The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  Perhaps he was a fool for thinking he could be different from any of her legion of clients. Perhaps this was the secret of her success as a whore? The fact that she could make you feel as if she loved you?

  He damned himself for a fool. She was a prostitute, for Heaven's sake. Anyone could plunk down his cash, and she would spread her legs for him. Even now the next man had most likely arrived. He heard the clock strike, and felt a surge of fury rise within him. His hour was over.

  "Can I stay?" he rasped. "Can I stay all night? God, I need you so. Please, let me stay."

  His agonised tone, even more than the words, quelled any protest Juliet might have made to the contrary.

  "Yes, Lawrence, you can stay with me," she agreed, wondering even as she did so how she could ever succeed in getting away with such behaviour in her brother's house.

  Yet practical be damned, she wanted him. Needed him. And he needed her. "But surely you must be tired--"

  He soothed her hair back from her face, planting feather-light kisses on her eyelids and cheeks. "I don’t want to waste a second of our magical time with anything so mundane as sleep. Not when there’s so much more to share."

  She could already feel herself soaring as he put one huge hand upon her breast to trace her nipple lightly until it peaked into his hand. "Mmm, so much more. Let me discover everything about you, please."

  His mouth met hers in a kiss which tore through her like a whirlwind. Her limbs melted, and desire pooled in the pit of her belly, white hot and scorching through her veins.

  She reached for Lawrence then, eager again for that which filled her with such delight, bold enough at last to reach out and touch him most intimately all over, just as he had fondled her.

  Their caresses mirrored each other's as they lay back upon the pillows and he kept in tandem with her hands. He stroked her inner thighs, allowing his own legs to spread so that she could stroke the tender soft flesh, a startling contrast to the huge hardness jutting into the tender curve of her hip and belly, fiercely possessive in its intent. It awed her with its power and beauty. His entire body was made for admiration and worship, she thought as she reverently touched his face, neck and chest as well.

  He lifted his lips for a brief second. "I love it when you touch me like that," he murmured as she stroked down his abdomen to his thighs.

  "I’m not hurting you?"

  "You could never hurt me, dearest Juliet. You've made me feel loved for the first time in my life. Laugh at me if you like, but it's true."

  She smiled. "I would never laugh at you. In truth, I feel the same."

  She kissed him tenderly, so movingly that it took all of his willpower not to roll her on her back and pound into her until they saw stars once more. But he held back as best he could. Prostitutes didn't often get pleasure from the act, if at all, so he was sure her sense of wonderment was due to the fact that she really was enjoying him.

  Let her fulfill her own needs, he decided. He wanted her to love him forever as the only man who could complete her. Foreign though the idea was, he wanted to share his entire life, every particle of his being, with this awe-inspiring woman.

  Matilda was a mere bagatelle. A business arrangement which his factor Nash had led him to, and which Lawrence had given into in an absurd moment of folly which he would take pains to rectify as soon as he managed to drag himself from this beauty's side.

  Of course, he could take the easy way out, just not turn up at the altar at St. Mary's in the morning.

  But no, that wouldn't be quite fair, now would it?

  On the other hand, to tear himself from Juliet's arms was a thought almost too painful to contemplate.

  She shifted in the bed, and he knew a moment’s panic. But no, she was not leaving. She lifted her mouth, but she placed her hands on his chest to steady herself, and began to explore him once more.

  She let her palms travel down his broad expanse of chest, his rippling abdomen, his lean hips, his massive thighs which proclaimed him a magnificent horseman. That thought gave way to one more daring, and she wondered….

  "Yes. Please, take me now," he whispered.

  Her eyes swivelled away from his surging loins a brief second, looking for a clue. Thus far, she had managed with no real knowledge or even rational thought, just the instinct of her body against his.

  Now she considered his pleasure as an intellectual challenge. There were an infinite number of permutations that she could see; she looked forward eagerly to learning about each. She moved onto her knees, and resting her hands upon his chest once more, swung one leg over his hips.

  His hands moved to hold her and his erection surged upwards, giving her the final piece of the puzzle. She marvelled at the soft delicacy of the tip of it, before spreading herself over him, and giving a little push. Fiery red and gold sparks crackled all around them, and Lawrence let out his breath explosively.

  "God in Heaven, Juliet!"

  She was convinced she would be split in two as she rammed her hips down, just as his powerful answering thrust bolted upwards. She would have fallen onto his chest in a faint if he had not clasped her waist in his huge hands and pushed her back, angling her body so that his shaft rubbed the most delicious spot at the top of her mound. His hands and her legs setting the rhythm, she rode him hard, his body underneath hers never still as the outpouring of his passion went on and on.

  She could hear her own impassioned cries, the blood throbbing in her ears, her shouting his name. Just when she thought it was all over, he moved one hand down to caress the tiny sweet bud at the top of her thighs, and she began all over again.

  "No, Lawrence, we can’t!" she said in a panic, her eyes flying open as her passion ran away with her.

  "Take what you need, Juliet. I’m all yours. Anything you want you have only to ask and I shall gift it to you. Money, jewels, gowns, anything you like, if only it will make you happy."

  She shook her head. "What more could I possibly want than this bliss to share with you?"

  She clutched him fiercely, leveraging herself up and down with her hands, setting a breakneck pace he did not even try to check.

  He watched in fascinated awe as the blush of love which had flooded her body now grew deeper. The sheen of perspiration which dewed her skin made her glow like a glorious goddess. Her internal shudderings grew more and more savage. He could feel his own climax only a second away.

  He watched her struggle to let herself go, to surrender utterly to the madness inside. He held on desperately to his last shred of coherence. Her body was begging for release, vibrating from head to toe, squeezing him unmercifully with powerful inner muscles in her already incredible tightness.

  Still his delight roared through him, and still she propelled them both onwards. He wondered at her ability to hold back from the ultimate bliss, for her entire body was rippling under his hands, her nipples and delicate peak so engorged that one brush of them was enough to arch her back almost painfully against his now bent thighs. He had heard women often faked their delight, but there was no possible way to counterfeit this unbridled response.

  He watched her in awed fascination until he was sure she would strain all of her abdominal muscles if she kept contracting like that for much longer. He rolled with her to the edge of the bed until only her hips and legs were under him. With the back of her head resting on the carpet and one hand on her waist, he drove into her, massaging her breast until the ripples deep within her convulsed relentlessly in an endless roll like the surging sea.

  Juliet clung to him tautly, her whole body opening to him as his hand upon her bottom pressed her up into his own huge frame, the better to receive his driving need. All the other climaxes they had experienced together were as nothing in the face of this onslaught of desire. They exploded as one, the orgasm rushing through them both until they could scarcely breathe.

  At last they both quietened, and Lawrence pulled her up into the bed once more and put his arms around her tightly. He drew the covers up o
ver her and smoothed her hair back from her flushed face. "Sleep now, love. I'll see you later."

  Juliet did the only thing she longed to. She gave him a tender kiss, and fell into a dreamless slumber.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Awakening some hours later, Lawrence could not remember the last time he felt so happy, so at peace, or so certain about anything in his life. The raven black hair tumbled all over his torso told him where he was in an instant. He felt a momentary jolt as he recalled the blond beauty eagerly anticipating their nuptials this morning.

  But he had been having second and even third thoughts about Matilda for a long time now. Well, ever since they had got engaged six weeks ago, if he were being completely honest.

  He would probably not have even gone that far had not his loyal assistant Nash spelled out for him all the advantages of the match with the same precision as he presented his balance sheet at the end of each month.

  Lawrence had never thought to feel anything even remotely resembling love; he had not even been sure it existed. Had thought men who succumbed to it deluded fools.

  Well, that was not strictly true. He had thought he loved his childhood sweetheart. But when she had rejected him when he had lost his money, and promptly married his elder brother, he had felt kicked and betrayed, but not heartbroken.

  Of course, the heart coped with its wounds in different ways. Even he had to admit to himself now with the benefit of hindsight that he had quashed his anger and despair with months of hard work and study. Not to mention mortification of the flesh on board the ship taking him to the Far East to join his uncle, who had told him he was willing to adopt him as his heir after his own two sons had been killed in the overseas service.

  He had found plenty of willing and talented whores when he had first arrived in Calcutta, and had told himself he had made a lucky escape from matrimony.

  Now with this delicate young blossom nestled so tightly against him, he wondered how he could have ever found satisfying the quick fumblings and explosive climaxes over in seconds.

  The sun streamed in, and he stroked her riotous ebony waves, tickling her cheek as he kissed her. The morning was said to be a marvelous time for making love. His manhood tenting the sheet was more than eager to find out for itself.

  He drew the sheet and coverlet up over his shoulders, blocking out the sunlight, and moved between her thighs in the most alluring manner.

  Juliet came slowly awake, her lips parting in a sigh of pure joy as Lawrence teased them open. Surely this had to be a dream.... But no, he was real, solid, and buried deeply within her most secret core.

  "Good morning, my sweet. I was hoping you'd wake."

  "Lawrence, what are you--"

  "I can't resist a repeat of last night. You're so magnificent, I can't help it. I want all of you so much. I want to stay here forever and never let you go. But go I must."

  She nearly wept with frustration and opened her mouth to plead with him to stay. He pulled out of her pulsating softness, but he apologised tenderly.

  "I'll be back with you in a moment, I promise, love. I need to taste you everywhere."

  His mouth glided over her breasts so delightfully that by the time he had kissed his way down to her thighs she felt as if it were the most normal thing in the world to share with her beloved.

  She was still so delicious, honey sweet with a new slight metallic taste he wondered at for a moment. He inserted one finger inside her incredible tightness and curled it upwards, until she was shuddering against him once more.

  "Too much?" he laughed.

  "Oh yes, or not enough. Please, I want all of you."

  "What, tongue and fingers aren't enough? You lusty little lady. I ought to punish you for that."

  "Oh, please, it's too good," she panted as his fingers and tongue continued to move slowly and rhythmically.

  "But you asked for more. So have more." He gently opened her further and inserted a second large finger, causing her hips to buck upwards desperately. He held her still with one hand on her breast, and she rode the wave of passion and began to float down.

  Or would have if he had not begun to stroke her even more intently, now nibbling the roseate whirl with his teeth.

  "More, love?"

  "Oh, yes, please, all of you. Oh, I'm on fire."

  She flipped the covers off her face. As he glided up her body, his fingers and now thumb delighting her core and mound, he could see she was not exaggerating. Her elegant cheekbones and lush lips were flooded with colour. He kissed her blisteringly and pressed into the luxurious cradle of her body once more.

  She climaxed in an instant, taking him with her before he even had a chance to glide all the way in. The powerful ring of muscles just inside her entrance to paradise clamped down on his pulsing head, wringing his pleasure from him in great shuddering bursts.

  He had heard women in the Far East could do this, but he had never met one. But then, he had travelled the world over and never met any woman as exciting or voluptuous as Juliet.

  "Beautiful. Just beautiful. Your breasts. Manna from the gods." He leaned forward to lave each nipple, nibbling and suckling her tenderly until the throb in her womb grew too great to be ignored. "Your sweet moisture, like nectar. Your skin, sheer ambrosia."

  Juliet gasped and called out his name, and he chuckled against her breast as she clutched his soft hair and climaxed.

  He gave her a smile of triumph. "Remarkable. No one has ever responded to me like that before. Let's see what else I can do to you to make you zenith."

  "All you have to do is look at me," she admitted, panting.

  "Hmm, now that I would like to see. But touching you is so thrilling, I just can't seem to stop. Oh my, what are you doing to me?"

  "The same as you're doing to me?" she gasped as his huge length began to fill her once more.

  "Listen, Juliet," he said, kissing her tenderly on the cheek and lips. "I really want to stay with you all morning, every morning, but I need to leave for a couple of hours to take care of some unpleasant duties. Then I promise you I'll come back and we'll talk."

  "Talk?" she said, her eyes already glazing over again with desire.

  "Aye, talk. And any other kind of intercourse you'd like. I need to know where I stand with you. We need to discuss our future. I can't just leave this at one night."

  "Future?" she echoed. "What kind of future?"

  He blushed like a schoolboy. "I don't know. I mean, I've been engaged twice in my life, but it was never, well, it was never romantic. This time I want to do it right."

  "This time? You mean me?" she gasped.

  "Yes, yes, I think I do," he admitted, dreading her laughter.

  Instead her eyes filled with tears. "Engaged?"

  He nodded. "Yes, and married too, if you'll have me. If you can see your way clear to turning your whole life upside down for a man like me. I'm not very good with women--"

  She laughed then, and he stiffened for a moment.

  "I think you underestimate your remarkable talents quite considerably, Lawrence, my dear. Very good doesn't even come close."

  Her words made his surge so powerfully he was sure he would swoon. "Speaking of coming close--"

  They revelled in their banquet of sensual delicacies, driving each other ever onward. As soon as one would quieten, the other would soar, until soon, their desires meshed and they peaked together so long and hard he was sure his heart had stopped.

  He devoured her with kisses, trying to draw her right into him, just as she did with his body in the incredibly tender embrace they alone could share.

  Lawrence was so absorbed in making love to the wonderful woman he had been sent to meet that he had scarcely a shred of sanity left when the door swung open, and gruff tones of masculine outrage assaulted his ears.

  "Juliet! My God! Juliet! What on earth?"

  Lawrence rose on one elbow and twisted to face the intruder. He blinked at the man in the bright sunshine, which seemed to glow like a spotlight
on his dramatic entrance.

  All the joy of a moment before slipped away, leaving only the hard, brutal, nasty past ten years of his life.

  He stared, and stared.

  For there, gaping at him, his face as black as a thundercloud, was his old enemy Matthew Dane.

  "Lawrence Howard. You bastard! What the hell do you think you're doing to my sister!"