Dangerous

by Minerva Spencer

  “My lord.” The two words hung in the air between them.

  “Yes?”

  “Do I need to summon Sayer?”

  He ducked his head, muttering something about the poor quality of help and she tugged the shirt off. Now there was only one thing between them. His eyes were half-closed as he watched her, watching him.

  Mia felt an overpowering urge to bite him, to gorge as if he were some rare and tasty delicacy that was only in season for a brief time. Instead she reached out and placed her hands flat on his chest, dragging her nails over the muscular ridges of his torso while she pushed him toward the bed. When his thighs hit the mattress she hiked her skirts up to her hips and straddled him. He lay still beneath her, his erection pulsing against her sensitive, swollen cleft.

  “Now then, I can begin,” she said.

  “Good God. You mean to tell me you are only now beginning?” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the bed.

  Mia laughed and took the oil from her nightstand. She drizzled the cold liquid on his bare chest.

  He gasped and looked up at her with hot, affronted eyes. “That was unkind.”

  “Mm,” she agreed absently, working the oil over his chest, spreading it like a canvas she was preparing for paint. The slick marble of his skin was quickly hot beneath her fingers and his erection provided some much-needed friction as she rubbed and stroked and kneaded the glorious muscles of his torso.

  “Hell and damnation,” he murmured, his muscles jumping beneath her firm, probing fingers. “I slept through this?” He opened one eye a silvery crack.

  “Well, I didn’t actually get this far,” she confessed.

  “Yes, well I’m glad—” He broke off with a guttural moan as she applied pressure to a knot in one of his shoulders. “Good God!” He shuddered as she worked down the length of one of his arms. “How did you learn to do such a thing?”

  “We practiced on one another in the harem.”

  The full body reaction her words evoked was more than a little amusing.

  “We’ll talk more about that later,” he murmured. “When I’m actually able to talk.”

  “I’m afraid you are out of questions, my lord.”

  He muttered something that sounded like duplicitous shrew and she laughed, working his arms from his shoulders to his hands, drawing more moans of pleasure before she finally sat back.

  “I am as limp as a wet rag.”

  “Not all of you,” she said. “I am finished with your front. Now, you must flip over.”

  “Oh, is that what I must do?” he asked, opening his eyes and lacing his hands behind his head, the action making the muscles of his chest and arms tighten and stretch in a mesmerizing fashion. He watched her openly admiring looks with an arrogant smirk and thrust his hips against her to show the direction of his thoughts.

  “But I am not finished,” she protested.

  He began to sit up, his eyes never leaving hers. “I shall finish you.”

  Before she could protest his hands latched on to her and he flipped her onto her back. She looked up at his triumphant face above her, his equally triumphant member pressed against her stomach, hard and hot through the fabric of her dress.

  He eyed the green silk. “Hmm, what manner of sartorial torture do you have for me this evening?” He squinted down at the multitude of tiny buttons that ran down the front of her gown. “Hell.”

  She reached out to help and he brushed her hands away. “No.”

  In spite of his complaint, his fingers made short work of not only the buttons, but several clasps and ties.

  He pulled open the front of her gown and his eyes burned.

  “Mmm.” He touched her with maddening softness, never coming anywhere near her aching nipples, his evil fingers tracing the outlines of her through the thin silk barrier of her chemise until she was ready to explode.

  “Adam,” she said through gritted teeth as his right hand ever so gently cupped her breast.

  “Yes?” He released her and met her eyes with an innocent, inquiring look.

  She glared, the relentless throbbing between her thighs robbing the situation of humor.

  “You are in a hurry?”

  “Yes,” she gritted out.

  “Let me see what I can do about that.” Instead of coming into her, he pulled away and backed down the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed apart her knees.

  Mia decided she would scream if he teased her even a second longer.

  As if reading her mind he gave her one of his rare smiles and shoved her skirt around her waist. He glanced up.

  “No drawers. How perceptive of you. Or did I mention my preference?” His husky voice made a lie of his light words. Strong, cool hands stroked the tops of her thighs and his eyes burned with pale blue fire as he watched himself slip a finger inside her.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  She bucked against his hand. “Kiss me, Adam. Pleasure me with your mouth.”

  A vein in his temple pulsed at her words.

  “As you wish.” His eyes locked with hers as he lowered his mouth.

  Mia shivered, rocked to the core by the soft heat of him and his clever teasing tongue.

  “Oh, Adam.” She tangled her hands in his hair, holding him while she moved against him. She’d been so close to her pleasure, it did not take him long to push her over the edge. She cried out as he brought on a succession of climaxes, each paroxysm more violent than the last. He held her hips firmly, covering her with gentle, probing kisses as he rode out the waves of bliss that wracked her body.

  Mia drifted in a haze, barely aware that he’d moved until his face was above hers.

  He came into her slowly and both of them made low sounds of satisfaction as he filled her. “My God, you feel good,” he whispered, his cheek pressed against hers, his breath hot on her ear. “I need to take you.”

  She answered by tilting her hips to take him even deeper and then squeezing the length of him until he moaned.

  “That was very naughty,” he gasped, drawing almost all the way out of her and then stroking into her hard and fast. The power of his thrust drove her up the bed and he rode her so hard she barely had the breath to cry out when the first climax overtook her. She choked with a combination of laughter and sobbing as he refused to let up. Just when she thought she could not take one more wave of overwhelming sensation and pleasure, he drove himself deep inside and stiffened, holding her tightly as he climaxed, his black curls damp against his brow, his body rigid and slick with sweat.

  “Bloody hell!” he moaned, just before he collapsed, still deep inside her.

  Mia laughed weakly. “Bloody hell,” she agreed, wishing he would stay where he was forever.

  * * *

  Adam awoke with a start, his eyes immediately assessing his surroundings, his brain lagging behind. He was still in his wife’s bed. He turned his head slightly to get a better view of the clock that stood on the nightstand. He encountered the wide-open eyes of his wife instead.

  “Good morning, Adam.” She smiled at him through a wild tangle of red hair.

  “Mm,” Adam nodded, disconcerted. “What time is it?” As if that mattered.

  “It is half six.” She surprised him into a seated position with the information.

  “I slept like a rock.” Pale yellow light was filtering through the gap between the blue velvet drapes.

  “Yes, like a rock,” she agreed, looking down toward the sheet that lay between them, inadequately concealing his morning erection.

  He gave her his best quelling look but she looked back at him, unquelled.

  “I apologize, my lady.” His voice was level and cold. “I had meant to return to my bed. I must have been more exhausted than I realized.”

  She took his wrist as he shoved back the blankets. “Don’t go.”

  He searched his foggy brain for something better than the real reason—that he was a besotted, cowardly fool afraid of his wife. “You need your rest.”<
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  “I have rested enough.” She stroked him above the sheet, one flame-colored brow cocked.

  Good Lord, she couldn’t mean ... ?

  She released his hand, pulled the sheet up, and ducked beneath it.

  She did.

  Adam was not accustomed to women wanting to make love in the broad light of day. In general, most of the females he’d bedded had squawked in terror at the first sign of light, locking themselves in their dressing rooms and not coming out until they were impeccably coiffed and dressed.

  Small hands snaked up his thighs and stopped at the juncture of his legs, expertly taking him in one hand while she insinuated herself between his legs, one hand reaching up and shoving gently against his chest. “Lie back.” The order was muffled, but clear enough.

  Adam fell back against the pillow. Maybe just this once? He couldn’t think of a good reason to go. After all, he’d already slept in her bed. Why not—his body jolted as she began stroking, his hips moving of their own accord.

  What harm could it do?

  Her expert touch sent him into an almost dreamlike state. She skillfully massaged his aching testicles while she stroked, the combination of sensations clearing any residual rational thoughts from his head. And then the wet softness of her mouth closed over him.

  A groan tore out of his throat and he had to fight the urge to fist his hands in her hair and ram himself into her. But she didn’t need any assistance from him. She worked him ruthlessly, taking him deeper than he thought possible and bringing him all too quickly to the brink of a shattering orgasm before abruptly stopping. He stared at the canopy with unfocused eyes as a low, sensual laugh rippled from her wicked mouth through his taut body. And then she nipped the sensitive skin of his head and released him, crawling up his body until her head poked out from under the sheet. Adam lifted his head to look at her. She had an insufferably smug look on her face.

  “You are so impatient,” she gently chided him, the words a mockery of his own from last night. She wiggled around under the sheet until she’d adjusted herself to her satisfaction, straddling him and sitting up, looming over him.

  “Now then, my lord. Have you been wicked?”

  Adam groaned. This would kill him.

  She lowered herself onto him—hard.

  Adam gasped and his hands moved instinctively toward her hips, preparing to assist her.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows. “It is my turn.” Her tone brooked no argument.

  Adam shrugged, compressed his lips into a bored frown, and laced his hands beneath his head. “As you wish.”

  The look of naked sensuality on her face was almost more arousing than her rhythmic grinding. He willed away his orgasm, not ready to give up the heady sight of her riding him. As her flush deepened one small hand crept between her thighs and found the place that gave her so much pleasure. Adam didn’t think he’d ever been harder in his entire life as he watched her work herself while riding him.

  Her other hand moved to her breast and stroked her erect nipples. Her back arched and her eyes closed and that was enough. He grabbed her hips and drove himself home.

  She fixed him with an unfocused gaze as he pounded into her. “Come with me, Adam.”

  Her words were the last straw and he convulsed against her with the sheer force of his orgasm, yelling out God-knows-what as he spent himself.

  She laughed with breathless delight as she gave in to her climax.

  Adam stared up at her as if poleaxed. He had never seen such a beautiful sight in his entire life. She was rosy and flushed, her glorious hair spiraling out in all directions. Her head fell back as if it were too heavy, her hands absently stroking her nipples before she dropped down beside him.

  “Mm.” She snaked an arm around his torso and buried her head in his side. “I’m hungry. Can we have breakfast in bed, Adam?”

  Adam laughed weakly. “You seem to be nothing but a collection of hungers.”

  His hand found its way into her hair and he twisted a long curly strand around his finger, absently inspecting the result.

  “Of course you may have breakfast in bed,” he said, the fiery red curl coiled around his finger making his chest tighten.

  “Will you stay with me, Adam? And perhaps bathe me?” The words were sleepy, yet eager. He stared at the red twist of hair, groping for the right words.

  “Adam?”

  “I will stay.” Thank God she could not see his face.

  She tightened her arm around him and sighed with contentment, snuggling closer. It took him a few minutes to realize she’d fallen asleep.

  Adam listened to her soft, rhythmic breathing and stared at the riot of hair spread across his body. It was like a living thing, like the strong, seeking tendrils of red seaweed, and it wove and wrapped itself around him. Its hold was inexorable and he was slipping beneath the waves, without even so much as a struggle.

  * * *

  Adam let Mia sleep while he took care of several issues that couldn’t wait.

  One of which was, of course, a fencing demonstration for his wife. After sending one footman to his fencing master, another with a draft for payment for the remainder of the work on the London building, and his groom to arrange the delivery of a new mare he’d purchased, Adam went back to his wife’s chambers to see if she was awake.

  The only difference in the room was that she’d turned onto her other side.

  Adam moved a tangled mass of curls from her face. The twist of bedding was barely covering her breasts. He drank her in with the hot greedy gaze of a lecher. Hundreds of tiny freckles dotted the skin of her chest and shoulders. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed slowly and heavily. In the light of day he could see the lines around her eyes and the somewhat deeper creases around her mouth—smile lines.

  Longing, lust, and fear flickered through his mind like quickly moving images outside a carriage window. She was so joyous and happy to please and be pleased. The impulse to hold her at arm’s length—a behavior he’d honed to near perfection—was strong. But now he’d enjoyed a taste of her warmth and he wanted more. And so had she, he told himself. It had been his wife who’d asked him to stay this morning. He hadn’t forced his company on her; she had asked for it.

  You fool.

  Adam ran the tips of his fingers over her delicate brow, smoothing back stray tendrils of hair. He leaned close to breathe in the spicy scent of her hair.

  She opened her eyes and a languorous smile crept across her face. “Mm. Good morning, Adam.”

  The sound of his name on her lips had the predictable effect on his groin.

  “Did I fall asleep?”

  “You proclaimed you were famished, told me I must wash you, and then dropped off to sleep.” He sat back and gave her what he hoped was a cool smile rather than the lustful, rutting leer that threatened to overtake his face the longer he contemplated last night ... and this morning.

  “I understand how exhausted you may be after last night. And this morning.” His lips twitched. “But I wanted to get you out of bed just long enough to give you something.” He abruptly rose from the bed at the look of joy on her face, which threatened to unman him.

  “A surprise?” She pushed back the covers, stretching and yawning, naked and unashamed.

  Adam’s eyes dropped to the small green gem resting in the swell of her belly. He had a powerful urge to drop before her right now and bury his face in the tangle of red hair. Was he demented to be dragging her out of bed?

  “Is there anything amiss, my lord?” She stood only a few inches away, twisting her hair quickly into a rope and then winding it into a knot as she blinked up at him.

  Adam prayed he wasn’t gaping or drooling. “No, there is nothing amiss,” he lied. Her obvious comfort with her nudity was intriguing, disturbing, and arousing, among other things.

  She strode to her dressing table and took up a pair of pointed, smooth sticks, which she jammed into her hair at odd angles, keeping the
heavy bun firmly at the back of her head. The clever trick distracted him and his eyes followed her as she moved toward the bellpull and then halted. “Shall I order breakfast and a bath or have you already done so?” she asked.

  There was no hurry about introducing her to the mare.

  “Both sound delightful.” He watched her from beneath lowered lids, like some hole-and-corner pervert.

  Mia pulled the bell and then poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher that sat on the console table. She was refilling the glass when the door swung open and one of the housemaids entered. The girl’s jaw came unhinged and her eyes fixed on the naked backside of her mistress.

  He lurched to his feet. “Come back in five minutes.”

  The door clicked shut almost before the words left his mouth.

  Mia glanced behind her and then cut him a puzzled look. “What is it, my lord?” She absently scratched one of her shoulders, her forearm brushing the tips of her delicious breasts.

  Adam felt as though he was falling from a great height.

  “Have you changed your mind, Adam?” she asked, flopping down onto her bed and folding her legs into the same cross-legged position as last night. Except last night she’d not been naked.

  Adam could not pull his eyes from the tiny bit of pink peeking from the tangle of red hair. He was rock-hard and unable to put even two sensible words together. The silence lengthened before he managed to pull his eyes away from her sex. He coughed and cleared his throat, hoping to God he didn’t squeak like a rodent when he spoke.

  “Perhaps you should put some clothing on when you call for a servant? It could have been one of the footmen who answered the bell.”

  Mia looked down, as if realizing she was naked, and then looked back at him, a slow, sensual smile spreading across her face before she laughed, the action causing her small breasts to shake enticingly.

  Adam snatched up the robe she’d worn last night. “Put this on.”

  She shrugged into it. “I am accustomed to wearing fewer clothes.”

  “Yes, well, I am very fond of seeing you without any clothing but would prefer others were not allowed the same privilege.” Like that bloody footman. A scorching wave of jealousy made one head hot with anger while the other throbbed to take her again, just to make sure she knew whom it was she belonged to.