An Affair with a Spare

by Shana Galen

  Finally, she freed the pin but dropped it on the blue coverlet of the bed. Rafe lifted it before it could be lost and cause one or both of them injury in a few minutes. “Will you allow me?” he asked.

  “To undress me?”

  He nodded.

  “I can do it.”

  He took her hand in his, kissed the pads on her fingers. “I’d rather neither of us ends up as a pin cushion. Besides, you might like my efforts.”

  “Very well,” she said, her voice catching.

  He had undressed many women, more than he cared to remember, and it was a simple matter, but he took his time with her. He liked the anticipation as he revealed each little swath of flesh. He liked the way her bodice sagged with the removal of a pin and the way they clinked when piled on top of one another. Then there were ties and laces and all of the complicated fastenings underpinning a lady’s clothing. Finally, he removed the pretty, little muslin dress and petticoats, and she stood in chemise and stays.

  “Turn around.”

  When she turned, he forced himself to draw a deep breath. He’d needed her to face away from him. She was absolutely glorious. With her breasts barely contained by the stays and the half-moons of creamy flesh within reach, he might have bypassed undressing her at all. He wanted that flesh in his hands and in his mouth.

  And he wanted this to last more than three minutes. And so he would force himself to slow down and take his time. He took hold of her laces and began to loosen them, then slid the stays over her hips. “Untie your chemise,” he whispered in her ear. Brushing her hair aside and over the opposite shoulder, he rested his chin on her shoulder as he watched her tug at the tie holding the drawstring chemise closed.

  And then that too fell to the floor, leaving her in stockings and slippers. He rather liked her wearing that and only that. “That’s better,” he murmured. He trailed his lips over her shoulder and along the back of her neck. Gooseflesh appeared where his lips touched, and she shivered. His hands had been at his sides, but now he brushed them over her shoulders and along her arms, then back up again and down her back. In the firelight, her skin was the color of a blushing rose. Her back was long and straight, her hips a lush curve after what seemed like a tiny waist.

  And her bottom.

  It was full and heart-shaped. He ran a hand over it, loving the way the skin was as silky soft as the rest of her. “You really are perfect, aren’t you?” he said, pressing a kiss to her neck, just behind her ear. She inhaled sharply. He dragged his lips across the back of her neck and, lifting her hair from her shoulder, kissed her behind her other ear.

  “I’m really not,” she said.

  Rafe drew back. He wasn’t used to women arguing with him when he complimented them. Of course, most of the time, those compliments had been part of an act, the opening volley of a seduction that, if successful, would yield useful information for Draven’s troop. Rafe didn’t have to give meaningless compliments tonight, and he hadn’t. Slowly, he turned Collette to face him. Keeping his eyes on hers, he cupped the sides of her face gently. “To me, you’re perfect.”

  Her cheeks turned pinker than they already were. For some reason, the admiration embarrassed her.

  “You mean, other than the fact that I’m a spy.”

  He shrugged. “A small detail that only makes you that much more interesting.” His fingers traced the bones of her cheeks and trailed across her lips, then down her pointed chin and across her long, graceful neck.

  “You’re the perfect one, Rafe,” she said, putting her arms around him. He felt the hard tips of her nipples brushing against his chest.

  “That might be the first time you’ve used my name. I like how it sounds on your tongue.”

  He brought his mouth to hers, kissing her, and she sighed and kissed him back, pressing her body against his. His hands refused to take things slowly, and he couldn’t stop touching her everywhere. Her sighs and moans told him exactly where to linger and where to return, and when his hand slid between her thighs and cupped her, she murmured, “Rafe. Yes.”

  She couldn’t have said anything more arousing. He lowered her to the bed, bracing himself on his elbows to keep his weight from crushing her. She wrapped one leg around his waist, but, though it was torture to wait, he refrained from accepting the invitation. Instead, he ran his lips over every inch of her, stopping to worship at her breasts, which were firm and heavy in his hands. She was damp where his hand had cupped her, but he wanted her unquestionably ready. He dragged his mouth down past her navel, around her hips, over her thighs, then parted her thighs. He was about to taste her when her legs tensed, and she levered herself on her elbows. “What are you doing?”

  He raised a brow. “I was about to kiss you.”

  “There?”

  He almost smiled. He should have realized she’d probably never done this before. A few quick trysts with a tutor had not taught her everything. “Yes.” Using his finger, he traced the sensitive flesh. “Here. And here.” He slid over the small nub hidden between her folds. “And here.”

  Her eyes closed for a moment, then opened very slowly.

  “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

  “If I do like it?” she asked, voice husky with need.

  “Then say my name.” He spread her legs again and kissed a path from her inner thigh to her sex. She jerked at the first touch of his mouth there, and he paused.

  Then he heard her murmur. “Rafe.”

  She tasted sweet, her flesh quivering, and her body responding to every flick of his tongue or caress of his lips. “Rafe,” she said again and again. And when he flicked the small bud that he knew would give her the most pleasure, his name became all but a chant until she fell back on the bed and seemed to lose all power of speech. Rafe could have done this all night. She was glorious on the cusp of ecstasy, her body rising and falling with her rapid breaths, her cheeks pink, her hair a tangle of waves spread over his bed. Her legs were long and all but wrapped around him. He was tempted to start all over again so he could draw her pleasure out further, but he needed to see her climax. He wanted to watch as the coil of pleasure unwound through her body.

  “Rafe,” she said again, her voice a plea.

  He spread her further, teasing and suckling until her hips pistoned beneath his hands. She cried out when she came, the words unintelligible, though he liked to think he heard his name. And then all he could do was stare at her because she was so amazingly beautiful. He wanted to do it all again, do it even better, but his cock had other ideas. Normally he could ignore his own needs, but tonight his cock throbbed to be inside her.

  Of course, that was a risk. He’d protect her at the crucial moment, but there was always a chance of pregnancy. “Collette.” He looked down at her and lifted a lock of hair from her forehead. Her eyes opened slowly, the color of midnight and just as brilliant. “I want to be inside you. I’ll do my best to protect you, but if you don’t want the risk, I understand.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, lifting her arms to wrap around him. “I want you. All of you.”

  “You can say no,” he managed as his willpower began to desert him.

  “I’m saying yes. Rafe, yes.”

  He positioned himself between her legs and kissed her long and slow as he entered her. She was tight and wet and hot. And thank God she was not a virgin because he could barely restrain himself as it was.

  He had the unexpected urge to thrust mindlessly until he found release, and the impulse shocked him. No one had ever made him lose control like this. Her hands scraped down his back and gripped his buttocks. He’d held back slightly, but he couldn’t resist that invitation and sheathed himself completely. Her head fell back on a moan and he gritted his jaw to hold on to what little power he still had over himself. Taking her arms, he slid them up and pinned her wrists to the bed with his hands. With her arms over her head, her breasts thru
st out, and he took his time teasing her distended nipples, suckling them until she was grinding her hips against his.

  She wanted him to move faster and harder, but he kept up a slow, deep penetration that from the tightening of her muscles around him would bring her to a deliberate, powerful climax. She’d kept her eyes closed, her lashes fluttering with each of his thrusts, but as he began to move a little faster, she opened her eyes and her gaze fixed on his. The intimacy of that moment was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He felt a zing of connection and all but heard the click of a lock inside him open. He wanted to look away, wanted to break the hold she had on him. Her eyes seemed to look right into him, into the part of him he’d never let anyone see—the part that wasn’t a charming gentleman, but a boy who desperately wanted to be loved.

  And then there was the shot of guilt because he wasn’t the hero she thought him to be. He’d manipulated her into telling him her secrets, and though he hadn’t seduced her into his bed, he was fully aware that, if she knew about his mission, she wouldn’t be here with him. They were enemies, but he was the only one who knew it.

  Her eyes drew him in, trusting and honest. And then, because he couldn’t take it any longer, he shifted position, turning her onto her belly and lifting her hips so he could enter her. “Collette?” he asked, waiting for her permission. He ran a hand over her bottom, then kissed the pale flesh and eased a hand over her slick, swollen sex. She wriggled her bottom and he slid his cock over the flesh he’d teased with his hand. She gasped.

  “Rafe.” She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes glittering with excitement. When he entered her again, he took his time as much for himself as for her. She moved with him, her hands digging into the coverlet as her pleasure mounted. When he felt her body tighten, he reached around and opened her folds. Finding the slippery nub, he circled it slowly until she bucked and her muscles clenched around him tightly.

  And that was when he lost control. His hips moved on their own, his body taking what it wanted, with hard, deep thrusts. He had enough mental capacity left to pull out before he spilled his seed inside her. Instead, he spilled it harmlessly onto the coverlet.

  His valet would have something to say about that. At the moment, Rafe didn’t care. He pulled Collette into his arms and onto the other side of the bed, holding her for a long moment until he could catch his breath and perhaps understand what the hell had just happened.

  * * *

  Collette felt Rafe’s arms come around her, pulling her against him so their bodies were pressed together, her back to his chest. Her body still sung, weak and limp from the things he had done to her. She hadn’t known lovemaking could be like that. She hadn’t known she could feel like that. Yes, she’d enjoyed it before, but Rafe was… She didn’t even have the words.

  Perhaps that was because the experience had been more than physical. Yes, his skills there were probably unrivaled. Even inexperienced as she was, she knew he was a man with tremendous patience and sensitivity. He knew when to hold back, when to move faster, when and where to touch her. He’d been so focused on her, so attuned to her every breath, that when he withdrew, she couldn’t help but notice. Something had happened when their gazes had locked that had… What was the word? Unsettled him?

  No, she hadn’t minded the way he’d flipped her over or the way he’d taken her from behind. But she’d had the smallest flicker of doubt niggle her brain. And for the first time, she’d wondered if he didn’t have something to hide.

  He kissed her shoulder, the stubble on his cheek tickling her. “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

  “Because we were friends,” she reminded him.

  “I’m still your friend.” He kissed her ear. “And as such, I should take you home. It’s almost two.”

  She only had about three hours before Lady Ravensgate’s servants would be up and her absence noticed. But she couldn’t stand to leave the warmth of his arms yet. She’d felt so alone the past few months. For once, it was comforting to feel as though she didn’t have to carry the entire weight of the Napoleonic army on her shoulders. And, of course, it helped that the shoulders bearing some of it were muscled and strong.

  “Let me regain my strength,” she murmured. He didn’t object, merely gave his acquiescence with another lazy kiss on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, warmth tingling through her as he ran a hand through her hair, down her back, then fondled her breast. His movements were languid and easy, but they roused her nonetheless. When her nipple hardened against his palm, she felt his sex respond in kind against her buttocks.

  “You like that,” he murmured in her ear, rolling the pebbled point between his fingers and squeezing gently. She gasped out a breath. And then his hand repeated the gesture on her other breast and she felt an answering tug of need in her belly. His hand slid down, his fingers brushing over her sex. She heard herself moan with pleasure, but she couldn’t seem to find the energy to be mortified at what she was allowing. Again.

  His finger stroked over that little nub that made her whole body purr, and then he skated lower and slipped inside her. A second finger joined the first, while the heel of his hand pressed against that nub. Her hips moved with the seductive rhythm he played, and she felt him grow harder against her skin. “Lie still.” His voice was a rumble through the haze of pleasure engulfing her. “You don’t have to do anything.”

  But she didn’t want to lie still. She felt as though she’d spent her whole life lying still and allowing others to dictate her life. Now she would take what she wanted, and she wanted him. She grasped his wrist with her hand, and he paused. “You don’t want this.”

  Still holding his wrist, she turned and pushed it onto the bed. “I do, but I want more. Let me show you.” At some point, she had lost her slippers. She straddled him and watched as his throat worked. His eyes skimmed down her body, and he licked his lips. She knew he wanted her, knew he desired her. She took the evidence of that with one hand and stroked its length. Rafe closed his eyes and his legs tensed beneath her. She suddenly understood why he seemed to enjoy giving her pleasure so much. It was heady to see the power she had to stoke his desire.

  She rose and positioned herself above his erection. He opened his eyes and she could see he fought to stop himself from wresting control back. The hand she held clenched and opened. “Please,” he murmured.

  She took him inside her, moving her hips until she found a rhythm she liked. He watched her and moved with her, complemented her. She linked her fingers with his on the bed, leaning over him as their bodies came together again and again. This time, though he might have taken her breast into his mouth or used his strength to shift positions, he didn’t look away from her. “You’re close,” he said.

  She didn’t know how he knew. She could barely answer. Her body demanded release, but it eluded her. “Yes.”

  “Stop waiting for it,” he said. “Take it.”

  She shook her head, not knowing what he meant. “Touch me,” she all but begged, releasing his hands and leaning back. If he simply touched her, she knew she would come apart.

  “Oh, no. It will be better if you take it. Claim it.”

  “I can’t!”

  “You can. Christ, you’re beautiful.” His eyes raked over her again. “I want to watch you come.”

  Her hips moved faster, her body using his to reach higher. But just as she felt insecurity or modesty, he gave her another compliment, another encouragement. She knew he was close as well. His hands gripped hers more tightly, and his voice had become a husky rumble. Her own words had deserted her and she moaned as she slid over his hard length one last time. And then the whole world seemed to go black as everything inside her unraveled. She cried out, and either he broke their grip or she did, because he pressed his hand against her sex and then the world went white hot as her climax climbed higher. She bucked and took until the pleasure ebbed, and then he slid out from un
der her and she heard his gasp of pleasure as he spent himself into the coverlet.

  She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t expected that even at her most vulnerable, even at the moment when she had clearly been using him, he would protect her. Her heart lurched and the lump in her throat made it difficult to breathe. She lay back on the bed, and when he turned to look down at her, she was rendered completely breathless. His violet eyes looked sleepy and seductive, his mouth was fuller from their kisses, and his hair was wild about his face. And, of course, he was still completely and magnificently naked.

  “Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and you will never make it home tonight.”

  “I can’t quite believe I’m here with you.”

  He sat beside her and brushed the hair back from her forehead. “I feel exactly the same. How did we get so lucky?”

  She smiled up at him and he bent to kiss her, then stopped himself. “If we begin this again, I’m afraid you have no hope of returning to Lady Ravensgate’s undetected. As much as I want you to stay, I really must take you home.”

  She nodded. The look of regret on his face was real. He did want her to stay as much as she wanted to stay.

  “Do you need help dressing?” he asked.

  “No.” She’d had to dress herself earlier that night and had chosen clothing she could manage on her own. They both rose and he pulled his trousers on, then padded to the door.

  “I’ll bring us some wine and cheese. I haven’t even fed you.”

  “There’s no need,” she said as she pulled the chemise over her head. But he waved away her protests and was gone. Alone, she smiled to herself. She should have been telling herself not to fall in love with him. She knew she wasn’t the first woman he’d brought to his bed or probably even the first he’d wanted to stay the night. But was she wrong to believe that, when he said the words to her, he’d meant them?