her expression closely. He wanted to know if she loathed him more so now than before, but he couldn’t tell.

  “Lord Havenbrook,” Ally said, presenting him a departing curtsy.

  The Viscount simply nodded after her.

  Michael sat himself back down in his chair and picked up the report he had been attempting to read, giving Havenbrook a moment to collect himself. He allowed a fleeting glance at the man who still looked stunned into silence, with all of his concentration seeming to be at the empty door.