Seducing His Lordship

by Brenda Williamson

  “We’ll make this work,” Lord Laramore declared of their precarious situation on the piece of furniture.

  His face blurred her vision of him when he pressed his lips to hers again. He managed to find a new hold on the back of the settee and the seat so that not all his weight squished her. Not that she minded when the subtle musky scent of him collided with her senses. She loved the way he covered her with his powerful body.

  When he released her mouth and stared into her eyes, he elevated his torso and gave her lungs relief. “Have you changed your mind? Do you no longer want to give me an heir?”

  For a moment, she was shocked speechless by the feeling of his aroused manhood against her thigh. The soft tickle of his skin upon hers had a strange effect on her body. She felt chilled by the air stirring over her exposed breasts. On the other hand, there was this heat sweeping up between her legs. If not for the skirting of her gown bunched at her waist, there’d be nothing to stop her from feeling Lord Laramore’s abdomen on hers. Still, the movement of his aroused cock gliding upward was enough to scare her.

  “No,” she croaked with an unladylike hoarseness. She’d come this far with her desire to know her husband. There was no turning back without knowing how deep his want of her was to be.

  Chapter Three

  The settee wasn’t the place Gabriel had envisioned making love to his wife.

  He had dreams of her in his room, their room, his bed, their bed.

  He had many dreams, and they always started with Carmody. Her sudden refusal didn’t fit with his plans. However, it made him realign his thoughts and step back from taking advantage for his own gain. The room went silent, all except the pulse of his heartbeat echoing in his head.

  “What’s wrong?” She grasped his sides as he tried to rise.

  “You answered no to wanting to give me an heir.” Blood pounded through his veins

  “I answered no, I haven’t changed my mind.” She repositioned her one hand to his face. “You shouldn’t ask two opposing questions in the same breath, milord. It makes for a confusing conversation.”

  The heated tips of her fingers slid along his jaw, stroking gently. She slid them across his bottom lip. One by one, they dropped away.

  “I do see your point. So, you are still agreeable to producing an inheritor of the Laramore name?”

  “Yes, milord.” She tipped her head back.

  Satisfied beyond all measure, he met her puckered mouth with a firm kiss. The devil with the bed and the hell with location; he’d not deny himself the enticement of Carmody’s willingness another moment.

  “Lift your leg a bit more,” he suggested, fighting the lack of space the settee offered.

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” she gasped, as he released more of the hooks on her gown.

  “Let me worry about that.” He tugged her clothing farther down her arms, exposing everything of importance.

  “But there’s no room.” Her succulent breasts heaved with her deep inhale.

  There was no resisting the ruby-capped mounds rising to attention. Between a thumb and forefinger, he squeezed the puffy nipple.

  “Oh!” she squeaked, as he plucked hard at her breast.

  A soft moan followed.

  Gabriel enticed another by twisting and pulling the fattening tip. He flexed and rubbed with a plan to suck on the nub. Without room to shift downward and claim the swollen bud of her luscious breast while nesting his cock between her legs, he resumed nibbling and licking her lips.

  Carmody’s moans lengthened. Her body rocked beneath him, and her hands slipped from his sides to his back. She clutched with an eager hold, her nails embedding into his skin.

  Silently berating himself for never before taking advantage of having a beautiful and generous wife to love, he consoled himself with the fact it was his marital right as a husband to enjoy the charms of the lady now.

  Weakened by animalistic lust, Gabriel gave up the pleasure of toying with her ample breasts and hunted for the crux of her legs. He leaned to the side and reached to insert himself in the moist heat of her sex.

  “Oh, you have an elbow in my ribs.” Carmody suddenly squealed, pushing him away.

  His knee slipped from the precarious edge of the narrow piece of furniture, and he fell, crashing to the floor, flipping sideways onto his arm, and flopping over onto his back.

  He stared up at her.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Lord Laramore.” She reached down. “Are you all right?”

  Her wide eyes displayed a fretful worry—an aggrieved concern he felt obligated to vanquish.

  “Absolutely.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the settee.

  She landed on top him with a yelp. Her soft breasts squished against his chest.

  “Shall we continue?” He slid his arm around her back, keeping her in place, feeling the warmth of her legs straddling his thigh.

  “On the floor?” Her brow arched with surprise.

  “We have plenty of room.” He rolled her off him so she lay on the Persian carpet.

  “You’re right about that.” She turned her head. “Oh my, do you know there are cobwebs beneath the settee?”

  “I didn’t.” He kissed her cheek, enjoying the flavor of her skin.

  “The servants should be told about this.” She looked at him again.

  He stared into her deep blue eyes, seeing the heavenly home of her soul.

  “I’ll see to it.” He leaned over her so that his chest pressed her breasts.

  Her pulse beat fast against his lips along her neck. He savored the area, taking the delicate flesh of her earlobe between his teeth.

  “I hate having a dirty house.” Carmody heaved a sigh that sounded as if it were her fault.

  He ignored her distraction with swirls of his tongue along the rim of her ear, spiraling inward along the whorl.

  “I know guests don’t look everywhere, but what if one should happen to be down here, for whatever reason, and they saw this filth?” she grumbled.

  Gabriel lifted his head and laughed. Carmody delighted him in so many ways. The mere fact she could ignore his seduction by obsessing over the cleanliness of the house fascinated him. Although, he also suffered a stab of pain from her sudden indifference toward his efforts. Did she have no feelings for him other than physical?

  “There’s nothing funny about a dirty house, Gabriel.”

  He had asked her to say his name before, but it meant much more to hear her say it freely on her own. That hinted at a trace of affection.

  “But there is about having guests lying on the floor.” He smiled, finding her more adorable than he remembered.

  “Gabriel, I’m serious.” The sound of his name coming from her again as if it were a common practice drew him close to kissing her lovely mouth. Had she thought of him so personally in the past?

  “Well, I never expected to be on the floor, but look at me. Here I am, flat on my back, in a most unusual position with you lying naked over me.”

  Gabriel pushed up and stood. “I think you’re right. This is not the time or place for us to make a baby.”

  She sat up and shifted to a kneeling position. With her upturned face close to his erection, he savored the sight he’d only had in dreams. He had a good imagination, but nothing met something as real as noticing how her watery eyes shimmered with a strange nervousness. He took it for embarrassment and moved away.

  “You don’t want me?” She gathered her clothing together as she scrambled to her feet. “I mean, you don’t want me to have your baby?”

  “You’re the one who seems unsure, Lady Laramore. The preoccupation with the location and dust display your doubts.”

  “I said I was agreeable.” She looked down as she fastened her clothing.

  “I just think I should give you time to consider what needs done to follow through with producing a Laramore heir.” He took her elbow once her attire was in order. “Maybe this evening we can try again. If you are still of a mind to do thi
s, then come to my room.”

  He led her to the study door.

  “But milord—”

  He unlocked and opened the door, ushering her out of his den. “Think over your decision, and I shall abide by it.”

  Gabriel shut the barrier between them and leaned against it. Apprehensive of his scheme going awry, his heart hammered his ribs. He glanced down at his throbbing cock, hoping he hadn’t dashed all chances of making love to his wife. If ever there was a woman to be his mate, it was the enchanting Lady Laramore.

  After re-dressing, Gabriel walked outside to the balcony. The hedge maze loomed beyond the rose garden. An affair with his wife meant he’d have to make changes to his lifestyle. He couldn’t freely run the gardens at night or prowl the house in his altered state. Sleeping on the settee was definitely out once she saw to the servants cleaning away the cobwebs beneath and the hair he shed on top. If he was to have any success in winning his wife’s affections, he had to keep her and the cat apart.

  Chapter Four

  Carmody spent the day preparing for her dinner party the following evening. Gabriel’s offer of a nighttime meeting kept her tense, even though she tried using the distraction of selecting flowers for the table arrangement and going over the next day’s menu with the cook. The staff she had brought knew better than she did what to do, so by afternoon, she left them to their chores while she bathed and readied for her rendezvous with Lord Laramore.

  It frightened her at how intense her feelings had grown for him. In the beginning, infatuation had played a large part in her fantasy of love. Now that she had felt the heat of his skin meshed against her own, she knew there was something to her fairy-tale wishes.

  Just before sunset, Carmody bravely walked to the master suite dressed in her most alluring nightgown and robe. A little nervous about her undertaking, she knocked lightly on Lord Laramore’s door. When she didn’t get an answer, she took a deep breath and tapped again with a firmer connection. The door opened.

  “Lady Laramore.” Silas bowed, keeping his eyes downward. “I was just turning down his bed for the night. The Viscount has gone for a stroll in the gardens as he does every evening at this time.”

  “He does?” She bit her bottom lip, embarrassed she knew nothing of his habits.

  “Shall I fetch him for you?”

  “No. I’ll find him on my own.” She turned away.

  “You should wait until he returns, milady.” The warning in his voice stopped her.

  “Why?” The idea her husband might be meeting one of the scullery maids, soured the sweet titillations in her belly. “Is he… Who is with him?”

  “Who, milady?” Silas’s brow furrowed. “Why no one that I’m—”

  Carmody spun away and hurried down the hallway without waiting for Silas to finish his lie.

  It would be her fault. She had teased him without shame that afternoon. He’d certainly have to find relief. After her careless actions, it would serve her right to discover him fornicating on the lawn with some young chit who eagerly stripped bare at his suggestion.

  She walked toward the moonlit rose garden.

  “Lord Laramore?” she whispered, finding her courage on shaky ground. “Lord Laramore?” she tried again, not any louder, but more insistently.

  The rustle of leaves drew her attention to the maze. She had never gone into the labyrinth of hedges, afraid she might forget the way out. Spending only two seasons at the manor in the two years of her marriage, she knew there were many places on the estate she hadn’t explored. However, if Lord Laramore was about, he’d certainly find her should she start screaming for help. After all, the Laramore Estate had been in his family a great number of years. He’d know the grounds, the gardens, and the maze quite well.

  “Lord Laramore, are you out here?” She took a step into the arched entrance of the massive hedges. “Yoo-hoo?”

  The sounds of churning leaves on the ground grew louder. She looked at her own feet standing on the plush green of summer grass and wondered where the rustling came from.

  “Lord Laramore?” A myriad of thoughts occurred to her as she moved forward. What if she got lost? Would her voice be strong enough for someone to hear her yells? What about wildlife? The estate was surrounded by a forest. She’d heard the howls of wolves in the past, adding another reason for her to never consider venturing into the maze.

  The swishing sound stopped. Could it have been the woosh of a woman’s undergarments or taffeta skirting? Carmody grasped her robe and swished it from side to side, hoping what she had heard came from the movement of her own clothing.

  Then the distinct cough of a man echoed from ahead.

  “L-L-Lord Laramore?” The darkness made her nervous, leery of trusting the viscount could be the only person out there.

  Without any response to her calling, she decided to return to the manor and wait there. She twirled around and stared at the hedge without an opening. To the right, she saw the glimmer of lightness in the outline of shadows. It had been foolish to walk where her feet led her. Only the space she thought was an opening was nothing more than a recess cut in the greenery with an alabaster statue standing on a short pillar.

  “I was sure—” She spun again and hurried in the opposite direction.

  Clouds swallowed the moon, cutting off what little she could see. She held out her hands and searched blindly for an opening.

  “Oh dear.” She stopped and tried to think if she was facing the right direction.

  Footsteps resounded around her.

  “Lord Laramore?” Her voice rattled with an intensity that startled her.

  “Yes?” His touch on her back startled her into swinging about-face.

  The clouds drifted away, revealing her husband in the new glow from the moonlight. She had the urge to throw herself into his embrace, yet decorum restrained her from showing her fears of the night. The reassuring sight of him fully dressed was also beneficial to her nerves, and she dismissed the idea he was in the hedges like a rutting animal on the scent of another woman.

  “I went to your room and—”

  “You did?” His mouth curved upwards in the corners. The dim lighting made it hard to tell if he gloated over the news or was genuinely pleased.

  “Milord, I’m—”

  He took her hand and led her through the maze. Not out, but deeper into its open center.

  “It’s a lovely night, is it not?” He stood behind her, resting his fingers atop her shoulders. “Unusually warm for spring.”

  “Yes, warm,” she repeated, enjoying the caresses gliding along the slope of her neck.

  “I like the night,” he continued. “Something mysteriously romantic hangs in the air that always brings me out here.”

  “Romantic, Lord Laramore?” She liked the softness to his voice. It reminded her of how gentle he was when they met. Naturally, his intentions of marriage were made clear from the start. However, he also took the time to call upon her and learn more about her feelings on the matter.

  “Yes. For instance, the way the dark provides an intimate privacy.”

  “Milord, I have something to confess.” She moved to face him. “In your study, when I was hesitant, it was because I was nervous.”

  “I suspected as much.” He reached for her arms and held her from moving away. “We are virtually strangers.”

  “I’m still quite anxious, and I hope you’ll have patience with me.” She took a deep breath. “I do want children.”

  “Then you shall have them, as many as you’d like.”

  Carmody twisted free, anxiety making her pace, but her need for clarity caused her to stop. “I’ve never had a lover,” she said quickly before she lost the nerve to tell him at all.

  “Never?” His brow arched as he stared at her with skepticism.

  She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have given you the impression I had.”

  He stayed silent for the longest time. Nothing in his expression told her his thoughts. Did he think she lied
to seem more virginal? Was he upset, angry, or amused by her childishness?

  “Take off your robe, Carmody.” The expanse of his chest widened with each breath he took. His strong shoulders drew back in his approach. Hunger she’d seen from him before seemed to keep him hypnotized.

  “You’re not going to comment on what I’ve told you?” she asked.

  His lack of emotion at her revelation left her confused.

  “What would you like me to say? That I’m disappointed you haven’t cheated on me?” He stepped forward and attempted to untie the sash to her robe.

  “I think something should be said.” She breathed heavier, energized by the warmth of his hands leaching through the fabric. He was Lord Laramore, a viscount, a man of respect and good standing in society. Of course, he’d not let whatever he felt at that moment sway him from keeping his composure. Only she did wish for a little personal insight.

  “I forgive you for your fidelity.” He made a sound of frustration when her sash knotted.

  She took the growl to his tone as a sign of nervousness. It eased her own considerably to think of him no less human than herself.

  “I’ll do it.” She covered his hands and moved them aside.

  A few twists of the wide blue ribbon and the garment opened.

  Lord Laramore didn’t say anything. He walked around her, circling in a somewhat predatory way. Without a single touch, he made her flush with an internal heat that brought perspiration to her pores. The coolness of the evening air tightened her nipples. She ached to feel his lips reclaim them, or his fingertips glide over the parts of her body throbbing because of his visual examination.

  “Could you try not to stare too much?” She lifted her arms, covering her breasts, feeling naked even with the shield of her nightgown.

  “You look lovely in the moonlight, milady.” He held his hand out. “If you come closer; I can’t see as much.”

  She dropped her arms to her sides, giving up the attempt at modesty, and shuffled a foot forward, hesitant until he lifted both his arms.