“What is it, Tess?” he demanded, his tone now alert, but strangely wary.
“I … I am sorry to disturb you,” she stammered, “but I think there was an intruder in my room. Something touched my face when I was sleeping, and I don’t believe I was merely dreaming.”
There was a long pause while Rotham observed her standing there in her nightdress, barefooted, her hair spilling down around her shoulders.
“I am afraid to return, Rotham,” Tess insisted when he was silent.
“I cannot imagine you being afraid of anything,” was his noncommittal reply.
She swallowed. “It is one thing to disbelieve in ghosts. It is another to deny a real, physical manifestation. I am not returning to my room tonight. Fanny is in Basil’s room, though, so I cannot stay with her. I will be more courageous in the morning, but until daylight, I want to stay here with you.”
He looked at her for another long moment. “You are not using the ghost as an excuse to torment me?”
“What?” Her brow furrowed. No, she was not pretending to be frightened for her own purposes, as Fanny had done. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“If you remain here, I cannot vouch for my control. I cannot spend another chaste night with you in my bed. I don’t have the willpower.”
It surprised Tess that he would admit to having any vulnerability to her, particularly that she could make him lose control.
She slowly crossed the room to his bedside. “I want to stay, Rotham,” she repeated.
“Do you know what you are asking?”
Understanding his question, she hesitated. If she remained, the long-delayed consummation of their marriage would take place.
Was that what she wanted? Tess wondered, her gaze roaming over him. The lamp glow played over his bare torso, over sleek skin rippling with muscle.
Tess shivered, yet her reaction had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with her unwilling desire for Rotham. She craved his warmth, his sheltering arms. She wanted him to protect and hold her and keep her safe from harm.
But she also wanted so much more.
The dryness in her throat made her reply a rasp. “Yes … I know what I am asking.”
His gray eyes sparked with unmistakable fire as he drew the covers down beside him, while his voice grew husky.
“Then stay.”
Incredible is the only way to describe it.
—Diary Entry of Miss Tess Blanchard
Tess hesitated for another long heartbeat, yet she could not possibly have turned away. Rotham’s powerful, hypnotic aura held her spellbound—that same captivating allure that had made her heart flip over when she’d first set eyes on him at nineteen.
His eyes just now were heavy-lidded and unexpectedly soft as he regarded her, waiting silently for her final decision. Yet she knew this moment was inevitable. They had danced around each other for days now, ever since their first, ill-advised, explosive embrace had resulted in forced matrimony. But it was time to end the battles between them … at least momentarily.
Releasing the breath she was holding, Tess carefully set her lamp down on the bedside table. When she started to extinguish the flame, however, Rotham stopped her with a gentle order.
“No, leave on the light.”
Propping the pillows against the headboard behind him, he sat back and held out a beckoning hand to her. “Come here, love. Let me warm you.”
Wordlessly, she obeyed. She had agreed to his terms, even though after tonight, not only would their marriage be irrevocable, her body would no longer be her own.
When she climbed onto the high bed to sit beside him, he slid an arm around her waist and drew her close. Accepting Rotham’s embrace, Tess let her head rest on his shoulder.
For a while he merely held her, his heat seeping into her. She could feel her chilled body warming against the satin of his bare skin. His hand drifted soothingly over her hair, down over the long sleeve of her nightdress and back up again.
For a time she was content to remain in the hard masculine shelter of his arms. She felt cloaked in warmth and safety … yet undeniably aroused as well. Being with Rotham like this, sharing his bed, brought back potent memories of their wedding night. His slow caresses reminded her of how skillfully his hands and mouth could play over a woman’s body … over her body.
Tess bit her lip, keenly aware of the contradiction. He was offering her comfort yet stirring chaotic feelings of longing and desire inside her. Feelings she would no longer—could no longer—resist.
After a moment, his lips pressed against her hair. “You should take off your nightdress,” he murmured.
Without argument, Tess eased away from Rotham and rose up on her knees. Her palms damp with nerves, she unbuttoned the bodice of her cambric nightdress, then caught the hem and drew it over her head, letting the garment fall to the carpet beside the bed.
When, self-consciously, she made to cover her breasts with her hands, he shook his head. “Let me look at you.”
It was arousing in itself, she realized, to have Rotham studying her nude body. She never would have believed a simple look could be so titillating. The expression in his eyes made her breathless.
He was a riveting figure himself, she thought, taking in his physical masculine beauty … his gold-brown hair, thick and wavy, glowing richly in the lamplight. The proud bones and angles of his aristocratic face. His firm, sensual mouth. His strong, vital body. His enchanting, mesmerizing eyes.
Her gaze was caught helplessly in his, even before he reached out and traced a fingertip over her cheekbone and along her jaw, then lower, down the column of her throat to one bare breast. Her nipple peaked instantly, making Tess gasp at the delicious sensation. And yet she felt shaky, trembling inside.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked as if he could read her thoughts.
Not afraid of him, no. Rotham had been extremely considerate of her innocence that first time together, Tess reassured herself, so surely he would offer her the same consideration now. She feared herself, though. She was afraid of her relentless, deplorable need for him.
“I am a little nervous,” Tess admitted honestly.
“Then you should take the lead.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you learn my body? Your trepidation will decrease with familiarity.”
His suggestion was unexpected, and she didn’t immediately reply.
“You are completely in command, Tess,” Rotham added, his voice low and casual.
She understood and appreciated his tactics. By allowing her to control the pace of her deflowering, she was likely to conquer her nerves more quickly.
“How do I begin?” she asked.
“Use your imagination. You are not a complete novice any longer.”
No, she wasn’t actually a novice. Fanny had helped her to prepare for her nuptial bed, including lessons in self-defense regarding how to arouse a man. And Rotham had shown her the incredible pleasure to be found in his arms. She could attempt to work the same seductive magic on him, Tess decided.
When she drew down the covers to expose his entire lower body, her heartbeat hammered in her throat. He was an overwhelming man, lithe and virile, but it was the foreign sight of his loins that drew her gaze. His long male member stood thick and darkly rigid, fascinating her with its sheer proportions.
“You may touch me, Tess,” he urged. “I won’t break.”
She leaned closer, placing her palms against his bare chest, feeling the warm, strong resilience of his muscles as she trailed a tentative path lower to his hard, flat abdomen.
When she stopped short, Rotham took her hand and brought it to his loins. Her breath went shallow at the feel of that huge, swollen arousal.
Wrapping their joined fingers around his erection, he moved her palm slowly along its length, stroking himself with her hand.
“Can you imagine having me inside you?” he asked. “Filling you with my f
lesh?”
Tess’s lips parted at the enticing image he’d awakened in her mind.
“I would like very much to be inside you, Tess, giving you pleasure.”
Yet she wanted to give him pleasure this time, Tess realized. The thought strangely excited her.
“You said I should lead,” she reminded him, surprised by the husky intensity of her voice.
“As you wish. What do you propose doing?”
“I want to taste you.”
His lips curved in a slow, sensual, heart-stopping smile. Something inside her stirred, responding as naturally, as inevitably, as breathing.
“Then taste me,” he said.
He relaxed back against the pillows, giving the appearance of surrender. Yet evidently she affected Rotham, too. She could feel the fine tension in his body as she bent over him and pressed a kiss to the bare skin covering his heart.
And when she cupped the soft, velvety pouch of his loins, his body tensed visibly. Then her fingers curled around his hard shaft, and the thick length surged in her hand. Encouraged by his involuntary reaction, Tess couldn’t help a gratified smile.
Still kneeling, she kissed her way further down Rotham’s body, letting him feel the drag of her heavy sable hair over his stomach and groin. When she took him in her mouth, his rampant member jerked reflexively, and she felt another faint measure of triumph.
Control was somehow empowering, Tess realized, and liberating as well.
More eagerly, she slid her lips fully over the thick head of his shaft, swirling her tongue lightly over the taut, heated skin. His body clenched, and although his resulting groan was soft, she felt his hand twist in her hair.
After enduring several more moments of her seductive ministrations, though, he issued a ragged protest. “I knew it … you came here to torment me.”
“Am I tormenting you?” she whispered.
“Yes … and I cannot take much more.”
She relished the thought of making Rotham lose control. Yet apparently he wouldn’t cede all the power to her.
Holding her upper arms, he eased his rigid length away from her caressing mouth. Then, pulling Tess up to him, he guided her knee over his thighs so that she sat straddling him, face-to-face.
At her look of surprise, his gray eyes smiled into hers. “This way we can both enjoy the pleasure,” he said huskily.
Tess couldn’t find her own voice, however. The searing heat of his arousal against her stomach had made her throat dry and deprived her of speech.
Reaching up, he took her breasts in his hands, lifting the swelling weight in his curving palms. Then leaning closer, he covered her mouth with his.
Just the taste of him sent her pulse leaping more erratically. He invaded her mouth with bold strokes of his tongue while his fingers plied her nipples with a gentle plucking motion. The eroticism of it stole her breath. His mouth, his tongue, his hands—all combined in a powerful assault on her senses.
Wanting grew inside her. Her heart pounded as he sent waves of heat to every part of her body.
Then Rotham unexpectedly drew back. His eyes had darkened, Tess saw before he glanced down at her breasts again.
His lids lowered, he deliberately bent his head and closed his mouth over one engorged peak. At the same time his hand dipped between her legs to find the creamy wetness there.
She gasped as his teasing fingers stroked her sex. The strong pull of his mouth on her nipple created a hot, echoing throb deep inside her very center … a throb that intensified when he paused to whisper huskily against her skin, “You’re wet for me. Your body is eager for mine.”
It was true. Her cleft was already slick and swollen and aching for him. And Rotham was clearly intent on making her longing even greater. Still caressing her, he left off suckling her breasts to watch her face. His smoky gaze held hers, never wavering as he explored her more thoroughly, his fingers probing between her feminine folds, the rough pad of his thumb gliding back and forth over the sensitive bud of her sex.
She nearly moaned at the sweet torment. “Rotham … you are making me so …”
“So what?”
“Hot.… Like I will burst into flames any moment.”
“I want you to burst into flames, sweet Tess.”
When he sheathed two fingers in her pulsing warmth, a half gasp, half moan spilled from her lips as she shivered with wanton pleasure.
Oddly, her response only made him give up his delectable torture. But Tess realized why a moment later. Easing her thighs open wider, he closed his hands over her buttocks and pulled her hips even closer, so that her belly and feminine cleft cradled his heavy, swollen shaft. The pressure on the sensitive core of her sent a shock of fire rippling through Tess, making her clutch at his shoulders.
Unable to restrain her desire any longer, she rose up on her knees, intending to lower herself onto the velvet-smooth head of his manhood. When she felt his thick hardness begin to press inside her, though, Tess stiffened at the invasion, drawing a deep breath.
“Slowly,” Rotham whispered, stopping her from going any further. “Let’s take our time.”
She paused, shutting her eyes, wondering if her body could accommodate his enormous size. For a dozen heartbeats, she felt the heat of his fingertips brush her face, her throat, her shoulders in soothing caresses. And after a time, her damp sheath seemed to open in readiness for him.
When she nodded, his hands moved to her thighs to guide her. She sank down another fraction, slowly enveloping him. The pain was not too great, more a burning sensation than real pain, and even that subsided in another few moments.
“Look at me, sweet angel.”
She obeyed and found herself drowning in the shadowed glimmer of Rotham’s eyes. How had she ever thought those gray depths cold and cynical? They smoldered hot and hungry now.
Tess felt an answering hunger burning inside her. Yearning for him to fill her more completely, she sank all the way down, so that he was seated fully inside her.
He held her there unmoving while he gently kissed her. His lips stroked over hers tenderly, as if she were rare and special and something to be savored.
His mouth was magical … and so was his touch. His kisses enchanted, and when she began to relax, he kissed her even more deeply, his tongue penetrating her mouth like his shaft was doing between her thighs.
An aching tightness coiled throughout her, spreading to her every nerve and sinew. Of its own accord, her inflamed body began to rock against his.
Rotham had given her the illusion of being in command, Tess realized, but she was not in charge at all; control was quickly slipping from her grasp. Her pulse turned wild as he began a slow, deliberate thrusting in turn. She moved her hips instinctively in a primitive, needful rhythm, trying to satisfy the hot, urgent longing clamoring inside her.
To her dismay, Rotham’s beguiling lips left hers as he drew back again … yet it was only to watch her. There was a fierce tenderness in his eyes as he coaxed her with his hard body, heightening the erotic friction between them.
Her breath was coming in hoarse whimpers now. Her hands clenching spasmodically, Tess gripped his shoulders, clinging to him, seeking more of the fevered pleasure he was giving her. Her body felt deeply connected with his, so full that she was part of him. The feeling was intense, wonderful, and so was his dark, molten gaze.…
Suddenly, the pleasure was too keen, too fierce to be borne. Her heart pounding, Tess gasped at the bright flare of sensation that rocketed through her. She tried to press herself even deeper against Rotham—but then the shattering explosion came and swept away all her senses in a storm of fire.
His climax followed directly, as if he’d forced himself to wait for her. He groaned and shuddered and surged hard into her, catching her when she collapsed bonelessly onto his chest.
In the aftermath, his hand rose to cradle her throat, soothing her thundering pulsebeat, while his mouth feathered light, tender kisses over her face and hair.
Hi
s own breath was harsh and uneven, but after a long moment, Rotham lifted her and eased her down beside him. Letting his legs tangle with hers, he pulled the covers up over them both and drew Tess into his arms. He lay there, his body wrapped around hers, warming her, calming her, brushing her cheek with warm fingers.
“Are you all right?” he murmured after a time.
“Yes,” Tess replied, savoring his hard strength. Her feelings for Rotham were still chaotic, creating turmoil in her heart and in her mind, yet her body had never felt so blissful. “Thank you for being so … considerate.”
“Did you expect me to be otherwise?”
“I suppose not. But I did not think … this would happen tonight.”
Ian himself had not expected to seal their marriage vows either. He hadn’t meant to renege on his pledge to leave Tess strictly alone. Yet he could not possibly have resisted when she’d come to his rooms garbed only in a nightdress, looking anxious and alone.
He’d wanted to comfort her, yes, but he’d wanted more to claim her. The prospect had made him hard in an instant.
At that moment he was almost glad for the castle ghost, since it had driven Tess into his arms.
And then he had joined carnally with her. Her serene loveliness had taken his breath away … her exquisite body, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in heavy silken waves, her dark velvet eyes hot and pleading.
Her passionate response to his lovemaking had been everything he’d imagined and more, Ian admitted, remembering her sweet cries of pleasure. She was even more beautiful in her arousal than he’d anticipated, making all his past encounters with other lovers pale in comparison.
It was his own response that deeply concerned Ian. The pleasure he’d experienced with Tess had been shattering. Despite his extensive carnal experience, he’d felt the effects of their union as if it were his first.
And now he was lying here in the aftermath of passion, treasuring the quiet intimacy of holding her, relishing her scent on his skin.
To Desire a Wicked Duke Page 15
