He lowered her to the floor, making her stand. That suited Mairin. It let her press herself against him. Now, though, she had to strain to reach his mouth.
Iefan caught her shoulders in his hands and held her away from him. “Mairin, no. You will come to regret this, if you continue.”
The corridor was dark, except for a streak of moonlight which shone through the paned window at the end, to pool on the rug there. In the ghostly light, Iefan’s dark eyes were completely black and unreadable. It didn’t matter, though. Mairin gripped the lapel of his evening jacket. “I will regret not continuing,” she breathed.
“Gascony—” His voice was hoarse.
“I ruined it,” Mairin said. “I was too upset and spoke the truth.”
Iefan’s gaze shifted over her face, examining her, searching for details, for understanding.
“Gascony is lost to me,” Mairin finished. “I am so tired of pretending, Iefan. I don’t have to, with you.”
“Then it is escape you seek?” His voice was tight.
Mairin met his eyes. “I seek you. I want what you make me feel, every time you look at me.” She gave his lapel a little shake. “Even if it is only one night, it might be enough to halt this…this madness which boils in my blood. Then I can let go.” She tugged on the lapel. “Kiss me, Iefan.”
“If I do, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice was low. “The madness runs in both of us.”
“Then let us be rid of it.”
He considered her for a long moment, while her heart ran hard. His hands shifted on her shoulders, then dropped. He picked up her hand and took her back down the corridor toward the stairs. He pushed open a door there and drew her inside.
The room was his. A sea trunk sat beside the washstand, the brass runners gleaming in the moonlight. Iefan’s tweed jacket, the one he always wore when he took her for shooting lessons, hung over the end of the bed.
He moved over to the dressing table and she heard the rattle of a match box. A match flared. He lit the lamp sitting there and turned it down. His gaze, when he turned to face her once more, was steady.
Mairin closed the door softly and went to him. She put her arms around his neck. “Beyond kissing you, I do not know what to do.”
“You will,” he breathed. He gripped her waist with both hands and kissed her, drawing her up on her toes so he could deepen the kiss.
It was as magical as the first kiss. Better, perhaps, because Mairin had yearned to feel the wonderful sensations once more. His tongue drove into her mouth without hesitation, to stroke her own. She opened herself up to the experience, in every way she knew how.
She had no fear. She did not quake at the prospect of the sin she was about to commit. It did not feel like a sin. Society knew as much about sins as they did about truth, so she would not use their measure tonight.
She wanted to learn the truth, to understand this thing between her and Iefan. She wanted to know what her body ached for.
Iefan’s lips moved to the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, her jaw, and her throat. Her head tipped back all by itself. She sighed. “I so adore your kisses!”
His lips blazed a path down her throat. “I can do better than that,” he muttered, his lips brushing her skin. There was a note in his voice which made her shiver. When his lips touched her flesh above the low line of her dress, the trembling increased. She could imagine his mouth traveling farther and wanted it, only the dress was in the way.
It occurred to her that if she enjoyed the touch of his mouth so much, surely he would equally enjoy her mouth upon him? She acted upon the idea instantly, giving herself no time to second guess. Iefan bowed over her, his hair brushing her chin as his mouth moved over her flesh. His hands were still around her waist, anchoring her and holding her steady so he could feast upon her. It put him in the right position for her to slide her hands beneath his jacket and up over his shoulders, so the jacket lifted and slid down his arms.
“mmm…” he breathed against her skin. He let go of her waist and shrugged out of the jacket. It dropped to the floor, the contents of his pockets giving a muffled thud. He straightened and reached around behind her. “You begin to understand, I see.” He eased the hooks of her dress open, his fingers moving swiftly, with practiced eased.
Mairin held her breath while he removed her bodice, then loosened her skirt and petticoat and made her step out of them. She could feel herself blushing as she stood in her corset, camisole and knickers. To counter the maidenly coyness, Mairin reached up and swiftly removed the clips holding her hair in place and shook her head, to make her hair drop around her shoulders.
“Now let me,” she said, reaching for the buttons on his waistcoat.
Iefan remained still as she slid the buttons undone and removed the waistcoat. He tugged the bowtie undone and threw it away, as she unfastened the pearl buttons on his shirt. When three buttons were open, the weight of the collar pulled the fronts open. Bare flesh showed between them and she gasped. “No undershirt…” she breathed, her heart thudding even harder than before.
“I don’t trouble myself with underthings,” he said. “Does that shock you?”
Mairin stared at the smooth flesh showing above his shirt. “No,” she breathed. “It seems…wicked.”
“Convenient, perhaps. Why wicked?”
“Because…” She swallowed, as indistinct images crowded her mind. “I’m not entirely sure, yet it seems to me that one layer less to deal with must be a good thing.”
Iefan’s smile was heated and slow. “You have the heart of a sensualist. Let’s bring your intellectual understanding up to par.” He gathered her hair in one hand. “Soft,” he whispered. He drew her head back with it and bent and kissed her upper breasts.
Mairin gasped, her nerves fizzing. The movement of his mouth against her breasts was delightful. It was transmitted to the flesh between her legs, which throbbed heatedly. Her hips jutted forward in response.
Iefan stroked his tongue over her skin and she moaned. Her corset was too tight. Too constricting. It barred his access. She scrabbled at the hooks.
“Let me,” he said. His fingers moved far more deftly than she could manage right now. The hooks eased open swiftly. He removed the corset and dropped it on top of her dress.
“Everything,” Mairin said, pulled at the ribbon at the top of her camisole. “It is all in the way.”
Iefan’s laugh was breathy. Soft. His hands moved ahead of hers, unbuttoning and untying and easing the undergarments and her stockings and shoes from her body. When she at last stood naked, the possibilities made her tremble. She was exposed and accessible.
“Now you. I want to see. And…”
His eyes narrowed. “And…?”
Mairin gave an impatient tsk of her tongue and reached for the buttons on his trousers.
Iefan laughed and pushed her hand away. “I’ll be faster.” And he was. He tackled the buttons on his shirt first and dropped the garment with the cuffs and collar still attached onto the pile of her own clothing. His chest gleamed in the lamplight, a pale coffee color. Along the right side was the red slashing score mark where the knife had cut him, weeks ago.
His muscles shifted beneath the skin as he dropped his hands to his trousers, making Mairin catch her breath. His arms were strong and he had wide wrists. The tendons flexed above them as he worked the buttons free.
Mairin thought her heart might leap from her breast as she watched the soft flesh come into view as his trousers parted. Her trembling increased. The tips of her breasts ached.
Iefan removed his trousers and shoes and hose in two swift movements and straightened.
Mairin drew in a shuddering breath, examining him. He was not huge with muscle the way Jack and Ben were, yet he was strong and lean. His arms and shoulders were nicely rounded.
Mairin’s gaze returned to the jutting shaft between his legs. It was red and thick with veins along the length. She curled her fingers around him. The heat surprised her. So did
the silky softness of the flesh. It made her want to stroke it. So she did, sliding her hand along the length.
Iefan’s groan and the shift of his hips in reaction pleased her in a way which made her flesh throb. She repeated the action. This time her hand bumped against the flaring head of the shaft and Iefan hissed. His hand settled on her waist, his thumb moving restlessly against her belly.
With her hand still curled around him, Mairin leaned and kissed the center of his chest, now she was free to do so. Remembering how his tongue had felt against her flesh, she stroked hers over his skin. A barrage of sensations struck her—salt and heat and softness. The taste which was surely Iefan’s alone. His gasp and the slight trembling deep inside him. The pulse of his heart, which was anything but calm, beneath her cheek.
His fingers slid into her hair and held her head. He did not guide her, although his fingers shifted and flexed, as if he longed to.
Mairin let her lips move over to the flat mound and the small disk of his nipple. Letting her instincts guide her, she stroked the tip of her tongue over the sharp little organ.
The sound Iefan made was half groan, half gusty exhalation. His fingers tightened and he lifted her head and bent his own. With a soft noise of satisfaction, his lips closed around the tip of her breast.
Oh!
Mairin clutched at his head, her breath shortening to little pants, and her body shaking so badly she wasn’t sure she could remain standing for much longer. The delicious tugging and scraping of her nipple made her squirm and gasp.
When he transferred his mouth to the other, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back into his hand. He held her up as he toyed with her breasts and she shuddered against him.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed and laid her on it. Mairin didn’t think her heart could possibly beat any faster, yet it slammed against her chest.
Iefan spread her legs and settled between them, propping himself over her. His eyes met hers.
She caught her breath as his shaft pressed up against her inner folds. She was slippery and heated there. She felt slickness, inside and out. Emptiness, too. At the touch of his shaft, understanding flooded her.
Iefan eased into her, spreading her flesh. Dots of sweat gathered on his temples as he worked to take her maidenhead as gently as possible. There was no pain, yet the tightness inside seemed to ease suddenly and he pushed in even more deeply, until his body pressed up against hers. Iefan brought her knee up against his hip and propped himself over her, his arms and shoulders taut. His gaze shifted over her face, assessing her.
“It’s wonderful,” she breathed truthfully. “As wonderful as your kisses. More.”
His mouth turned up at one corner. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever told me.” He bent and pressed his lips to hers. He shifted inside her with the movement.
He pushed back inside and she gasped, clutching at him. It was a glorious sensation.
Iefan thrust again and again. She clenched around him, muscles she didn’t know she had squeezing and relaxing. Everything throbbed, even her fingertips, as he drove himself into her.
Iefan had been right. She did understand, now. As his movements quickened, she recognized that a moment was coming. Her heart grew frenzied. Her breath deserted her. She could only sip and pant. Her hips rose to meet his body, reveling in the taking.
With a groan that seemed to tear from deep inside him, Iefan grew taut and still. His shaft pulsed.
Mairin could barely stay still against him. The same pinnacle which had gripped him was just out of reach for her. She gave a soft moan.
Iefan opened his eyes and looked down at her. His smile was knowing. “Look at you…!” he breathed. He lifted her wrist up over her head until the knuckles brushed the iron frame of the bed. “Grip the rail,” he told her. “Both hands, and don’t let go.”
She closed the fingers of both hands around a rail each. It made her breasts lift, as if she were offering them, and her body tightened at the idea.
Iefan withdrew from her and she gave a little cry of protest. He pressed his finger to her lips. “Now I can think once more…” he whispered and dropped his head to her breasts and sucked the tip of one into his mouth.
Mairin writhed as he played with her breasts with his hand and his mouth, torturing her with sensations which washed across every extremity. When his other hand slipped between her legs and pressed up against the swollen, moist nub of her, she cried out. He stroked it, as he scraped his teeth against her nipple. Her breath hitched, as the pleasure reached a crescendo, then tore through her, shredding nerves and dissolving her muscles, and shattering her thoughts.
When she could breathe once more and think, she realized Iefan was lying beside her, his long fingers resting on her bare hip, stroking softly. Her arms laid uselessly on the pillows.
Mairin opened her eyes and turned her head. With a mighty effort, she moved her arm out of the way.
Iefan’s gaze met hers.
“Oh, my…” she breathed.
The little curl of the corner of his mouth held no cynicism this time. There was knowledge there, only it was shared knowledge, now. “Indeed,” he breathed.
“Now I understand why men are so obsessed about such matters.”
“Every man would be, if they had a partner like you to play with.” Iefan picked up her hand. “You are responsive, for a woman.” He kissed her knuckles.
“Really?” She couldn’t prevent the smile which formed. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me.”
Iefan laughed. “Oh, how I have corrupted you! A proper lady would have been insulted by my observation.”
“Is that what you think you have done? Corrupted me?”
His smile faded. “Not that I intended to, but yes. You are not the woman you were at the start of the season.”
“For which I should thank you,” Mairin said firmly.
He lifted a brow. “Thank me? You should curse me. I have ruined you.” His hand shifted against her hip. “And not just in this way.”
“I do not consider it ruin.” Mairin shifted onto her side so she could see him properly. “When I think of the poor fool I used to be, the bewildered woman who moved through six seasons wondering why no man was interested in her, when the answer was there all the time…well, I shudder in disgust.”
Iefan’s gaze was steady. “Does this new knowledge of yours extend into the future? What lies ahead, Mairin?”
She sighed. “I ruined my last chance of marrying well, tonight. In a way, it is a relief. The very worst has happened. Now I can retire to Marblethorpe and be myself and not worry about what anyone thinks, anymore. I will be an old maid, Iefan.” She shook her head. “There, I have said it.”
His hand settled on her waist. “Not all that old. And most definitely not a maiden anymore, either.”
“Thanks to you.” She reached and kissed him. His hand tightened on her waist, which was suggestive. Mairin slid her own hand over his hip, enjoying the touch of warm flesh, the ripple of muscles in response.
With a hungry growl, Iefan pulled her across the counterpane and into his arms. It would not be the last time he drew her back to him before dawn forced them to face the world once more.
Chapter Thirteen
As soon as the larks were stirring, Iefan rose and dressed silently, then eased from the room. Before the door fully closed, he paused to study Mairin as she laid in his bed, her hair scatted over the pillow. He followed the lovely curve of her hip and breast, the line of her throat, the thick lashes lying against her cheeks.
The little bow of her lips.
Then he made himself close the door and ease down the stairs, avoiding all the creaks and groans the old staircase usually gave out.
He must move. He had laid awake long after she had fallen asleep in his arms, her hand against his chest, while his thoughts chased each other around like hares and dogs. Walking would let him think.
He had always known
and accepted that any decision he made would bear consequences. It was the price of free will, which many men were unwilling to pay. They would lie and cheat and dodge, to avoid full payment for their actions.
Mairin wasn’t aware of it, yet, but the decisions of last night had consequences, too. Perhaps mundane consequences—a child was always possible. Mairin wasn’t the sophisticated woman who was Iefan’s usual prey. She was not a sweet innocent anymore, either. Last night had been her decision as much as his. He had started this process, though. It would be irresponsible to not linger and make sure she survived the evening unscathed.
Iefan turned into Brook Street and skirted the milkman’s horse as it plodded driverless along the curb while the milkman scurried from house to house, dropping his urns.
How long should he hover?
Perhaps always. The thought dropped into his mind like a pebble plinking into a still pond.
Iefan came to a halt He gripped a bar of wrought iron in the fence he stood beside. The chilled, damp iron bit into his fingers. He barely noticed, for he was too busy contemplating the novel idea.
Why not? The secondary question brushed by. She was alone and facing spinsterhood. She was good company. She made him laugh. It seemed she had an appetite for sex which would ensure he not grow bored in that direction, either.
If he was to marry anyone at all, then he suspected he might just be able to withstand it, if Mairin was the one he married. They understood one another. They were friends, more or less.
Life with her in it would not be dull. This season had been anything but bland.
Iefan let go of the fence, his heart thudding. He walked again, the sun warm on his back, his head down.
Why on earth was he considering marriage at all? He never had before. There had been no need to sacrifice his freedom when everything he wanted could be acquired one way or another without it.
Only now the endless parties, the drinking, the darker corners of life among his set of friends which often strained friendships and tested loyalties…now it felt tired and, yes, seedy.
Season of Denial (Scandalous Scions Book 7) Page 13
