Captain and Countess

by Alice Gaines

  “One great exposed nerve, our captain,” Peter said.

  “I tell you what, Vajra,” Jason said. “Lady Rushford has a comely friend with an active imagination. Miss Pembroke. Have Peter introduce you.”

  “Now see here—” Peter stuttered.

  “She has a mind of her own, which Peter so far has failed to conquer,” Jason said. “You might fare better.”

  “You two play your own games with each other,” Vajra declared. “I’m glad to see nothing’s changed.”

  “Just get along, both of you,” Jason said. “I have to find my fiancée.”

  They did finally move off, but Jason didn’t go off in search of Miss Swan. He needed to regain his calm demeanor before facing any kind of social chitchat.

  What poetic justice. The night he’d had to break off any chance of happiness with Bess, she’d turned around and compounded the end to their affair or dalliance or whatever it was by declaring that she’d take a husband, too. Part of him insisted that he only objected because of her choice of a husband. Another part knew damned well the mere thought of another man touching her, no matter who, would drive him to . . . well . . . drink.

  He put the glass down again. What a selfish bastard he was. He’d felt perfectly comfortable announcing he would wed another. That was only to be expected, after all, and Bess would understand. He’d never considered what it might feel like to watch her go through with a sham marriage.

  She didn’t want to marry that bastard. She couldn’t. She’d loathed the man’s very presence, and for good reason. He’d imposed himself on her person from the first. He’d left her to fend for herself in a storm. What could she be thinking?

  If he’d had more time with her in the garden just now, he’d have demanded an answer. He’d have shaken it out of her. He’d have . . . oh, bloody hell, he would have disgraced himself and her if he’d stayed another minute.

  His brother admired her. His sister adored her. He loved her. And he was about to marry another woman.

  His only chance to avoid catastrophe lay in staying away from Lady Rushford. He’d vowed to do it before but had always grown weak and relented. This time, he’d use his military discipline. Problem solved. Danger averted. To steel his resolve, he picked up the glass again and drained it of the last drops.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sound came so softly it wouldn’t have awakened Bess from even a light sleep. Because she hadn’t drifted off yet, even after such a long and eventful evening, she caught it very clearly. Her door opened and closed on silent hinges, and someone moved in her bedroom. Someone large and male and giving off the scent of spirits.

  She lay very quietly, keeping her breathing even, and watched from under lowered lashes as he approached the bed. She ought to scream and bring all the male servants, but then, the half-moon outside gave her enough light to make out what he wore. A military uniform.

  Before she could move or speak, his hand came down over her mouth.

  “Bess,” Jason Northcross whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

  She pushed his hand aside. “I know that, you bloody great fool. What are you doing here?”

  He sat on the bed, his bulk making the mattress sag so that she almost rolled into him. “There’s a rose arbor near the window at the end of the hallway. Not safe. Someone could get in.”

  “You’ve been drinking.”

  “Alas, I have,” he said. “But not enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “They say too much whiskey renders a man unable to perform. I’m either immune, or I haven’t had enough.”

  She could pretend ignorance of his meaning, but they both understood what he was talking about—the sort of performance that had curled her toes in the cottage during the storm and again the next morning. The sort that had hurled her off the cliff. He’d come to do it again. Would she find the will to resist?

  “If anything, the drink seems to have increased my appetite,” he went on. “And loosened my tongue.”

  “You have a fiancée now,” she said. “You should keep yourself to her.”

  “Can’t. She’s a virgin.” He stretched out next to her, his handsome face only inches from hers. The light of desire shone in his green eyes, not the haze of drunkenness. In fact, he appeared in complete control of his faculties, the whiskey only serving to strip him of his inhibitions.

  “You can’t marry him, Bess,” he said. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “I might say the same of you and Miss Swan,” she said. “She’s a lovely girl, but she’s—”

  “I know, a fluff-head.” He stroked the side of her face, pushing back a few strands of her hair. “I have to marry her to get Lily a good husband.”

  “I have to marry Montgomery for the same reason.”

  He pulled his head back a bit and studied her, his brow furrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m not going to explain.” She’d already said too much on the subject. She’d take the secret to her grave to ensure her two friends and Lily were respectably and happily married.

  He sighed. “That’s the way the world is, I suppose.”

  “It certainly is.”

  “But we don’t have to like it, do we?”

  “Captain—”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Jason. You don’t call the man who’s going to make love with you Captain.”

  “But you can’t.” The words came out sounding uncertain, curse the trembling in her voice.

  “But I have to. I love you, Bess.”

  He might have slapped her, the idiotic man. It was one thing for her to entertain girlish fantasies about him, but quite another for him to return them. He was young and handsome and tall. Especially tall. He couldn’t be offering her his heart when nothing could come of it. He’d make her want him, when she couldn’t have him. Not in this world or the next or the next.

  “Shhh. Don’t cry,” he murmured. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I never cry, you dolt.” She was crying, though. Silently, as hot tears slid down her cheeks. Then he was kissing them—each one as it appeared. Then her eyelids and the tip of her nose. And then her mouth.

  Oh yes. She kissed him back. Fitting her lips to his, she took the sweetness he offered and gave it back to him. His body moved over hers, the hardness of his chest crushing her breasts with the right pressure to make the nipples stiffen and ache. He was so blessed big and male, making her seem delicate and feminine. Surely, he’d awakened female instincts she hadn’t imagined she possessed—one sensation stronger than the others. Her most private flesh craved him. It had its own memory of the magic he’d worked with his hands and member before. She’d have him again, and she’d respond even more eagerly than she had then.

  “Too many clothes,” he grumbled as he unbuttoned the jacket of his uniform.

  They both worked to free him of all the trappings of civilization. He’d had the presence of mind to rid himself of his boots before creeping around her house in the dark. But there were so many other layers, some of them heavy as they hit the floor. They should have gone more slowly, careful to avoid making noise that might get them discovered. But she couldn’t still her hands, and they exposed more and more of him for sight and touch and even taste, as she dragged her tongue against whatever skin came within reach.

  Finally, he was naked to the waist, and she reached to the fastening of his breeches. Just beneath the fabric, the male part of him stood erect. Thick and long. She pressed her hand against it, measuring it with her fingers. Memorizing his masculine beauty.

  He sucked in a breath on a hiss. “I told you the drink did nothing to diminish my need for you.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Free me. Please.”

  When she unfastened the buttons, his member fell into her hands. The skin was heated velvet against her fingers, the shaft stiff and tipped by a swollen head. When she squeezed it gently, he moaned in approval. She knew the language of his body now an
d could use it for his pleasure. The most feared creature on earth—the human male—and she could command him with her touch.

  “Enough of that for now, or you’ll push me to the finish.” He stood long enough to remove the breeches and then joined her, slipping beneath the covers. “I have plans for you.”

  He helped her out of her night rail until they lay skin-to-skin. This time when he moved over her, no barrier came between them. Their bodies seemed to sigh as they rubbed together—his chest against her breasts and his member pressing into her hip. When he kissed her, she wrapped herself around him, holding him as close as she could and seeking even more friction. Their mouths met in a frantic battle for who could take the most. They both won as they used lips and tongues and even gentle nips of their teeth. He held her face in his hands to angle it beneath his own as she ran her palms over him to touch every inch she could reach.

  In one tiny corner of her mind, her conscience whispered that this was wrong. They belonged to others. Someday not far off, he’d take his wife to his bed and treat her to the joys of his body. It wouldn’t be the same for him, and the other woman would have no way of knowing what she’d missed. He loved Bess. He put all that love into this perfect expression of passion. She wouldn’t share this with her husband, either, when she submitted to him, and he’d never realize her true carnal nature. Only she and Jason would truly make love. She’d have this night for the rest of her life.

  When he moved to her breasts, he gave them all the attention he’d given before. Her body responded by dampening the space between her thighs. Readying her for his beloved invasion. She lay with her eyes closed to absorb it all, and dug her fingers into his hair. He continued sucking on one nipple while rolling the other into a furious hardness. Such a masterful touch. It sent her into another world where nothing existed outside the boundaries of her bed.

  He didn’t stop there, though, as he had the other night. He didn’t pull himself up beside her. Instead, he continued lower, his body easing itself between her legs to spread them. Lower and lower he went, trailing kisses over her ribs and to her belly. Even that wasn’t his eventual goal, because he continued until his face hovered over her mound.

  “Jason?” she whispered.

  “Shhh.” His mouth closed over her sex, his tongue parting the petals.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped. “You can’t. Not there.”

  In answer, he ran his hands under her thighs and up to her hips to hold her still, and kissed her again. This time, his tongue found the entrance to her chamber and probed.

  Dear God, what a feeling. She ought to stop him. This had to be sin. And yet, it was the most wonderful thing he’d done. He continued lapping at her as if he couldn’t get enough. In the end, she let him do it, weak creature that she was. Nothing in all the world could possibly feel this good, but it did.

  After a moment, he found her pearl and stroked it with his tongue. She let out a cry, and her hips moved of their own volition, pressing her upward against his face. What he’d done before with his fingers, he repeated with his mouth. Only this was so much more intense. All thought fled, leaving nothing but the rasp of his tongue over her most sensitive flesh.

  Only that and the fact that he meant to make her spend this way. He wouldn’t stop until she’d shattered. It wouldn’t take long. No one could withstand such an assault without snapping like a reed. She couldn’t last . . . couldn’t last . . . oh, Lord . . . oh, yes . . . now!

  The climax burst over her, squeezing her in its grip until she couldn’t breathe. Then, it set her loose to soar as her body convulsed. He kept up the pressure, urging more and more from her, while the tremors continued. Blazing light washed over her, fire licking at her skin.

  Eventually it ended, of course, but not before he’d shown her a new world of passion. In a heartbeat, he’d slid up next to her again and taken her into his arms. She burrowed into him, pressing her face under his chin. Speechless. What words could one use after an experience like that?

  He stroked her back, demanding nothing despite the evidence of his need that now lay snuggled into her belly. Such a considerate lover, devoted to her needs at the expense of his own. She’d only ever had one other man, but a small voice inside her insisted that this encounter—no, all encounters with this man—lay outside normal human experience. He loved her, and he’d shown his love in his touch and his kiss. Especially his kiss.

  “Jason?” she whispered.

  “Hm?”

  “You’ve done that for other women, haven’t you?”

  He sighed. “I’ve never wanted to do it so much.”

  “May I do the same thing for you?”

  He took a shuddering breath. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Tell me how.”

  “Honestly, anything you do would give me great pleasure,” he said. “Just stop when I tell you to.”

  She reached between them and curled her fingers around his rod. Until that moment, she’d never considered putting her mouth on a man’s member. Sex was something men controlled. Women acquiesced, perhaps enjoyed it, but they didn’t take the initiative. She would with Jason if she could have him for herself. She’d sneak up behind him in the garden and whisper such forbidden desires that she’d inflame him even in the middle of the day. She’d count the minutes when visiting someone until she could take him home and share his body again.

  She’d have to put all that desire for him into the next few minutes and make him as happy as he’d made her. Pressing her hand on his shoulder, she urged him onto his back. Then she turned, lying beside him with her face next to his pelvis.

  Now she could study his erection from only inches away. So stiff and proud and, yes, beautiful. She licked along the underside, letting her tongue linger at the tip. Her reward came in his groan of pleasure. If he was as sensitive here as she was on her pearl, she’d soon drive him wild. She smiled inwardly at the thought.

  Now she slid her lips over the head and down his shaft as far as she could manage. As she sucked, she pumped the rest of him with her fist. His breathing became harsh, filling the room with the sounds of his excitement. He’d surrendered to his lust the same way she had a few moments ago. Her heart warmed at the knowledge that she could do this for him, and she redoubled her efforts, taking more of him as she bobbed her head up and down.

  “God, Bess,” he crooned. “Lord help me.”

  She stopped sucking for a moment, but kept up the pressure of her fingers. “I’m doing it right?”

  “Unbelievable.”

  Indeed, it was. She resumed her work, sucking him deeply and savoring every sound he made. His hips moved as hers had. Pushing him upward. She had to hold him to keep him from pushing too deeply. He was so blessed big. Soon, she’d found a rhythm, bobbing her head in time with his thrusts.

  “Stop,” he cried. “Stop now.”

  She released him immediately, as he’d ordered. In a heartbeat, he’d curled over her, arranging himself between her legs. In one thrust, he entered her. So forcefully, he nearly pushed their heads off the foot of the bed. He kept moving. Wildly out of control and magnificent in his passion. He kept himself propped up on his arms as his member plundered her chamber. If he hadn’t prepared her, she might have had trouble taking all of him. But she was still damp from having spent so forcefully a few minutes before. Her body had been designed for this coupling, and he executed it so perfectly that soon, she became fully aroused all over again.

  Wrapping her legs around him, she anchored herself to receive him. On and on and on as her gasps came in time with his movements. Above her, his eyes glowed with hunger so primitive it might have frightened her if she didn’t share the feelings. She’d spend again. They’d spend together. They’d enter that heaven that only he could create for her. Joined together in a union more perfect than anything human society could create.

  “Love me,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she said. “I do, Jason.”

  “I can’t
last.”

  “I’m with you.” At that, she lost all powers of speech and could only talk with her body. She managed a cry that would tell him that the moment had come before the storm swept her up again. When her sex tensed, it clutched his driving hardness. When it exploded in orgasm, the shocks traveled along his length. They shouted in unison as he went rigid in her arms and poured his essence into her. Jason, Jason. My love.

  When it had finally finished, he bent his head down to hers and kissed her lips, the line of her jaw, and the spot beneath. His arms trembled with the effort to hold his weight off her, so she pulled him down and let him sag against her body. Yes, he was heavy, but every ounce of him was precious. As long as she could, she’d keep him right here, nestled against her breast.

  He settled there with a groan and a sigh. After a moment, the sound of his even breathing told her he’d fallen asleep.

  *

  When Jason finally roused from a sex-blessed, deep sleep, he found himself in Bess’s bed. Somehow, he’d gotten himself between the sheets, his head on her pillow. It smelled of the floral scent that surrounded her everywhere. So specific to her. So intoxicating.

  Beside him, the bed was empty. She’d gotten up, and he needed to find her so that they could share the last hours before he’d have to leave so no one at Hollyfield would miss him. Especially his father-in-law-to-be. He shouldn’t have come here, but now that he had, he’d take full advantage of every second.

  Rolling over, he prepared to rise, only to discover he had no need. She stood by the window, wearing not a stitch on her body. Ye gods, he’d never actually seen her naked before. Every time he’d undressed her, he’d immediately gone to work to make love to her. Now, he could study her at leisure, and what a vision she made.

  She stood in profile, so that he had a view of soft, ample curves everywhere. Her breasts stood firm and round, like ripe fruit, the nipples puckered. His mouth actually watered as he remembered kissing them and sucking at the tips. Rounded hips led to her arse, and what a glorious piece of God’s creation it was. So round and plush, its sweetness emphasized by her narrow waist. The perfect valentine. He could use it as a pillow for the rest of his life and die a happy man.