She shifted slightly, uncomfortable about being seen in such a revealed state. Her shift was thin cotton, washed too many times, and she knew it was almost see-through in some places. Under that she wore a pair of drawers, the pleated edges of which peeked out from beneath the chemise. She felt her skin getting hot as he just stared at her, silent. Reverent, even.
“You are so beautiful. I want to memorize every line of you. I want to burn this image in my mind forever so I never lose it, no matter what age and infirmity bring.”
She shivered at those sweet words. And again when he tucked a finger beneath each thin strap of her chemise and tugged it down, too. Inch by inch her skin was exposed, lower and lower until her breasts were bared and kissed by the warm air in the room.
She turned her head, unable to meet his eyes anymore.
“So lovely,” he muttered, more to himself, it seemed, than to her. As her chemise fluttered to join her gown, he lifted a hand and gently cupped her bare breast. He stroked his thumb over her nipple and electric pleasure sizzled through her veins until she gasped in surprise.
He slid a hand beneath her knees and lifted her onto his bed. She settled against the pillows and watched as he stepped away and stripped open his jacket buttons. He cast it aside, the same with his waistcoat. He unwrapped his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it from his trousers, he tugged the contraption over his head and her world just…stopped.
He was something. Broad-shouldered, perfectly muscled, with just a sprinkling of chest hair that made a path into his trouser waist. She had not had much experience with naked men. Her attacker hadn’t undressed. Her only points of reference were garden statues that made her eyes boggle.
This was different.
He tugged his boots off, then moved back toward her, leaving his trousers in place, just as her drawers were. He took a spot beside her on the bed, rolling to his side to face her.
“Still fine?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. You must understand, Baldwin, what happened, I’ve already been broken from it. But broken bones heal stronger. I’m that.”
“Yes, I can see that’s true. I admire it enormously.” He met her gaze. “It doesn’t mean that I won’t take care with you. Not just because of your past, but because you are lovely and wonderful and you deserve to be—” He leaned in and traced his tongue around her bare nipple. “—worshipped,” he finished.
She arched beneath him, in wonder at all the amazing things this man could make her feel and want and do. Tonight she wanted everything. It might be the only time she experienced such bliss.
There was no turning back from her needs now.
If he sensed that surrender, he made it clear by lifting her breast a little and going back to licking. Sucking. Little bursts of pleasure shot through her every time he did so, mimicking the way her body fluttered when he touched her intimately. This wasn’t release, exactly, but it drew her toward it. Muted pleasure that promised so much more.
“There is nothing like your taste,” he whispered against her skin. “I’ll never forget it.”
She lifted to him, her fingers combing into his hair as he sucked a bit harder, right to the edge of pain, but never over it. Just enough to make her feel alive and wanted and free.
As he pleasured her, he slid a free hand down the apex of her body, stroking his fingers over her bare skin until he came to the drawstring of her pantalettes. He pulled away from her breast and lifted his gaze to hers.
She was shaking. She knew he could feel it. Anticipation pulsed through her, but also anxiousness. Also fear. No matter how long it had been, the fear fluttered back and settled in her chest.
He glanced down, and together they watched his fingers work to untie the bow on the drawstring. With a few expert flicks of his wrist, he untangled the string and let the tension off her waistband. Slowly his hand slid in, over her stomach, across her mound. Her legs opened, granting him access to her sex once more.
He stroked there, sliding the wetness of her body across her sex. “It hurt before,” he said.
She sucked in her breath, trying not to go back to that dark night and the man who had stolen her innocence and her dreams in one cruel act. “Yes,” she admitted.
“It won’t tonight,” he promised. “Tonight is about you and your pleasure. If you trust me, I will make every effort to wipe away the past and make this time, this first time, something you do not regret.”
She gasped as his finger breached her slightly. “I already regret nothing,” she managed to croak out as the pleasure he could so easily generate began to build. “Please, just…just give me this.”
He gently pumped his finger in and out for a few strokes, then pulled away, leaving her body clenching against nothingness. He took himself off the bed and she stared as he unfastened his trousers and shucked them off in one smooth motion.
Her eyes boggled. Half-naked was one thing, fully naked another. She hardly knew where to look. Trim hips? Heavily muscled thighs? Or that thing between his legs. A cock, she’d heard it called. It was hard and jutted toward his stomach.
He said nothing but moved to the bed. He caught the edging of her drawers and tugged them off, tossing them over his shoulder and leaving her as naked as he was.
They stared at each other. His face contained as much wonder as she knew her own did, although a man like him had to have had lovers before. She was merely the next in a line, so why he appeared so enthralled was beyond her.
He moved closer, placing a hand on her calf. He watched her face as he drew his fingers up and up, skin on skin in places where no other person had ever touched her. Now he brought her to life, making her ultra-aware of everything he did to her.
He moved to the bed again, but his time he caged his body over hers. She gasped as his mouth covered hers. But kissing was comfortable, it didn’t make her afraid. Soon, she sank into the stunning desire he created as he brushed his lips against hers. Anxiety faded as he continued to kiss and kiss her, replaced by the warm desire that bubbled up in her entire body.
He drew back and she felt him shift, using his knees to part her legs a little farther, wedging himself into that snug spot so she felt the hard length of him just brush against her sex.
His gaze held hers, steady and calming, and he pushed forward. She felt him breach her, and immediately she tensed against the impending violation and the pain that would follow. No matter what he said, she knew what it would be like.
He stopped immediately and looked down at her with concern. “Gently, Helena,” he whispered. “Trust me.”
She drew a few long breaths. Trust him. That was easy in some areas, but in this…not as much. Still, she breathed, slow and deep, willing her body to relax. To cede control to him because he promised he would not take advantage of it. Bit by bit she relaxed, and it was only then that he moved again.
He stretched her with every inch, and she kept waiting for the pain. But it didn’t come. If anything, it was a delicious sensation of being filled up. His cock hit her in spots she didn’t know existed, and the pleasure she had felt before when he touched her or licked her murmured below the surface, whispering promises she didn’t know were possible.
Finally he fully seated inside of her and rested his forehead against hers. His breath came short and his hands gripped into fists as he pressed them into the pillow around her head. He was fighting for control, to be easy for her.
It meant the world.
“I want to move,” he ground out, his voice rough with passion. “More than I have ever wanted anything in my life. But I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
She wiggled around him and a shock of pleasure shot through her. It must have done the same for him, for his elbows buckled slightly and he let out a garbled sound.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Please!”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He rolled back and thrust deep inside of her. She lifted to greet him, overcome by the luscious, powerful movement of his body withi
n hers. She gripped him, grinding up and moaning as pleasure tore through her.
He continued, his body rolling over and through her. He dropped his mouth to hers and she opened. They devoured, neither one capable of finesse as mind departed and body became king.
She was shocked by how quickly she was lost, her body moving in a natural rhythm, her mind emptying of everything but the intense pleasure that built with each and every thrust. She shook as he continued that wonderful tempo, drawing her forward, forever forward, forever toward release.
When she found it, it was more powerful than it had ever been before. Pleasure exploded within her, and she cried out. He covered her mouth with his to mute the sound, and she keened against his lips as her fingers dug into his shoulders and her body pulsed out of control with wave after wave of release.
He increased the speed of his thrusts, dragging her relentlessly through sensation. His body tensed, he let out a low growl and then rolled away from her as he came against his hand and flopped back on the pillows beside her.
They lay like that for what felt like a blissful eternity, and then he moved to his side once more and faced her. Concern lined his face, erasing the peace that release had seemed to temporarily grant him.
“Are you well?” he whispered.
She shook her head with a smile. “You worry too much about me, Baldwin. I came to this room wanting exactly what just happened. And if my keening and crying out didn’t tell you, I got everything I wanted and more.”
He smiled at her description and leaned in to kiss her. She cupped his cheeks and reveled in him. Reveled in the warmth that remained after this powerful joining, reveled in the still tingling pleasure of her body.
That was a gift, and she would cherish it for the rest of her life.
He pulled back and said, “My prerogative is to worry, Helena, and to take care to make everything about this perfect for you. You deserve that. You deserve so much more than I could ever give.”
Her heart swelled with those words. Swelled with feelings she had been trying to ignore, trying to combat, since the first moment she’d turned and found this man on the terrace watching her count stars.
But there it was, and it was as undeniable as the physical draw between them. She loved him. Suddenly and impossibly and powerfully, she loved this man with all that her heart could hold and even more.
She loved him, and she knew that he could never be his. Except for tonight. Except for here.
She cupped the back of his neck and drew him down for another kiss. This one was slower, though, deeper, and he shifted as he began to stroke his hands over her body. She shivered and pulled away.
“Show me,” she whispered.
His eyes went wide, but his pupils dilated with renewed desire that matched her own. And as he rolled to cover her once more, she surrendered everything to him.
And knew there was some part of her that she would never get back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Helena sat in the quiet of a parlor hidden in the back of the house. While the others were napping after yet another day of fun and frolic before they prepared for supper, she was enjoying a book.
Well, enjoying might be too much to say. She was holding a book, she was looking at it. But all she was thinking about was Baldwin and the night before. That sweet, sweet night where he’d made love to her over and over. Pleasure had known no bounds, and she ached from it.
“Oh, Helena, I didn’t know you were up and about.”
Helena shook her head to clear the thoughts of Baldwin, and rose as Adelaide entered the room. Her blonde hair was done loose, as usual, and she wore a blue gown that matched her eyes perfectly. She was gorgeous, but it wasn’t just her pretty face. She had so much confidence.
But Helena knew what Baldwin had said about her. That she had been assaulted, though she was saved before it had gone too far. Somehow Adelaide didn’t show the aftereffects.
Helena wondered if Graham helped Adelaide forget, as Baldwin had done for Helena last night.
“Are you well?” Adelaide asked, her face suddenly lining with concern.
“I’m sorry,” Helena burst out, cheeks filling with color. “I was just staring at you like a ninny.”
“No apologies,” Adelaide assured her as she moved forward to catch Helena’s free hand. “I interrupted your reading. I can go if you’d like to continue it.”
“No,” Helena said, setting the book aside. “I would much enjoy your company if you are offering it.”
Adelaide smiled and they sat together on the settee. She picked up the book. “Oh, Emma wanted to read this one. She keeps going on about it.”
“I’ll pass it on to her as soon as I’m finished,” Helena vowed. “Perhaps I’ll even convince her to write me what she thinks—I’d love to talk to someone about it.”
Adelaide set the tome aside and tilted her head to examine Helena more closely. “Do you think it’s possible you might see more of Emma, of all of us, once you return to London?”
Helena pursed her lips. “If I am accompanying Charity to events where you are present, of course.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Adelaide said softly.
Helena got up and paced away. “I don’t really belong in your circles, Adelaide, though you’re all so kind to include me. We all know the truth of it, don’t we? We can’t pretend it forever.”
“That’s poppycock,” Adelaide snorted. “And it still isn’t what I meant.” Helena turned toward her, and Adelaide gave her a look. “I’m asking about you and Baldwin.”
Helena’s lips parted. “You duchesses are relentless.”
Adelaide laughed. “We are that, yes. So if you know that, why don’t we stop beating about the bush? What is it between you?”
Helena sighed and returned to her seat. She held Adelaide’s gaze evenly and said, “Nothing.” Once again Adelaide snorted and Helena threw up her hands. “Very well. More than nothing. We are…we’re closer than I ever thought we could be. But it can’t happen, Adelaide, no matter what we want.”
Adelaide’s expression grew troubled. “When you first said that to me, I thought you were being coy. Trying to distance yourself from the kind of feelings so many before you have felt. But—but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
Helena nodded, and relief and disappointment crested through her at once. “It is.”
For a moment, Adelaide hesitated. Then she inched closer and reached out to take Helena’s hands. The comforting warmth of that touch was a shock to Helena’s system, after so long without true friendship to buoy her.
“We are new friends, I know, but I hope good ones. Would you like to talk about it, Helena?” When Helena didn’t answer right away, Adelaide sighed. “I know from experience how hard it is to face these sorts of things without a confidante. I did the same when it was Graham and me, and it was trying.”
Helena’s lips parted. She could not imagine that anything could ever be hard between Northfield and Adelaide. They obviously loved each other deeply. She could also not imagine that her friend hadn’t been surrounded by support. But then, she knew so very little about all of the duchesses. There was implied struggle in all their pasts.
“I can’t speak to all the reasons that separate Baldwin and me,” she said. “Some are not my secrets to tell.”
“But if you want to say the ones that are,” Adelaide pressed. “I’m a friendly ear who only wants the best for you.”
Helena bent her head. “Baldwin said you might…you might understand. You’d been through something similar.”
Adelaide leaned closer. “Something similar?”
She lifted her gaze and stared at Adelaide. “I don’t want you to think differently of me.”
“I couldn’t,” the duchess assured her gently. “I promise you.”
Helena squeezed her eyes shut, and the words began to fall from her lips. Like she had with Baldwin, she told Adelaide all of her past. It was only when she was finished that she looked
at the duchess again.
And found her staring back with understanding on her face. “That is the scandal,” she said softly. “That drove you from Boston.”
Helena nodded slowly.
Adelaide shook her head. “People are bastards. To blame you for an attack you didn’t cause, it makes my stomach turn.” Helena drew back from her harsh tone, from the defense she hadn’t asked for. Adelaide leaned in. “But my dear, you cannot think that those facts would keep Baldwin from you. You don’t think he’s the kind of man who would judge that?”
Helena gasped. “Oh, no! No, not at all. He’s been nothing but kind and gentle and accepting. He encouraged me to talk to you or to Emma since you two had—”
“Have a similar past.” Adelaide squeezed her hand. “Emma and I were very lucky. James stopped her attacker. Graham nearly killed him when he came for me. But yes, we both know a tiny glimpse of the terror you must have felt in those moments.”
Helena sucked in a breath, and then she felt the tears begin to fall. She reached up to cover them as shock flowed through her. She had put all this away long ago. And yet having support…it was like she was allowed to remember that she had been hurt. That she had been wronged.
Adelaide clucked her tongue and drew her in for a hard hug. “You cry, love. You just cry all you need to. You’ve earned that.”
Helena relaxed into the embrace, and for a moment she allowed herself the weakness she had fought against for so long. The pain she’d been denied. She sank into it and gave herself the gift of mourning the past, of what she’d lost.
And when she could finally breathe again, Adelaide smiled down at her. “It makes it a bit better, doesn’t it? Like a pressure valve that’s been released on the heart.”
“Yes,” Helena agreed through a thick throat. “It does.”
Adelaide smoothed a lock of hair away from her face. “But if you say Baldwin doesn’t judge you for that, then why do you believe you can’t be together?”
Helena straightened up a fraction and sighed. “I can only tell you that my past is not my only failing. I just cannot…be what he needs. It is the way of our world. I must—I must accept it. I must accept it and move forward.”
The Duke of Nothing (The 1797 Club Book 5) Page 15
