Far Beyond Scandalous

by Bethany Sefchick

  "Now," he continued silkily, the tip of his tongue sliding along his upper lip, making Amy's heart pound and her mind go blank, "I will tell you that I long to feel your body against mine. I yearn to taste your sweet lips and sample the delights of you as I did that day." He stroked a thumb along her cheekbone, caressing the soft flesh. "I meant what I said. For me, that day is burned into my mind, and, were it within my power, we would repeat that same seductive dance every night for the rest of our lives. Except that if I had the right to have you in my bed, we would not stop where we did that afternoon."

  "No?" Amy was breathless now, a dampness growing between her legs and a rush of longing bubbling up inside of her. Never had she imagined that Gibson would say such words to her. Such delicious, naughty, seductive words. She might dream of it when she was alone in her bed at night, but she never thought she would witness him actually speaking them.

  A predatory smile graced his full lips, and he backed her against the closed door, a hand on either side of her, holding her prisoner. Not that she had any desire to flee. "No, sweeting. Were I able, I would show you everything, teach you all of the pleasures of the flesh, and explore every inch of your delectable body."

  Gibson knew his words were beyond scandalous, but in that moment, he didn't care. He had been denying his feelings for months, ever since he had departed Seldon Park without telling Amy how deep his feelings for her ran. She might very well toss him out in the next few moments, precisely as he deserved, but for once, he would speak his mind.

  "I would claim you as mine, pet, flaunt the true depth of my desire for you in front of all of society. And at night when we were alone, I would show you how many ways there are to experience pleasure. Repeatedly. For I am a physician, and I know them all. Yet I have not experienced them all. But I want to. With you." Gibson closed his eyes as he imagined just such a scenario. He was hanging on to his control by a thread, and he knew he should leave before he did something he might regret or say something that he could not take back. Yet he could not make his feet move either.

  Against him, Amy whimpered and pressed her body closer to his, his words stirring both her emotions and her passion to new heights. "I want that, too, Gibbs." There was no reason to lie any longer. She had demanded this confession, after all. "More than you can ever know. I want all of it. With you. Only you." Then she pressed her breasts to his chest, needing to feel the sweet pressure that only he could provide her.

  Gibson ran a hand down her back, pulling her so tightly against him that she could now feel the hard press of his erection against her stomach. He was bigger than she remembered, or perhaps time had dimmed her memories of exactly how well-endowed he was. She longed to divest him of his clothes and reacquaint herself with that particular part of his anatomy. Wicked thing that she was.

  As she was imagining all of the delightfully naughty things they could do together, she felt him slump back away from her, though he did not completely relinquish his grasp on her either. "But we both know that I cannot do any of those things, no matter how much I might wish to. It is not my right and never will be. Just saying the words, admitting those wishes out loud is pure torment. I am not a weak man, Amy, and yet you somehow manage to bring me to my knees." He cradled her face gently in his hands, hating himself for what he had to say next. "That is why, despite what I have just said, we must return to the way we have been conducting ourselves the moment we leave this room. I will not ruin you and force you into a marriage that will cost you everything."

  Amy, however, was not about to give up that easily. Not when she was so close to having precisely what she wanted. She had secrets of her own, ones that Gibson knew nothing about, and while this was not the time to speak of them, she wanted him to know that she would not consider being bound to him for the rest of her life a tragedy. She would give up everything - her position in society, her family's wealth, all of it. If only she could just have him.

  She felt the burn of Gibson's body through her thin day dress, and, unable to stop herself, remembered once more the hard planes and contours of his chest. A rush of longing and heat flooded her body, and she knew she was blushing scarlet all over. His attitude towards a relationship between them was different now than she remembered, especially if he thought he could put her off so easily after having just made such a shocking confession. At Seldon Park, he had not particularly seemed to care if anyone discovered them. Then again, neither had she.

  She did not know the reason for the change, other than the difference in their location, and did not care to guess at it. It was another part of the mystery that was Gibson. However, she wasn't about to give up on him. She would win this battle, one way or the other. She would find a way to win his heart.

  He might be willing to walk away from her, but she would not let him go so easily.

  Looking up into his tawny eyes, she longed to be able to claim him in public. Just as he wanted to do to her. But not today, unfortunately.

  For now, a passionate kiss in private would have to do. She would work on his complete submission later.

  Rising up on the tips of her toes, she wreathed her arms around his neck, gratified when he did not immediately push her away. She had made her choice. She wanted him, and she would find a way to have him. Forever, if she could manage it.

  "But in this room, then, it does not matter what society thinks? How lovely!" Without giving him a chance to respond, she brought her lips to his for another kiss, this one full of longing and passion, not a surprised brush of the lips as the one a few nights before had been.

  Gibson knew he should push Amy away. It would be the right thing to do, the proper thing. Yet with the soft press of her lips against his, he knew that he was damned to be anything but proper. When she ground her hips into his, the last of his resolve deserted him. This was the Amy of Seldon Park, and he could no more resist her than he could force his heart to stop beating.

  Just this once, his mind whispered seductively. You know you want to, and you all but have Lady Evanston's blessing.

  In the end, however, it was the soft press of Amy's breasts against his chest and the hard pebbling of her nipples that was his ultimate downfall.

  With a growl, Gibson moved back deeper into the room, seeking the bed he had caught a quick glimpse of when Amy had pushed him inside. Finding it, he sank down into its softness before settling her on his lap so that she might straddle him. She still fit there just as perfectly as she had that day, much to his both delight and shame.

  "I should not be doing this, but God help me, I cannot stop myself," he whispered as he peppered her throat with kisses, nipping at the delicate skin. God, she tasted like perfection, all tart peppermint with a hint of the sweet honey she had made certain was delivered to her mother's room earlier.

  "Yes," she breathed in, snuggling her body against his more closely, spreading her legs as wide as she was able, "you should be. In fact, it would be far better if we were naked in this bed. Together."

  He growled in agreement with that assessment but forced his mouth to say otherwise. "While in theory, I agree with that statement, in practice, that cannot be today. We have been gone quite awhile and risk discovery." At the beginnings of her protest, however, he licked at the hollow of her throat, earning him another whimper of pleasure from her sweet mouth. "That said, I can give you another taste. Like before."

  Amy wanted more than a taste. She wanted everything, all of it. All of him. She wanted the feel of Gibson's massive cock sliding deep inside of her body. She wanted the mark of his kisses upon her breasts, to feel him suckling at her nipples. She wanted each last piece of him, all that he had to give. However, when he swiftly pulled down the bodice of her dress to reveal her breasts, she decided that perhaps a taste was better than nothing. What he was currently offering was certainly better than kissing.

  She tasted as sweet as he remembered. That was the only thought Gibson was capable of as he teased Amy's nipples with his tongue, biting down on them ligh
tly with his teeth before soothing them again with a laving kiss and tracing them with his tongue. No, in some ways, she was better than she had been that day. In the months they had been apart, she had grown into herself, knew better what she wanted, and in this moment, she wanted him. He would not argue with her on that point.

  Shifting her closer so that he could press his shaft into her center, even though the thick layers of their clothing, he wasn't surprised when she made a mewling noise low in her throat and began to rotate her hips against his, mimicking the intimacy she craved. He would not take her here, but he would bring her pleasure. He could no more stop himself than he could cease to be a physician.

  "That's it, my love," he coaxed as she slid her body against his, a keening cry building in her throat. "Come for me. Please let me see you. It has been so long since I have seen that look of passion on your face." He rained down kisses on her face, her lips, her eyes, each brush of his lips over her heated skin the sweetest torture he had ever known. He worked his hands beneath her skirts, dancing his fingers up her thighs until he found the sweet, hot center of her.

  "You're wet," he breathed, amazed that she was still so responsive to him, even after what she had learned of his past the previous night.

  Rising up, Amy nuzzled against him and then seated herself more firmly upon his hand, driving his fingers deep into her center. She groaned and hissed with pleasure as she began to move, her hips thrusting and her body writing against his. "I am always wet when I think of you this way, Gibbs." Her words might shock him, but they were true. She was not nearly as innocent as he assumed.

  At her words, Gibson moved his hand faster, stroking her to completion, his thumb teasing the swollen nub of her womanhood. Her body bucked and shook against his, and he lashed his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling. That would bring the servants running, which was the very last thing he wanted.

  Amy's head was spinning. It felt so very good, every touch Gibson lavished upon her better than the last. She felt her stomach knot, the ball of pressure inside of her growing, pushing higher and higher until she felt as if she was flying. She found her release with a whimpering cry, and a moan mixed with another cry of delight ripped from her, a sound that he swallowed with his kiss. This, her heart whispered, was pure heaven. This was what she desired all the rest of her days.

  However as she looked up into Gibson's almost pained eyes, she knew that despite what they had just done, he would not relent in the one area she wished that he would. He would not change his mind about openly courting her, and would, in all probability insist on returning to their cold, polite friendship when they were in public. That would not do. They had come too far, and Amy would not tolerate a return to such frigid terms in their relationship. That left only one reasonable solution. She would have to court him. And then, seduce him.

  Chapter Eight

  Society Tales

  The Falconridge musicale last night - and for once, let us not hide names, for it would do no good in this case, as it felt as if well over half of London attended the event - was bordering on being considered a rather tedious affair. After all, the illustrious Italian soprano - and noted seductress - Miss Gianna Vienetti has been seen about town a bit over much this season, at least in the opinion of this humble author. Never mind that word has it that she is out to snare the suddenly much-sought-after physician, G.B., and is of a mind to take him to the Continent where she might wed him in a foolish plan to gain entry for herself into polite society.

  Last night was another example of the woman's desperate attempt to use her wiles to snare the man, but all was for naught, as the man in question could not take his eyes away from another lady in attendance. Could wedding bells be in the offing for that couple? It is possible and, I am told by my sources, that his suit would be welcome, even though certain members of society feel him lacking. This author feels that the cries against him are all posh and nonsense, but then, what do I know? I am merely your humble scribe, reporting what I see and hear. In this case, however, I feel certain that the attraction is there and that love matches are a rare gift indeed.

  -Lady X

  As Amy allowed Gibson to lead her to the refreshment table at Lord and Lady Coleridge's ball that evening, she was certain that every person who laid eyes on her knew with a single glance what she and Gibson had been doing three days earlier. She was absolutely certain she was still blushing somewhere, even if no one could see it and even after so much time had passed. She simply could not stop thinking about his touch on her skin or the way he had made her feel. Cherished. Wanted. Loved.

  Not to mention that the mysterious Lady X was doing her part to fan the flames of scandal mixed with acceptance surrounding her and Gibson. That morning's column had bordered on completely indecent. Then again, what she had done with Gibson in that secluded guest room was, in most circles, considered indecent by polite society. It was certainly enough to ruin her.

  "Do stop fidgeting," Gibson whispered in her ear as he offered her a plate and began placing treats upon it. "It is not becoming of The Paragon of the ton." He softened his words with a smile, though he did mean them. He was afraid that if she continued to act as skittish as a newborn colt, someone would figure out that he was with her for reasons that were decidedly not medical in nature.

  She sniffed haughtily and selected another delicacy from a different tray. "Easy for you to say," she whispered from behind her fan, "as you were not in my position." A look of mischief lit her eyes, and he could tell that she was humoring him. God help him.

  He wanted to offer her teasing words in return, but just then Lord Drake strode by, and Gibson couldn't help but notice the glassy look in the other man's eyes. Drake had clearly been drinking again and would undoubtedly be spoiling for a fight the way he usually was when he over-imbibed. Gibson knew he would have to be wary.

  Drake shot Gibson a dark look and sneered in his general direction, but made no move to engage either Amy or Gibson in any type of conversation. From the anger burning in his eyes, he had apparently read that morning's Society Tales column and had deduced the identities of the amorous couple in question. Not that it was all that difficult, really. Lady X really did very little to hide the identities of those she wrote about.

  Before arriving at the Cheltenham townhouse earlier that morning, Gibson had paid a visit to Caroline to thank her for the previous four days worth of "Lady X" columns, which had done quite a bit to soothe the ruffled feathers of the ton regarding his escort of Lady Amy. He had also requested that she refrain from writing about marriage and other scandalous notions in the column, but Caroline had simply waved him off as she was wont to do when she felt passionately about a topic.

  With great glee, Caroline had informed Gibson that she had managed to get word around to other gossip papers that Lord Evanston, not to mention Prinny himself, would be greatly displeased if Gibson's escort of Amy during Lady Evanston's convalescence was interrupted in any way. It was phrased such that it was a threat in as much as it was a tidbit of gossip. Given the surly way Drake was behaving this evening, Gibson had no doubt that the whelp's father, the esteemed Earl of Tottenshire, had warned his son away from interfering with "state business" as the entire affair was apparently now being called. At least if the rumors Gibson currently heard floating about were any indication, and he suspected that they were. The ton and its gossip mill worked far more quickly than he remembered, it seemed.

  If only his family had not lost their title, Gibson could stake his claim to Lady Amy's heart and court her openly this very evening. Then there would be no need for this kind of subterfuge. As he had once told her, however, life could not be lived on "what-ifs," and Gibson knew he was doing what was necessary to protect her. Despite how glorious it had been to watch her come apart in his arms only a few days ago. Not to mention how much he longed for it to happen again.

  He had to repeatedly remind himself that her safety needed to be his utmost priority. Not her sexual satisfacti
on.

  The Bow Street Runner that Gibson had hired several days ago had yet to turn up any information on a possible threat to Amy. All that the man had managed to find was a vague reference to something involving her old music master years before, but even that rumor was not specific. Anyway, the man had died in an accident shortly after the reported incident, and therefore, could no longer be considered a true threat.

  "Ahem."

  That single word was enough to pull Gibson from this thoughts, and he looked up to see Amy giving him a reproving look, all she would dare in a room full of people.

  "Lord and Lady Radcliffe have been here for a full two minutes now, and we have yet to go over and offer our felicitations." Amy would have smacked Gibson on the shoulder had she been able. She wanted his full attention, not his polite and distracted disinterest. After all that had been shared between them the last few days, including their magnificent interlude abovestairs at her home, she had thought them well past this stage of cool indifference. Apparently not.

  Looking around, Gibson spied the handsome duke who was accompanied by his lovely wife of less than a year. To look at her, one would never know that Lady Julia Radcliffe was increasing, though the condition was fairly recent. As Dr. Hastings was the Radcliffe's private physician, Gibson was also privy to that type of information in case an emergency arose.

  "My apologies, my lady" Gibson said as he bowed slightly and then offered Amy his arm. "We shall rectify that situation immediately." Moving as gracefully as if he mixed in polite company every day of his life, he escorted Amy across the room to her friends.

  Memories of what he and Amy had shared so very recently assaulted Gibson's mind as he watched her walk beside him, making it all the more difficult to keep a polite and disinterested face for all to see. She was grace and beauty incarnate. She deserved all of the accolades thrown her way, plus more. He did not want anyone to guess at how The Paragon had come apart in the arms of a lowly physician. That type of scandal would rob Amy of her rightful place in the ton. Not to mention that it would cause her family great distress. No matter what Lady Evanston had implied earlier.