“Yes . . .” She panted and pushed up against his hand, trying to rub her engorged little bud against his evasive fingers. “I want . . . oh! . . . I . . . want . . .”
He loved how she was becoming less coherent, more feverish. His strong, spirited Silvie was unraveling, and watching it happen before his eyes hardened his cock to painful proportions.
“What do you want?” He was stroking the slit of her sex, milking more heated responses. He liked the sound of her moans, her occasional little wiggle and lifting of her bottom.
“I . . . I want . . . you . . . inside me.”
“As you wish.” He thrust two fingers into her tight warm core.
She let out a sound, a mixture of a cry and a sob, her hips jerking hard. Holding her firmly, he immediately went to work on that sweet hot spot inside her feminine walls, giving it short quick strokes that made her buck, her legs shake. She whimpered and tried to squirm away. Knowing the sensations over that sensitive gland were deliciously intense, Mathias tightened his hold, keeping her in place, letting her get used to the erotic sensation, without playing with her clit, all the while plying steady skillful strokes.
His name rushed past her lips on a pant. She was wiggling harder, unable to hold still. He soothed her with words, coaxed her along, encouraging her to give herself over to the pleasure, telling her how good she felt around his fingers, how hard a release he was going to give her.
Within moments, she was widening her legs, giving him easier access, and rocking her hips with mouthwatering allure. She’d dropped her chin, her hair hiding her face, her trembling now stronger than before. Her breathing was choppy and her sex had soaked his busy fingers with more juices.
Mathias drove her straight to the edge. “You’re going to come for me, without holding back in any way.” It wasn’t a question.
“Y-Yes!” She confirmed what he could feel around his fingers. If he wasn’t so hard, his cock so unbearably full, he might have smiled.
No hesitation there. Just sweet surrender.
Her orgasm hit her hard, wrenching a scream from her. Silvie stiffened.
With lightning movements, Mathias pulled his hand out of her contracting sheath, yanked off the sheet around his waist, and stuffed a pillow under her hips to keep her bottom angled.
He filled her quivering core with one fluid stroke, pushing his whole length into her, knowing she liked it deep. She mewed a welcome, followed by a shiver of delight, accepting his possession, taking his deep long thrusts, her slick walls decadently pulsing around him.
He basked in those wild uncontrollable clenches, holding back his climax, shaking with the effort. Her body sucking him in with each glorious spasm, she was hot and soft and exquisitely snug; she had the most incredible cunt he’d ever known.
Just as her contractions began to ebb, his control snapped. Ecstasy slammed into him. He pulled out, his semen shooting from his cock with stunning force, pouring himself onto her sweet bottom, until he was completely drained.
Collapsing onto his back beside her, he was as boneless as she. It took him several moments before he could calm his breathing and move his muscles. Grabbing her chemise, he cleaned them both, tossed the thing to the floor, and gently eased the pillow from under her hips.
Her breathing almost normal, she rolled onto her side facing him, her hands tucked under her cheek. Propped up on his elbow, he gazed into her eyes, noting the softness in the look she was giving him—the very same softness he’d seen last eve. They lay there in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. In fact, there was a deep serenity to it, the likes of which he’d never experienced before.
He caressed her cheek, allowing himself to enjoy the features of her lovely face. She had no exotic coloring, but she was a classic beauty. A dangerous beauty. The kind that could bring a man to his knees, if he wasn’t careful. And Dieu, he loved her height. He never had to stoop to kiss her. She fit perfectly with his body, as though she were made for him.
In the quiet of the moment, he didn’t sense a wall between them, that barrier she kept between her and the rest of the world. The look in her eyes was far from detached and he fully expected her to erect a barrier posthaste.
Taking advantage of her amenable state, he said, “You’ve given me your innocence, but you won’t tell me about you. You can trust me with your secrets, just as you’ve trusted me with your body. I won’t hurt you, Silvie. I won’t betray your confidence or turn your secrets against you.” He cradled her cheek in his palm. She lowered her gaze. Mathias placed a soft kiss on her lips, wishing he knew her thoughts. Wishing he knew how to silence this incessant desire to know more about her. “Tell me something, anything about yourself. Something I don’t already know.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” she responded with as much sincerity in her eyes as in her tone.
He was taken aback by the endearing comment.
Tenderly, he stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”
She put her arms around him, snuggled up against him. “I’m glad I met you,” she whispered in his ear. “That’s something I’ve never told anyone else.”
Her words took him by surprise and melted his heart.
He pulled her tightly against him, his arms acting on their own volition, returning her embrace, unable to dispel the notion that this was so right. Unable to silence the tender emotions welling inside him.
Merde. Two powerful orgasms with this woman had him undone.
Once the sexual haze dissipated, he fully expected to return to his old self. The last woman he should involve himself with was one with as many secrets as Silvie had.
Gabrielle closed her eyes, relishing the simple pleasure of being in the circle of his strong arms. She felt safe and, God help her, protected. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. The temptation to reveal all to him was so great.
She couldn’t.
She was going to hold on to this last level of detachment. This final bit of distance. Why open herself up totally? She’d have to leave him soon and it would only hurt more if she did. It was clear the longer she spent with him, the more she fell under his spell. She’d already opened herself up to him more than anyone else.
There were a thousand reasons why she should end this now. Why she should send him home. And only one reason why he should remain.
Contentment.
Near him, she felt content. It was novel. It was wonderful. And oh so irresistible.
Married or not, there were many more empty years ahead of her. Did she have the strength to deny herself more of this man?
Lifting her head, she met his beautiful light-colored eyes, and then the words she’d been grappling with tumbled from her lips. “Will you stay?”
7
“Ten wins. Six loses.”
Mathias couldn’t believe it. She had won another sept-et-le-va. How fortunate could one person be in a game that was mathematically stacked against the player, in favor of the banker?
Her winnings tonight had more than covered the losses from the last game.
Though he knew she was pleased, she did an excellent job schooling her features. Not acting exuberant in any way. No one who gambled at Basset celebrated each win.
Not when luck was a fickle mistress. At times she loved you. More often, she left you.
Especially in Basset.
He hated this game with a passion. Too many tragedies had occurred because of it.
Not an hour ago, another prominent family had come to ruin. At the table next to him, the Baron de Tremblay had lost his entire fortune. Mathias’s very entrails twisted in his gut watching the man leave Navers’s drawing room sobbing.
Silvie was just as grief-stricken for the man. Mathias had seen it flash in her eyes before she masked the emotion.
He wasn’t experiencing any of Silvie’s good fortune.
He couldn’t concentrate. Not just because of Tremblay’s loss. It was
Valette. The police sergeant’s eyes had been on him the entire night. Valette was at the next table over and he could actually feel the weasel’s stare.
Casting a glance in Valette’s direction, he locked eyes with the man.
Mathias looked back at his cards, fighting the urge to gnash his teeth.
Something wasn’t right. Ever since yesterday when Valette had paid him another visit, he couldn’t shake his feeling of unease. Valette told him that Sard wanted more names.
Twenty players were in attendance. So far, he’d managed to decipher the identities of a total of seventeen of them.
But there was something else going on. He had a gnawing feeling that something was going to happen.
Something was being hatched by Sard and his sergeant that Mathias wasn’t privy to. In the pit of his belly, he feared there might be a raid on the Duc’s home.
Every time the door opened, Mathias lost his focus and tensed.
Valette had said he wanted the names of all in attendance. He kept insisting that everyone had to be made accountable. That it was important that the arrests would be numerous.
There was one name he couldn’t give.
Mathias pulled his gaze to Silvie. Even if he knew her name, he’d never tell Sard or Valette. Short of telling her about his mission, he’d done his damnedest over the last few days to convince her to stay away from Navers’s gaming table.
To no avail.
She’d donned her male attire and here she was, winning a small fortune, just as she’d predicted. Merde, her breasts were bound, her head covered with that ridiculous periwig, and her feminine form completely concealed, and he was hard just looking at her, knowing under all that was Silvie.
He’d spent the last four glorious days with his beautiful Snow Princess sitting in the courtyard of her town house, under the sun’s warm rays, listening to her read him her favorite poems. He’d developed an appreciation for poetry he’d never had before. Poetry didn’t mix with his previous life of vice.
And then there were the magnificent nights sharing carnal delights with Silvie. He only pulled himself away from her a few hours a day to change his clothes and attend to matters at home.
There was no finer bliss than time with this complex, fascinating woman. But their time was running out.
There were only a few days more until the next Basset game at Navers’s home. Then she’d be gone. He tried his hardest to ignore the ache that thought left in his chest. It was even harder to push away gut-wrenching thoughts of her married to another man, and his claiming his conjugal rights.
This wasn’t his normal reaction to the imminent end of an affair.
Every day that brought him closer to the date of her departure increased his emotional turmoil. He was riddled with tender feelings for a woman who was still a mystery, his ceaseless desire to know everything about her adding to his inner torment. As was his mission—one he couldn’t tell her a damned thing about.
And he hated, loathed all the secrets between them.
“Queen wins. Seven loses.”
Mathias’s body went rigid. Merde. She’d just lost her wager. A tidy sum.
Silvie rose, surprising him. “I’ve had enough,” she announced, and scooped up her winnings. Mathias couldn’t have been more relieved to see her go. The sooner she got out of here, the better. At least she’d heeded his advice about leaving the table once her luck had turned. She was still walking out with a sizable win.
Navers rose. “Why leave so soon? Stay for another game.”
Never one to be told what to do, his Snow Princess icily remarked, “I’ll see you at the next game.” Then she walked around the Duc and left the room.
Mathias wanted nothing more than to leave with her, but Valette was watching and he decided he’d play another hour.
Gabrielle tucked her pouch of diamonds and winnings back under her mattress.
She wasn’t sleeping much at night. Mathias and his delicious kisses and decadent lovemaking were the new cause for her sleeplessness.
But she didn’t mind. She gloried in it, grateful for knowing him, for having created memories to cherish.
Removing her periwig, she let down her hair and sat on the edge of her bed in her men’s attire. The hour was late and she wasn’t going to bother changing.
Mathias would be leaving the gaming den and arriving soon. Before he intoxicated her with his touch, she was going to have a talk with him.
The devastating loss by one of the players tonight had shaken her.
Seeing the abject horror in Mathias’s eyes as the man left sobbing had astounded her.
The reaction seemed out of place—too strong for a seasoned gambler like Mathias. He had to have seen losses of that magnitude before. More often than she had.
Equally baffling was the way he kept looking around, as though he was expecting someone.
Footsteps in the corridor yanked her from her thoughts. She rose in anticipation. Within moments Mathias walked into her bedchamber. He smiled when he saw her.
A smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Congratulations on your win,” he said, taking off his justacorps and tossing it on a nearby chair. “You’re thrilled, no doubt.” He started on the buttons on his vest.
Her insides danced as she watched him undress.
“Yes. I am thrilled. Mathias, there is something I’d like to know.”
He tossed off the vest and raked a hand through his long dark hair. “Do you have any brandy?” he asked, completely ignoring her statement.
She frowned, but walked over to a wooden cabinet in her bedchamber and opened the doors. Her uncle had a crystal decanter filled with his favorite brandy and crystal glasses there.
The moment Mathias saw the decanter, he marched over. “Allow me,” he said.
She stepped away and watched him pour himself an ample amount and drain the crystal vessel just as quickly. To her astonishment, she saw the tremor in his hand as he lifted a fresh goblet to his lips.
“Mathias.” She stepped forward, took the goblet from his grip, and set it back down in the cabinet. “What is amiss?”
It was his turn to frown. “What are you taking about?” He walked away undoing his cravat.
“You are in distress. It’s rather obvious. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He tossed the cravat onto the chair and held out a hand. “Come here.” She knew that tone. It was carnal in nature. The moment she took his hand, he’d pull her close, kiss her, and scramble her senses.
“No. We need to talk.”
“Merde, Silvie. The last thing I feel like doing tonight is talking.”
“Mathias, why won’t you answer me? Why won’t you tell me why you are so upset?”
“Jésus-Christ!” The words exploded from his mouth, making her jump. “Woman, do you jest? You are actually making demands of me when you won’t answer the most basic question?” He was all but hollering at her.
She’d never seen him like this and she refused to let this escalate into a heated argument by raising her tone in return. Not when he was so overwrought. “I am simply concerned about you,” she responded softly.
It was clear her gentle voice had impact. He let out a sharp sigh and placed his hands on his hips. “Silvie, I don’t want to argue with you, chère. Dieu, I just plain want you. I just want to hold you and make love to you and forget about everything, including your imminent departure.”
At the mention of her leaving, her heart constricted painfully. She walked up to him, laced her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. His strong arms encircled her, holding her tightly. Tears stung her eyes and threatened to spill. She blinked them back and composed herself.
The moment she met his gaze, he cupped her face and lowered his mouth onto hers. His kiss was soft and tender and made her ache. Heart and body.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” slipped past her lips when he broke the kiss.
He rested his forehead against hers.
“So do I.”
Lovingly, she caressed his cheek. “Are you all right?”
“Seeing someone lose everything bothers me,” he responded, surprising her.
“It was evident on your face.”
“I lost a close friend a few months ago. He took his life after losing all that he owned in a Basset game.”
She cupped his face and gave him a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry, Mathias. Why do you still play if seeing losses upsets you so?”
At that he pulled away from her. “I just do.” His tone was tight.
“Is there something you’re not telling me about Navers’s gaming den? You were always looking at the door.”
He cocked his head slightly. “Did you win enough to cover the debt?”
Changing the subject wasn’t a good sign. “No. I had almost enough, but then I lost some.”
“Does that mean you’ll be returning in a few days to play a final game?”
“Yes.”
“Silvie, why don’t you let me give you the rest?”
Taking his hands, she pulled him toward the bed. Her mind and heart were in wild conflict and she was afraid to answer questions in such a vulnerable state. “I believe you said something about wanting me?” She stopped when the back of her legs bumped the bed. Releasing his hands, she began to open her breeches.
He had the remainder of his clothing off by the time she had the breeches undone and stripped off. He removed her cravat, then her linen shirt, and finally the binding around her chest. Picking her up, he deposited her gently on the bed and stretched out on top of her.
The hot press of his solid body against her set her blood on fire, made her sex tighten.
He dipped his head and grazed his mouth along her neck, a slow fiery path that ignited her senses. “Who is this woman I kiss?” he whispered in her ear. “The one who gave her innocence to me.” He spread her legs with his knees and stroked his cock along her slick folds. A soft moan slipped past her lips. “She’s wet for me,” he groaned. “She gives herself to me . . . comes for me . . . She’s given me such pleasure and yet I may never know who she is . . .”
The Princess in His Bed Page 27
