Seducing His Lordship

by Brenda Williamson

  Chapter Five

  Gabriel didn’t wait to find out if his wife intended to run from him. Sliding into place in front of her, he drew her against him. Her petite frame fit just right; her soft curves molded to every contour. He slid his hand to her lower back and put his other on the nape of her neck.

  “You will be gentle with me, won’t you?” Her arms crept around him tentatively.

  “I’ll try to restrain my animalistic urges to a moderate display.” He smiled, leaned in, and kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

  Her fingers danced in a nervous pattern up and down his back.

  “Don’t fret.” He cupped her jaw and stared at her. “I will teach you all there is to lovemaking so that should you decide to take a lover, you’ll feel much more relaxed. Though I doubt you’ll find anyone as skilled or as passionate as I am.”

  A giggle burst from Carmody, surprising him.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “It’s not that. It made me think how much you are like Reginald. In his world, no one can do anything better.” Her constant caress over his tense muscles stirred his lust.

  “What is there between you and Kent?”

  “He’s someone I trust.”

  “It’s not seemly.” Gabriel let go of her and walked away. “Your reputation will suffer, and I’ll look like the fop.”

  “If you spent time within the circle of our peers, you would know no one will think the worse of you or me.”

  “Still, I must insist you not spend time in his company.”

  “Jealousy, Lord Laramore?”

  “Prudence,” he snapped, not wanting her to know the depths of his truest feelings while she had the power to crush his hopes.

  “Reginald Kent is my first cousin, milord. He’s the son of my mother’s brother, and while some believe it not a sin to fornicate or marry a cousin, I have no desire for him. Besides, I’m afraid I’m not to Reginald’s liking.”

  “You said you just met him at Lady Mitchell’s house.” He looked at her with suspicion. “And what do you mean you’re not to his liking? Is the man that blindly stupid to see you are a treasure?”

  He’d spoken too freely, revealed too much. However, Carmody’s smile had a pleasant effect on him. His insides fluttered as if he’d drunk a good dose of a bubbly wine.

  “No lie, milord. We hadn’t seen each other since we were children, and Reginald’s preferences are for a different gender.”

  Gabriel still harbored a suspicion about her motive in the ruse of taking on a lover. He should have questioned the sexual preferences of the irritating Mr. Kent. But when comparing him to other men he knew who were odd like that, he could see the likelihood. It still made him confused as to what Carmody sought by masquerading as an adulteress. Had her spending habits grown beyond reputable vendors? Was money prompting her to better her position by having his child? Her game bewildered him. With a number of reasons possibly responsible for her deceptions, the worst was his thought that maybe she had lied about her chaste state. Maybe there was an illicit liaison with another man, for which she’d made Kent her pawn to hide the affair?

  He looked over her face, trying to find evidence she was already with child. It would be brilliant of her to make it seem his idea by her talk of inheritors of his name. As for her chaste state, he’d heard women could be clever at pretending many things, including discomfort or pain when penetrated. How would he really know? It wasn’t as if he had bedded any virgins in the course of his life.

  Gabriel relied on his sense of smell for one determination. The internal feline instincts would not have a hungering to pounce if another man had already bred Carmody. With her willing, he’d not pass up the opportunity again.

  “Where were we?” He smiled, lightening the terse change in his mood.

  “You were telling me of your…skills, milord?” Her eyes twinkled seductively in the moonlight.

  He imagined her truly wanting to be there with him for no other purpose than to be adored.

  “You can’t envision I could love you as no other?” He hadn’t meant to blurt out anything that sounded like a confession of his feelings.

  Carmody’s amused expression turned serious. “Show me.” She rolled her shoulders, shrugging off her robe.

  A simple lift of his hand brought her rushing to him. Her gaze propounded the innocence she claimed.

  “I will love you as no other could,” he murmured, before capturing her mouth beneath his.

  Carmody whimpered a beautiful, accepting sound.

  He moved his hand down her back to the curve of her supple bottom, circling, shaping, and exploring her posterior. The pitch of her body against his aroused his cock, hardened his shaft.

  “You’re shivering, milady.” He rubbed her back, holding her snugly. “Maybe the night isn’t so warm.”

  “On the contrary, milord. I burn with yearning to feel your skin against mine. It just makes me nervous at how much I want this—” She tipped her head down shyly. “I mean, how much I want to give you a child.”

  He slid his hand up her neck and lifted her face. “Maybe if we weren’t so formal with each other, it would help you overcome your insecurities. I promise I won’t bite if you tell me what you want.”

  The squeeze of her hands on his sides, the determination in her gaze—Carmody had many layers of strength, and he planned to discover them all.

  “Kiss me again.” She closed her eyes, dug her fingers into his shirt, and pulled him toward her. “Kiss me deeply, Gabriel.

  He lost sight of her puckered pink lips when they pressed to his. She opened her mouth, and he took it as an invitation for his tongue. However, it was more to release her warm sigh that rolled over his tongue and blazed a path to his lungs.

  His chest smoldered with the intense emotions of love.

  Gabriel rolled his head from one side to the other, hunting for the best angle to enjoy the kiss. Carmody’s sultry whimpers and approving hum kept him active, aggressive, and determined to give her the best he had to offer. But what was his best? Had anyone ever told him?

  Their lips lost contact, and Carmody pressed her cheek to his. “You make me breathless with just a kiss, milord.”

  He captured her mouth again and prodded her lips with the tip of his tongue. Taking a firm hold of her waist, he bent his knees and lowered her to the ground, laying Carmody on the bed of thick-bladed grass. He had all the advantages of a hunter with his prey. Submissive, sedate, her virtues abounded, and he went for the one that would give him a victorious pride if still intact—her virginity.

  Gabriel rose to his feet and unfastened his clothes. There was no turning back or denying his instincts. The riffle of a sound, much like a seductive purr, made him anxious. He gazed at the length of her. The veil of her nightgown hid nothing more than the texture of her skin. The moon had illuminated each angle of her limbs and every curve of her softness. He thirsted for the first taste from the shadowed recess at the juncture of her legs.

  Carmody lifted, propping up on her elbows, and watched him with what appeared an equal hunger. The rise and fall of her chest as she breathed snared his attention.

  “Undo the laces,” he instructed.

  Her fingers fluttered over the surface of the nightgown. When it was undone, nothing prevented the two halves of sheer cotton from falling open. All the way to her belly, the garment parted.

  Provocative in her repose, she didn’t portray a woman of sexual purity. A pause for concern made him wonder. Had she more of an awareness of what to expect than she let on? A woman’s virginal barrier needn’t be breached for a man and woman to have indulged in the carnal knowledge of the flesh.

  Gabriel moved forward, flinging his shirt aside, determined not to let his own misgivings and concerns deter him. With his foot, he nudged her ankle. “Open your legs.”

  She had to raise her nightgown to her knees to comply with his command.

  “Higher.” He directed with a jerk of his head.

&nbs
p; How far could he push her?

  The brazen vixen showed him by lying back and tugging the nightgown up her thighs to her hips. She pulled her legs up, drawing her knees back and fanning her limbs open.

  He took deep breaths and licked his lips. She had to have lied about some aspect of her virginity with the boldness she displayed. He ran a hand over the drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. Eager to taste the succulent folds of her splayed center, he dropped his trousers and knelt between her bare feet.

  “Now what shall you have me do?” Mindlessly, she rubbed the crumpled cloth over her midsection.

  “Enjoy the moment.” He slid his fingers along her smooth leg, turning his hand as he went, so his light touch swirled over the ringlet patch covering the twin lips of her mound. He petted and grasped the silky, damp-coiled hairs.

  “Gabriel,” she moaned.

  He rubbed his finger deeper. “I plan to make your button quiver as never before.” He bent forward, sniffed the sweet essence of her, and blew a stream of air into the channel. The gap winked, and he fingered the twitching center.

  “Oh God, don’t stop.”

  He kissed along the outer fringe, brushing her pelvic area with light sweeps of his tongue. Gentle teases to all areas surrounding her nether region made her wiggle.

  “This is just the beginning.” He buried his face into her scent, lapping at the entrance, thirsting for her thoughts to be only for him.

  He partook of the tantalizing redolence with pleasure and flicked his tongue between the petals of her sex. It took very little persuasion to tease her clit from beneath its protective hood. Her moans increased in pitch, taunting him with a vibratory purr.

  “Oh God, yes, Gabriel,” she cried, writhing on the ground.

  He sucked fervently on the button of nerves, showing her no mercy.

  Her cries escalated. “Gabriel, please, I can’t take any more.” Her hips jerked from the ground.

  He slid his hands beneath her and held her up, mouthing her twitching nether region. Her flailing legs went in the air and landed over his shoulders. In the throes of madness, her thighs squeezed his head in a viselike hold he didn’t think he’d escape.

  Gabriel lowered her to the ground and pried his face from the heavily scented, delightfully creamy essence of her climax. He leaned down and caught the tip of her breast with his mouth. The peak hardened in the grip of his teeth, and he nibbled it gently, tugged it firmly.

  “Please, Gabriel, please.”

  He pushed his trousers down from his hips. His cock sprang forth, unleashed from the constraints of fabric. He lowered to her, nestling his arousal into place. One flex of his hips and he penetrated her. Her wetness invited him to plunge farther into the narrow canal. Three strokes pushed him through the tight channel.

  Carmody’s pain-filled outcry was brief. She acted the part well, as her kiss, her sweet stare, and her awkwardness proclaimed chastity. He still had trouble with his doubts. Had this nymph come to him untouched by another man, or was everything about her a well-rehearsed performance?

  On the side of caution, he poured his love into his embrace. “Trust me, it will never hurt like this again,” he whispered, and then touched her trembling lips with a sweep of his.

  Her hands moved to his chest, stroking in a petting fashion. “I trust you, milord.”

  He rocked into her, flexing his lower torso up and down, inching deeper until her body accepted all of him. His hesitation remained brief. Her tight core needed guidance and lubrication from his strokes. The alternating thrusting and kissing escalated. Carmody’s whimpers grew agitated, her hands moved over him with that fretful indecision as to where they should land. Then her vaginal walls clenched. In an uncontrollable flutter, they constricted in spasms on his shaft. Her grip took hold against his lower back. Each time he pushed into her, he felt the sting of her nails stretch and rake into his buttocks. She drove him wild. Pumping faster, anxious to spill himself into her during her climax, he also tried to remember the delicacy of her body. Yet, Carmody showed no signs of frailty.

  Blood coursed through him, thumping a hurried path along every route. His sac drew up taut, unyielding with the pressure of his seed.

  “Oh God, Gabriel!” Carmody’s voice broke his involuntary restraint.

  Those first throes of euphoria were the most insightful moments he’d ever experienced. He drove into her with several hard plunges, and his body propelled his fluid into her womb. Repeatedly, he jerked without control as his sperm spurted into her childbearing cavern. He heaved hard against her compliant body, his grunts helping to dispel the long suppressed sexual release.

  Carmody clung to him. Her nails raked long-etched scratches into his flesh. The salty flavor of her tears moistened the cheeks he kissed. A roar of victory sprang from his lungs. It felt good, liberating his pent-up frustrations.

  “Are you all right?” The alarm in her tone brought him up on his arms to look at her. He held her face and kissed her nose.

  No woman had ever questioned him with such sincerity that it brought tears to his eyes. Carmody possessed all the endearing qualities of a kind selflessness that drew him to her in the first place. He was glad she didn’t know how cork-brained he’d been in his thinking she wasn’t a virgin. If not in fact, in his mind.

  “Yes.” He wiped his fingers over her damp cheeks.

  She smiled and lifted her head. Her kisses dotted his face. “That was amazing, milord, and I think you were right.”

  “About what?” He moved off her and lay at her side, keeping her snuggled close to give her warmth from his body.

  “We should do this frequently to insure I’m with child as soon as possible.”

  “Then I suggest a bed.” He brought her up from the ground.

  “I didn’t mean tonight.” She laughed, a pleasing sound, as he scooped her into his arms.

  “Practice makes perfect.” He kissed her.

  “I should need lots, milord,” she replied. “As often as you think, Gabriel.”

  He’d wear the poor lady out to make everything perfect between them if need be. He fell deeper in love with her every minute they were together. He was starting to believe nothing could destroy that trust she’d shown him.

  Chapter Six

  Carmody woke feeling extremely hot. She pushed at the covers and kicked them away. The heat remained. She rubbed her eyes and smiled, looking around at Gabriel’s room, remembering the night. She closed her eyes and tried reliving the beautiful dream he had made of their time together. Even Dolly’s erotic French novel detailing lovemaking hadn’t made her believe how happy she’d feel. She thought the stories an exaggeration of someone’s fantasies. Her body sang with an aching joy that proved otherwise.

  She rolled over to see what Gabriel looked like asleep. A large white and silver jungle cat lay stretched out in his place. Startled, she scooted away in panic and fell from the bed. In a backward descent, she slammed hard against the floorboards, screaming in pain and fear.

  Numb from the impact, she still scrambled to get on her feet. She hung onto the sheet for a defense against the cool morning as well as the predator’s intense gaze at her nudity. She had woken him, and now he had a hypnotic stare that kept her still. She was afraid to move, worried he’d attack. Her mind went blank when it came to a plan of escape. The bed sat too low to the floor to crawl under. Was the door to the room locked, keeping her from leaving too quickly? Soon she dragged the bedcover around her body and took a chance. She ran for the door.

  “Carmody?” Gabriel’s voice stopped her flight from the room.

  She spun around and stared at him sitting where she’d seen the animal.

  “Where did it go?” She bent over and looked beneath the bed only inches off the hardwood.

  “What?” Gabriel’s brow rose, appearing perplexed by her question.

  “That huge white cat.”

  “You asked I get rid of him.” Propped on his elbow, he pushed himself to a sitting position.
She eased around the footboard of the bed and looked on the other side near the wall.

  “When did you have time? Besides, I wasn’t referring to a small housecat. This was a large beast, like one of those wild lions at the zoo.”

  “You must have been dreaming.”

  Because she had messed up the bed in her stunned escape, Gabriel sat without the covering of sheet or blanket. Not accustomed to seeing the nakedness of him, she glanced away for a second. However, her attraction to his muscle-hewn shape drew her gaze back to him. His unfazed attitude piqued her interest. She took the time to inventory the features from his shoulders downward.

  He leaned from the bed and grabbed her arm. “Climb back on this mattress. I wish to make another effort at putting a babe in your belly.”

  Not as nervous as the night before, she crawled onto the mattress and slid into Gabriel’s embrace. She pushed her hands over his solid shoulders and pressed her breasts against his chest. He had a warmth she loved to squish herself to as tight as possible.

  “It didn’t seem like a dream.” She swept her fingers up the back of his neck into his hair.

  “Dreams are often realistic.” He rolled her to her back and leaned over her.

  She met him halfway, pressing her lips to his and rolling her tongue inside his mouth. Combing her fingertips into his wavy hair, she pushed him back to the pillows. All night she had wanted to be the aggressor, to experiment with what she had learned from Dolly’s naughty collection of books and magazines. Her bout with an alarming dream pumped adrenaline through her. Enlivened by her imagined danger, she swished her hand over Gabriel’s firm body.

  “Touch me,” he whispered against her lips, pulling her hand from his chest.

  He dragged her fingers over his abdomen and placed them on the firm sheath of his cock. She closed her hand around the stiff maleness, dying to feed his pleasure any way she could. Gabriel made a sound much like those she’d heard from him all night, those moans of extreme satisfaction that she wanted to be the source of each and every time.