She’d been one of only a handful of ladies at the match, but she hadn’t been as repulsed as she’d expected to be. After seeing the horrors of the war on the Continent, a few bruises and bloody noses were nothing in comparison.
* * * *
“And I take it you win far more than you lose?” Violet asked him.
She did not seem appalled. Nor was she afraid. When she’d hugged him, he did not know whether she would berate him as Bella would do or if she would turn into a mewling mess.
Violet did neither. Why?
“I do. If I go down, I make sure to take as much blood from my opponent as I can before I fall.”
Kit loved the feel of power running through his fists. His arms were slick, oiled machines primed for battle, though he watched more fights than he participated in. He sponsored two of the top pugilists in England.
“Then I am grateful that it was you who came along that day.” She shivered. “I said it before, but I will say it again.” Holding his face in her hands, she took his mouth to hers, first kissing his lips, then sliding her tongue over his.
Kit held her tightly. She melted into his embrace and he could not imagine letting her go. She tested his resolve not to take her right now. It would be too easy to roll atop of her and slide between her thighs. He took a breath and looked down into her heavy-lidded eyes, which now looked more brown than green.
“If that is the thanks I get for helping a lady in distress, I should do that more often.” He grinned.
She pulled at his tunic and resumed the kiss. The fact that she wanted it as much as he did fueled his lust. There were many ways he could have her without taking her. Maybe he could sample her sweets without devouring the main course.
As he started to speak, Violet put her hand to his lips. “There is plenty for us to discuss later. Right now, I need…” She ran her hands down his chest—making his stomach clench—and kissed him as her fingers fumbled over the fastening of his trousers.
The delicious ache made him so hard that he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. She was a dream made alive. A wanton woman hidden beneath a wholesome exterior.
“Let me,” he said, reaching for his trousers to help her along.
“No.” The command stopped him. Her gaze was full of fire. “Stay still.” She released his flap, then bent down to work on the buttons beneath it. “Considering that I am about to wear out your strength, you should take as much rest as possible.” The wicked smile on her lips made his cock twitch.
“You are the devil, my lady.”
He was driven mad by the look in her eyes and the feeling of her fingers so close to his erection. “If I were the devil, I would steal your soul. Rest assured that is safe for now. I aim to take your body, instead.”
He hissed as she pulled the last two buttons loose. There was barely time to breathe before she slipped her hands under his trousers.
“Oh!” She exclaimed when she realized that he had nothing on underneath. His stockings tied at the knee, so he was bare under the shirt tucked into his trousers.
She got over her surprise quickly. Taking him in hand, she circled his girth and slid her fingers up to the tip.
He managed to appear calm as she stroked him, when he really wanted to grip the bed sheet and pump into her hand. But a man must always be in control. Besides, she was not his first lover, though right now, he could not remember the face of any other woman, and Kit realized that he did not want to.
She pulled up his shirt and dragged his trousers down. Only his stockings remained. When Violet bent down to remove them, she licked and sucked his thigh. His hips jerked of their own accord.
Though he was half naked, his body was too hot to notice any chill. Violet’s presence was a blanket over him, warming his blood. Quickly, she unlaced his stockings.
“Relax,” she whispered as she palmed his sack. Delicate fingers massaged and kneaded.
“Not fucking possible,” he blurted before he could temper his response.
Violet gave him a look, but otherwise ignored the outburst. She continued to drive him to the edge with her magic fingers—then nearly killed him with her magic tongue.
“Bloody hell.”
“My, you have a wicked tongue,” she said before she sucked the tip of his cock.
“The same could be said of you,” he retorted.
From the first day he’d awoken, he’d wanted Violet, but he’d assumed that he’d have to coax and soothe her, romance her a bit before she’d give him the liberties he wanted to take. Never had he thought she would be so carnal.
“You think this is wicked?” she teased. Her tongue traced its way from his balls up to the head then swirled around it. When she sucked harder, he groaned. Her hand pumped up and down the shaft.
“Yes.”
“Hmmm,” she replied. “Then that is merely the beginning.”
“What else could you mean?” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.
“Help me undress and you will see.” She winked at him.
The bloody woman winked at him! What could she know that he did not? Apparently he had miscalculated the widow’s skill and experience. She was not as innocent as he’d presumed. What other false assumptions had he made about her?
When she turned to let him untie the lacings of her gown, he leaned close, breathing in that sweet, fragrant scent that was unique to Violet. He pressed a kiss to her back.
“Give me a moment,” she said as she pulled the dress off. She climbed back to the bed and started to undo her stays.
With a sweep of his hand, he pushed her fingers away. This was a present he wished to unwrap himself. When the cloth separated, he cupped her breasts then palmed the front, rotating them in his hands.
The fabric of her chemise could not hide the darker shade of her nipples. They teased him and begged him to taste. What could he do but oblige?
He suckled the left bud right through the fabric, enfolding Violet in his arms.
“More,” he whispered before taking the right one into his mouth.
She responded by climbing atop of him. The heat of her sex burned his. His mouth sought hers. He gripped the back of her hair, which was still swept up, despite his propensity for threading his hands into it.
The slow movement of her hips over him was an exquisite torture that he did not want to end. He deepened the kiss, plundering the treasure of her lips until she shivered and whispered his name.
Her eyes looked glassy and her lips were a rosy pink. She couldn’t move because his fingers were still in her hair.
“Now what was the wicked thing you wanted to show me?”
All signs of the haze in her eyes were gone. She gave him a fast peck on the mouth and then swung her legs back over to the side of the bed and climbed down.
“Sit at the edge of the bed,” she commanded. A soft breeze went through her voice when she said, “Would you like the pleasure of undressing me?”
That did not require a response. Taking the hem of her shift, he pulled it up, skimming his hands over her thighs and hips as he went. His head throbbed as he bent forward, but he would not let that pain interfere with making love to her.
“Now hand me a pillow, my lord.”
He grabbed it and thrust it at her, belatedly realizing she’d addressed him as my lord rather than ‘sir’ as she usually did.
When she dropped down to the floor, he assumed she meant to continue suckling him. He was happy to oblige and shifted forward to give her access.
She kissed the head, but then lifted up. “Hmmm.” A moment later, she was up and looking through drawers. What the hell? Did she mean to tease him to death? He was about to demand she return when she found a bottle, pulled out the stopper and sniffed it. She smiled and poured a bit into her palms.
His jaw dropped when she massaged her breasts, letting the—oil, yes, oil—drip all over them. Good heavens. It was the only thing she could have done that would excite him more than having her suck on his
cock.
As her gaze met his, she winked and rolled her nipples. His hand went right down to his stiff prick and he pumped twice before she said, “Ah-ah, save that for me.”
She put a little more oil on her fingers then set the bottle down on the dresser. Kit clenched his teeth to keep from moving while she padded across the wood floor.
In a moment, she was back down on the pillow. Her slick hands were all over his cock and even his sac—Lord help him. She oiled him everywhere but the slit.
Her mouth was hot on the tip of his shaft and he finally had to grip the covers. How much more could he take?
Violet lifted her breasts and wrapped them around his cock. She slid them up and down, stroking and massaging his erection until he could barely see straight. Holy hell. There was no way he’d be able to hold back.
The woman was wicked. There was no denying it now. She’d turned the tables on him and now he had the losing hand. But God, did it feel good.
“Wicked, wicked widow. Did you take lessons from a courtesan?”
Violet grinned. “No. I am quick on my feet and I’ve had a little bit of practice with getting creative when necessity required it.”
He didn’t want to think about her past or his. “But you are not on your feet madam.”
“No, I am not.” She smiled. He should’ve known by the gleam in her eyes that she was up to something because the next thing he knew, she nipped his shaft with her teeth. The sharp sting sent a shiver through him.
“God’s blood, woman.”
“Should I make it up to you, my lord?” she asked, batting her lashes.
“Coquette.”
“Did you say cock?” She went back to licking and sucking him.
For the third time today, she’d surprised him. What polite gentlewoman used words like that? It was fine for men to use in private company or when he mingled with his boxers, but it was a word forbidden to a respectable lady.
Where had Violet learned such a word?
He didn’t have time to think about it. Supple breasts were gliding over his hard length, making him forget everything but the feel of her soft skin stroking him. She squeezed her breasts, tightening the grip.
Thrusting upward, he pushed his cock through the valley of her breasts over and over until his balls were tighter than a screw.
His moans increased as his control spiraled far out of reach. “God help me,” he groaned.
“Well, the good Lord isn’t here, but I’ll do my best in his place.” She gave him another one of her impudent looks before she licked the head of his prick and blew on it. The cool breeze sent shivers through his entire body.
Violet took hold of his shaft and tapped the tip on her nipples. First the right, then the left. Then she repeated the process.
He couldn’t hold back anymore. When she took him between her breasts once more, his cock exploded, his semen splashing over her neck and breasts. She licked the rest from the head.
“You are far too wicked for your own good,” he said as soon as he could regain his breath.
“The question is: are you wicked enough?”
“Do not test me.”
“Hmmm. Why not?”
“Keep pushing me and you will find out.” The woman had a mouth more tart than a lemon.
He reached for the pile of towels on the night stand and wiped the traces of his seed from her neck and breasts. Though he couldn’t help but fondle them. They were still slick from the oil and he loved the feel of his thumbs sliding over her nipples. I could do this all day, he thought.
“Not quite wicked, though you are getting warmer.”
He pinched her left nipple, squeezing firmly. “Your saucy mouth is going to get you into trouble.”
She bit his finger, rubbing her teeth back and forth over it.
“That is it. You have pushed too far!”
He stood up then grabbed her waist and draped her over the bed so that she was bent in half. She still wore her kid boots and stockings.
When Violet turned to say something, he put his hands on her neck and gently pushed her back down to the bed. He looked down at her derrière, admiring each curve and glimpsing a peek at her sex. It dripped with her arousal.
“You are an impertinent, brazen woman who does not know when to hold her tongue.”
“I think my tongue did quite well at holding your manhood.”
“You will learn.” He would punish her thoroughly and make her so wet she would spill her silky come all over the covers. One thing that had not changed about him was that he never shied from a challenge, even one issued by the most delectable creature he’d ever met.
He was the Marquess of Kittrick. Obstinacy was bred into him like loyalty into a hound. He remembered! It had been there on the edge of his awareness this week. He remembered his sister’s name and her stern face and flashes of his mother and father, but his full name had teased the edges of his mind.
Now he knew it. Daniel Cosgrove, Marquess of Kittrick and Earl of Stanwick. Though he preferred to go by Kit. When he boxed outside of a gentleman’s club, he often used the pseudonym of Kit Daniels.
“I remain as uneducated as I was minutes ago. When will my studies begin?”
Violet brought him back to the present. As elated as he was to finally have a name, he could not forget about his dark promise.
He sat beside her on the bed, which sunk under his weight, so he had to move her into a better position. With a gentle sweep of his fingers, he stroked the elegant curve of her back. Once. Twice. Next, he brushed his hand over her round bottom. He massaged the soft mounds with both hands, even letting his thumbs skim her sex.
Though he would love to bend down and explore the open petals of her pussy, it wasn’t time for that. So he lulled her into relaxing with tender strokes until he felt her go pliant.
With a crack, he slapped one side, then the other.
“Oww!”
“Quiet.” He smacked her bottom again. A tell-tale flush had spread over her alabaster skin. “You could have spared yourself, but you chose to goad me. Now your derrière will pay the price.”
“I could scream,” she warned.
“No doubt you will,” he replied with a smile. “But do you think anyone will come since they’ve no doubt already heard the moans coming from this room?”
She did not respond.
“No wise remark? Good, you are learning.” He rewarded her by sliding his fingers over her pussy, stroking until she gasped.
“Please,” she whispered.
His response involved another crack against her left cheek. She whimpered and he slapped the right side.
When he could count to twenty and she’d made no sound, he slid his finger into her wetness. The temptation to suck her slick petals and rub the little nub at the top of her sex was too enticing. He could give her the release she so badly needed.
Already his shaft came back to life and he wanted to fuck her.
But today wasn’t about fucking. She’d given him such immense pleasure and stolen something from him that no woman ever had before. He would see to it that she came—hard and frenzied—but he would teach her not to push him too far.
Violet shimmied and he realized he hadn’t moved for a while. He loved watching her beg, even if no words escaped from her lips—especially then.
He bent down and kissed her bottom. He licked and sucked a spot on one side then nibbled the other side. All the while, his fingers quested, exploring her quim in slow, measured strokes.
“I can be generous,” he said, whispering close to her ear. “But never forget that I am the wicked one, my dear.” In a steady rhythm, he spanked her several times. Not so hard as to bruise, but enough that she would feel the sting.
A small squeal made him ease up on the sweet torture. He could push her farther, but he decided he’d rather watch her unravel before him. Taking three fingers, he thrust into her pussy. She lifted her bottom and he kissed it.
Violet loved her punishmen
t. He would have to keep that in mind. He’d been wrong about how strong a finessing she needed, but he’d been right that he could fulfill his every fantasy with her.
With every jab of his fingers, she moaned. At one point she even tried to grab his arm and push him deeper. This time instead of punishing her, he spread her thighs apart and angled her so that his fingers would get maximum reach.
If only he had one of those phalluses that he’d seen on the Continent. He’d drive its long length inside of her until she couldn’t take it anymore. It would never be as good as a real cock, but he’d enjoy watching her with it.
When she whimpered helplessly, he bent down to whisper again. “Soon, my love. Soon you will be flying.” He pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his thumb, so that he could stroke the hood of her sex while he thrust into her cunt.
As he played and stroked, he bit down on her shoulder. Then her back. She seemed close, but she hadn’t fallen over the cliff yet.
Reaching under her with his free hand, he cupped her breast. He rolled her nipple in his fingers, teasing it. Her hips gyrated faster over his hand, which was now covered in her juices. Kit pinched her nipple and her little nubbin at the same moment.
Spasms shook Violet’s body and she mumbled incoherencies. A flood of her honey spread over his fingers and he knew she’d found heaven.
He kissed the side of her face. She lay quietly shivering, so he pulled his hand from her body and grabbed a towel from the pile. He wiped her sex, then his own fingers, but not before slipping one into his mouth to taste her.
“Next time, I will kiss you until you scream.”
“What?” She looked up dazedly.
“I will taste you and draw the honey from your body, stroking you there,” he swept his hand over her sex, “until you fall to pieces in my mouth.”
“Oh!” She shivered again.
He grabbed a blanket and draped it over her before climbing onto the bed and joining her. Cradling her against his chest, he listened to her breathe until he fell asleep.
Chapter Seven
Violet woke to the sound of snoring and the feel of solid arms wrapped around her. She was naked, so she felt every bit of the male body pressed against her back.
A Marquess for Christmas Page 8
