by Jenn LeBlanc
“Watch,” he said again. He spread her knees further apart so she could easily see his intimate stroke, the caress of his cadence.
She was mesmerized, overtaken by the sight of him entering and retreating, the sound of their heavy mingling breaths, the feel of his strength so close to her, surrounding her, penetrating her, carrying her, pushing her, pulling her, drawing her toward a second higher peak. Her lids fell again.
“Watch!” he commanded. His jaw clenched, and she saw the fear and the pain flash across his face and it drove her to the edge, forced her over. She collapsed and he caught her, their eyes holding as her pulsing sheath drew him along.
The second his release came she saw his face change; his jaw released and his eyes drifted closed, his hands clenched and lifted from the bed, taking her with him, pulling her onto him and fusing them together, the sway of the train lulling their passion.
A loud knock sounded at the door, and Perry swept the blankets over Lilly as he sat up in the bed. “Come.”
“Milord, the tray you requested,” the porter said as he entered. Perry waved him toward the table and he moved quickly, bowing before he left. Perry pulled his drawers on, then walked over to fill a plate with fruits, cheeses, and crusty breads. He brought it back to the bed, pulling the blankets down to find Lilly wide-eyed but still in her little cocoon. He smiled.
“Lilly, my sweet, you should eat. We will be reaching Manchester soon, where we will be allowed a short foray into town.” She shifted, wiggling her way up to sit. She rested against the pillows and looked at him patiently. “How are you?”
She smiled serenely, and he noted it wasn’t quite the smile he was familiar with seeing on a partner after a full day of such passion. She still appeared wary and overwrought, not quite as sated as he was known to leave women. It brought him a sense of incompletion, almost incompetence, which unseated the masculine feeling of victory that traditionally elated his mood after a tryst.
He lifted a strawberry to her mouth and watched as her lips parted. When she took it in, his stomach tensed. In the entirety of his life he’d never felt so affected by a woman. He now realized the piece that had always been missing from his liaisons was the need to protect. Never had he wanted to protect a woman, to safeguard not only her body, but her mind.
He followed the strawberry with a scone and some clotted cream. She followed that with moans and sighs.
An hour later they were dressed and descending to the platform, Lilly clutching his greatcoat as she had when they’d first arrived at that inn. He decided what she really needed was a good dose of confidence, though retaining a healthy bit of that wariness would go far for her self-preservation. Somewhere between caution and self-assurance was the precarious position that would keep her from again being targeted as someone’s victim.
He unlatched her from the folds of his greatcoat and pulled her to his side, placing her hand on his arm and drawing her spine straight and tall next to him. She tensed, and he moved his other hand to cover hers, willing the security he provided to pacify her nerves. He saw her features relax incrementally, and as they walked through the station, she glanced around with a quick grin.
“What do you intend to do in London?” he asked as their next train lurched forward. They had yet another private car, and Perry was looking forward to the afternoon ride.
“Whatever you wish, milord,” she replied quietly from the seat across from him.
“I realize that you feel you have no choice but to do as I wish, but I would hope you understand that our relationship has much changed since I informed you of your status in my household as a servant.”
“Yes, milord, but there’s no chance of anythin’ between us, even were I to wish it. I would never find comfort in your world. ‘Tis not possible.”
“I’m well aware of our current dilemma and the need for privacy. What I want to know is what need you have of me at this point. I don’t want to make it seem as though I have ulterior motives in this, and I believe the best way to go about our relationship is to be perfectly honest with one another. As I’ve said, and will remind you again, you are charged with our present, and our future. I will do nothing you are not comfortable with, I will do nothing you do not want. For however long you wish to be obliged.”
She blushed at his speech and attempted to dodge his gaze, but he wouldn’t allow her to look away. “Milord, I— I’d appreciate a position within your household. So that I may, uh—” She closed her eyes, then looked into his directly. “So that we may continue. I believe I’ve much to learn, and I believe, if you’re willing, you’ve much to teach me.” She took a deep breath. “I know at some point we must part, and keeping that in mind, being truly careful, you can still help me. I understand your life, and I won’t keep you from it. You are a rake. It is your nature, as I understand it, to not settle.”
He watched as her hands trembled, twisting in her skirts. “Lilly, for as long as we are together, there will be none other. I would not do that to anyone, not even to you. I will of course make the rounds, present myself to the ton as is expected of me, but I will not extend any private invitations for as long as you have need of me.”
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped into an O. Then she looked away, flustered. “I would not ask that of you. I don’t want for you to change. There is no need,” she whispered.
He reached across to her and stroked her hand, then lifted it and placed a kiss in her palm. She watched his movements carefully as her skin prickled with the awareness of his proximity. She hoped she would be able to remain in his household without the entire staff being made aware of her position. Positions, she thought, and pressed a fist to her forehead.
She stood and leaned toward the window, letting the chill of the night sink into her hands through her gloves. She heard him rise, felt him move to her, then closed her eyes on the anticipation of what he intended. His hands came to the window just outside of her own. She felt his tongue rise from the edge of her blouse to the nape of her neck, and she shivered at the long stroke.
His hands left the window and went to her gloves, slowly pulling them off. Tendrils of excitement spread through her fingers as they were swept away. She shook her head and felt him step back, then lost the warmth of her cape when he took it from her shoulders. She was not long bereft, for his warm hands sank through the fabric covering her shoulders, then lower, unbuttoning her blouse and loosening the simple corset.
He pushed her forward, her breasts meeting the glass of the window. She gasped from the chill as he raised her skirts.
“You want the rake?”
“I do not know what I want.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want. How can I know what I want?”
“Perhaps some variety will narrow down the choices.”
He pulled her back against him. She realized he had released his manhood and now pressed it against her backside.
“Milord.”
“I warned you not to call me that.”
“Don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
She hadn’t exactly planned for this. She thought she would be sad, letting him touch her, letting him teach her, and then walking away. But she’d measured the options. It had all happened so fast the night before that there was no real consideration. They drove each other easily to the act, pushing one another as the other pulled back, until ultimately there was no room for retreat.
This morning, as the sun broke and she watched his face come back to a wakeful state, she became aware of her peril. He was devastatingly handsome. She knew she’d thought so before, but the realization hit her like waves upon the beach. It would drift away, then come crashing down on her suddenly, without warning, stealing her very breath.
Even if she were to fall in love with this man, even if she were to lose herself in those eyes, she knew beyond doubt that being with him was impossible. She promised herself she would be happy to learn from him. To let him
teach her what she wanted to know; to help her overcome the fears that plagued her, to feel anything again without pain, to not be afraid. She promised this, but feared that it was merely a delay of the inevitable.
Perry breezed into his town house on Grosvenor early that evening, throwing his hat and gloves to Harper who held the door wide for his arrival.
“I’ve added to the staff,” Perry said as he glanced around. “Uh, I thought she would have been behind me, but—” He walked back toward the door and looked out, then up and down the street. “Kerrigan,” he called back to his man, who was halfway upstairs with a trunk.
“Yes, milord?”
“Where’s Miss Lilly?”
“Not sure I know, milord. I thought as she was behind us.”
Perry ran down the front steps, looking for the small figure he had become so well accustomed to having around. He stuck his head inside the landau and found her, still quietly sitting in the corner. “Lilly! You had me worried. What are you still doing here?” He reached across the carriage for her hand.
“Not sure as I know, milord, I was just waiting. I— I do not know how to do this. I simply do not.” She shook her head.
“Sweet Lilly, I would like for you to be a guest for a few days, until you get your bearings. If this is difficult or too awkward after that, I will escort you to His Grace’s town house to join his staff.”
She took his hand and allowed him to lower her to the ground, placing her hand on his sleeve.
The look he received from Harper was enough to shake his composure. “Harper, a change of plans. This is Miss Lilly. She will be a guest here for a few days. After that we will determine where she belongs, be that here or at His Grace’s.”
Harper sized up the girl, and Perry.
“A guest, Harper,” Perry said sardonically.
“Pardon, milord,” he said with a lift of his brow. “Miss Lilly,” he said, bowing before her. He looked back to Perry. “The blue room, milord?”
Perry cleared his throat. He knew he wasn’t to be held accountable by his servants, but he felt guilty nonetheless. Everything about this girl had him off-kilter. “Yes, Harper the blue room, thank you. I will…see her up. Perhaps you could have Cook prepare a tray?”
Harper nodded and turned for the kitchens.
“Lilly,” Perry said as he opened the receiving door at her suite, “you are welcome to stay here for as long as necessary.” He stepped through the small entry and opened the second door. “There are a few things you should be aware of. First, you may have use of a maid if you would like, or not. Either way, if you have need of anything here you are to use the pull. Please do not try to accomplish everything on your own, as much as you would like to. Second,” he said as he strode past the large four poster bed toward the far wall, motioning for her to follow him, “the bathing room is just here, behind this door.” He waited until she reached the door, then continued. “The door at the other end of the bathroom reaches my bedchamber—directly.”
Her jaw fell open. Deafening silence ensued.
“Sweet, if you would prefer—” She shook her head, cutting him off. He cleared his throat. “Is there—is there something else?”
“No, milord, just, I…well. This room you’ve seen to give me, ‘tis for your wife,” she whispered reverently.
“Yes, sweet, but as I have no wife, currently the room is for whomever I choose. As well, if you were to be in a guest chamber, I would not hear should you have any night terrors.”
“Your household?”
“My household is quite familiar with my odd choices in manner. My household will think and do as I ask of them.”
She felt a shiver traverse her shoulders as he approached her slowly.
“Have no fear, my sweet. Whatever happens here remains between us. Even as it pertains to my staff.” He reached out and held her elbow, gently stroking her arm with his thumb.
Her breath caught and she looked up at him. He felt her muscles tense. This was different, though. This wasn’t her usual reaction to being touched. This was not a knee-jerk reaction, but something else. She blinked, then returned to her steady regard of his face.
He saw the astonishment cross her features, then realized where it came from. He had touched her, and she hadn’t jumped away, pulled back, flinched, or injured him. Not even a little, not in the least.
A bright smile broke her expression and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers.
His eyes flew wide but he acquiesced quickly, drawing her up to him, lifting her feet from the floor as he straightened.
Lips locked in shared smiles, her hands tangled in his hair while his fingers spread at her back, holding her close. Their kiss broke, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “I would venture to say that was a step in the right direction.”
She nodded against his forehead, her eyes sparkling. Then she looked down at her feet, suspended above the ground. He laughed and lowered her slowly, then released her completely when they heard the knock at her door. He followed her back into the bedchamber and motioned Harper toward the table before the fire. She removed her cape, carrying it to the wardrobe.
“Milord, will there be anything else this evening?” Harper asked.
“Has Louisa seen to the bath?” he asked.
“Yes my lord.”
“Then nothing further, Harper. The household is free to retire.”
Harper bowed and closed the door behind him as he backed out.
Perry took her hand and pulled her over to the dinner tray. “Sit, eat, please. I need to go blow the dust off from the journey.” He turned back when he heard water rushing to the tub in the bathing room. “I will take my bath while you have your fill, then you can do the same.”
She smiled up at him and he placed a kiss in her palm, then left her to her supper.
Perry sank into the water, allowing the heat to soothe his muscles and his will. He leaned his head back and let it seep slowly to his bones. “Lilly,” he whispered as he closed his eyes. He breathed slowly, the scent of the herbs in the water pacifying him. Louisa always prepared the most comforting and soothing of baths. He drifted off for a while, only awakening when his senses picked up a sweeter note in the air. His lids lifted and he found Lilly crouching next to the tub, her gaze moving across his form appreciatively. His heartbeat picked up and he shifted, causing a ripple to collide with the side of the tub.
She wasn’t sure exactly when he awakened, but she was sure when he became aware of her presence. That particular part of him that announced his masculinity pulsed, straightened, shifted, and grew before her eyes.
His hand grasped her wrist and pulled her across him, obliging her to lift from the floor and lean far over the maw of the heavy clawfoot tub.
Her eyes widened with the force of his intent as his other hand wrapped around her hip, pressing her until she slipped into the water.
Her arms landed on his shoulders as she held her face out of the splashing water. It launched over the rim, flooding the room.
His hands searched through her sodden clothes, finding the roundness of her buttocks then kneading through the layers of fabric.
She looked down upon his face as his eyes lifted to hers. She watched, mesmerized, as his tongue swept his lower lip, then the upper. Her skin tingled as his gaze roved across her, her nipples tightening. She felt a shiver grow from her belly and spread in a circular pattern, her breath increasing exponentially. She was lightheaded, dizzy.
His smile became territorial in nature and he lifted up, capturing her mouth in a possessive kiss. Her hands slipped across his chest, sinking into the water around him, their bodies compressed. Her legs straddled his flanks and she held fast to his shoulders. With his hands on the sides of the tub, he pushed up with her wrapped tightly around his torso. Then his hands grasped her buttocks, shifting her weight on his frame as he bruised her mouth with his heavy kisses. She held tighter. Water poured from their joined figures, refilling the tub
and spilling over to the floor.
He swept his hands down her thighs, urging her to stand before him. Without breaking their kiss, he worked his fingers on her ties, ribbons, buttons, and sashes until her saturated clothing fell away with a heavy slap on the side of the tub. His hands moved back to her hips, pulling her body tight against his.
She cried out and her hands fisted in his hair, pulling and holding him to her.
They shared breath, they shared cries, and they shared words within their joined lips.
Once again he lifted her to him, wrapping her legs around his long thighs as he stepped carefully from the tub, checking his footing on the tile to keep from slipping. He moved to her door then across the rug, finally laying her on the velvet and satin counterpane beneath him. He slid her body across the slick and soft fabric, pulling sighs from deep within.
He smiled against her, the sounds sinking to his very soul. He reached for pillows, stacking them and rolling her over them onto her stomach, then set to worshiping her. He ran his hands up her body, soothing and holding. He shifted his hands around her torso, finding her succulent breasts and teasing them to fullness. His arousal rode against her thigh, against the scars left behind. She tensed, and he paused, breathing heavily by her ear.
“Sweet Lilly,” he panted, his breath coursing over her cheek. He moved back slowly, pulling the length of his body alongside her, watching her face.
Her eyes were wide in the dim light, her mouth open to him, taking in as much air as possible. His hand rested gently on her back, smoothing circles into her flesh.
“Sweet Lilly, tell me.”
She moved before he could catch her, pushing him flat on his back and straddling him, high on her knees. She clenched her eyes, impaling herself on him as he writhed, slow to comprehend her movements, shocked to catch up to her will. She sank, her head falling back as she cried out.
He grasped her hips, pushing her down and back, burying himself to the hilt in her sweetness. She moved her hands to his chest and, leaning heavily, she raised up, then pushed down again, picking up the rhythm he set. She looked into his face. The shock, the worry, and the unmistakable rise of passion fought to overtake him.
