by Tarah Scott
Tentatively, Mia grasped his shoulders. She hadn’t forgotten the feel of his solid chest, but to wrap her fingers around the hard muscle of his shoulders was a heady experience. Dared she try more? She slid her right hand along his shoulder to his neck. The edge of her hand brushed the hair at the nape of his neck and she slipped of her fingers into the thick, velvety soft mane. He groaned.
Mia jerked her mouth from his. “Did I do something wrong?”
“To the contrary,” he said in a strangely hoarse voice. “Everything you are doing is perfect.”
He swept her into his arms. Mia shrieked and flung her arms around his neck. In three long strides he reached the divan and sat down, settling her on his lap. Before she could consider, his mouth covered hers again. This time, she immediately opened when his tongue touched her lips. He hugged her tight and it seemed he devoured her mouth. The unfamiliar throb at the apex between her legs intensified. What it would be like to feel his hard length touch her there?
The hand resting on her hip slid down along her outer thigh to her knee. Mia realized he was tugging up her skirt and petticoat, and panic mingled with unexpected anticipation. Could she really allow…allow what? Just what did he plan to do? Whatever his plan, it entailed pulling her dress above at least to her knee where the hem now lay. He slipped his hand beneath her skirt and petticoat and— Oh my, the warmth of his hand on her knee was so strange.
His hand slid upward. There could be no doubt. He intended to touch her in her most intimate place. To her surprise, his flattened palm continued up to her abdomen. So he didn’t intend— His fingers turned and gently cupped her mons. Mia broke the kiss and buried her head in his neck.
“Are you frightened, lass?” he asked.
Honestly, she wasn’t, and shook her head.
Mia became aware of the thrum of his pulse against her mouth. Was he as excited as she? Given the bulge pressing her hip, she would guess so.
The fingers cupping her gently probed. Unexpected pleasure rippled through her. He gently slipped a finger between the moist folds and found the sensitive nub. Her head whirled. The finger began to massage.
“Lord,” she breathed.
He gave a low laugh.
The massaging continued. His head shifted and his mouth pressed against her ear. His teeth found her lobe and nibbled. She shivered.
“You are making it hard to think,” she whispered.
He laughed again. The sound reverberated in her head and she found herself wanting to rock slightly against his fingers. Lord, what he was doing with those fingers. Was this a sin? She couldn’t refrain from arching just a little.
“There you go, lass,” he whispered.
He massaged a little faster. His mouth slid down her neck. A tickle snaked up her neck when his tongue flicked the sensitive area were neck met shoulder. Need began to build between her legs. He kissed her collarbone then the rise of her breast just above her bodice. His tongue thrust between the edge of her half corset and her flesh and circled her hardened nipple. Pleasure streaked through her. If this was seduction, she now truly understood why people became swept away. Passion was, indeed, a powerful force.
Mia relaxed her head against his shoulder as his tongue continued to tease and his fingers massaged faster in tandem with her rocking. She wasn’t certain how long she could take the exquisite torture, but she was so glad she had managed to entice him into seducing her.
She suddenly wanted very badly to close her legs around his fingers. Might that not impede his massaging? Embarrassment washed over her. That she didn’t want. He abruptly laid her back against the divan cushion and pulled down her bodice and corset, exposing her right breast. His mouth closed over the nipple and when he suckled pleasure burst from her sex. Mia cried out and arched into his mouth. She seized his shoulders. He suckled harder. Her pleasure intensified, wave after wave. She clamped her legs together. Emotion swirled through her like a storm. His kisses gentled. The pleasure subsided to a soft throb.
Magnus removed his hand from between her legs and scooted her back on the divan. He rose on one knee on the couch, a foot bracing him on the floor, and undid the falls of his breeches. His engorged manhood sprang free and pointed in her direction as if to attack and the haze of pleasure vanished. Good Lord, here is where she paid the price for her pleasure. He intended to fit the large member inside her. His eyes locked with hers and she read a hint of laughter.
“I promise, we will fit,” he said.
She flushed. He bent and gently kissed her. The tension in her body began to relax.
He broke the kiss and cupped her face. “You are quite beautiful, you know.”
“You are quite handsome,” she replied.
He grinned, gave her a quick kiss, then pulled her dress up to her waist. His gaze fixed on the apex of her legs and she wanted to melt into the cushion.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
Magnus gently parted her legs with his leg, then gripped his length and positioned himself at her opening. Her heart pounded. There really would be no turning back after this. Was there any turning back now? Yes, perhaps, for with her maidenhead intact, no one would know she had been intimate with a man.
He smiled. “The pain will be fleeting, I promise. Then…”
He kissed her again, long, languorous and with a sweetness that made her heart fill with a strange emotion. He shifted. Then thrust. Mia cried out in startlement. Magnus lowered himself onto her fully. His weight pressed down upon her. She thought having him on top of her would be uncomfortable, but when he kissed her again, he seemed almost a part of her.
He broke the kiss and whispered, “Do you feel any pain?”
She thought about it. Pain? No. Strange? Oh yes.
Mia shook her head.
He drew back, then thrust slowly. The sensation was so very strange. It didn’t hurt. It just felt impossibly large. He drew back and thrust again, then again. The contact of his flesh against hers was oddly pleasurable. She wondered what it would be like if they wore no clothes on at all. She mentally grimace. How could she think such improper thoughts? He thrust deeper. To her surprise, pleasure rippled through her.
“You have driven me to distraction these last few days, love,” he murmured. “I will not last long. I promise to make that up to you when we’re in a proper bed.”
Mia frowned. She’d driven him to distraction? That was ridiculous.
His movements quickened. She liked the way his pelvis felt when it collided with hers. Mia wrapped her arms around his back. He groaned. The sound sent a wave of desire though her. He drove deeper. Her breath caught at the hint of pain mingled with pleasure. She had the strange urge to wrap her legs around his waist. Might he like that?
Slowly, she drew up one knee. Magnus reached back and grasped her hip. Mia levered her leg around his waist, then did the same with the other.
“Vixen,” he murmured in a hoarse voice.
She should have been embarrassed, but the word emboldened her. She arched her hips to meet his thrusts.
“Christ Almighty,” he ground out, and thrust hard.
He hugged her tight, driving fast another half dozen times before he groaned deeply and froze, buried hilt deep inside her for several heartbeat. Again, he thrust, slowly, until he finally collapsed on top of her, heart pounding. Had he felt the same pleasure she had? When might they be able to do this again? How often could they do it? The tomcats in their barn mounted every female that allowed it. Her father had made a career out of bedding beautiful women. Men certainly—
The murmur of voices cut into her thoughts.
Magnus jerked up onto one elbow. “Bloody hell.”
He sprang to his feet and shoved his member back into his breeches, then buttoned his falls.
“Quick, Mia,” he whispered. “Your dress.”
She glanced down and started at sight of her bodice askew and down over her corset. She sat upright and straightened her dress, then pulled her skirt down a bare instant
before the doorknob turned, and the door opened.
Chapter Thirteen
“Bloody hell,” Magnus cursed.
Sir Stirling stood just inside the room with Magnus’s father and brother.
Magnus looked at Stirling. “I had no idea you knew we were here.”
Stirling angled his head. “My apologies, when Everston told me he’d directed you here, I should have realized you required privacy.”
His father’s eyes shifted from Magnus to Mia, then back to Magnus again. “Privacy, indeed,” he murmured. “I see you have finally decided to follow family tradition. Is this by chance the same lady who is rumored to have seduced you?”
“Oh dear,” Mia whispered.
“I did warn you how quickly the news would carry,” Magnus said gently. He turned his attention to the marquess and said, “Father, meet my fiancé, Lady Mia Allerton. Mia, may I present my father, the Marquess of Thachton.”
“A pleasure to meet you, my dear,” he said.
She paled, but said, “My lord.”
“I shudder to think what would have happened had we arrived two minutes earlier,” his brother said. “Count yourself fortunate you have the Forbes timing, Magnus.”
“Duncan,” Magnus warned.
“No need to get upset,” his brother said. “Good timing comes in quite handy.”
Magnus looked at Mia. “This is my brother, the Earl of Thachton.”
Magnus tensed when his brother crossed the room to Mia. He lifted her hand from where it lay on her lap—wholly inappropriate, but that was the Earl of Thachton for you—and bent over her fingers.
“A pleasure, my lady.”
Suspicion lit her eyes, but she said in a civil tone, “My lord.”
He released her and straightened. “Call me Duncan.”
The marquess crossed the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch from Mia. Stirling took a nearby chair, but Magnus remained rooted to the spot beside where Mia still sat.
“I am surprised to see you, sir,” Magnus said. “I did not expect you for at least another month.”
“Unexpected business arose with your uncle.”
“Blane?” Magnus blurted before catching himself.
There was only one thing the marquess set his pleasure aside for: family. How in the world had the marquess heard that Blane was harassing him?
“Duncan and I arrived at Barkely Hall late last night,” his father said. “Imagine our surprise when we rose this morning to hear rumors of you conducting an affair with your neighbor.” He smiled enquiringly at Mia.
Duncan chuckled. “I heard she was straddling his—”
“Duncan,” Magnus snapped.
“We are in civilized company, Duncan,” the marquess said. “Behave accordingly.” He regarded Mia. “I can see why you tempted him, my dear.”
“For Christ’s sake, Father,” Magnus muttered.
“Easy, lad. I do not seduce my sons’ wives.”
Embarrassment warmed Magnus’s cheeks.
“I am immensely relieved to hear that, sir,” Mia said. “I should have hated to have to shoot you.”
The marquess’s brow shot up. “Indeed?”
She nodded. “My aunt taught me that a lady has a right to defend yourself against unwanted attention.”
“She sounds like a sensible woman,” he said.
“One you should get to know, if she is as beautiful as her niece,” Duncan said.
“I think not,” Magnus said.
“When is the wedding?” his father asked.
“In three or four days, depending on when I can procure a special license,” Magnus said.
“Three days,” Mia blurted. “So soon?”
“There is a need for haste, eh?” the marquess said. “You never do anything halfway, Magnus.”
Magnus scowled. “There is no need for haste.” Though, for all he knew there was. He had just bedded Mia—if one could call that bedding a woman.
“I believe I might be able to help with a special license,” Stirling said. “I am acquainted with the bishop.”
“How every convenient,” Magnus said. Suspicion niggled. If he didn’t know better, he would almost think that Stirling had played matchmaker. Nae. The idea was too fantastical.
“Very practical not to wait,” his father said. “Your mother will be pleased. As of yet, she has been unable to induce Duncan to wed and give her grandchildren.”
“Grandchildren?” Mia repeated. “I am just engaged, and already you have me married and breeding.”
“That is what people in love do,” he said.
Magnus blinked. He’d never once heard his father speak of love.
The marquess held her gaze. “You are in love, are you not?”
Bloody hell, so that was his father’s game, eh? It was well and good for his sons to whore all over Scotland, but the moment a woman managed to capture one of his sons’ attentions, the marquess had to be certain she wasn’t a fortune hunter. Magnus thought of Beatrice. His father might not be all that wrong.
“Of course we are in love,” Mia said.
“We are?” Magnus said dumbly.
She stood, grasped his lapel, and pulled his ear down to her mouth, then whispered, “If I didn’t love you, why would I have enticed you into seducing me?”
He drew back and looked down at her. “Is that what happened?”
She nodded.
“Rather brazen of you, my dear, and worthy of the Forbes reputation,” he murmured.
Her lips parted in surprise.
“I like her,” Duncan declared. He looked at Mia and said in mock seriousness, “Welcome to the family, my lady. May God have mercy upon your soul.”
Epilogue
Magnus’s father started to step into the carriage, then paused. “Did you write your mother?”
Magnus nodded. “Aye. Mia insisted.”
His father chuckled. “That lass will keep you on your toes. She reminds me of your mother.”
Magnus grimaced. “Bite your tongue.”
His father’s expression softened. “Just because your mother and I went our separate ways, doesn’t mean we do not care for each other. She is a good woman.” He turned toward the carriage.
Magnus laid a staying hand on his shoulder. The marquess looked at him.
Magnus’s chest constricted. “Thank you for dealing with Blane.”
A hard glint entered his father’s eyes. “Your mother has protected him too long. It was time he learned his actions come with consequences.”
“She couldn’t know how he abused those young women at The Honeydrop,” Magnus said.
“That wasn’t his first offense,” he replied, then vaulted into the carriage.
Magnus closed the door and peered through the window at his brother, who gave a mocking smile, then saluted. Magnus stepped back and watched the carriage roll down the drive. He had had to admit, they’d behaved better the last two weeks than he remembered them ever behaving. Perhaps being around a respectable woman helped. He loved his mother, but she didn’t bring out the best in his father.
Magnus turned and strode up the steps and entered Barkely Hall’s door. He took the stairs to the right, passed down the upstairs hallway up to his private library, and found Joshua waiting for him.
Joshua rose from the chair in front of Magnus’s desk.
“Good morning, Joshua.” Magnus rounded his desk and sat in his chair. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
Joshua locked gazes with him. Magnus liked the lad. He was straightforward and honest. He could stand to be a little less serious, though. He mentally chuckled. The same had been said about him at that age.
“I wondered if you have anything to do with this.” Joshua removed a small folded piece of paper from the inner pocket of his coat and laid it on the desk.
Magnus unfolded the paper. Joshua’s signature was scrawled across the bottom of a marker promising five thousand pounds.
Magnus set the marker
on the desk and looked at Joshua. “You have my father to thank.” Not a complete lie. He’d offered to pay the marker, but when his father had Blane arrested for owning an illegal gaming establishment in Inverness, the marker had become worthless.
Indecision warred on Joshua’s face. “I shall repay the marquess.”
“There is nothing to repay,” Magnus said.
Joshua shook his head. “I wager I owe nothing for George’s commission and the payment of Mr. Barton’s bill, either?”
Magnus frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Joshua’s gaze sharpened. “I understand a commission was purchased for George. Seems he’s been assigned to the Kensington. It is a small ship, only fifty guns, but she patrols the Scottish coast, which means he will be able to get home more often for the remainder of his contract.”
“That is fortunate for Angeline.” That had come at Mia’s request.
“Interestingly enough,” Joshua went on, “our father’s legal bills have been paid.”
“I suppose I must take credit for that,” Magnus said. The lad wouldn’t believe otherwise.
Joshua nodded, then hesitated. “Why didn’t you tell Mia about…well, you know.”
“As I said, it didn’t concern her.”
“You could have had me imprisoned.”
Memory flashed of the young woman he’d found in The Honeydrop. How different might her life have been had she had brother like Joshua?”
Magnus shook his head. “I cannot fault you for protecting your family.”
Joshua rose. “Thank you, sir.”
A knock came to the door and Mia entered.
She smiled. “I see you two are getting along well.”
Joshua frowned. “Of course we are getting along fine. Why wouldn’t we?” He bowed to Magnus. “Sir,” he said, then left.
When the door clicked shut behind him, Mia lifted a brow. “More business that doesn’t concern me?”
Magnus rose and strode to her side. “I know of some business that does concern you.”
She turned her face up toward his. “Indeed?”
