Emily glanced up at him, her gaze meeting the earl’s mesmerizing eyes and chiseled features, captured by a sharp stab of sweet awareness. She loved him…if only she were certain he felt the same way.
Strolling along beside the stream, chatting animatedly about his home and his early life, Leathem seemed an utterly different man from the peer she met in London. Or even in Surrey or Tunbridge Wells. He seemed younger, looked more relaxed, and smiled often.
“There was a stream very much like this where I grew up,” Emily said, sadly remembering the boy who drowned in it when fishing. She tried to dismiss that recollection because it also reminded her of her uncle. She didn’t want to think about Eustace ever again. “I’m not sure,” she said, “if there were many fish in that stream, but I suppose there had to be.”
Leathem was especially charming and talkative today, so Emily continued to ply him with questions, leading him on to tell her more about himself. He answered with unusual candor, regaling her with stories about his youth and upbringing. He mentioned his fondness for sporting events, the elaborate galas held at Four Towers by his parents, and of course, London’s Seasons and their’ festivities that he attended before and after his widowerhood. Listening to him, Emily’s innards cramped. She realized how much she would regret if she never saw him again. He had opened himself up to her today, more than ever before, while her love for him had deepened, flaming higher than anything she felt for him. Alone with him, listening to him talk, remembering when and how he had kissed and caressed her, haunted her. Pressure was again upon her to agree to their bargain marriage.
Gavin pressed her open palm onto his forearm. “Did you like what I’ve shown you today, Emily?”
“What is there not to like, Leathem?” She beamed up at him. “Your estate is beautiful.” Emily withdrew her hand from his arm and leaned back against a sturdy maple. Slowly she untied the satin ribbons holding her bonnet on. With a girlish, unconscious gesture, her tresses escaped their ribbon. Perfume, flowery shampoo, and female essence wafted to Gavin’s nostrils on the light breeze.
“If it were up to me, I would never stay in London any longer than necessary,” she stated, firmly. “Or perhaps to visit friends. Instead, I would rather live at a place like Four Towers or a cozy spot that nestled amongst open spaces, but with lots of trees I could see from my windows.”
Was she hinting?
Leathem leaned close but she suddenly jerked away from the tree trunk. “Oh, Leathem, will you look at that?”
She had a charming giggle. He loved hearing it.
Emily pointed to a green frog sunning himself on the stream’s bank. Twisting to look over her shoulder, she asked Gavin with a soft chortle, “D’you s’pose that slick little fellow might turn into a prince if I kissed him?”
Gavin responded with a grave smile. “No, I doubt it.” His expression was sober as he slowly pulled one of her gloves off, letting it fall to the ground. He smoothed her slender fingers with his, caressing them with long strokes before touching the tip of his tongue to her palm and pressing an unexpected and fervent kiss in the center.
Queer shivers curled up Emily’s arm. Gavin’s mouth was hot and wet on her skin. Meeting her gaze, his coffee-colored eyes bonded with hers, intimately, and very, very wickedly.
“Are you hoping for a prince, Emily?” he asked, his deep baritone rough with a different feeling in it, his piercing gaze tied to her face. “Or would a mere earl do?”
Emily suddenly slid her hand from his and threw both of them around Gavin’s neck, kissing him full on the lips.
“God help me, Emily,” Gavin gasped, surprised by her unusual forwardness. He wrapped his strong arms tight around her, pulling her against his roused erection, showing her candidly of his desire for her. “Sweeting, do you know what you do to me?”
“Oh my…” Emily sputtered as a loss of words shut her down.
"Let’s go back to the blanket,” Gavin muttered. Moving quickly, he led her to it. After they settled on the ground cloth, Gavin uncorked a bottle of wine and poured them each a glassful. Hastily, he gulped down his and stared over at the fast-moving stream. “Damnation, Emily!” He quickly leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
He startled her, but she yearned to be kissed more thoroughly. Leathem’s charm, his masculine allure, his earlier devastating kisses had sizzled through her blood like wildfire. She knew she may lose her wits, just like those moments ago at the maple tree. There she had been as brazen as any country hoyden after he licked her palm.
She whispered low, “Just now, Leathem…you only kissed my cheek. Why?”
“I wanted to do more, but…” He dragged out the words, and pulled back before lowering his mouth to hers again, as close as a breath.
Emily’s eyelids drooped when she pressed her mouth against his and kissed him back. Gavin responded eagerly. Their kiss deepened. His arms whipped around Emily, locking her against him. She sank easily into his embrace. His kisses stole her breath. Her senses were reeling, searing her nerve endings with renewed desire. When Leathem lifted his head and broke away from her, Emily saw the same heated desire flaming in the large pupils of his eyes, dragging her back into dazzled incoherency.
Gavin ran knowing hands over Emily, urging her backward to the spongy ground beneath the ground cloth. Her plush breasts crushed against his chest. His erection poked at her belly.
Knowledge sent quivers of anticipation lancing through Emily. Heat pooled low in her torso. Her core throbbed, ached, needing to know what it felt like with him inside her—to experience love in its most intimate form. Broad palms fondled her breasts. And then the earl was kissing her again, taking his time, his kisses more devastating, more passionate, and arousing her desire for more.
“Unh…” Emily swallowed. Leathem was heavy lying half atop her. “Lea-them, what are you doing? “Seducing you, at last, my dear.” His calm response answered her question. “Shall I stop?”
If she stopped him—told him to stop—and she knew he would, she would never know what it was to make love with a man she cared for so deeply and admired so tremendously. She might never feel love again, not like this. Leathem was her forever-after hero. If she left Four Towers, nothing would be the same without him. It had been so easy to leave Tony Kendall and excise him from her thoughts.
When Emily didn’t reply, Gavin released a deep sigh and said, “I should have known I’d be in deep trouble the moment you walked into Fielding House. But allow me to explain things, dearling. And please listen closely.” Gavin peered into her eyes. “I knew nothing about true love at age twenty. Nor was I taught how to go about in a marriage and how to make it work.” His lips curved into a wry smile. “That was ages ago. I’ll soon be forty. And I hope I finally know how a good marriage should work.” Gavin dipped his head and took Emily’s mouth in another flaming kiss—sensuously and achingly sweet. He whispered, “Am I succeeding in seducing you yet, Emily, my dear?”
“Uhh…I think so, my lord,” Emily murmured, her voice low, her words brazen. “But I must tell you something else right now. You are crushing me so hard I can scarcely breathe.”
To her surprise, Gavin sat up, and struggled out of his jacket.
Emily waited.
Not planning this but Gavin couldn’t dismiss a golden opportunity when it arose. Why not make the most of it? Why not take Emily’s innocence here and now and make her his? He’d be foolish not to claim what was readily at hand. His eyes gleamed black as pitch; his next kiss was dark and powerfully possessive. A claiming.
“I knew I couldn’t let you go,” he whispered hotly against her mouth.
“I-I don’t want to go, but—”
Desperation flooded through Emily. She forgot her proper English upbringing, the ladylike behavior and mannerly reticence bred into her that her mother taught her. Instead, she hurled her young, aching heart at Gavin. She loved him. He was years older and worldly-wise, but she never thought of him as anythi
ng but kind and wonderful after she knew him better. Her breath hitched, a tiny sob escaping from her tight throat. She didn’t wish to live alone; she didn’t want to leave the man she loved.
“Oh, Gavin…” She groaned, exhorting him to do something about it.
Leathem tried to hold back but her response had undone him. He was no longer the honorable suitor who would only touch gently and kiss chastely. His powerful need for Emily grew out of hand after suffering that last long drive from Oxfordshire to Four Towers in which he avoided her company.
“Yes,” he breathed heavily. “Yes, dammit, I want you, Emily. I need you. Fool that I am, I think I wanted you the day we met.”
Gavin fumbled to undo the buttons down the front of Emily’s garment, easing it off her shoulders. Pushing the neckline of her blouse low, he exposed her chemise. His hands were adept but possessive, as if she belonged to him already. Caressing her, her pouting nipples molded against his palms.
Pleasure rose fast and sweet inside Emily when Gavin nuzzled her and took a nipple in his mouth, suckling it through the fabric of her chemise. “Ahh…” Emily moaned low, enjoying the delicious quivers Leathem sent through her. Exciting sensations. Her breathing escalated with each potent suck of his hot lips, every scalding lick of his tongue. When he gently bit down on a nub with the edges of his teeth, a jolt arced between her thighs. He pressed a tender kiss atop her breast afterward in case he bit too hard.
Emily hoped to experience passion of the sort that Wilma enjoyed with Lord Harry. She never expected it would happen with Leathem. Now she waited on tenterhooks, waiting for him to show her what Wilma only hinted at. Tremors rippled across her skin, piling atop one another.
Gavin removed his cravat and tugged his shirt off, and now he had removed half of Emily’s clothes, and shafts of warm afternoon sunlight now highlighted her breasts through leafy gaps between the maples. Emily’s nipples gleamed rosy and prominent, drenched by Leathem’s saliva. “God, Emily, please let me—!”
A feral groan escaped from deep in his chest. “Ohh, yes…”
Emily reached up and touched her lips to his ear, to his neck, and licked one bare shoulder.
“Don’t stop, sweetheart!” Leathem exulted. “Touch me where and when you want. Kiss me anyplace, too. I want you to!”
Hands trembled as Emily’s fingers smoothed over Gavin’s naked skin, a broad, muscular torso—warm, resilient flesh, not soft and squishy like hers, but powerful and hard—like nothing she ever touched before. Pleasure heated her cheeks. She kissed his chest, nuzzling her nose in the dark, curly hairs sprouting there and got a whiff of male sweat and spicy cologne. A flat nipple hardened when she licked it with her tongue. His reacted the same way hers did. Wasn’t that interesting?
*
Gavin jerked when she took his nipple into her mouth. “God help me, Emily! Stop that or I’ll be no good for anything else!”
His rampant erection now poked at the soft leather of his breeches. He struggled to hold off his release. He had to go slow and pleasure Emily first so she came. Then perhaps she could accept his enlarged cock with only minor pain. His penis was a good-size, thick and hard, and she was a virgin. Dammit! He dare not botch Emily’s first carnal experience because she made him as randy as a green beginner!
Gavin swooped a wet tongue across her stomach, inching the hem of her gown and petticoats higher. At first she had pushed his hand away when he pried her thighs wide. “No.” Gavin scolded her gently against the smooth skin of her belly. “Let me love you, Emmie. Let me pleasure you, my dear. I promise to go slow.”
Emily mumbled her acceptance after hearing his promise.
He stuck the tip of his tongue into her navel and swirled it inside.
Soon nothing existed but Gavin’s hands and mouth. A long, blunt finger pushed through the dark pubic curls drenched by her arousal, as he probed between her spread limbs.
Finally, she’s wet and ready.
Gavin stroked over the small flange of swollen flesh, his knowing fingers tantalizing, caressing. Teasing. Circling it as it swells. He knew he couldn’t prolong this or he’d come in his breeches. So he wiggled two fingers inside the spot behind her sex organ. His thumb massaged the hard pearl again while he pushed deeper inside her slick vagina. He stroked in and out, maintaining a perfect rhythm.
Emily clamped her eyelids shut. She waited in anticipation for something she never knew existed. She opened and closed her fingers with the same rhythm as Gavin’s stroking. She couldn’t stay quiet when new sensations were driving her wild. Nothing ever felt like this. She tossed her head from side to side. She wanted—needed—whatever was just around the bend. She wouldn’t stop Leathem until she found it.
Emily dragged Gavin higher onto her breast. He suckled a breast eagerly, his fingers still stroking the most intimate part of her body. Stimuli taunted her; her body vibrated like a harp’s strings. She panted, then held her breath. Something was happening!
Gavin sucked while deepening his thrusting finger inside her vagina.
Sensations swamped Emily, exploding deep and fast after what started as a kiss beneath the maple tree. She thought she would break apart into a thousand pieces. Unforgettable pleasure spiraled through her—a turbulent river of new sensations. Her body convulsed, alive with tremors. Again and again, ripples streaked along her nerves as she climaxed. Residual, pleasurable twitches continued, until finally, completion poured through her. She felt as limp as a flower bud someone forgot to water it. Emily lay quietly on the ground cloth, without enough strength to move. She was amazed how wonderfully delicious and satisfied she felt.
Emily opened her eyes slowly, exhaled, then sighed, while gazing up at Leathem. He lay atop her, his hips wedged between her spread thighs. Hunger gleamed in those coffee-colored eyes as he stared down at her. He gave Emily a moment’s respite from her orgasm, but she sensed he needed something, too.
Gavin rose up and took his thick erection in his hand, rubbing its satiny head against her wet sex. “Relax, sweeting,” he soothed, his words soft and coaxing. “What I do next will only hurt for a moment.”
Emily braced herself as he pressed his man part inside her, inch by inch, slowly but surely penetrating her until his rigid phallus filled her rather uncomfortably. Her breathing hitched; she whimpered a little. But Leathem had persisted, expertly guiding his penis inside, Pain had shocked her with a single powerful thrust. She gasped out, but by then, he was fully seated inside her.
She knew only a part of what to expect after speaking with Wilma. She winced. It hurt initially, but now that her body accepted Gavin’s male part, it didn’t feel too bad.
Gavin exhaled after he penetrated her vagina. He now whispered reassurances and praise against Emily’s cheek, but he didn’t stroke her yet. “There’s more pleasure to come,” he promised, his warm breath tickling her skin.
“Then show me, Leathem,” she whispered back.
Gavin raised Emily’s buttocks off the blanket, locating her pleasure spot again. None of this was new to him. Twenty years ago, when he was a randy young man, he enjoyed plenty of sexual experiences under his breeches’ flap, but even during his wedding night, he sometimes wondered if he had been the virgin instead of his bride. Unforgettable and unhappy memories of his marriage, still galled him. Although it should be water under the bridge after two decades, he still tried to erase them from his memory bank. He had lain with reams of willing bed partners during those intervening years. But he never before seduced a virgin; he, copulated only with willing wives, sex hungry widows, or well-paid whores and courtesans.
Gavin now stroked inside Emily. Gently. Unhurriedly. His accurate thrusts and undulating rhythm massaged Emily’s pleasure spot. He went slow, as not to frighten her. He would love her again when she knew more. He’d teach her what married intercourse truly felt like—to be enjoyed wholeheartedly between uninhibited, consenting lovers.
Emily squealed unexpectedly when a new sensat
ions caught her unaware. After a few more quick, deep strokes of Leathem’s thrusting cock, another climax exploded through her—flashes of light erupted behind her eyelids against a background of midnight velvet. Her quivering body floated unimpeded across a pulsing universe. She lost her grip on reality when her vagina convulsed.
Emily’s climax milked Gavin’s cock. His hips jerked spastically, his seed gushing in a rapid stream into her womb. He sank deep into her, groaning with an overdue release until he felt as weak as a babe. He collapsed on top of Emily, panting rapidly as if he had run a mile uphill.
They both were breathless.
He had fucked her, and she was his. Nothing could change that.
Struggling to sit up, Gavin whispered, “Sweeting, are you all right? I tried not to hurt you.”
Her eyes open, she smiled dreamingly up at him. “Unh, you didn’t hurt me, Gavin. Not really.”
“Thank God! It’s the last thing I wanted to happen. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Umm hmm.” She blinked her lids hazily. “But do you mind if I lie here for a little while?”
He drew in a rough breath. Satisfaction glowed inside him. For almost two decades, he never felt such deep sexual contentment. He had to make certain there would be more times like this when they were married.
“I’ll help you back on with your clothes, sweetheart. Then if you’re sleepy, you can take a nap.”
“Yes. Please.”
Leathem adjusted her clothing. He pulled on his shirt, waistcoat, and jacket and lay down next to her, drawing her into his embrace. “I want you to know that my bargain wasn’t made simply because of Lilianne,” he said quietly, staring up at the cloudless, blue sky through the swaying maple leaves. Making love prods one to confess, whether in the dark, or under an umbrella of towering branches, but Gavin murmured things he never expected to utter.
“I was a crass coward to give up on romance and marriage all those years ago. I wish…I need…to marry again. I learned that much just recently—but only marriage with you, Emily. Now that we made love, I can’t wait for you to stay with me. Forever. Don’t think of reasons not to marry me, darling girl, but, instead, just say you’ll accept my proposal.”
The Marriage Bargain Page 32
