He shook his head to clear those thoughts and while he continued to tease her nipple with one hand, he glided the other down the long, silky length of her nightgown until he caught the hem. He began to hike the dress up, past her knees, her thighs, until he rested a swath of white satin against her stomach.
“I thought your research was dedicated to my breasts?” she asked, staring down the length of her body to his hand, which now rested on her smooth, naked thigh. “Or have you moved on to a new subject?”
“Indeed not,” he said, pretending affront at such a suggestion. “But my most interesting point of study is how connected they are to your ultimate pleasure. For instance, when I do this…”
He sucked her naked nipple between his lips and began to suckle, tugging hard on the engorged flesh. Vivien gasped and then began to writhe, gripping at the coverlet, lifting her hips as she moaned out a sound of pure pleasure.
“Ah, you see,” he said, letting her nipple slide from his lips with a pop. He glided his fingers up until he lightly fingered her sex. “Very wet now. I can make a conclusion.”
She was out of breath, staring at him with wide, wild eyes. “And that is?” she panted.
“Making you wild is one of the greatest pleasures of my life,” he responded as he moved his lips over hers.
Although he had been playful, it was evident he had truly brought her to a point of pleasure that bordered on madness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him against her with all her might, her kiss wild and passionate, drugging and seductive.
As much as he wanted to savor this moment, to play with her, tease her, he couldn’t deny that his body ached for more fulfilling games. He wanted to be inside her, joined with her in the most primal way possible. He wanted to feel the wet stroke of her sheath as he drove deep within her. He wanted to make the tremors of her release build until her body milked the same from his.
He pulled back and stared down at her. Her bright eyes held his and for a moment he saw every emotion she so skillfully hid every day. He saw desire, yes, but also fear and sadness, loss and yearning, and even a flicker of love, bright but gone before he could verify it had existed.
“Please,” she whispered.
He couldn’t deny her request. Gently, he tugged her gown over her other shoulder and dragged the entire contraption away from her body. He tossed the silk over the edge of the bed and looked at her, naked and perfect against his pillows. Tonight she was his and he intended to take full advantage of that.
He returned his attention to her breasts, pressing them together so that he could suckle one nipple, then move to the other to repeat the action. She mewled with pleasure, jolting and shivering as he thumbed and sucked the tender peaks.
“Take off your clothes,” she panted when he took a moment to pull away and catch his breath. “Now.”
He laughed. “Ordering me around, are you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Please, please take off your clothes.”
He swallowed at the need in her voice, more intense than it ever had been before. He shoved off the bed and stripped out of his clothing in record time. When he rejoined her on the bed, she reached for his cock with a shudder of need. He let her stroke him a few times before he changed position.
He pulled her to a sitting position and kissed her as he maneuvered her. She opened her legs without resistance, lifting herself on his lap at his urging until his cock was at her entrance. More importantly, she was face-to-face with him in the most intimate of positions. They looked into each other’s eyes as he slid deeply within her, encountering no resistance after all her excitement.
Her grip on his shoulders tightened and she moved to bury her face in the crook of his neck, but he lifted a finger to press beneath her chin.
“Look at me, Vivien,” he whispered, his tone caught between an order and a plea.
For a moment, her stare was pure terror, but then she nodded. They locked gazes as he began to move. With the first stroke, pleasure tore through him, ricocheting through his body with an intensity that took him off guard. She responded to the thrust, riding him, milking him, letting him feel her pleasure and see the rising tide of it in her clear blue eyes. He felt entirely joined with her, more powerfully than he had ever felt before. It was intense, passionate, and above all else, loving.
He felt the flutters of her orgasm just as the hot burst of his own rose out of his control. Together they cried out, clinging to each other, lost in the other’s stare, as their bodies jerked out of control. She pulled his seed from him with her wild thrusts and the only time she broke his stare was when she tilted her head back and let out a low, hungry cry of pleasure that seemed to fill the room, fill his ears, fill his soul with satisfaction.
She fell forward against him, clinging to him as she buried her face in his bare shoulder. He leaned back, pulling her against him as he lay down. He expected her to move, to draw back, to excuse herself. Instead, she settled in against him and held him.
An hour had passed since they made love and Vivien remained against Benedict’s side. She felt warm, safe, comfortable and for the first time in all her life, she did not want to run from those intense feelings. She sat up a fraction.
In the dying firelight, Benedict’s face was relaxed in sleep. He was so handsome, so perfect.
She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and he did not stir with the motion. She smiled, but the expression faded as a strong desire welled up in her. A desire to do something she had never done before.
She touched him again, to be certain he was not awake. When he didn’t move or react, she leaned closer, her hands shaking.
“I love you,” she whispered.
The words sounded so foreign coming from her mouth, from her voice. True, but foreign. And yet somehow comforting to finally admit out loud what she had felt for weeks. For years.
Suddenly exhausted, she cuddled against his side and let herself drift into sleep. Tomorrow might bring a whole new set of pains, but tonight she was happy. And tonight was enough.
Chapter Sixteen
Vivien sat across from Benedict, staring as he ate his breakfast. She had never spent a night with him before. Never shared breakfast at his table. A fact he seemed to find as amazing as she did troubling.
He smiled. “You should eat some of that. Starving yourself won’t change what you have done.”
She shook her head. “What did I do?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I know you well enough to recognize that you are panicking over staying with me last night. It isn’t your nature to share breakfast with someone.”
“It is a delightful breakfast, though,” she attempted weakly.
He seemed to see through her uncomfortable façade and smiled, though he didn’t press her, which put her at ease enough to talk to him about the exact subject he had brought up.
“I don’t know why I stayed,” she said softly. “I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with you.”
He lifted his head from his breakfast and stared at her for a long moment before he spoke. “I am glad of that.”
“I need you, I suppose, more than I wish I did,” she continued, the words catching in her throat even as she forced them out.
“I would give you anything you needed,” he vowed.
“I know that to be true.” She shook her head. “To your detriment. That’s why I left in the first place. That’s why we could never be together now.”
He opened his mouth to argue that point, but her lifted hand stopped him.
“This is a subject we never agree upon. Why don’t we avoid destroying this lovely moment?” When he nodded in acquiescence, she continued, “The fact is that there is something I must do and it may require your help.”
He lifted his brows. “You require my help?”
She nodded, even though sound had begun to echo in her ears, including the wild pounding of her heart. “You must recognize how difficult those words are for me to say.”
“I do
,” he said, his voice still filled with astonishment. “Which makes me believe this thing you will ask of me is very important, indeed. Please tell me what it is.”
She swallowed. Had speaking always been this laborious? She could scarcely remember, her mind was so addled by what she was about to say.
“When we went on our picnic to the park in the outskirts of London, do you remember that I mentioned the village I grew up in was a short distance away?”
He nodded. “I do, for I was shocked you would share such a detail with me. You have always been protective of your past.”
She blinked, for she felt like the room was spinning. “I have been and I have reasons for that, I assure you. But being in that place, thinking about my home, has made me want to…go back.”
Actually, that was not true. The last thing she wanted to do was return to that village. But her list included the item “revisit the past”. Until she saw the place where she had grown up, where she had lost everything, where she had experienced the deepest despair of her life, she could not leave London. She could not start over. She had to put the past away, for good.
“You want to see your family?” he asked, brow wrinkling, for she knew he didn’t understand.
She shook her head. “They are gone from there, moved years ago. No, I just want to go back to that place. But it is not going to be a pleasant visit, I fear. And I would like to have a—a friend with me.”
“You consider me your friend,” he said, his tone blank so she couldn’t ascertain what his feelings on that statement were.
She nodded. “Perhaps the one who knows me best,” she whispered and that was the truth.
Even Mariah and Lysandra didn’t have the connection with her that she had somehow allowed with Benedict. It was a weakness, yes, but one her talk with Walter had helped her understand she had to accept, even if it was only for a little while.
Benedict got to his feet and moved toward her. She tensed as she awaited his response and was surprised when he dropped to his knees before her. He reached up and cupped her cheek.
“Vivien, I will go with you anywhere you ask.”
Relief flooded her as she leaned her cheek into the roughness of his palm. All her nervousness fled at that simple touch, replaced by a peacefulness she had never known.
It was a somewhat terrifying prospect that he could draw such complicated and deep feelings from her. Her natural urge to distance herself kicked in and began to overwhelm her earlier surrender to her desire to be near him.
She pulled back. “There will be rules, though, if you go with me.”
He met her stare for a moment and then laughed as though he had expected her retreat as much as he had not expected her surrender.
“Of course there are,” he teased as he pushed to his feet and waved a hand for her to continue. “Please tell me what they are.”
“You must not tell anyone we meet who I am or that I lived there as a girl,” she said.
“Will they not recognize you?” he asked in confusion. “You only left ten years ago.”
She shook her head. “I doubt they will. I wasn’t close to anyone there and I have changed a great deal in my time away from Sapsgate.”
A frown drew her lips down. There was no greater truth than the statement she had just made. She was not the same person at all.
“And what about—?” he began.
She shook her head. “My second request is that you ask me no questions,” she interrupted with as much kindness as she could muster.
He lifted his brows. “So you wish me to come with you but say nothing to anyone we meet and ask you no questions,” he repeated.
She nodded, though when she saw it in those terms, she could understand how cold her request was.
“Yes,” she managed to squeak a bit sheepishly.
“Would you like me to be gagged during our visit?” he asked. “Just to be certain I wouldn’t break these rules?”
She pushed from her chair and moved over to the place he had taken by the fire.
“Oh please don’t be angry, I am not trying to offend. I…” She trailed off as she tried to think of a way to explain her confused and troubled heart to him. “This is not easy for me. But if my rules make it impossible for you to go with me, I do understand and I shall make the trip alone.”
He took her hand and drew her closer. “I want to go with you, even if you will not allow me to actually be of some help to you. When do you wish to go?”
She hesitated. “I would have liked to do it today, but I realize it is past noon now and our start would be too late.”
He nodded, but she could see he continued to be troubled. “I agree. The drive is a few hours and if you want any time to actually look around, do whatever it is you wish to do, you won’t want to be there so late. But if you desire an immediate visit, what about tomorrow?”
Relief flooded her. Tomorrow she would cross this awful duty from her list.
“Yes, tomorrow.”
“I will make the arrangements,” he promised. “But I do have one question.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “But I thought you understood that—”
“Yes, yes,” he interrupted. “Your precious privacy on this subject. If you choose not to answer, that will be your prerogative. But I must know, why do you wish to do this immediately? You left that place ten years ago and only thought of it again recently. Why must you return so suddenly?”
She bit her lip, worrying the tender flesh. She couldn’t explain herself to him. She couldn’t say that she had to do everything on her list because before the end of the summer she would be gone, never to return. If she dared to reveal something so powerful, he would refuse to help her. He would do everything in his power to convince her to stay.
And she couldn’t stay. For his sake as much as her own. It was clear to her now, after the past few intimate days, that he would never move on with his life if she was always there, reminding him that he loved her.
“Benedict, please accept that I simply must do this now. I have no other reason than I wish to do so.”
She held her breath as she watched his face fall in disappointment and frustration. He wanted so much more than she could hope to give.
“Very well,” he finally said softly. “Then you have the rest of your day free.”
He moved to turn away, but she grasped his hand and held fast. “No, I don’t,” she whispered. “You see, if you would be able, I would like to spend the day with you.”
He smiled down at her in surprise. “Would you? And what should we do?”
She could think of a dozen ways to entertain themselves in his bed, but instead she said, “I would like to continue enjoying London. With you.”
He stared down at her, face unreadable, for so long that she feared she might have finally pushed him too far. That she had finally cut him off to the point where he no longer wished to pursue anything deeper with her than the passion that sparked between them.
But then he smiled. And she knew that he was hers, at least for a while longer.
Vauxhall Gardens burst with excitement and the chatter of the Great Waterfall bubbled behind the conversation of other visitors. Benedict smiled as Vivien clutched his elbow, looking around at the beautiful plants and buildings.
For the moment, it felt as though they were nothing but another courting couple, strolling through the gardens, enjoying the dusky end to a perfect day.
“These past few hours have been wonderful,” Vivien breathed, mirroring his own thoughts perfectly. “I believe if I could never see London again, I would be content that I had experienced its best.”
He laughed. “Why would you never be able to see London again?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. Things happen and change, one can never know what will be around the next bend.”
He took a sidelong glance at her. She was so difficult to read. They had been close all day, she had been relaxed and open in ways he had never expe
cted. All it served to do was make him fall even more deeply in love with her, for he could see a future with her.
And yet she still held so much back. Everything that mattered.
“I suppose you are correct that we never know what is about to happen,” he mused, treading carefully as he motioned to a bench where they would have the best view of the fireworks which were to start in a few moments. “Is that the reason why you have made so many decisions lately?”
She did not look at him and slowly slid her hand from the crook of his arm. “I do not think I have made so very many decisions of late.”
He wrinkled his brow. Was she being truthful in that assessment, or merely hiding from him once more?
“There is your sudden desire to learn the city you have live in a third of your life,” he pointed out gently.
She shrugged. “Once I began seeking out the pleasures of London, it became a habit.”
“And it has been mentioned more than once that the number of fetes at your home has been greatly reduced this Season,” he pressed.
She laughed, though the sound was hollow. “I’m certain I am not missed, but my free entertainments and libations are.”
He looked at her closely. She teased, but he could see that she truly believed no one who entered her home had any real feelings for her. A fact with which he did not fully agree. Several people had expressed genuine concern to him about Vivien’s distraction.
“And then there is me,” he continued, his voice soft.
The first explosion of fireworks burst overhead and Vivien jerked her face upward to look at the falling sparkles of colored fire. In the light of the rocket, he could see her drawn-down, sad face and it cut him to the bone.
“You returned to me after three years apart,” he said, taking her hand from her lap and stroking his fingers over the top. “And you have allowed me to be closer to you than ever before. I do not complain about this, but I continue to wonder at your motives. Why now?”
This time, she faced him. Another firework exploded overhead, casting her face in a strange blue glow that did nothing to diminish the seriousness of her expression.
Her Perfect Match: Mistress Matchmaker, Book 3 Page 13
