Lady Be Reckless

by Megan Frampton

  It must be because it was he. Entirely due to him.

  “Now that you are naked to my satisfaction,” he said, “let us resume.”

  “I want you to ruin me,” she said. “If I am totally and completely ruined, I won’t have to marry anybody but you.”

  “So it’s my duty to ruin you?” he said, raising his eyebrow.

  “Absolutely,” she said, taking his cock in her hand again.

  “Well, I suppose this proposal is more enticing than the last one,” he replied, his eyes traveling lazily down her body, making her acutely conscious of how exposed she was.

  “You’re lovely,” he said in a low voice, his fingers caressing her breast. He rubbed her nipple, then leaned forward and took it in his mouth, making her gasp.

  His other hand had returned to her daisy, and was stroking her, building a heat within that was making her squirm.

  His tongue swirled on her skin, and she felt the familiar tension—familiar because he’d done whatever magic he’d done only the previous day—rise, the feeling building and building until she—

  “Don’t come yet,” he muttered, raising his head from her breast. He edged down her body, kissing her belly, lower. She held her breath, wondering if . . .

  “Oh my God,” she said as he buried his mouth on her there. Licking her with his tongue as his fingers continued to move, the sensation as intense and fierce as anything she’d ever felt before.

  It was decadent, and so erotic, and she gripped her hands in his hair, moving her head on his pillow, biting her lip as the tension increased.

  Until—“Aah,” she cried out, arching her back as the feeling washed over her.

  “That’s what I wanted to see again. Your orgasm.” He drew up beside her to kiss her. She could taste herself on his mouth.

  “That was—that was,” she said, not able to finish.

  He chuckled, then took her hand and put it back on his cock. It was hard and throbbing, and she swallowed nervously as she thought about what was next.

  “Relax,” he said, shifting so she could feel him there, right at her entrance. Her daisy. “You’re all ready for me, and I’ll stop if it hurts.”

  “I love you,” she said, twisting so she was lying back on the bed.

  “I love you too,” he said, starting to guide himself into her.

  Edward hadn’t expected to end the evening with this—a naked Olivia in his bed asking him to ruin her—but he wasn’t going to deny it was the best evening of his life.

  Tomorrow they’d deal with the messy repercussions, but for right now it was just them.

  She was wet, but still tight, and he went slowly, gritting his teeth as he moved.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, hearing how strained his voice was.

  “Mmm,” she said, her eyes wide. “I want this. I want you.”

  And then he slid all the way inside, grunting as his hips pressed against hers.

  “Oh my.” She sounded breathless, and intrigued. Her hands went to his arse and gripped him as he started to move.

  He pushed up on his elbows so he could look down at her face as he thrust, his rhythm increasing as the orgasm built.

  She kept her eyes open, her gaze steady on him, and he felt the swell of his heart as he watched her expression.

  He was so close, so close, and he kept increasing his speed, pushing in and out of her, hearing the slap of their flesh with each thrust.

  Until he felt the moment peak, and he climaxed with a roar as he stiffened, the rush of it flooding his body with sharp satisfaction.

  He collapsed on top of her, and he felt her laugh as he buried his nose in her neck.

  “You have most definitely ruined me, Mr. Wolcott,” she said in an amused tone. “I should leave, though. I don’t want to—” And then she began to laugh again.

  “Cause a scandal?” he finished. “Because that is the whole point of this, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, bumping his head with her chin, and he laughed, feeling as relaxed and comfortable as he’d ever felt.

  He didn’t feel as though he didn’t belong. He definitely belonged here, with her, and it didn’t matter who he was or what people thought of him. It only mattered what she thought of him, and she loved him.

  That was more than enough.

  He rolled off her, startling Scamp who’d climbed up on the bed. She leapt back down with a yowl, and Edward drew the covers up, urging Olivia to get underneath, then scooting beside her and tucking the covers around both of them.

  “You can leave early in the morning,” he said. “Nobody will be up to see you, and then we can both be presentable when you announce your intention of marrying me.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she replied in a sleepy voice. She curled against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her, feeling her warm, soft curves pressed into his body.

  Chapter 25

  Stand up for yourself and what you want.

  Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Being Reckless

  “Olivia.”

  Olivia scrunched her nose and swatted at the person saying her name.

  Only—“Oh!” she said, scrambling quickly to sit up, meaning that she ended up bashing Edward in the nose with her head.

  “Ouch, woman,” he growled, grinning at her as he touched his nose.

  “Sorry, I just—”

  “You’re not accustomed to waking up beside anybody,” he said, pushing her hair away from her face. He leaned forward and kissed her, a warm, soft kiss that made her feel as though she were melting from the deliciousness of it.

  “But you should get back to your room—your maid will be in to wake you soon.”

  Olivia glanced around the room, finally spotting a clock set on the table on the other side of the bed.

  She hadn’t taken a good look at the room the previous night; she’d been too focused on him, but now she could see it was a large, comfortable room, with only a few items placed on the bureau and tabletops. It was a room designed for relaxation, not work. Designed for other things, also, as she could tell from the size of the bed, which was huge.

  It was a room she could see herself being in, living in, being comfortable in.

  But only if she were able to fix all the mess she was currently in.

  She scooted over to the side of the bed and dropped her feet down onto the plush carpet, blushing as she glanced down at her nakedness.

  “Uh,” she began, looking over her shoulder at him. He had lain back down, the sheets tangled around his waist, his chest on delicious display, making her want to dive back into bed with him and do more exploring.

  “What is it?” he asked, arching a brow. As though he knew just what she was thinking and he was thinking the same thing.

  “I need my clothes,” she replied, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t get distracted. Wondering how the stubble on his cheeks would feel on her skin.

  Well, so much for not being distracted. With her eyes closed, she could picture just what it would look like if she stretched her hand out and put her palm on his abdomen, rubbing his chest with her fingers, sliding down until she—

  “Here,” he said, and she felt a plop of fabric land on her lap. Her eyes flew open, and she saw her night rail, which was twisted inside out. She put it the right way again and put it on, standing up to let the fabric shimmy down her legs.

  “If I had my way,” he said in a low, smoky voice that made her shiver, “I’d just keep you here and pleasure you until your screams woke the house. Then we wouldn’t have to announce anything at all.”

  She felt a shiver run through her. It was a tempting idea.

  “I think we should do the proper thing first,” she said in a prim tone. Keenly aware of all his bare skin behind her.

  “Fine. We’ll try your tactic,” he said, and she heard him shift on the bed. “But if that doesn’t work, I’m tossing you over my shoulder and taking you back here to ravish you.”

  “It’s a bargain,” she said in a l
aughing tone.

  She’d never expected all of this to be so much fun.

  Chapter 26

  Oh my goodness, that was fun. I cannot wait to do it again.

  Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Being Reckless

  He didn’t have a ring. He should get a ring, to make certain she would marry him.

  She’d said she would, but there was something enticing about having a physical claim on her, making sure everyone who saw her knew.

  If he told her that’s why he wanted her to wear one, he knew she would upbraid him for his old-fashioned notions. Which was why he needed to make certain he bought such a lovely ring that she didn’t think too hard about it.

  “Doughty?” Edward said, leaning back in his chair. The butler moved forward, inclining his head.

  “What may I help you with, sir?”

  Edward looked up. “Where would I buy a piece of jewelry? Is there somewhere nearby?” He’d been to the town—the one that had not wanted Olivia’s help—often enough, and he knew there wasn’t a jeweler there. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too far.

  “There is one in Ackleworth, about ten miles from here.”

  Ackleworth. That was where his father had first met his mother. He generally avoided going there, since his grandfather’s house was on the town’s outskirts. But if he could just go in, find the jeweler and then get right out, it would be fine. He needed a ring more than he needed to avoid a town with bad memories.

  He took another sip of coffee, pleased to find it had cooled enough. Hopefully that was a sign that he would be able to wait. Wait for the coffee to cool. Buy the ring.

  Marry the woman he loved. Who loved him.

  Edward settled Chrysanthemum at the stables, and then walked quickly into the center of town.

  It was far larger than what he was used to, at least out in the country. There were signs of bustling commerce everywhere, from pubs and inns to a milliner’s shop, a fabric store, and no fewer than three haberdasheries.

  The jeweler was next to the fabric shop, one of the ones his father’s mills sold to. He was pleased to see a steady stream of customers going in and out, which he could report back to his father. The mill had been one of his father’s first successes, and Mr. Beechcroft still viewed it as one of his favorite business transactions.

  Edward stepped into the jeweler’s, hoping the shop would have what he wanted—a ring that was as brilliant and sparkling as Olivia, but not too opulent. She wouldn’t want a crass display like other ladies in Society. He wasn’t certain whether or not such a ring existed, but he was going to try.

  “Good morning, sir, welcome to Fotheringay’s,” an older man with grey hair said as Edward advanced. There were three sections of jewelry on display, one to either side of him and one in front. Sconces were above each, lighting the cases and making the stones within gleam.

  Edward blinked against the sudden brightness, taking his hat off and walking up to the counter. “I am looking for a ring,” he said, beginning to peruse the case in front of him.

  Rings of all sorts were exhibited in the case, as were bracelets, necklaces, and tiaras.

  What would it look like if she were to wear only a tiara?

  He couldn’t get distracted. He was here for a ring, not for something to fuel his fantasies. Perhaps after she said yes they could go tiara shopping.

  “What type of ring?” the man said, beginning to remove trays from the case and laying them on the counter.

  “A betrothal ring.” Edward lowered his head to look at the rings—there were many, ranging from simple love knots to rings with a variety of stones.

  He picked up one of the simplest ones; would she like this? Would it speak to her need for equality?

  He put it down, picking up another in the case, this one more elaborate, with five stones placed in a line.

  “That is the ADORE ring,” the man said.

  “Adore?”

  The man nodded. “Yes, the five stones,” he said, pointing to the ring, “each indicate a letter. So we have an amethyst, a diamond, an opal, a ruby, and an emerald. Adore.”

  “Ah.” It was unfortunate that there wasn’t a ring spelling out Equality or Righteousness or even Equality for All Ducks.

  But anything like that would require a special order, and he didn’t want to waste time. Plus he had to admit all his ideas sounded silly.

  “I’ll take it,” he said, drawing his wallet out from his jacket.

  The man nodded, writing up a receipt and placing the ring in a box.

  Edward heard the door open as he was tucking the box into his pocket.

  “Welcome, Mr. Wolcott,” the jeweler said, making Edward stiffen.

  “Morning, Fotheringay,” a brusque voice replied. Edward turned around slowly, feeling his chest tighten as his eyes came to rest on the man who’d spoken.

  An older man with curly white hair, who was tall and still fit, despite his age, a sharply inquisitive expression on his face.

  He looked as Edward would look in about thirty years.

  “You’re my grandfather,” Edward blurted out, almost before he knew what he was going to do.

  The man merely raised an eyebrow at him, a look of haughty disdain on his face.

  “You must be mistaken,” he said, but his expression flickered, as though he knew the truth but wouldn’t admit it.

  “I’m not.” Edward glanced back to see the jeweler’s avidly curious face. “We could continue this conversation here, or we could step outside for a moment.”

  Mr. Wolcott tilted his head to look over Edward’s shoulder, his mouth tightening as he saw the merchant. “Mmm,” he grunted, turning back around and walking out.

  Edward followed, fury warring with sorrow in his chest. He hadn’t realized how much it still hurt, knowing what he did about his past. Knowing that this man had refused to support him, that he had preferred to put a child into an orphanage rather than acknowledge that his daughter had fallen in love.

  “You’re Beechcroft’s son?” Mr. Wolcott said, looking him up and down. “You seem to have turned out well. Quite the gentleman.”

  “No thanks to you,” Edward replied, the fury winning out over whatever sadness he held. “My father took me when you wouldn’t after my mother died. Have you never wondered about me?”

  Mr. Wolcott shrugged. “I heard that you were being taken care of. I saw no need to interfere.”

  His grandfather’s utter lack of interest, even now, infuriated him.

  “No need to interfere?” Edward said, hearing the growl in his voice. “If it had been left to you, I would have been raised without any love, no support, nothing.” He shouldn’t have been surprised to feel himself shaking.

  “You’re a bastard,” Mr. Wolcott said in a cold tone. “You have no claim on me.”

  Edward felt the man’s words like a punch in the throat. And then something else eased his anger, making the clarity of the truth stand out as if it were written on his grandfather’s forehead.

  “I don’t want to have a claim on you,” he said in a clear, calm voice. Even though there was a part of him that wanted to rail at the other man for denying them the opportunity to have a relationship because of the lack of a piece of paper. “But I do want you to know what you’ve missed.” It felt as though she were there, behind him, urging him on with her words and her fierce passion and her love.

  “Growing up, I knew that I was different from other children. But I wondered sometimes if that was because my father loved me so much. I felt sorry for other children I met, because their fathers weren’t mine. My father is the most honorable and strongest man I know, and I am the man I am today because of him. I never knew my mother, but I knew of her because my father spoke of her, told me how much she loved me.”

  “You caused her death.” Mr. Wolcott spoke through a clenched jaw.

  Edward shook his head slowly. “I know that her passing must have caused you great sorrow. But that is no reason to abandon a child of your bl
ood who needed you. You are the one who has lost. I am fortunate that I have a father who cares for me and friends who appreciate who I am, not what I am. I wish you could have been the same, but I know you can’t.”

  Mr. Wolcott didn’t reply, just stared at Edward, his expression set and angry. Fine. Edward didn’t feel angry toward his grandfather anymore; he knew who he was, and he knew he was loved. By his father, by Bennett, and now by her.

  He was legitimately—and he nearly chuckled aloud at the thought—rich with love.

  “That is all I wanted to say to you.” Edward turned on his heel and walked to the stable, aware of the ring in his pocket and the lightness in his heart.

  He was wealthy in all the things that mattered. And now he knew it and valued himself as well.

  Chapter 27

  Explain yourself.

  Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Being Reckless

  Olivia, feeling pleasantly sore, smiled to herself as her maid got her dressed.

  As Edward had predicted, nobody had seen her leave his room and return to her own, and she’d been able to lie in bed for a while, recalling everything that had happened the night before.

  Making her blush, but mostly making her happy.

  He loved her.

  But there were a few things she had to do before she achieved her unexpected Happily Ever After.

  “That will be all,” she said to her maid, who nodded and left the room.

  Olivia stood in front of the mirror, noting that she didn’t look any different from the day before. She was properly attired for one of the duke’s daughters—she was wearing a modest gown that likely cost as much as feeding the society’s entire community for a month, and she did not look like a woman who’d boldly gone into a man’s room and told him she loved him.

  Appearances could be deceiving.

  She smiled and left the room, descending the staircase quickly.

  “Pardon me,” she said to one of the footmen standing in the hallway, “do you know where Lord Carson is?”