Leopold shuddered, and his fingers left her face to cover her breast. Unfortunately, she could feel little beyond knowing he caressed her there because her corset strangled the sensations she craved most. She wanted his hands on her bare skin. She wanted his hands everywhere.
Frustrated, Mercy moved against him. She pressed up against Leopold’s body with her own, feeling the firm hard length of him against her thigh. She wanted more. She wanted him against her bare skin. Mercy loosened her grip to tug up her gown. Her skirts were trapped between them, but Leopold lifted away slightly so she could draw the long lengths up her body to expose her legs.
Leopold fumbled with his clothes, and eventually pushed his trousers down to his knees. He settled against her, the burning length of his erection hot on her skin. Eager for more, Mercy clasped his face between her hands and kissed him, using her tongue in his mouth to wrest away any lingering resistance to making love.
Mercy curled her leg up around his thigh, opening her body to accept him and flexed her hips upward to brush against his length. A low moan followed the contact and then he was there, pushing inside her, filling her up until she cried out in pleasure. But the sensations didn’t stop there. Once he joined with her, Leopold began to thrust, fast, hard and without restraint. Mercy curled both her legs high about his hips and clung to him as she was all but ravished.
She loved the way he loved her: so fierce, so complete, and so utterly devastating to her senses. Eventually, before Mercy could catch her breath, Leopold’s thrusts slowed, gentled, until he was barely moving. He was still hard within her. He hadn’t found his release yet, but he had found his control.
Mercy loosened her grip around his neck as Leopold lifted his weight from her upper body. He levered up onto his hands and his slow, deep thrusts pushed the air from her lungs. Then he stopped. His breath churned in the darkness, the heavy weight and heat of his hips pressed against her groin. But what aroused Mercy the most was that he truly saw her, and not the prim duchess he’d expected to find.
She raised one hand and laid it against his cheek. The light stubble scraped her palm as he turned to press a kiss to her skin. Mercy couldn’t help but sigh. He was a perfect lover. Exciting, demanding, and altogether too much fun to resist seducing into showing his wilder side.
Leopold’s hips flexed, driving his cock in and out of her body. Mercy smoothed his hair back with her fingers as her body began to ache where they joined. She rasped her nails against Leopold’s skull as he pushed deeper inside her. She shook as sensations rippled out from where they joined. Mercy arched her hips higher into him as her body stiffened and pulsed with a release she’d been dreaming of for years but had never attained on her own. She sobbed and pulled Leopold tightly against her, determined that he remain with her forever. But he resisted and, as her tremors subsided, he pulled from her body with a groan. Hot seed spilled over her thigh.
After a time, he pressed his head hard against her chest and then rocked it from side to side. “What have we done? Madness.”
Mercy chuckled. “We’ve done quite well, don’t you think?”
Leopold lifted off Mercy, found where she had tossed his cravat and quickly dressed himself. “This isn’t a laughing matter.” He wiped her thigh with his handkerchief until she was clean. He drew back when he’d finished and sat on the other end of the bench, as far away from her as he could get.
Mercy lay as he left her, feeling well loved, content, and wickedly smug about their tryst. No wonder Anna was always going on about taking a lover. She’d made the right choice to encourage Leopold.
When he didn’t come closer again, she sat up unaided and put herself to rights. While she was dressing, Leopold paced the small space. He didn’t seem as content as she’d expected him to be after such a wonderful interlude. Had he not enjoyed making love to her? Mercy shook her head. He had enjoyed it while it was happening. Only now was he discontent.
When he passed close by, she caught the tails of his coat and tugged hard. He staggered toward her.
“Do not make a wonderful night of pleasure into something sordid. I enjoyed every moment in your arms and hope that you did in return. Do not make me feel bad for how happy you’ve made me feel tonight. Unless, of course, you prefer a paid Indian mistress to an honest English woman.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Not bloody likely. Making love to Mercy was the nearest thing to heaven. He had almost lost himself, and his precious control, in her arms tonight. He could not forget himself and get her with child. The scandal would ruin her good reputation and he could not bear that. But he had almost failed to withdraw in time as his release had caught him by surprise. She had clutched him so tight against her that he’d had to fight his way to break free before he could spill across her skin. It had pained him, but he had done it for her sake. How could she suggest he had regrets about the rest?
A growl bubbled up inside him and he pulled Mercy up from the bench and into his arms. “Making love to you outshines the paltry pleasures any paid companion could offer. They react to ensure the man’s pleasure alone.”
“So you were pleased?”
Leopold set his mouth to Mercy’s neck and nipped lightly along her smooth skin. Her back arched, her fingers clawed at his shirtsleeves. So damn responsive. That had been the problem between them from the first night, and why he would need to leave Romsey sooner rather than later. He might never get enough of her. “I was more than pleased. Mercy, you are more woman than a man like me deserves.”
Her hands threaded into his hair, exactly the way he liked it. “Then it is a good thing I’m a charitable lady because I plan to keep you all to myself for as long as I can.”
Leopold drew back, stunned. “I cannot stay here indefinitely. I cannot keep doing this with you. There could be consequences if we are not careful.” More consequences.
He hoped he held back the anguish that flooded him. He had missed her first pregnancy because he had not known he might have been the father. But if he got her with child now, the scandal would ruin her because he would stay close enough to ensure she was well looked after. But she was a duchess. She would not give up all of this to become merely Mrs. Leopold Randall. She would never marry a man of his lower rank to avoid scandal. A child, one he was certain was of his making, would bind their lives together indefinitely. How could he stay away if he filled her belly again?
Mercy pushed him to the bench and settled over his thighs, dropped her head to his shoulder and curled her arms tightly around him. Her breath puffed against his jaw and he cuddled her closer, heart heavy because he would be denied what he’d never thought he’d have—his own family.
She sighed heavily. “A pity. You make love to me so well. I suppose I will have to be grateful for any small crumbs you share with me.”
Leopold rolled his eyes, astounded that she thought he was doing her a favor by making love to her. Any man would jump at the chance to take his place. “You must think of your reputation, and of Edwin.”
“Edwin is all I think about.” She rose from his lap suddenly and straightened her gown. “And you. I have no other life beyond these walls.”
Leopold’s heart pounded but he forced himself to remember that he had a mission to accomplish here at Romsey. Finding his siblings superseded any other desires. He forced himself to stand with his hands clasped behind his back and waited on Mercy’s next startling declaration. She was about due to make another one.
She strolled closer, eyeing his bearing with a frown. “I require an escort back to the abbey, Mr. Randall, if you please.”
Although Mercy’s lapse into formality startled him, Leopold knew his duty to obey. He held out his arm for her to take and strolled up the lawn with her to the dark abbey. At the terrace door, he locked them in. When he turned, he spotted a lone candle burning on the table, which meant that Wilcox had spied Mercy outside with him. He picked up the candle, troubled by the ill that boded. Would the servants be gossiping already?
He held out the candle to Mercy, but she shook her head and would not take it. She settled her hand to his sleeve and guided him toward the stairs. Did she intend for him to walk her all the way to her bedchamber? She couldn’t possibly suggest that.
She didn’t suggest a thing. Said not one word, but she guided him through the dark abbey leaving him in no doubt of her intention that he escort her upstairs, too. He wished he had the power to deny her. He wished one of them could do the responsible thing tonight.
When they reached the family wing, Mercy detained him at her son’s bedchamber. She inched the door open and Leopold held up the light so she might see her son clearly. Edwin slept on his side, tangled in lengths of linen. A footman dozed, propped up against the large bed. Leopold frowned, wondering why the boy needed a servant with him at night when she’d said he slept so deeply. But he was young enough to need protection, so he supposed Mercy was sweet to dote on him like this.
When Mercy turned, her face lifted to study his. The close inspection worried Leopold. Would she see the same resemblance he saw in her son? He dreaded the day she saw his guilt and guessed why. She would no longer look on him so kindly.
Her lips lifted in a soft smile and she turned away. “This way, Mr. Randall.”
He followed along blindly and when they reached a door he guessed it was her apartments. He hung back and allowed her to lead the way, but she stopped to wait for him. He closed the door quietly and studied the sitting room around him. Mess, chaos, and children’s’ toys abounded. The space reminded him of his childhood home, his siblings perched at his mother’s feet.
She hurried ahead into the next room, her figure illuminated by the firelight shining through the open doorway. Leopold gulped at the reminder of how wonderful her body was when he’d held her in his arms. He followed Mercy to her bedchamber, closing the door with a loud thump.
Illuminated by firelight, her room seemed startlingly feminine, and the familiar scent of her perfume robbed him of breath. He glanced around the chamber quickly, but saw no signs of a maid waiting to attend her.
“Put the candle down, Leopold, and blow it out. I will require your further assistance tonight.”
There it was! There was the next shocking thing to pass through those wicked lips. He should not be here, he should ring the bell for her maid and walk away. But she was so very tempting. So lovely and soft that he was helpless to deny her. He set the candle down on a nearby table and pinched the wick, leaving them with only the firelight playing over her body. She stood with her back to him, presenting the long line of buttons to him that he hadn’t spared time to unfasten in the rose arbor. Each came free easily and Mercy rushed to step out of her gown.
“My corset strings next.”
Leopold gulped, staring down the length of her back and the teasing outline of her buttocks visible through the thin chemise. The corset strings almost defeated him. He seemed all thumbs to loosen them. But perhaps he merely attempted to delay the evening further because he certainly wanted to make love to her again. How his cock had hardened again, after being so well satisfied before, escaped him. He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted Mercy. He wanted to hear her calling out her pleasure as he stroked inside her again and again.
At last he could fit his fingers beneath the loosened corset and tugged until she could step out of it. Firelight illuminated the outline of her trim figure; tiny waist, generous hips to wrap his hands about. She was the most desirable woman he had ever met and still he wanted more. Mercy stretched and swayed, rubbing her hands over her skin through the chemise. The sight stirred him beyond reason and he stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist.
Although she leaned against his chest, Mercy’s hands stilled his wandering fingers. “I thought you were done with me for the night, Leopold.”
He’d certainly tried to give her that impression, but Leopold had given up on fighting his passions the moment he’d crossed her threshold. Tomorrow, he’d try to control them better. He dropped his head and kissed her neck while he held back the words he was afraid to say. He feared he’d never be done with her. She stirred his desires too damn much for his sanity. But tonight he belonged to her. Tonight he would love her until dawn lightened the horizon.
Leopold turned her head until their eyes met. “Not yet, my duchess. Not yet.”
He kissed her and forgot all the reasons why sharing her bed again could not be in her best interests. Mercy responded with no hint of hesitation, bending her body until she touched him from breast to thigh. A frown marred her forehead before she lifted her hands to tug at his clothes. She pushed his coat from his shoulders and then went to work on his waistcoat. “I want to see you. All of you.”
The husky quality of her words washed over him like fire and he shucked the rest of his clothes as fast as he could.
Mercy’s chemise landed at his feet and he looked up.
God’s blood, she was beautiful in her nakedness, skin licked by firelight and shadow. Her breasts were full, nipples peaked with arousal, and the delicate thatch of curls between her legs made him want to fall to his knees. But before he could do more than stare, Mercy stepped forward, and stroked her fingers down his sides. His breath caught as she slowly slid her body forward to encompass him. Soft skin, heated and sweet, pressed against him as Mercy learned the planes of his chest and back. Her chin lifted, lips parted, so Leopold did what he’d wanted to since they’d first met. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed.
The cool linens curled around them, adding new sensations to their tryst. Mercy hummed to herself softly as her hands stroked his back and kneaded his skin. She rocked against him, pressing her curls to his aching length as she had before. He knew what she wanted and he would see her satisfied as never before.
Slowly, he wriggled down her body and kissed her breast. He drew the hard peak into his mouth and teased her while she moaned. He shaped her other breast with his hand. Mercy writhed and shuddered, hands clenching and unclenching on his hair as he switched from one breast to the other.
She shuddered and pressed her pelvis against his stomach. The damp heat of her shifted him lower. He might shock her out of her skin in a moment, but he would taste her tonight and bring her to completion with his mouth.
Her belly was soft and he kissed all around her navel, dipping his tongue inside and drawing wet circles on her skin. But he could smell her desire too keenly to ignore what he intended for long. He wriggled the short distance down the bed until his head rested on her thigh.
With her legs open, the firelight illuminated her folds perfectly. He stroked one finger through her curls, parting her completely to his gaze. Luscious, damp heat coated his finger as he played, listening to Mercy gasping his name as she thrashed her head from side to side.
He brought his face against her and inhaled deeply. His cock ached painfully to join with her again. But he couldn’t do that. He could not risk impregnating her, so he kissed her lower lips and kept on kissing.
Mercy bucked away from his mouth, a desperate wail echoing around the room. When she settled, he held firm to her hips and kissed her again and then licked his tongue over the place that would bring her the greatest pleasure. She bucked again, but then her legs widened and her hands curled into his hair to keep him there.
He licked her nub slowly, feeling it rise toward his tongue. He drew on the nubbin as she repeated his name. She was close to finding her release but wasn’t there yet. To make her come, he eased two fingers inside her body and twisted them.
Mercy tightened around his fingers as a desperate, feminine wail left her mouth. She called his name as she shuddered violently and rocked her hips against his face. Leopold memorized it all—taste, smell, sound— because he knew he’d never find another woman who would respond to him like this anywhere. Despite the joy of making love to her, he’d made a mess of everything. He would never marry, never find a lover who could take her place. The old duke must be happy in his corner
of hell. He’d ensured Leopold would be miserable for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The taper in Leopold’s hands flared to life, brightening the dark bedchamber around him. He stood slowly, protecting the flame so it would not go out again before he could light his candle. He was doing everything he could not to wake Mercy. It was a long time until morning and he still had to get back to his own chamber without being noticed. But most especially he did not want to wake Mercy because he simply did not know what to say. Saying thank you for making my dreams come true seemed paltry regards after such a frantic night of passion.
She had been everything he remembered and more.
He redressed quietly, but as a precaution, so he could move about the sleeping abbey undetected, he left off his boots and prowled toward the door barefoot. However, before he left her bedchamber, he took one last look at the sleeping woman; hair tossed about the pillow, a soft pale arm reaching toward the empty side of the bed. She was utterly captivating and lovely. Why had her husband allowed her to be used in the old duke’s plans all those years ago?
He shook his head and turned his back on his questions. There was no answer, of course. Not with her husband dead and the old duke long gone.
Leopold eased out into the hall. All was silent. Still. Carefully, he picked his way back to the blue suite and closed the door. He let out a heavy sigh, relieved to have returned undetected.
“Good morning, sir. May I take your boots?”
Leopold jumped out of his skin and turned around. “Damn you, Colby. What the devil are you doing here at this time of night?”
“Worrying about where you might be, sir. Wilcox said you’d been detained on an urgent matter, but wouldn’t say where or when you would be back.”
Rakes and Rogues Page 11
