Lord Misrule (The Matchmaking Earl Book 1)

by Donna Cummings

  She gave a little gasp, as she always did when he surprised her. He treasured those moments. How could he not want more of them?

  “I cannot believe that was your wish,” she said with a smile. “But I am gratified that I was able to make it come true.”

  He pretended to pout. “And why would you not believe me?”

  “Because if that had been your wish, you would not have refused my original offer.”

  “Ahh, but I did reconsider, once I came to my senses.”

  “I have always wondered what made you do so.”

  She waited patiently for his answer. He was not sure how much he wanted to admit. Did he want to tell her she had made it nearly impossible for him to cling to his once rigidly enforced rules? That, indeed, every moment he spent with her made him wonder why he continued to need them? He decided to go with a portion of the truth.

  “I found myself unable to see you despoiled by that roué Lord Dimsdale.”

  Her laugh was a delighted one. “A roué? I thought he might be a libertine, but never a roué.”

  “That is precisely why I decided I must rescue you from his clutches. You are too innocent in the ways of the world to discern the vast differences in the hierarchy of rogues.”

  “I must be, since I had no idea there was a hierarchy.” She chewed on a morsel of cheese while she gave him an assessing look. “Where might you be in this ranking?”

  “I am more of a rogue,” he answered cheerfully. “Sometimes a rake.” He was probably worse, but he did not wish to confess that just then. “However, I have not been, nor have I ever aspired to be, a roué, or a libertine.”

  She nodded, as if considering his answer. “I have discovered I am rather fond of rogues, and sometimes rakes,” she said. “Should I advance up the list, do you think? Perhaps, thanks to you and this affair, I have gained the requisite experience to add a roué or libertine to my wishes for the future.”

  The thought did not sit well with him, but he kept his voice light. “I would advise against it. The roués and libertines of London would not appreciate what you have to offer.” He traced his finger along her jawline. “And you are most definitely meant to be appreciated.”

  He was rewarded with another of her tiny gasps. It reminded him of her in the throes of passion, the gasps just as delighted, but a great deal more passionate.

  “So when you were dubbed Lord Misrule—that was an acknowledgment of your rakishness?”

  “That was a result of a holiday gathering where I was chosen to rule over the mischief. And apparently I did it so well, it became an annual responsibility. I enjoyed it, and threw myself into it with abandon. Until there was an incident, a few years ago…” He turned to gaze out the window, as if it could reveal a different ending to the tale. “A young woman came to harm, and I decided I wanted no more of the role. The title seems to have lingered, unfortunately.”

  It was a sanitized version of events, as well as his part in them. He had spent nearly every day for the past several years wishing he could take back the witty, yet careless, response to Belinda’s declaration of her feelings. He had never even known the young woman had felt anything for him. Nor had he known how desperately she would respond to his rejection.

  He had wanted to pass it off as a youthful indiscretion on his part, but what sort of man did that? A man of Lord Dimsdale’s caliber perhaps. In time, Nicholas hoped he could view his actions from that day in a more forgiving light. But now, when he thought of telling Juliana—

  No, it was best he did not reveal how he had been the ruin of a young woman’s hopeful future.

  Juliana gazed at him for several long moments. Nicholas was certain she had already connected this latest bit of information to the regret he had declared would be forever seared into his soul. He waited for her to probe, to ask for more details that he would do his best to evade, but once more she surprised him.

  “The title is actually Lord of Misrule,” she teased.

  “Yes, it is.” He managed to grin, relieved to leave thoughts of his callous behavior behind. “But what is the point of being in charge of mischief if you cannot make the rules suit your purposes?”

  “I agree. I plan to do so with my own future.”

  “I admire how your unhappy marriage did not render you world-weary and jaded.” He laughed. “In truth, I know many who would have blackmailed their spouses if they had been in your situation.”

  Juliana tilted her head as she considered that notion. “It always seemed as though Lord Courtenay was as imprisoned by his circumstances as I was. I did not wish to cause him even more distress. I actually felt guilty at how he showered me with money and gifts. And this unentailed property.” She smiled. “Though I will confess to enjoying the freedom all of it has now given me.”

  His admiration rose even more, but he was not sure how to tell her so. He veered back to a safer topic. “How do you even know of Lord Misrule? You were ensconced in your tower, far away from London, imagining dark-haired men crossing your threshold.”

  “I heard of you during my first season. Before my parents married me off.”

  “I made quite an impression then, since you chose me to be your first lover.” When she shrugged noncommittally, he continued. “Has this love affair lived up to your expectations?”

  “It has wildly exceeded them.”

  He raised his eyebrows as if shocked. “Indeed? Not only exceeded them, but wildly? Perhaps you are ready for a roué or libertine now.”

  She laughed, setting her glass on the floor next to her. “I am content to continue at the rogue level. Though all this talk of affairs has made me ponder returning to my bedchamber…”

  He dipped his head so he could kiss the delicate spot by her ear, the one that always caused her to shiver so deliciously. “Do you want me, right this moment?”

  She nodded quickly, several times, her breath speeding up.

  “Then there is no need to wait.”

  Juliana’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  He took her hand and pulled her up from the floor, and then walked until they were standing next to the window. He gently pressed her back against the smooth stone wall, her woolen pelisse protecting her from any cold that might seep in. He stepped closer, until their bodies were almost touching. Her eyes widened with excitement.

  That sort of response used to be a warning sign, reminding him it was time to retreat. Now he wanted to see that reaction constantly. He wanted to be the only one who made Juliana visibly excited, the only one who made her every single amorous wish come true.

  It was folly to think that way. Madness to believe it could ever be possible. Yet with each passing day he could not bear the thought of anyone else arousing that passionate light in her eyes, or bringing her to completion as he did.

  Nicholas slowly lifted her skirts with one hand. Juliana did not hesitate. She began to unfasten his breeches, her hands trembling with eagerness. He kissed her hard, pinning her against the stone wall, knowing their joining would be brief. They were both burning too hotly to last very long.

  He tugged her skirts up higher. In the next instant, thankfully, he was free of his breeches and buried inside her.

  Her gasp of pleasure nearly undid him. So did her heat, and the way she wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper. He could not hold back. There was nothing sweet or loving about this. In truth, he felt primitive, desperate to mark her as his, even knowing she never would be. Maybe once, long ago, he could have been deserving enough, but now…

  He drove into her even harder. It made her moan louder, grabbing at him more frantically. It spurred him on. No matter who might be her lover after this, he would always be her first. He would ensure she could never forget how he had sent her spiraling into ecstasy over and over. He would make every single one of these memories last in her mind, vividly, for the rest of her days.

  “Nicholas,” she whispered. “The pleasure is too intense. Unbearably so.”

&nbs
p; There was no prayer of stopping after that sweet confession. He pounded, mercilessly, determined to have her shatter completely. He placed his open mouth on hers, not to swallow her screams, but because he needed to be even closer to her. He had never desired any woman like this before. The intensity, the need, his desperate frustration, all of it came close to overwhelming him.

  He pulled her breath from her lungs. She willingly gave it to him, taking his back in return. In the next instant he felt her tightening around him, her body pulsing as it demanded everything from him. He struggled to resist, but it was too late, and her body too insistent. Nicholas broke off the kiss and cried out her name, certain he might expire from the pleasure sweeping through him.

  They both gasped for several moments, attempting to regain their normal breathing pattern, holding each other tightly at the same time. He should apologize for his rough treatment of her. Yet she had enjoyed it. He was certain of it. Still, he tended to forget she had not experienced such things—

  Juliana sighed with contentment and then placed a sweet kiss on his lips. “I am glad I let you choose today’s adventure, Nicholas. This definitely outshines our quest for the perfect yule log.”

  He tilted his head back and laughed, his heart swelling with more happiness than he had ever known, or believed possible.

  Chapter Eleven

  Juliana turned onto her side, unable to hide her happiness. When had she ever laughed or smiled so much? It had been years, and it was all thanks to this man lying beside her, who willingly demonstrated his prowess on a constant basis. They had barely descended from the tower when they had decided to stop, for a brief rest, in her bedchamber.

  They had had no time for rest, brief or otherwise. In truth, the mere thought of what they had done in the tower, exposed to the elements, excited her tremendously. It also made her wonder where else they might enjoy their wicked brand of entertainment. They would run out of days long before they utilized all of the rooms in her home.

  And she had yet to wake in the morning with him sleeping soundly next to her. She had some plans for accomplishing that, so long as she did not lose her nerve. Her face heated instantly. Yes, she would have to be quite bold indeed.

  Nicholas smoothed his thumb across her cheekbone, as if intrigued by the color she knew her wanton musings had produced. His lips lifted in the most devilish grin.

  “What is so amusing?” she asked.

  “The first night I saw you, at Lady Radwell’s ball, I told my friend Martin we would not suit.”

  She nudged him playfully. “Why would you say such a thing? We suit quite well.”

  “I agree, but I did not realize that until after you asked me to be your lover.”

  She frowned. “When you said we would not suit.”

  “Not in so many words,” he protested.

  “True. You said instead that you found me too desirable. I had never heard such a thing. Is it really true? I thought it was merely your polite way of refusing me.”

  “There was nothing polite about it,” he said with a laugh. “Etiquette does not permit anyone to even utter the word desirable. Especially not in the midst of a well-attended event.” He gave her lips a lingering kiss. “But it was true. It still is. I have never known a woman as desirable as you are.”

  Juliana’s heart fluttered at his words, even while she told herself it was likely typical lovers’ talk. “I told my friend Madeleine after the ball that I had changed my mind about having an affair with you.”

  He gave her a mock pout. “What was your reason?”

  “Does it matter?” She turned away, but he merely pulled her into his arms, snuggling her from behind. “Because I obviously changed my mind again.”

  “Yes, it matters.” He buried his face in her hair. “I want to know what made you refuse, and then what made you come to your senses.”

  She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”

  “It is one of my better qualities. Or perhaps it is my only quality.”

  “Though you have many desirable qualities,” she said in a prim voice, “I will not list them, for you are much too sure of yourself as it is.”

  His laughter rumbled through his chest. “You are the only person I have ever encountered who has left me gaping, open-mouthed, in the middle of a crowded ballroom. Not once, but twice. And in the very same evening. I can hardly describe that as ‘too sure of myself’.”

  “Really?” She tried to turn her head to look at him, but he nuzzled her neck, giving her shoulder a little bite. “No one has ever done that before?”

  “Never. And you have yet to confess what you told Madeleine.” She wriggled closer to him. “Do not think that will distract me. Actually, it will, so hurry along with your tale of why you decided you could not have this affair with me.”

  She hesitated. “I am not sure I wish to confess something so intimate—”

  “Madam, you are completely naked in my arms. I am certain you can tell me of a conversation you had with your friend.”

  Juliana giggled at his mock outrage. Her heart also did an odd little gambol at how she had nearly missed out on this entire experience, a blend of passion and playfulness she definitely wanted more of.

  “It was after you had declared, during our dance, that I would never want another lover, after being with you for twelve days.” She cleared her throat. “I told her I was not certain I could endure something that was bound to be too pleasurable.”

  “Hmm,” he said, his voice sounding inordinately satisfied. “You are too desirable, and I am too pleasurable. I would say we do suit rather well.”

  This time she did turn in his arms, needing to see his expression. It did her little good, though, since she had no experience interpreting a naked man’s words. Especially this one who was perilously close to stealing her heart.

  She gave him a heartfelt kiss, and then tossed her hair over her shoulder, deliberately displaying her naked body to his very appreciative eyes. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation at a later time.”

  His eyes gleamed with unmistakable interest. “Conversation?” he murmured, tumbling her back against the pillows. “I cannot seem to recall any conversation…”

  ~ * ~

  “Juliana, what are you doing?”

  She grinned, but did her best to hide it against Nicholas’s bare chest. “I am surprised you do not recognize what I am doing. I did this very same thing earlier.”

  She moved her hand up and down, slowly, in the exact same fashion that had elicited such delicious moans from him several hours ago.

  “You know what I mean, minx. I endeavored, several times, to put you to sleep, but instead you are wide awake.”

  She tossed the counterpane aside, wanting to see every bit of Nicholas. “I am not at all ready for a blissful sleep. In truth, I thought to provide you with the same gift.”

  She did not want to admit she hoped it would keep him in her bed. If he fell asleep first, then he might not remove himself to his bedchamber. She had not minded at first when he had left each night. She had accepted that it was how affairs were conducted.

  But now, the more time they spent with each other, in bed and out of it…

  Juliana tightened her fingers around him, stroking more deliberately. “You are certain you are not feeling the slightest hint of sleepiness?”

  His chest rumbled with appreciative laughter. “Not a whit. Nor am I feeling even the slightest wish to halt your delightful efforts.”

  Juliana found herself endlessly fascinated with Nicholas’s responses. She adored how he inhaled raggedly each time her hand slid over his hard length, and how he tried, but failed, to keep his composure when her mouth tried to take in nearly every inch of him. His eyes glittered as he watched, holding her hair to the side to keep from obstructing his view.

  She had discovered how much she loved giving him plenty to gaze upon. She had even enlisted the assistance of the cheval mirror, placing it so it afforded spectacular views from yet anothe
r angle.

  Her heart raced at how daring she had become. She was not sure how she would bear it when they reached the end of their holiday liaison. It approached too quickly as it was, the days speeding by mercilessly.

  “Juliana,” he murmured. He gripped her hair a little more tightly. “You cannot know how exquisite this is—no, no. I cannot. Not like this.”

  In the next instant, Juliana was on her back, with Nicholas inside of her. She could see him attempting to regain control, moving more slowly, giving her a chance to catch up with him. But she was intent on his pleasure, not hers. He had given her so much already. She had a lifetime of memories from this short time with him. She could only hope to leave him with a few.

  He slowed down until she thought he might stop. “Nicholas. I beg of you…”

  His lips lifted up in a grin that could only be described as wicked. “What is it you want, Juliana?”

  She shook her head, and he instantly pulled away. Juliana grasped his back, tugging at him, her movements bordering on desperate. He moved forward slowly, deliberately drawing out her pleasure, his eyes on hers the entire time.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “You,” she said on a sigh, unable to dissemble, or tease, or do anything but blurt the truth. “I want you.”

  He paused, and Juliana felt a moment’s confusion. Had her words been a mistake? Had she just ruined the easygoing aspect of their affair? She started to explain, to turn her words into a jest, but then Nicholas recommenced his slow, deliberate movements, his expression more intent this time. He gathered her into his arms, his face pressed into her neck while he did everything he could to drive her wild with passion. It wasn’t long before they were both moaning, and then gasping, and flying off into ecstasy.

  He finally dropped to her side, and tucked her under his arm. She pressed a kiss to his chest, inhaling his scent, treasuring the feel of his rapid heartbeat.

  “Nicholas.”

  “Yes?” he answered, his lips against her temple.