by Anna Bradley
She might have blushed at her wantonness if Gideon hadn’t been as wild as she was. By the time he relinquished her breasts with one last lingering stroke with his tongue, he was moving against her, thrusting subtly. His chest was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and his breaths sawed in and out of his chest. He didn’t appear aware he was doing it, his hips moving in mindless, desperate arousal until she reached down between them and, with one careful flick of her fingers, slipped open the buttons on his breeches.
He froze then, swallowing. “Cecilia, are you sure you’re…is this what you want?”
She smiled and reached up to tug gently on a disheveled lock of his dark hair. He looked so young and boyish with it falling into his eyes, and it was so soft, she wanted to play with it forever, to wake up with her fingers buried in those thick waves. “Yes. I want you, Gideon.” She didn’t hesitate, but took his hand and dragged it down her thigh to the hem of her night rail, and closed his fingers around it.
He paused just long enough to draw in a deep breath before he caught a handful of the fragile linen and drew it up her legs, the fluttering cloth tickling her belly and dragging across her tender nipples before he drew it over her head and tossed it over the side of the bed.
Cecilia fell back against the pillows with a shy smile as Gideon gazed down at her, his breath not quite steady as he took her in with feverish blue eyes. “Is that a blush, sweetheart?” A soft smile crossed his lips as he touched gentle fingers to her cheek. “Here, and here, too.” He followed the sweep of pink from her face down her neck, his smile fading as it swept over her breasts and lower, lower…
“Such perfect skin,” he murmured as he splayed his big hand over her lower belly. “So soft and white, but for that sweet blush.”
Cecilia couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, could only gaze up at him, mesmerized by his murmurs and the gentle stroke of his hands over her skin. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her, touching her everywhere—her neck and shoulders, the tender skin under her breasts, the soft swell of her belly, until at last his hands settled on the inside of her thighs and he eased them gently apart.
He caught his breath as he looked at her center, his big, strong hands holding her open for his gaze. Cecilia felt her blush deepen, but it never occurred to her to try and cover herself, or push him away. She wanted him to look at her, wanted to see the desire in his eyes as he gazed down at her.
“God, look at you, so pink and beautiful here.” He toyed with the dark curls between her thighs, his blue eyes hot, and then, before Cecilia realized what he meant to do, he brushed his thumb over her damp center.
“Ah!” She arched underneath him as heat pooled in her belly.
Gideon’s gaze darted to her face, and a small smile rose to his lips. “Yes, that’s right. No, don’t do that, sweetheart.” Cecilia had pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to smother her cries, but he reached up and tugged it gently away. “I want to hear you cry out for me.”
Cecilia’s blush seared her skin. She didn’t know whether it was embarrassment or arousal, but when Gideon took both her wrists in his hand and drew them over her head, she kept them there, and soon enough whatever embarrassment she felt gave way to a desire unlike anything she’d ever known before.
Gideon dragged his thumb through her folds again, then again, watching her face and crooning to her as he slowly drove her mad.
His touch was light at first, soft—just the tip of his thumb brushing against the tender bud at her center, but as her soft moans grew desperate, he touched her with more deliberation, circling the straining nub over and over again, teasing and stroking it, his touch still maddeningly light, but faster now. “You look so beautiful like this, Cecilia. So wet for me.”
Small, helpless cries tore from Cecilia’s lips as he increased the pressure, his slippery fingers working her, gliding over her center. Her hips began to move in the same rhythm as his hands, chasing his touch until a low growl rumbled in his chest.
Cecilia cried out in protest when he withdrew his hand, leaving her open and throbbing for his touch. “No!” She tried to grab his wrist, but he was already lying flat on his stomach on the bed. She felt his hot breath drift over her aching core, and his palms against the insides of her thighs. “Open wider for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his voice harsh and tight. “Yes, like that. That’s what I want.”
A fleeting thought flew through Cecilia’s head—that she would have given him anything he asked for at that moment, anything he wanted, but it was gone again in an instant when she felt something fluttering against her…there…a soft tickle, the flick of the tip of his tongue, quickly, once, then again, and then…God, over and over again, teasing and stroking and making her wild for him, her hips arching to get closer to his teasing mouth.
She whimpered and moaned and cried out for him, and Gideon gave her what she wanted, what she needed, and more—all the things she didn’t know she wanted, didn’t know she needed. His hot, panting breaths, his tongue and lips, kissing and nibbling and sucking at her, his low, crooning voice telling her how beautiful and perfect she was, and urging her to take what she needed, take her pleasure…
Then she was falling, tumbling over the edge into a bliss she’d never known before, sharp and sweet at once, and Gideon stayed with her, his hands holding her hips to the bed as he took her through the delirium, his mouth gentling and slowing as the peak passed and the knot inside her unraveled, slow and so sweet, until she was lying boneless against the bed, half dazed, Gideon’s head resting on her belly, and her hands in his hair.
It was some time before Cecilia came back to herself, but at last her breathing calmed, and she was able to raise her head. Gideon looked up when he felt her shift, and a satisfied smile curved his lips when he saw her face. “Are you…was that all right?”
An incredulous laugh left Cecilia’s lips, and she gave his hair a playful tug. “Was it all right? It was a good deal better than all right, although I may never move again.”
Gideon’s smile widened, as if he was pleased to find he’d rendered her comatose. He lifted his head from her belly as she held out her arms to him, and he shimmied up the bed to gather her close. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, then eased her head against his chest. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
Sleep? But surely, that wasn’t…all?
No, at one time she might have thought so, but she did live in London, and she was one of Lady Clifford’s pupils. She’d seen a number of things another young woman might not have, and heard even more. Whatever few mysteries remained had been dispelled by Sophia, after her marriage to Lord Gray.
Cecilia knew very well the long, hard length Gideon was trying to keep from prodding into her hip meant he hadn’t taken his pleasure, and that he was certainly suffering now because of it. She also knew he was attempting to be decent and noble, the ridiculous man.
Well, she wouldn’t have it. The bedroom was no place for decency and nobility.
Cecilia raised her head from Gideon’s chest, and before he knew what she was about she’d scrambled to her knees. Her expression must have given her away, because Gideon’s eyes widened as his gaze met hers. “Cecilia, what are you—”
“I’m not ready to sleep yet.” She braced her hands on his chest, and with one quick move settled herself on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips. Her gaze moved hungrily over his bare chest and flat stomach. “I’m not tired,” she murmured, teasing her fingers through the line of dark hair that disappeared into his breeches.
His mouth opened, but he struggled to get any words past his lips as his heated gaze moved slowly over her bare, flushed skin, lingering on the curves of her breasts. “I-I don’t think we should…”
He trailed off to watch, mesmerized, as she played with that trail of springy hair on his belly, her fingernails scraping lightly against his bare skin, until she slipped her hand under the waistband of hi
s breeches and drew him out, hard and aching, from the crumpled folds of his falls. “Cecilia…” he swallowed, his gaze meeting hers.
“I’m awake, Gideon.” Cecilia hesitated, shyness overtaking her, but his long, hard length was throbbing against her palm, and the need in his eyes, the ragged edge to his breath decided her. “I’ve never been wider awake in my life,” she murmured, as she began to caress him.
“Cecilia, I…ah.” Gideon broke off with a gasp as she dragged her hand up and then down again, her eyes opening in wonder at the slide of that thin, silky skin over the heated length beneath. She bit her lip as she met his gaze. “Is this right?”
Gideon stared up at her, his eyelids falling to half-mast and his lips parting as she kept stroking him. “Yes,” he choked out on a low groan. He shifted underneath her, spreading his thighs wider as if he couldn’t stop himself. “It’s so good, sweetheart.”
He didn’t need to say anything more. His body—his broken moans, his strangled breaths—told her everything she needed to know. Cecilia tightened her grip around him and watched, transfixed, as he began to meet her every stroke with a subtle thrust of his hips. Cecilia slid her thumb up to circle his tip, her tongue darting out to touch her bottom lip when his hips jerked. “I could watch you like this all—oh!”
A groan tore from his lips, and the next thing Cecilia knew she was on her back with a large, aroused marquess on top of her, nudging her legs apart with his hips. “Do you want me, Cecilia?” He slipped his hand between her thighs and parted her swollen flesh with gentle fingers to stroke her. “Do you want me here?”
“Yes.” Cecilia sighed, twining her arms around his neck. “I want all of you.”
Gideon’s body was taut with leashed desire, but he held back, his lips in her hair and on her neck and breasts, circling and rubbing her eager nub, tearing whimpers from her throat. He waited until she was thrashing against the bed before he slipped one long finger inside her.
Cecilia’s mouth sought his as she arched into his touch. “Gideon, please.”
“Shh. I’ve got you.” He pressed a tender kiss to her lips, but still he took his time, reducing her to quivering flesh until at last…dear God, yes, at last…with a guttural groan he eased the tip of his hard length inside her. He paused when he met resistance, his every muscle tensing with the effort to remain still. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
“No, don’t stop.” Cecilia arched against him, clawing at his sweat-slick back. Gideon groaned again, then with a quick shift of his hips, thrust inside. Cecilia gasped at the sharp burst of pain, but Gideon crooned to her through his panting breaths until the pain faded, and her body eased around him.
He pulled back to gaze down into her face, his beautiful blue eyes dark with concern. He started to speak, but Cecilia touched her fingers to his lips, hushing him. “I need you, Gideon.”
His eyes slid closed for an instant, and then…then he began to move. Slow, careful nudges until his gentle thrusts weren’t enough, and Cecilia wrapped her legs around his hips to urge him on. “More.”
A desperate groan tore from Gideon’s lips as he surged forward. Cecilia sank her fingernails into his shoulders, a needy cry on her lips. His heated length seemed to swell inside her then, pushing her closer toward that mindless pleasure with each thrust. “Oh, oh…oh, please.” She clung to him, that delicious heat pulling tighter until with a fierce thrust of Gideon’s hips, it exploded inside her.
“That’s it, Cecilia. Come for me, sweetheart—” Gideon broke off with a gasp and buried his face in her neck as the tight, hot grip of her body hurled him into his own release. He clutched her against him until their bodies stopped trembling, then he raised himself up and drew back to look into her face. “Now are you ready to go to sleep?” he asked, his lips quirked.
Cecilia’s body was flushed, languid, her limbs so heavy with satisfaction she wondered if her bones had melted, but she returned Gideon’s smile with a sleepy one of her own. “Yes, my lord.”
He chuckled, and brushed the damp hair back from her forehead. “Ah, dutiful at last.”
He took her lips in a kiss so sweet it made Cecilia’s eyes sting, then gathered her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She fell asleep to his hand drifting through her hair, and his heartbeat in her ear.
Chapter Twenty-three
Gideon didn’t sleep that night, but for the first time since Cassandra’s death, it wasn’t because worry and grief kept him awake, or tumbled him in and out of nightmares.
It was because he didn’t want to miss a moment of holding Cecilia in his arms.
He tucked her close, her head nestled against his shoulder and her dark hair spread in wild disarray across his chest. He stroked her back, his fingers learning the smooth, soft texture of her skin, the way her thick eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept.
She woke before dawn, her eyelids lifting over sleepy dark eyes.
“You’re in my bedchamber, and…my bed,” Gideon murmured as soon as she focused her drowsy gaze on him. He’d half expected her to wake in a panic, unsure where she was, but she looked far from panicking as her lips curved into a soft smile.
“I know.” Her warm breath drifted over his skin, and she trailed her soft hand down his chest, tugging gently on the whorls of dark hair there. “I remember.” Her smile turned teasing. “Did you think I could forget last night, my lord?”
That teasing smile, her heavy-lidded eyes and flushed skin, the nimble fingers stroking his chest—Gideon took a long, slow breath and prayed for strength. She wasn’t his countess yet. As far as anyone at Darlington Castle was concerned, Cecilia was still Isabella’s nursemaid, and Gideon wasn’t a gentleman who debauched his servants.
At least, he didn’t do it twice.
Cecilia, however, had other ideas. “This is very nice, right here.” She squirmed closer, her fingers playing over his chest.
Gideon caught her hand in his to still it. “What, my chest hair? You do seem fascinated with it.”
“I am. It’s softer than I would have thought. But it’s not just that.” She tugged her hand free and resumed stroking, a slow, maddening slide over his chest and down his body, her curious fingers sifting through the trail of hair under his navel. “It’s all of you. All muscle and long, elegant bones.” She traced her fingertips over his collarbones. “Every inch of you is lean and hard.”
And growing harder by the minute.
Gideon tried to hold still, but his body grew more impatient with her every slow, sweeping stroke over his eager skin. It had been so long since he’d been touched, so long since he’d held a woman’s body next to his own.
So long since he’d given up on love…
He moaned when her fingertips grazed his nipple. “Cecilia—”
She did it again, a gentle tweak that made his eyes roll back in his head. “Oh. You like that, too. I’ve never…no man has ever touched me there before.”
An instinctive growl rumbled in Gideon’s chest at the mere thought of another man touching her. “No other man ever will.”
Cecilia’s hand stilled, and she peeked up at him from under her lashes. “Is that so, Lord Darlington?”
“It is.” Gideon reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Are you this possessive with all your servants?” She leaned over him and pressed a kiss to the center of his chest.
“No,” Gideon bit out, gritting his teeth against the pleasure of her warm lips exploring his flesh. “But it’s been some time since I regarded you as my servant, if I ever did.”
“Hmmm.” Cecilia didn’t appear to be listening to him. She nipped at his chest, pressed an experimental kiss to his nipple, then drew back to study the effect. “Oh.” Her eyes widened when it hardened, then her lips curved with an impish smile. She kissed him there again, lingering this time, then drew back and ran her thumb ove
r the damp peak.
“Ah, God.” Gideon’s breath left his lungs in a rush, blood pooling between his legs, fierce desire unfurling in his belly. He was doing his best not to writhe under her touch, but his cock was hardening, twitching insistently against the coverlet.
Cecilia watched in fascination as the touch of her fingers and lips made it jerk and strain for her. She licked delicately at his nipple, like a cat licking up cream, tearing one low groan after another from his throat.
When she lifted her head at last, his nipple was hard and aching, and his entire body was flushed with arousal. She gazed at him with heavy-lidded eyes, as if she were contemplating what to do with him next.
Gideon let out a broken moan as she slid her hand down his belly and under the edge of the coverlet, and took his straining length into her small hand. His hips gave a helpless thrust, all thought of restraint dissolving as he pushed his cock into her fist.
She sank her teeth into her lip. “May I stroke you?”
Gideon’s battle with his conscience was a brief one. He simply wanted her too much to resist. “Please.” His voice was hoarse.
Her lips parted as she began a slow, languid stroking.
Gideon arched into the caress, which was somehow both too much and not enough at once. “Harder, love, like this.” He closed his hand over hers and showed her how he liked to be touched. “Yes,” he hissed, his hand falling away as her fingers tightened around him, giving him the firm, fast strokes he needed. “Run your thumb over the head,” he begged in a choked whisper.
Cecilia circled the slippery head with a dainty thumb, her cheeks flushed with arousal as she watched him jerk and moan beneath her. “Tell me what you want, Gideon. I want to see you…I love watching you like this.”
Gideon arched his neck, tipping his head back against the pillow as her caresses grew bolder, her firm, slow strokes enough to drive him mad, but not enough to satisfy. It went on for what seemed an eternity to Gideon, one tormenting stroke after another until his chest was sheened with sweat and he was thrashing against the bed, incoherent pleas falling from his lips.
