My Lady's Pleasure

by Julia Justiss

  “For one, every question of philosophical significance was first posed by Plato and Aristotle, and all analysis since is based on their work. But to read them in the Greek—ah, the precision and clarity of the language, the poetry of its form, make it well worth the mastering.”

  “A master of Greek? My, you are accomplished! I wonder you did not make a career at scholarship, given that—” He must have winced, for she stopped abruptly. “I-I’m sorry. That is none of my affair.”

  “You needn’t apologize.” His knew his smile had a harsh edge. “A scandal that was the talk of the ton hardly qualifies as confidential. ’Tis true that playing the gamester wasn’t my original plan.”

  “But after…what occurred, you had no other choice,” Valeria said quietly. “Life is so often unfair. You forfeited your future, but I’ve not heard anything to suggest the lady involved suffered accordingly.”

  She obviously wished to know the whole, and there was no reason not to tell her, Teagan supposed. For the first time, he even felt a willingness to share the bitter truth.

  The sympathy in her glance was almost…painful, however, and he looked away. “I’d penned her enough rash testaments of my devotion that, once the affair became known, it was no piece of work to fix the blame. I even wrote one note—by the saints, what a fool I was!—begging her to run away with me. As if any woman with a particle of sense would have eloped with a stripling who possessed barely a shilling and no possible means of support.”

  Though he shook his head mockingly, he knew Valeria’s discerning ear had probably read in the timbre of his voice how desperately the love-besotted university lad had suffered from an older woman’s rejection, more keenly even than from the wreckage of his career.

  He looked back at Valeria, a wry smile on his face. “I can scarcely believe I’m burdening you with sorry details that, I assure you, I’ve never before revealed.”

  “Friends trust each other with their confidences,” she said softly. “I am honored you would confide yours to me.”

  Warmed by her sympathy, he tried to lighten his voice as he continued. “She did succeed in recapturing the full attention of her often-neglectful husband, which was perhaps her intent all along. In fact, I later came to suspect she arranged our last meeting so that we would be discovered.”

  As the full meaning of that revelation penetrated, Valeria’s pensive expression turned almost—ferocious.

  “That selfish, calculating bitch!” she cried. “She used you, then!”

  At first startled by her vehemence, Teagan began to chuckle. “My dear innocent, lest you have any doubt, let me assure you I used her, too—thoroughly and often.”

  “But to deliberately betray you, with no regard whatsoever to what that must mean to your position at the university! Why, she cannot have cared for you at all!”

  Teagan’s face sobered. “No, I don’t expect she did.”

  “Well, I think she should have been flogged in the main street of town!”

  Teagan watched her, so small and fierce, and the teasing reply he’d meant to utter failed him. So fierce—on his behalf. Bristling to right the wrongs done him.

  “Whist, such a bold champion ye be,” he said unsteadily. “Ready to charge into battle.”

  “Well, someone should have!” she retorted.

  A sparkle of more than ordinary brilliance filled her dark eyes. His throat constricting, he reached out, to catch on his finger one crystalline tear.

  She was weeping—with outrage at his pain.

  Suddenly, the faint odor of a dimly remembered perfume washed over him, the feel of gentle hands lifting him to his feet, brushing off his knees and hugging him close. The reassuring certainty that whatever distress he’d suffered would be dissipated in the security of that embrace.

  He came back to the present to find his fingers still resting on Valeria’s cheek. She stared up at him, motionless, as if in thrall to his touch.

  Teagan’s chest tightened until it was difficult to breathe. A light-headed, falling sensation made him dizzy. To steady himself, he reached out and drew her, unresisting, into his arms.

  “Ah, sweet lady,” he whispered into the silk of her hair, “don’t weep for me.”

  She moved away, and, panicking at the thought of letting her go, he tightened his grip. But she merely drew back far enough to angle her face up to his.

  Gentleness ignited into conflagration at the first brush of their lips.

  She made a small, impatient sound deep in her throat and dug her fingers into his shoulders, urging him nearer. Except that he’d already tightened his arms to crush her close, starving for the feel of her against his chest, desperate to taste her lips, her tongue, her teeth, to inhale the essence of her and transport them to a place where separate entities dissolved and they became one.

  His blood was boiling through his veins, his pulse frantic to keep pace. Her fingers tugged aside his loosened cravat, stroked the skin beneath, slid lower to scratch at the buttons at his neck.

  With the last shred of his rapidly disintegrating sanity, Teagan realized that if she succeeded in wrenching open his shirt and running her greedy, knowing fingertips over the bared skin of his chest, he’d be catapulted beyond control, driven only by the raging need to disrobe and possess her. Here, now, beside the desk or on the sofa, in a public room where at any moment a servant might walk in.

  Disengaging from that kiss was the hardest task he’d ever performed. With a mewling sound of protest she resisted his retreat.

  “Valeria, don’t!” he gasped. “Touch me again, and by the saints, I’ll be taking you right this minute, in your own library. You can’t want that!”

  Her eyes unfocused, her breathing ragged, she stared up at him as if his words made no sense. “I—I can’t?”

  “No, sweeting.” Unable to let her go, he left his hands loosely cupped over the softness of her shoulders, and by a ferocious force of will kept her at arm’s length. “You…wanted us to be friends. Just friends.”

  “Friends?” she repeated, swallowing hard. “D-did I? I seem to be having difficulty remembering.”

  The entreaty in her passion-glazed eyes made it difficult for him, too, to recall the reasons why they must resist what they both wanted. “So do I,” he admitted.

  “Teagan, could we not be…closer friends?”

  Another wave of heat scalded him at her inference. “Mo muirnin, that’s what you want?”

  “Yes,” she whispered faintly, and then louder, “yes.”

  So be it, he thought, and abandoned the thankless battle to be noble. “You’ll let me come to you later?”

  “Come now.”

  With hands that trembled as much as his own, she reached to pull his head down for another fierce kiss. “Hurry!” she said, and gathering up her skirts, fled from the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  T eagan gave Valeria a half hour to prepare for bed and dismiss her maid, then he blew out the candles and headed for the stairway. He climbed the risers almost without seeing them, his breath coming fast, his heart tripping a rapid beat as if he’d been running rather than maintaining the decorous pace of a guest retiring for the night.

  He entered his room and leaned back against the door. How much longer must he wait until he could be reasonably sure of not encountering any servants in the hall? Restless, he fingered the buttons at his waistcoat, then decided not to strip to his shirtsleeves. He wanted Valeria to relieve him of his garments…one by one.

  Greedily he envisioned it, the images sending a dizzying rush of heat and need through his already needy body. How he loved her touch, that endearing mix of eagerness and hesitancy as her fumbling fingers struggled to detach a button from its mooring. The catch in her breath when garment gave way to skin; the shuddering inhale as, with the pads of her fingers, she explored the contours of his body, avid, eager, yet reverent.

  Cherishing.

  His skin grew damp with a moisture she soon would take on her tongue, gi
ving back of her own. And suddenly he could not wait a moment longer.

  Forcing himself to move calmly, like a proper guest on a nocturnal search for wine or candles, he proceeded down the hallway into the master wing. And then he was before her door, the handle turning noiselessly as he grasped it.

  He slipped in, and caught his breath. Evidently she’d not heard him enter, for Valeria stood near the window, her back to the door, her hands clasping and unclasping behind her. Pale moonlight silhouetted the dark outline of her figure within a halo of silky golden fabric that reflected the glow of the candles on the bedside table.

  “Valeria,” he whispered.

  With a small exclamation of surprise she whirled to face him. Before she could move, he covered the distance between them, took her hands and kissed them.

  “You’re trembling! I’m sorry I frightened you.”

  “No, I’m not frightened.” Her wide dark eyes devoured his face, uncertain still. “It’s…just that it’s been so long—and I want you so badly.”

  Tenderness invaded his chest and he smiled at her. “I’m here, mo muirnin.”

  He drew her into his arms. She slid her hands into his hair, tangling them in its strands, and pulled his mouth to hers in a fierce, hard kiss that left him gasping. While her eager tongue danced with his, their bodies bumped at chest, waist, hips in a series of torrid collisions that made him realize she wore nothing beneath the fine silk of her robe.

  When at last she broke the kiss, his knees were rubbery. She swayed as well, and he put his hands on her shoulders to brace her. “Ah, sweeting,” he said with an unsteady chuckle. “We’ve no need to rush. I want to carry you to the luxury of that great soft bed and come to know you again one slow inch at a time.”

  She shook her head vehemently, her eyes pleading. “Not slow! Not this time. Now, Teagan. Please!”

  Inhaling a deep breath, she gently pushed away his fingers, loosened her robe and shrugged it off her shoulders. Bereft of speech or movement, Teagan watched as the filmy material drifted to the floor, leaving her naked and vulnerable to his gaze.

  “Now,” she whispered.

  Transported to paradise, where does one start? At the hollow above the smooth curve of her collarbone, which cried out for his tongue? The plump breasts whose erect nipples beckoned him to taste and touch? The satin round of belly he could almost feel skimming beneath his fingertips, gliding under his lips? Or the tight curls below, springy softness concealing velvet folds whose hidden pearl yearned for the completion of his kiss, the caress of his thumb?

  The tightness of his breeches approached pain, but he would stave off fulfillment. The first time they’d come together, months ago, had been his. This, the first time they’d lie together after so long a wait, would be hers.

  “What do you want, Valeria?”

  “What do—?” She broke off, confused. To his delight, comprehension sent a rosy blush to her cheeks. “I…I want you to…take me.”

  “How shall I take you? Tell me.”

  “I…” She moistened her lips. He bent to capture her tongue, drawing it between his lips to stroke and tease, but preventing her from pressing her body against his.

  He released her mouth. “Say it, Valeria. The very words as you describe it will give me pleasure.”

  “I…want your hands…on my breasts.”

  “Like this?” He cupped his hands under them, rubbed his thumbs across the nipples.

  Her gasp was his answer.

  “What now?” he whispered.

  She wobbled, her grip on his arm unsteady. “B-bed.”

  Hands still caressing, he helped her pliant body recline on the sheets, propped pillows beneath her head.

  “Your mouth…” She urged his chin downward.

  “At your nipples?”

  “Ah, yes,” she said, then groaned as he gently raked one taut tip with his teeth.

  Eyes closed, for timeless moments she held him there, to pleasure first one breast, then the other.

  Finally she moved him away. “Please…I want…you,” she said between gasps, “here.” One hand flailed toward her slightly parted thighs. “Within me.”

  Her skin was sheened with dampness, small rivulets of it pooling between her breasts, in the valley of her navel. Teagan knew she could not be far from completion. And much as he yearned to join her in one flesh, he craved even more to relive the dream that had titillated him all these months—the slow torture of his body inflamed, while her fingers freed him from his clothing one agonizing button at a time. He didn’t want this to end too soon, in a frantic pop of fasteners, a ripping down of his trouser flap.

  Besides, the means of sweet deliverance were so temptingly close. He nudged at her thighs, which she hastened to part wider. Then, before she could realize his intent, he moved a finger within those hot silky folds while he bent to suckle the sensitive nub above.

  Her back arched; her nails bit into his shoulders. Moments later she uttered a muffled cry as the waves of pleasure he unleashed washed over her.

  Afterward, she lay limp and spent. Still completely clothed, he eased up to recline beside her.

  When at last her dazed eyes opened, he leaned to gently kiss her cheek.

  “You cheated,” she accused.

  “I deflected.”

  A lazy smile grew on her lips, a wicked twinkle in her eye. She traced a finger down his shirtfront, slowing as she descended, inching past his waistband, creeping down the superfine of his breeches, until she stopped with the barest pressure of her fingertip against the pulsating bulge beneath his trouser flap.

  He stifled a groan.

  “Now,” she murmured, “I want slow.”

  Much later, Teagan awakened against the damp pillows to find Valeria asleep in his arms. A sense of awe filled him as he gazed at her relaxed figure, her head cradled in the hollow of his shoulder, her breasts at his chest, her soft belly and warm thigh pressed against his thoroughly satisfied member, one long sweep of leg entwined with his.

  Powerful emotion surged through him. He drew her closer and wrapped his leg more tightly around hers. He’d been wrong about the library, he decided. This was heaven.

  He couldn’t remember ever sleeping close to anyone before. He’d been exiled to the garrets growing up, and for protection’s sake had never attempted to lie beside any of the lads while at Eton or university. Even if he’d had the inclination, given the nature of his relationship with the ladies with whom he’d previously trysted, there’d been good reason not to linger once the coupling was done.

  He almost shook Valeria, wanting her to wake and share with him this sense of euphoria and peace, then chuckled at his foolishness. She’d be up betimes to care for the Winterpark flock. Not being able to make out the time on the mantel clock above the dying fire, he wasn’t sure how much longer before he must leave her.

  Though he wished the night might never end. The strength of his will had been nothing against the ferocity of his need, and though they’d avoided torn buttons and ripped clothing, even the second loving had not been slow enough. But the third—ah, that was a sensual ballet of point and counterpoint, arched arms and the curve of leg over leg…hands skimming down a shiver of skin…lips dipping to drink and drink again…the final melding of limbs into a long-delayed, sense-stunning climax.

  He was smiling into the darkness, reliving it all over again, when Valeria stirred.

  “Teagan?” she breathed.

  He kissed her forehead. “Mo muirnin.”

  She smiled. “I hope that means something good.”

  “My darling.”

  Her smile softened. “You have made me feel cherished, and I thank—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “Whist, and what did ye tell me earlier? No thanks needed between friends. Especially not very close—” he kissed her eyelashes “—very special—” he kissed the tip of her nose “—friends.” He claimed her lips.

  She parted them for him, met his tongue in a waltz that was l
ong and slow and sweet, until the member he thought totally satisfied began to stir once more.

  But there was no more time now, he knew, so best to stop this before it began. He broke the kiss and pulled her up to sit beside him.

  “Do you visit tenants again today?”

  “Yes. Would…would you like to accompany me?”

  “I should be delighted.”

  “I shall be leaving very early.

  “I’ll find you.”

  “I’ll have Cook pack a lunch.”

  He nodded and made himself ease from the bed, to keep himself from blurting that the food didn’t matter; he could nourish himself on the sight of her face, drink in the timbre of her voice and the sound of her laughter.

  But then he’d sound like the besotted moonling he was.

  The fire had died to embers and he shivered a bit in the chill. “’Tis cold. You could help me dress.”

  Her teeth gleamed in the darkness. “No. This friend is better at assisting you to undress.”

  Suddenly he wasn’t so cold. “I shall remember that.”

  After donning his clothes, a mundane procedure made unexpectedly erotic by knowing that she was naked, watching him, Teagan came back to the bed.

  He leaned over to fill his hands with her bare breasts while he nibbled at her lips. “Until later.”

  “Aye, mo muirnin.”

  Valeria hugged herself and watched Teagan’s silent exit. ’Twas still before dawn, but she had no desire to sleep any longer. Besides, it would be best if she were to make her preparations and depart even earlier than usual. Before her new household she might don her clothes and her respectable widow manners with impunity, but Mercy knew her too well. One look, and the maid would guess everything.

  This interlude with Teagan was a madness that could not long endure, but for the few precious days that it lasted, she meant to throw aside caution and enjoy every moment. She did not wish to hear—or heed—the warnings of disaster her old nurse would feel compelled to deliver.

  All her life Valeria Arnold had followed instructions, done her duty, made the best of whatever fate dealt her. And when Teagan Fitzwilliams rode out of her life again, as she knew he would, she would doubtless need every bit of her fortitude and endurance to survive.