His warm laugh rumbled deep from his chest. “She’d tell you to stand up straight and snap out of it, Haverford.” His tone imitated the old battle axe Lady Greenley.
Gemma laughed harder, only to stifle the sound with her hands. It would be an utter disaster if her parents overheard her and came to check on her.
Sobering again, she looked up at him. There was so much she wanted to ask him, to know about everything that they’d written to each other in the last decade, but she had to be clear about what he had done, and what James had done.
“And the garden? Did you tell me to meet you there and send me the blindfold?” The puzzle pieces seemed to be falling into place…the changing penmanship, the change of tone and interest, the depth of emotion too had changed. James never did like to talk about anything serious, but Jasper had.
With a grim expression, he nodded. “I did send you the blindfold and asked you to meet me in the garden. James told me I had to compromise you so he’d have a reason to break it off when he discovered you’d been with someone else. I hated myself for doing that to you.”
“Why didn’t he just come to me and tell me from the start he didn’t love me?” She leaned into him, eager to feel his heart beat against her cheek.
“Because he’s a cur. I should have told him I wouldn’t do it, but I was a fool who wanted to help him out. I went to the garden out of loyalty to him, but when I saw you that first time in the garden, God how I wanted you, Gemma. Everything we’d shared over the years, it just came rushing back to me and I couldn’t walk away from you.” He tilted her chin up so she had to look him in the eye.
“You truly love me?” His warmth against hers fogged up her mind, but she had to be sure of him and his love.
“More than you know,” he admitted with an unexpected vulnerability in his eyes that made her love him all the more.
“I climbed a bloody trellis, braving thorny peril for you my fair huntress. Now, give me an answer, one that won’t break this poor sailor’s heart. Can I yet reach the fair star that shines in my night sky?” His lips teased her cheek and for the briefest second she forget to breathe.
She loved Jasper. The realization made her giddy.
“I…I will marry you Jasper.” She turned her head to catch his lips with hers in a sweet, tender kiss, one full of emotion and nothing else between them except that love which had once burned only upon the pages of their letters. Now it burned between their lips.
He brushed her hair back and she caught his hand, seeing the red angry bruises on his knuckles.
“What happened?” she asked, then brushed her lips over his reddened skin.
He frowned a little. “I hit James.”
“You hit James? What on earth for?” She couldn’t imagine the two men coming to blows.
“He was being himself, and I was tired of him besmirching an innocent woman’s good name,” he said.
She raised his hand to her lips again and lovingly kissed the tender bruises. He’d defended her honor. Such a gentleman rogue…and he was hers.
“You know, if you want to heal my other wounds with your kisses, I was recently attacked by Lady Greenley in several places.” His lips curved into a deeply dangerous smile that made Gemma’s body flash with tempting heat.
“Oh? And where would that be?” She arched an eyebrow at him, offering a warm smile to encourage him.
He touched his cheek, she kissed it. He touched his neck and she pressed a kiss there too. He pulled his blouse off and touched his chest. Gemma feathered her lips down from his neck inch by pleasurable inch.
“Anywhere else?” she asked in a low sultry voice.
His eyes darkened and he hissed out a breath, adjusting his trousers. “Well…” He started to touch his thigh when footsteps thudded on the stairs.
“Quick, get down. It’s my father!” She shoved him off the bed behind her, ignoring the thump and the stifled groan. At the moment her father knocked on her door, she kicked at Jasper’s body by her legs, urging him to slide under her bed.
“Gemma dear? Are you all right? May I come in?” her father asked, his voice a little muffled by the wooden door.
“I’m not entirely decent, papa, but you may peek inside if you wish,” she called out.
“I’d like a peek inside too,” Jasper’s wicked whisper slithered up her bare legs and a warm hand started to slide up her calf.
She kicked out, but Jasper’s hand didn’t leave.
Her father poked his head in the door and looked at her, a pleasant smile hovering about his lips. “Everything all right dear?”
“Yes, I’m fine, just preparing for bed,” she lied.
He studied her with an unreadable gaze and she flushed. It had everything to do with Jasper’s lips against the inside of her thigh, just out of her father’s sight.
“Well, your mother is turning in for the night. I’ll be up a little while longer if you need me.” Her father started to leave but paused, and with another little twist of his lips, he spoke again. “Mr. Holland, when you find yourself able to rise from behind my daughter’s bed, please come to my study so you and I might discuss Gemma’s dowry.” And then her father shut the bedroom door leaving them alone again.
Gemma fell back onto the bed mortified, burying her face in her hands.
Jasper leapt to his feet and towered over her where she sat on the bed. He gently shoved her flat on her back and slid his hands underneath her chemise, trying to lift it off her.
“Jasper, what are you doing?” She tried to tug her chemise back down, but he brushed her hands away.
“Your father doesn’t expect me for a little while, so let’s enjoy the moment,” he purred. He kissed her lips while parting her legs and eased himself down onto her.
Gemma giggled when he nibbled on her ear. She loved the way he could be part rough and part gentle as though his need for her was so great, but his love for her tempered him enough to go slower when she needed it.
“You’re terrible, you know that?” she said, her breath coming faster now. She let her hands roam over his back, and she grasped his shirt, lifting it up. Bare skin, that’s what she wanted. His skin beneath her hands so she could feel every muscle move and twitch while he made love to her.
“You expect me to admire my star from afar? I think not, I’ve tasted the heaven that is your love and cannot bear to wait another second…” His voice was husky and his eyes dreamily half-closed as he cupped one of her breasts, massaging it gently, expertly, until she panted with the desire to have his mouth there.
Jasper pressed down harder against her, the force of his desire pressed against her now aching core.
How could love making with him be like this? Half passion, half delight, as though being with him was not only about pleasure, but about sheer breathless joy? Who knew love could be this way? That she could be in love with a man and feel so close to him, inside and out as she did now. That they could enjoy each other while being so intimate. It was wondrous. Simply wondrous. Another one of life’s miracles she wouldn’t take for granted.
“That wouldn’t perhaps be Lady Greenley’s parasol would it?” She teased and slid her hand underneath him to stroke him through his breeches. She cupped the thick length of him, squeezed hard enough that he growled against her neck and nipped her ear lobe. The tender spot that made her entire body explode with a fiery need that would have her begging soon.
“Good God no, but I promise to use it much better than a parasol…” His rich voice rumbled in a deep throaty chuckle as he freed himself of his pants.
With a little wriggle she got closer and he positioned himself. One thrust and he was in her to the hilt. She whimpered at the stretching and the ghost of pain, but it didn’t last long before pleasure overtook it.
Their faces were close, their bodies touching everywhere and something about that realization made her tremble. Every part of her was open to him, not just her body, but her heart.
“Do you promise to love me, fo
rever?” she asked as their bodies rocked together in perfect sync.
He captured her wrists and pinned them onto the bed beside her head, the dominant move making her burn even hotter. He had control of them both now, could do anything he liked to her and because she trusted him, she knew he would only ever give her pleasure.
“I don’t have to promise you, Gemma,” he murmured against her mouth and thrust into her slowly, gently, as though he had all the time in the world to make love to her.
“What?” Confusion flitted across her passion dazed mind.
He chuckled, slid himself deeper into her, hitting a spot that made her entire body go limp. A climax hit her hard enough that she saw stars.
“Promises can be broken. My love for you? How I feel about you, about us? It’s not something that will ever break. You’re mine, Gemma Haverford, and I’m never letting you go.”
Neither of them spoke. He continued to rock his body against hers, and she rode out the rippling aftershocks of pleasure while watching him come above her. His parted lips, the widening of his eyes, and the smile of bliss that followed.
“God, woman, I’m so glad you’re mine.” He whispered it so softly she thought for a moment she’d imagined it.
Cupping his face, she traced his lips with hers, and felt the sting of happy tears in her eyes. “And you’re mine. I should have known better than to resist such a temptation.”
“Temptation?” He cocked a brow.
“Oh yes, from the moment you touched me in the garden, you’ve been a wicked temptation, but now you’re mine, my wicked rogue.”
“Wicked rogue? I rather like that.” He flashed her a crooked smile that would have weakened her knees if she had still been standing.
Gemma laughed before finding his lips on hers again. It was beautiful, this passion born of words, consummated with the body and endured by the souls. Every moment was worth the wait.
—The End—
About the Author
Lauren Smith
Lauren Smith- an attorney by day, is an Amazonbest-selling, award winning author by night, who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s a native Oklahoman who lives with her three pets: a feisty chinchilla, sophisticated cat, and dapper little schnauzer. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including being a New England Reader’s Choice Winner, Greater Detroit Bookseller’s Best Award Finalist and a Semi-Finalist for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award. To connect with Lauren or learn more about her books, visit her at the following places:
Website: www.laurensmithbooks.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/LaurenDianaSmith
Twitter: @LSmithAuthor
Newsletter: www.laurensmithbooks.com/coming-soon
Her Perfect Gentleman: A Regency Romance Anthology Page 103
