‘We have all the time in the world to give each other every pleasure imaginable, Pandora,’ he assured gruffly as he dropped down on to his knees on the rug and commenced gently drying the backs of her legs. ‘All of our lives, in fact.’
All of their lives …
It was wondrous, awe-inspiring to find herself married to Rupert Stirling, the Duke of Stratton, Marquis of Devlin, Earl of Charwood, his to do with as he wished for the rest of their lives.
As he was now hers to do with as she wished?
‘Rupert, may I not— What are you doing?’ She gasped as she felt the touch of his lips against one of the cheeks of her bottom.
His chuckle was low and slightly wicked this time. ‘I cannot help it if I find your bottom utterly delicious, Pandora. So much so that I cannot resist kissing it for a moment longer.’ The warmth of his lips pressed against the other curvaceous orb.
Those chiselled lips touching her there was … altogether too intimate for Pandora’s innocent sensibilities, but to turn and face him would put her in a position of even greater intimacy. Instead she stepped forwards and away from him before turning. Only for her eyes to widen and her breath to catch in her throat as she looked down at Rupert sitting back on his haunches, staring up at her with warm grey eyes, his arousal rampant and utterly beautiful between his thighs.
She had felt that arousal pressed against her several times, of course, most especially the night before when she had straddled his thighs so daringly and he had given her that first taste of pleasure, but nothing, not even that previous level of intimacy, had prepared Pandora for the male beauty of Rupert’s body.
His skin was a light gold, shoulders wide and powerful, chest broad and muscled, stomach tapered and flat, and that long, thick arousal jutted out proudly from amongst the golden curls between his thighs.
‘Oh, Rupert!’ Pandora dropped down onto her knees between his parted thighs. ‘May I … touch you …?’
‘Please,’ Rupert encouraged throatily. ‘Dear Lord, Pandora!’ He groaned at the first touch of her silky soft fingertips against the heat of his shaft.
‘It doesn’t hurt you?’ The skin on that rampant arousal looked so taut, so full, as it leapt forwards at her slightest touch.
‘Only in a pleasurable way,’ Rupert moaned. ‘Stroke me, pet,’ he begged. ‘Tighten your fingers a little and slide them up and down, and then put your other hand beneath my—yes, just like that!’ These past few days of making love to Pandora had stretched Rupert’s control to breaking point and it was now almost beyond bearing to have her cupping him and lightly pumping his shaft as he gazed upon her nakedness. ‘Harder, love,’ he urged hoarsely, back arching as he began to thrust into those encircling fingers. ‘Harder! Oh, God, faster!’
‘May I—?’ She licked her lips as a bead of liquid appeared on the tip. ‘Is it possible for me to taste you?’
‘Yes!’ Rupert gasped as he felt his release pumping hotly inside him as he watched Pandora slowly bend over him, her long golden curls falling silkily across his thighs as her lips parted over his hot and throbbing cock and she took him so deeply into the heat of her mouth that the sensitive tip hit the back of her throat.
If he had ever reached such a fierce and powerful release before, then Rupert had no memory of it. No memory of anything as he reached forwards to entangle his fingers in Pandora’s hair as she took his fierce release, causing him to groan and writhe in ecstasy beneath the onslaught.
Minutes, hours later, Rupert finally leant forwards to rest his head against her golden curls, completely spent, drained of all strength as well as coherent thought.
‘Rupert, are you all right?’ Pandora was filled with alarm at his collapsed state, her cheeks paling at the fear that she might have hurt him. She had acted completely on feminine instinct minutes ago when she had asked to taste him. But had she somehow injured him? Hurt the one person she had no wish ever to hurt?
‘It’s all right, love.’ Rupert chuckled weakly as he slowly raised his head to look at her. ‘I just need a minute or two to recover, and then it will be my turn to taste you—’ He broke off with a frown of irritation as a knock sounded on the outer door of their bedchamber. ‘Not now!’ he groaned in protest, eyes closing briefly before he shook his head. ‘Ignore it, love, and maybe they will go away.’ He looked down at her intently. ‘Pandora, I wasn’t too rough with you just now? I didn’t hurt you?’
‘Hurt me?’ She knew that her cheeks were pale. ‘You’re the one who minutes ago seemed to be in pain.’
‘That was ecstasy, not pain,’ he said. ‘An ecstasy I can’t wait to have you repeat. As often as you wish it,’ he teased.
She dared a glance at him. ‘Really?’
Rupert was puzzled. ‘I don’t understand, Pandora. You and Maybury were married for three years. Did the two of you never share—?’ He broke off as she suddenly pulled away from him.
‘Don’t talk of him now!’ she cried, her eyes wide and accusing.
‘I know you’ve said that the two you didn’t suit, but surely—’ He scowled darkly as another knock sounded on the bedchamber door. ‘What is it?’ he demanded impatiently.
‘I really am sorry to intrude, your Grace.’ Rupert’s butler spoke on the other side of that closed door. ‘But there is a lady downstairs wishing to see you. She refuses—she is most insistent that she must speak with you immediately, your Grace,’ he added apologetically.
Pandora blinked, unsure what to make of this interruption immediately after she and Rupert had shared and indulged in such intimacies as she had never even imagined between a man and woman.
What lady was awaiting him down the stairs? And how dare she interrupt them on their wedding day?
Pandora’s heart sank as she wondered if, having successfully routed Patricia Stirling, both from Rupert’s life and this house, she was now to be confronted by another of the women from his reputedly wicked and licentious past?
‘I will be down shortly, Pendleton,’ he said tersely before turning back to look at Pandora. ‘I’ll get rid of this woman as quickly as possible and return to you.’
‘Don’t hurry back on my account, Rupert.’ Pandora pulled completely out of his grasp before rising gracefully to her feet to cross the room and pick up her robe. ‘As you said, we will now be spending the rest of our lives together.’ She turned her back on him to pull on her robe and cover her nakedness, tying the belt securely about her waist before releasing her long hair from the collar.
‘Pandora—’
‘Please don’t let me delay you any further.’ She kept her gaze averted, but at the same time was aware of his every move as he pulled on his own robe and refastened it before approaching her.
Rupert reached out to lightly clasp one of her shoulders, his other hand moving to lift her chin so that he might look down into the paleness of her face, her eyes still avoiding meeting his. ‘I’m sure, despite this woman’s insistence, that it can be nothing of great import,’ he finally murmured, deeply regretful that their time together had been so rudely interrupted.
‘Of course not.’ Her smile was brittle as she lifted her chin from his grasp. ‘The sooner you are gone, Rupert, then the quicker you will be able to return,’ she pointed out.
Rupert’s mouth tightened and he inwardly cursed the ‘insistent lady’ awaiting him downstairs; a woman who had best be prepared to face the full force of his wrath! ‘Will you stay exactly as you are?’
Pandora’s gaze shifted to the ormolu clock on the fireplace. ‘It’s almost time to dress for dinner.’
And as far as he was aware, she hadn’t taken the time to eat either breakfast or lunch today and consequently must now be feeling famished following the events of the day so far.
He swallowed down his annoyance that their intimacy had been so completely shattered. ‘By all means dress for dinner and I will go through to my dressing room and do the same before going down to deal with our unwanted visitor.’ His voice hardened over the last
words, wondering who she could possibly be—certainly not Patricia, as she had departed an hour or more ago, never to return as far as he was concerned.
‘I believe Pendleton said the lady is your visitor, not mine,’ Pandora reminded him coolly as she once again moved out of his grasp.
Rupert’s eyes narrowed as his hands dropped back to his sides. ‘Pandora—’
‘Please, Rupert, you really should go,’ she insisted firmly.
He shot her another frustrated frown. ‘I wouldn’t have had this happen for the world, Pandora.’
‘You can have no idea of the truth of that statement when you have no idea, as yet, precisely what “this” is,’ she reasoned.
Whoever had dared to interrupt them on their wedding day was going to bear the brunt of the sharp edge of Rupert’s tongue. ‘I will return in but a few minutes,’ he promised before walking through to his dressing room.
But one look at the identity and agitation of the ‘insistent lady’ who had demanded to speak with him and Rupert knew that he had spoken in error …
Chapter Sixteen
‘His Grace has asked me to extend his apologies, your Grace, and advises that you start dinner without him.’ An uncomfortable-looking Pendleton stood outside in the hallway when Pandora answered his knock on the bedchamber door some half an hour later. A bedchamber she had been pacing restlessly this past ten minutes or more as, having dressed, she impatiently awaited Rupert’s return.
She stilled. ‘And where is his Grace?’
The butler’s gaze avoided meeting hers. ‘I believe he had reason to step out for a while, your Grace.’
Her eyes widened. ‘His Grace is no longer at home?’
‘No, your Grace.’
Pandora was appalled, stunned, that Rupert could have chosen to go out on their wedding night. With the ‘insistent lady’ who had been waiting for him downstairs? Someone from his past, perhaps?
Was that not a big leap to have taken in her thought processes? Pandora questioned with a frown. After all, Rupert had seemed equally as surprised earlier by his visitor. Except … he had now left Stratton House without even taking the time to come back to their bedchamber to tell her himself of his departure. ‘Is there anything amiss, Pendleton?’ she asked the elderly man.
‘Not that I am aware, your Grace.’
She sighed her frustration. ‘The Duke did not state the reasons for his sudden departure?’
‘No, milady.’ Again Pendleton’s expression and tone revealed nothing of his own thoughts on the subject. ‘He merely instructed me, before he left, to inform you not to delay dinner on his behalf.’
The thoughts of eating dinner, alone, and unaware of where Rupert had gone with his female visitor, held absolutely no appeal for Pandora. In truth, she felt slightly ill, nauseous, at the abruptness of her bridegroom’s desertion.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘And did … did my husband leave at the same time as his female visitor?’
‘I believe he did, your Grace, yes.’
Pandora felt something inside of her die, as if a fist had dealt a mortal blow to her chest. Robbing her of breath. Of all thought. Except to know that Rupert had left her side on their wedding night in the company of another woman.
The humiliation, the irony, of having not one, but two husbands desert her on her wedding night, was not lost on her. Indeed, if that knowledge was not so painful, Pandora knew she might even have laughed at her own folly, in believing, hoping, that this second marriage to Rupert had any hopes of being any more successful than her first.
She straightened her shoulders proudly. ‘I believe I will not bother with dinner either, thank you, Pendleton. If you will offer Cook my apologies …?’ No doubt the poor woman, believing the Duke of Stratton to be celebrating his wedding today, had prepared a special meal for the two of them this evening. A special meal which would go as untouched as Pandora herself.
‘Of course, your Grace.’ The butler gave a slight bow. ‘Would you care for some refreshment to be brought up to you here instead?’
‘No. Thank you.’ Pandora dismissed the servant, determinedly maintaining that dignity until after Pendleton had quietly left the bedchamber.
The rest of the household staff must also be aware by now that her husband had abandoned her on their wedding night and no doubt pitied her because of it. A pity which now caused hot and scalding tears to fall unchecked down the coolness of her cheeks.
She had believed that there could be no deeper humiliation than that she had suffered on her wedding night four years ago, but surely this—Rupert having left her alone and bereft on their wedding night in the company of another woman, and without so much as a word of explanation, after making love with her so passionately—was worse even than that other humiliation?
She had been so naïve and trusting when she married Barnaby, in love with love rather than the man who had become her husband— how could she have been in love with Barnaby, when she had not really known him, and he had done absolutely nothing to encourage that emotion after their wedding?
These past four years, three of them spent as an unwanted and undesired wife, had succeeded in bringing maturity to both Pandora and her emotions.
Now she knew exactly what love was.
It was a man with the face and blond curls of a fallen angel.
It was a man called Devil …
It was two o’clock in the morning, the house eerily silent as Rupert made his way stealthily up the wide staircase two steps at a time, turning to the right when he reached the top and padding down the long hallway. He quietly opened the door of the bedchamber and slipped inside, closing it behind him and looking at the woman bathed in moonlight as she lay sleeping atop the bedcovers.
He moved silently as he stepped closer to the bed so that he might look down at her.
She wore the same cream gown she had been married in, that single string of pearls about her throat, the gold of her hair allowed to fall down about her shoulders and appearing almost silver in the moonlight, the long fan of her lashes soft against pale ivory cheeks. A frown appeared on her brow even as the fullness of her lips parted slightly and she sighed in her sleep.
Rupert felt a tightness in his chest at the underlying sadness he heard in that weary sigh. He bent to tenderly kiss the frown from her brow, allowing his lips to travel gently from that brow to her cheek, drawing back slightly as he tasted the saltiness of tears against his lips.
Tears he had caused Pandora to shed because of his abandonment of her on their wedding night?
The tightness in his chest deepened as he removed his jacket before slowly, carefully, stretching out on the bed beside her, not wishing to wake her as he smoothed the curls from her temples with gentle fingers, gladly enfolding her in his arms as she turned instinctively towards him for comfort, her head now against his shoulder, one of her hands resting trustingly upon his chest.
At peace at last, Rupert closed his eyes and fell asleep beside her.
Morning would be soon enough to tell Pandora why he had left her so suddenly the evening before …
Pandora was having the most wonderful dream as she snuggled more deeply into the arms that held her close, a dream so beautiful, so comforting, that she resisted being woken by the morning sunlight shining across the bed.
In her dream it was Rupert holding her close. Rupert’s reassuring shoulder upon which her head lay. Rupert’s muscled chest beneath her fingers.
Which told her more clearly than anything else might have done that she was indeed dreaming. Because Rupert wasn’t here. He hadn’t returned at all the evening before. He hadn’t come home at all last night.
Their wedding night.
Once again she felt the hot sting of tears beneath her tightly closed lids, knowing a moment’s surprise she had any tears left to cry after all the tears she had shed the evening. It was—
‘I know you’re awake, Pandora.’
She stilled, stiffened in disbeli
ef, hearing Rupert’s husky words at the same time as she felt the rumble of his chest against her cheek.
‘Open your eyes and look at me, love.’
She could not. Dared not. Had no wish to see, to know the truth of his desertion of her the night before, as she would surely do if she once looked into his compelling grey eyes.
‘Pandora?’ he coaxed gently.
‘Go away!’ She kept her eyes tightly closed, refusing to respond to that gentleness.
‘I have no wish to leave you, love.’
‘You managed it with ease last night,’ she reminded him dully.
Rupert’s breath caught in his throat as he heard the pain in her voice. ‘I no more wanted to leave you last night than I do now.’
She gave a fierce shake of her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Why not?’
Her lids rose above accusing violets-in-springtime eyes as she glared at him, tears shimmering on the long length of her lashes. ‘Possibly because you spent our wedding night in the arms of another woman!’
‘No, love.’
‘Yes, love!’ Two bright spots of angry colour entered her ivory cheeks. ‘Even Barnaby was not so cruel as to—’ She broke off with a pained gasp.
‘Yes?’ Rupert prompted as his arms tightened about her.
Her gaze avoided his as she pushed away from his chest. ‘Release me, please.’
His mouth firmed. ‘I’ve said no.’
Pandora scowled at him, at once aware of his tousled blond hair, the weariness about his eyes evidence of his lack of sleep the night before, of the fact that he was still fully dressed apart from his superfine, the shadow that covered his jaw and top lip showing that he had not shaved as yet this morning.
That he had come to her bed this morning from the arms of another woman!
Her lips trembled. ‘You are despicable. A man utterly without morals of any kind. The sort of man who beds a woman who is not your wife on your wedding night.’ She managed to wrench free of his hold and scoot over to the side of the bed before standing up to move in front of the window, as far away from Rupert as it was possible to be in the confines of the bedchamber. Rupert’s own bedchamber, not hers. A bedchamber she had no intention of sharing with him ever again.
Some Like It Wicked (Mills & Boon Historical) (Daring Duchesses - Book 1) Page 19
