He yanked off his cravat and then his jacket before setting to work on his vest. Tossing the offending clothes on the bed, he then pulled his shirt over his head. He yearned to throw something far more substantial than a mere piece of linen. Unable to do anything else, he rolled his shirt into a ball and flung it across the room.
“I’m so sorry.”
In his impotent rage, he hadn’t even heard the door open. His head tilted backward as he stared at the ceiling. The hushed tones of her voice floated past him, caressing him, enticing him. But the last thing he wanted was to discuss anything with her. There would be plenty of time for talking after she became his wife.
“Leave me be,” he replied in a low voice.
“Matthew, please…I’m sorry,” she cried out from her position by the door.
“Get the bloody hell out of my room, Jennette. You’re only sorry because you witnessed firsthand what my life’s been like for the past five years.”
“I cannot do this any longer,” she whispered. “This is all my f—fault.”
“Yes, it is.” The moment the words were out, he regretted them.
“I have to fix this.”
He flexed his fists. “Nothing can ever mend this mess.”
“I know,” she cried. “It’s all my fault.”
Hearing the anguish in her voice, his heart softened. He knew if John hadn’t begged him to protect her, this scandal would have been over quickly. The ton would have understood what happened that day to be nothing more than an accident, but no one could understand two accidental deaths caused by him.
“No, it’s not your fault.”
“It is. I should never have let John do this to you. He had no right to make you his pawn.”
He knew without looking that she was crying. A part of him wanted to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right. But he couldn’t because nothing would ever be all right again. His life was an utter disaster.
“I have to tell them,” she sobbed. “I have to let everyone know that I killed John.”
He spun around to face her and his heart ached. She covered her face with her hands as she slowly slid down the length of the door until she was crouched on her haunches.
“I have to tell them,” she mumbled into her hands.
“No, you will not,” he stated firmly before striding to her. He lifted her up and cupped her face with his hands. “I promised I would protect your name. You will never tell a soul what happened that morning.”
“But—”
“Never.” He stared into her watery, sapphire eyes until he wanted to drown in their depths. The pain he saw there broke his heart. He couldn’t let her feel such anguish over his name. He’d lived with this lie for five years. He could live with it forever as long as it didn’t touch her.
“It was wrong to let everyone believe such a horrid untruth,” she protested.
“You will not tell anyone.”
Before she could argue with him again, he lowered his lips to hers. Gently, he kissed her full lips, before moving to her salty cheeks. He wanted to comfort her, ease her pain and guilt. Kissing her tears away, he felt her shudder.
He was only kissing her to comfort her, he told himself. Make her feel better for the pain she’d caused him. Yet, the more her tongue touched his, the more he could care less about comforting her.
He wanted to feel her quiver under him in ecstasy as she reached her climax. He wanted to touch her small breasts, feel them, and suckle them until she gasped. Moving his lips back to hers, he pulled her against his bare chest. Her body molded to his as if made just for him.
Jennette moved her tongue against his as her need for comfort changed into so much more—desire. Yearning to feel his hard muscles on top of her, she skimmed her hands up his bare arms. His muscles tensed as she reached his shoulders and finally draped her arms around his bare neck. Arching her back, she sought comfort and passion from the one man she’d never expected to want her.
She shouldn’t want this from him. But she did. He was the only man who could absolve her guilt, lessen the pain she constantly fought.
She wanted to feel his muscles under her fingertips. She wanted to taste him. Trailing her lips across his cheek, she needed so much more than just kisses.
Taking control back, he blazed his hot lips down to her neck.
“Jennette,” he murmured against her neck. “This is madness.”
“Yes,” she whispered as her head leaned against the door. “Good madness.”
“Bloody beautiful madness.”
His hands moved to her hair and the pins that held it up dropped to the floor in a symphony of pinging tones. She couldn’t take her gaze off his eyes. Usually a light gray, his eyes turned a darker shade as passion ruled his emotions.
They stared at each other for a long moment. He was giving her a chance to leave, she thought. Again, being the honorable man. But her feet wouldn’t move. Her mouth would not let her speak the words to make him stop because she didn’t want to stop.
Just once, her mind pleaded, and then you’ll know what it’s like.
His lips returned to hers, this time hardened with desire, not soft with comfort. She eagerly accepted his rougher kisses. As her tongue reached for his, molten heat spread from her mouth to her belly. The strangest sensations radiated from her stomach, lower to her womb. Unconsciously, her hips moved closer to him, closer to his heat.
When his hand skimmed down her back, he pressed her nearer and she felt the hardness of his erection. His fingers worked on the few tiny buttons on her gown.
“I want to see you wearing nothing,” he whispered as he slid her gown down. “Nothing but your beautiful hair covering parts of your body.”
Jennette bit down on her lip as she watched him drink in her body. Far from naked, she still wore her stays, petticoats, shift, draws, shoes, and stockings. But seeing the look in his eyes, she felt as if she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on her body.
“Turn around, Jennette.”
A little nervous tremor raced down her spine but she did as he requested. She felt his fingers work to unlace her stays. He kissed her shoulder while he loosened and finally removed them.
He pushed her hair away and his lips spread warmth across her back. A little shudder shook her body when he untied her petticoats and let them drop to the floor on top of her gown. He was right when he said this was madness. Facing the door, she closed her eyes as he brought her shift and her drawers over her hips.
Oh God, she stood there wearing nothing but her embroidered stocking and dancing shoes. She peeked back to see his lips tilt upward in a feral smile. He skimmed his fingers over the roundness of her bottom. Crouching down, he then removed her garters and her stockings fell to her ankles.
He picked up her foot, removed her shoe, and slowly traced his finger down from her thigh to her foot, removing the stockings as he went. His lips replaced his finger, warm, wet kisses trailed up her leg. He nipped the back of her calf as he moved upward.
“You have the most beautiful long legs,” he whispered against the back of her knee. His hands slid from her thighs down to her ankles. “I want to feel them wrapped around my hips.”
“Yes,” she moaned softly. The urge to wrap herself around him was too great to ignore. She’d wanted this for so long. Tonight, she would have him all to herself.
“Soon,” he replied, moving the last shred of clothing on her body. He repeated the motion of removing her other stocking and kissing her leg. Only this time, he didn’t stop at her thigh.
She groaned as his lips blazed a fiery heat up her buttocks. As his lips kissed her behind, his hands cupped her breasts. Her head rolled back as he rubbed his thumb over her taut nipple sending a rush of moist heat to her core.
Slowly, he brought his hands down her belly and lower until his fingers brushed through her private hair. No man had ever touched her there. But it felt so right when he did. Spreading her folds apart, she shivered as his fin
gers crossed over her sensitive nub.
“You’re so ready for me,” he said as he slipped a finger deep inside her.
Waves of pleasure pulsed from her womb, spreading through her body. The sensations increased as he glided his finger in and out of her, replicating the actions she knew would happen in a few moments. Thankfully, her mother had not been shy in telling her everything a man did to his wife. And even though Matthew would never be her husband, she had tonight with him. And that would have to be enough.
“I want you now.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Now, please.”
He stood and turned her around to face him. Lowering his lips to her, he whispered, “Mine.”
If only that could be true.
She felt him fumble with his breeches and wondered when he would take her to his bed. The idea of him covering her with his hard body caused a shiver to race through her. Instead, he pinned her to the door and lifted her legs.
“Wrap your legs around my waist, Jennette.” His voice sounded raspy as if he were as overwhelmed with desire as she was.
She did what he’d requested and felt his erection at the entrance to her womanhood. He couldn’t mean to…he lifted her slightly up and brought her down on top of him.
“Ahh,” she cried out as he pushed through her maidenhead. The pain of his rough entry forced tears down her cheeks.
Matthew went still as the realization of what happened hit him. She wasn’t supposed to be a virgin. John had told him—Oh God, John had lied.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
Gently he carried her to the bed and placed her down. Tears tracked down her cheeks. Tears he’d caused. He pushed her hair off her face and stared at the beautiful woman he’d hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling utterly helpless and insensitive.
“Why did you believe I wasn’t a virgin?” she whispered.
Seeing the pain in her eyes, he had no choice but to tell her the truth. “John had implied…”
She pressed her lips together as more tears fell down her face. “He really said that about me?”
He gently placed his forehead on hers. “I’m sorry, Jennette. If I had known the truth…”
She raked her hands through his hair and gave him a watery smile. “It’s all right. It’s done now.”
“No, it’s not. I was a boorish brute and—”
She cut off his words with a passionate kiss. Pulling away slowly, she smiled at him, causing his heart to pound.
“I was told the first time could be painful.”
“It didn’t have to be that way. I didn’t know. I was insensitive and—”
“I’m feeling a little better. I think I’m getting used to you in there.”
“Oh?” His cock pulsed in anticipation.
“Maybe a few more kisses and we can try this again?” She skimmed her fingers down his chest in a flirty manner.
“As many as you want,” he said, lowering his head to hers again. Her soft lips opened for him and they found each other.
Steeled with control, he kissed down her chin, her neck, and chest until he found the little nub of her breast. Bringing it into his mouth, he heard her moan.
“Yes, more like that,” she whispered.
With those encouraging words, he moved to her other nipple. Suckling deeply, he felt her quiver under him. Moist heat surrounded his shaft and he couldn’t help but move slightly.
“Oh,” she exclaimed.
Damn. “Did that hurt?”
“No, please do that again.”
“With pleasure,” he whispered.
Slowly, he withdrew from her and then gently reentered her wetness. He watched her face for any sign of discomfort but only saw her eyes widen as he reached the apex of her. Confident that the worst was over, he repeated the motion faster and felt her close around him. He had to remain in control. He had to make this pleasurable for her.
She shifted her hips, bringing her legs higher on his waist, sending him in deeper. This time they both moaned as the sensation drew them together in timeless ecstasy.
“Matthew,” she whispered.
The sound of her voice urged him on. Wanting nothing more than to lose himself in her body, he increased his motions. He brought his fingers down on her clitoris, desperate for her to find her release.
Jennette moaned again as he touched her most sensitive spot. Sensations rolled like waves through her body as he stroked her. Climbing higher, she felt the pleasure radiating outward, upward until she clutched his shoulders and closed her eyes. Thousands of tiny stars lit up and she reached her release.
He increased his speed, stroking her harder as he reached for her hips and plunged in deeper. He groaned her name over and over as he spilled his seed into her. As he collapsed on top of her, they both struggled to regain control of themselves.
Jennette caressed his hair, as he nipped at her shoulder with his teeth. Her body felt sore and languid and ever so wonderful.
He lifted himself up slightly and smiled down at her. Her heart raced with the tilt of his lips. Gladness struck her as she thought about him being her first lover. The one man she’d wanted for years.
“I should leave,” she said, caressing his cheek with her hand.
He grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. “Not yet.”
“People will wonder where I am,” she protested.
“Let them wonder. No one down there gives a bloody damn about either one of us unless they can gossip about it.”
She tilted her head and stared at him. “I know, but my mother is one of them and she does care.”
He closed his eyes. “Just a few minutes more.”
She couldn’t resist the pleading look on his face. And truthfully, she had no desire to leave just yet. She wanted to savor every moment, every second she had with him. She would need these memories to keep her warm once she left the country.
They moved back against the pillows and covered their nakedness with the coverlet. He pulled her close so her head rested on his shoulder. Unable to keep her eyes open, she drifted off to sleep in the arms of the man who knew her deepest secrets. Or at least most of them…
Jennette watched Matthew as he showed his skill with the rapier. John parried and returned each thrust with less expertise until it became apparent to her that Matthew was holding back. Finally, John gave in and looked over at her.
“Do you want to have a try at it, Jennette?”
Matthew glared at his friend. “That is not a good idea, John. The grass is wet.”
“I’ll be perfectly all right,” she retorted. “I’ve been practicing with Banning since I was ten.” She held out her hand for the rapier.
“There is no plug on it,” Matthew warned again. “The tip is very sharp.”
Jennette shook her head. She’d show him what she was capable of, at least with a sword. “I can handle a sword.”
She grabbed the sword from the handsome man. His long, thick fingers held on to hers for a moment. A spark of awareness shot up her arm. His chestnut hair was shorter today as if his valet had just cut it. But she shouldn’t be noticing him.
“Come along, then.” John took his position.
She stood across from him and tried to concentrate on him, her betrothed. But she knew her feelings for John had changed over the past two months. She didn’t feel the attraction for John that he felt for her.
Her gaze slid to Matthew, who sat on the bench frowning at them both. He shook his head as he watched them. Jennette’s hand shook as she drew the rapier in front of her. As she stepped forward, she slid a glance to Matthew to see if he was watching.
But as she pressed forward, determined to gain his attention, her foot slipped on the grass and she fell toward John….
Chapter 14
Jennette woke with a start. Looking over at Matthew, her heart raced. It was true. John’s death was no accident. She had killed him. Her att
ention had been on Matthew, not on the wet grass, not on the sword in her hand…not on her betrothed.
Her gaze had been on Matthew.
Her mind on the words he’d said to her that day. Admitting he desired her. Telling her that he must leave because it hurt to watch them together. And that kiss. While she had pushed him away in shock, she’d known in that instant that John had never made her feel like Matthew had.
She glanced over at him and pressed her lips tightly together. She’d slept with him. She let him make love to her. This shouldn’t have happened. Never should she have let him do this to her.
What would John think of her? He’d loved her and she never returned his feeling as strongly as she should have.
What if she had killed him on purpose?
While she’d intended to break her engagement to John later that day, she had tried before but had lost her courage every time. Maybe unknowingly, she had found the easiest solution to her problem.
She covered her mouth with her shaking hands as she stared at the sleeping man. What had she done tonight! She’d given in to her wildest fantasies only to realize the truth. She was a terrible person. If not for her, John would be alive.
And Matthew wouldn’t be in the dreadful position in which he currently found himself.
Everything that had happened was due to her attraction to the wrong man. Why couldn’t she have loved John enough? He’d been a good man. Why couldn’t she keep her hands off Matthew? She’d ruined the lives of two good men. And why? Lust, desire, and yearning for something she should have left alone.
She was a horrible person.
Knowing she couldn’t stay in this room a moment longer, she carefully disentangled herself from the bedcovers. Her clothes lay in a heap by the door where he’d kissed her naked body only two hours ago. Quietly, she slipped on her undergarments until she picked up her stays and realized she’d never be able to get them on alone. It didn’t matter. She would run to her room.
Where her mother would be waiting for her, wondering why Jennette held her stays in her hand. Oh dear God, this couldn’t get any worse, could it? There had to be someone who could help her out of this mess. Her gaze landed on Matthew.
Every Time We Kiss Page 14
