He cradled her breast, kneading it gently, flicking his tongue over her nipple until it peaked, then lowering his mouth to it. She might have been embarrassed by her moan if he hadn’t groaned. He shifted until he was nestled between her thighs, his stomach pressed against the most intimate part of her.
“I can’t reach you,” she bemoaned.
“Preservation, sweetheart.” He kissed the inside of her breast, the underside. “I was on the verge of going mad … and embarrassing myself.”
“Venus said sometimes she touches a man and he spills his seed right then and there. Is that what you mean by embarrassing yourself?”
“Mmm.” He licked his way down her ribs. “But tonight is about pleasuring you.”
“I want us both pleasured.”
“You first.” He nipped at her hip. It tickled more than hurt.
“For that to happen, I need your cock, though, don’t I?”
He gave her a deliciously wicked and sensual smile. “I have a very talented tongue.”
He slid down farther, blew on her curls. She couldn’t believe his face was right there, between her thighs. Raising her knees, she placed her soles on his back, tangled her fingers in his hair. With the tip of his finger, he parted her most intimate lips. “You are so wet.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“You find that funny?”
“Somerdale said I was as sweet as sugar and would melt if I got wet.”
“Oh, you’re going to melt … into a pool of burning desire.” He lowered his mouth and proceeded to demonstrate that he did indeed have a most clever tongue.
Of their own accord, her hips tilted up, offering her very essence to him. He feasted, sending sensation after sensation roiling through her. She’d never felt anything so sublime. Venus hadn’t told her about this, hadn’t told her that pleasure was a whirlwind of escalating awareness. Throughout her body, nerve endings tingled—even areas to which he wasn’t giving his utmost attention. Oh, but those that he was …
She couldn’t hold back the sighs and moans. Her head pressed back into the pillow, even as she wanted to curl forward. The intimacy he demonstrated nearly caused her to come undone. She couldn’t imagine allowing any other man to lick and suckle there. Him, all she wanted was him, doing things he shouldn’t.
She loved that about him, that he taught her the wickedest things, didn’t consider her too innocent or proper to know what transpired between men and women. That he brought her close to a peak, nearly brought her out of her mind.
Her entire body wanted to clamp around him, hold him close, prevent him from taking her further into the realm of pleasure. The escalating tide frightened her. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, but if she was going to make this journey toward ultimate fulfillment, she wanted to make it with him.
She felt as though she’d been cast adrift on an ocean tide, ebbing and flowing, then she was riding the crest, crying out as her back arched, she held him close with her fingers, her thighs, any part of her that could reach him, touch him.
He stilled. Breathing heavily, she collapsed onto the bed, stared at the canopy, striving to regain some semblance of control.
He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. Glancing down, she captured and held his gaze. “I want you inside me.”
Easing up, he left a trail of kisses in his wake until he was looking down on her. “No. I won’t ruin you, Gina.”
Desperately, she cradled his face between her hands. “It’s not fair for you to witness me coming completely undone. I want—need—to know you are as affected.”
He lowered his mouth to the underside of her jaw. “I’ll give you a bit, just a bit.”
Shifting, he began rubbing his cock over her little, but extremely sensitive, bud. She reveled in the hardness and his heat reigniting her, his groan. The wonder of it, the closeness, the intimacy. He repositioned himself, and she was aware of the head of his cock poised against her opening. It wasn’t enough.
She wiggled.
“Don’t.” The word came out terse. “I only want to feel you for a moment.” More gently, more sweetly.
“I’m a terrible wanton. I won’t object if you go further.”
“Your husband will.”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the reminder, the affirmation, that he wouldn’t marry her. If forced to give a name to their relationship, she couldn’t. More than friends, not quite lovers. Later she would mourn what couldn’t be between them, but not now. Opening her eyes, she dragged her fingers up and down his back, felt the tenseness in his firm muscles. Working her hand between their bodies, she wrapped her fingers around him and began to stroke the length of him.
His groan echoing pure torment made her giddy. Burying his face against her neck, he wrapped his arms around her, held her close. His breaths quickened, his moans increased. With a low growl, he jerked away from her opening, and hot fluids coated her palm.
He went still, so still. With her free hand, she scraped her fingers along his scalp and held him in the curve of her shoulder, wondering if she’d ever again know such contentment.
It was inconceivable to him that he could know such satisfaction without a complete taking of her. But he did.
He’d loved watching her climax. When she’d asked for more from him, how could he not give it?
Already hovering on the precipice, he’d known it wouldn’t take much. The hardest thing he’d ever done was not to push forward and bury himself to the hilt in that lovely wet and heated notch. He suspected one thrust would have had his seed pouring forth. But he would not dishonor her, would not do anything to lessen her chances of marriage with a titled gentleman.
“As much as I am loath to leave this bed, we must get you back into my parents’ residence.”
“I know. Andrew—”
He touched his finger to her lips when he desperately wanted to put his mouth there. “It’s best if we not say anything more. Tonight’s adventure needs to come to a close.”
She nodded. “I shall never forget it.”
His worry was that he wouldn’t either, or worse: she had spoiled him for anyone else.
Within the confines of the carriage, Gina snuggled against Andrew’s side, with his arm securely around her shoulders. If their journey never ended, if they never reached his parents’ residence, she would be forever content.
He’d assisted her in putting on her clothing—even though it was still damp. He’d brushed and braided her hair. Because there had been no vanity in the room, she’d been unable to study his reflection in a mirror as he administered to her needs while she sat on the bed, but she knew she’d always remember the gentleness with which he’d tidied the strands. He made her feel treasured, protected, loved.
Which was silly. He didn’t love her. She didn’t delude herself into thinking he did. She was a bit of fun for the night. He was always game for fun.
It was in his nature. She’d taken advantage, but she didn’t regret it.
“Is it different with every woman?” she asked softly.
He drew her in closer against his side. “The mechanics are very much the same, but the details—her fragrance, the silkiness of her skin, the small sounds she makes—differ.”
“So you’ll have memories that are unique to me, to no one else.”
His mouth pressed to the top of her head. “You will always stand apart, Gina.”
“Is it difficult to be with someone else … after you’ve been with someone?”
“If you’re thinking of the man you’ll marry—you’ll love him, you’ll want to be with him, you’ll desire an even greater intimacy than what we shared—and everything about me will fade away.”
She very much doubted that.
“As it should,” he said quietly, his tone reflecting regret and sorrow.
“I doubt I’ll forget my first.”
“It was only a partial first.”
Still she’d never before known such pleasure, pas
sion, or desire.
The carriage came to a halt, but he didn’t immediately release his hold on her. She took some comfort in that, that the parting was as difficult for him as it was for her.
When the door opened, he slowly extricated himself from around her, stepped out, then handed her down. He didn’t release his hold on her hand, but held firm as they walked up the steps. Once they reached the door, he didn’t hesitate to take her in his arms and kiss her.
Deeply, thoroughly, hungrily, as though he were a man being offered his last meal.
She didn’t want to contemplate that she would never again feel his lips on hers, his tongue sliding over hers. Instead she focused on every nuance, on committing them all to memory. He would not fade, time spent with him would never fade. Eventually she would have to close her heart off to him in order to open it up to someone else. Determined not to live her life without love, she would find a way to carry on, to survive without a man who stirred so many incredible sensations and frightening emotions within her.
He brought her so much joy and happiness, but in the end he would break her heart, because he could not—would not—love her. Because he wanted a life without entanglements and responsibilities. He was someone with whom she could have fun and excitement but not a future. She was going to be grateful for the minutes she had with him and not mourn the time she didn’t.
Drawing back, he held her gaze, stroked his fingers over her cheek. “You deserve a man who can love you with all his heart.”
And he couldn’t, thanks to one stupid, obnoxious woman she didn’t even know. “I hope someday you will learn to love again. You deserve to be happy.”
He grinned. “I am happy.”
He unlocked the door, opened it, peered inside. “All is quiet.” Stepping back, he placed a final kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Gina. Enjoy the Waverly ball this evening.”
She almost told him she’d skip it if he wanted to enjoy another adventure with her, but the Season was nearing its end and if she didn’t want to be on the marriage block next year, she needed to attend every social engagement to which she was invited. “I’m rather certain I will. Your sister is chaperoning me, and will provide me with an introduction to any lord I haven’t already met. Not that there are many anymore. Which is quite a relief. For a time there, I feared the fault for the gents’ lack of interest rested more with me rather than Tillie’s scandal.”
“You could never be at fault.”
“Scandal has such dire consequences.”
“Which is the very reason you need to pop inside before we’re spotted.”
He was correct, even though she wanted to stay out here with him until the lark sang. “Good night, Andrew.” Rising up on her toes, she brushed a quick kiss across his bristled chin before dashing into the residence.
He closed the door, and she hurried up the stairs to her room. Each adventure with him was better than the last. It saddened her to know they’d soon be coming to an end.
Chapter 10
It was an odd thing, the following evening, to dance with an assortment of gentlemen at the Waverly ball, while maintaining the appearance of innocence. Gina was rather stupefied that none noticed she’d recently been consumed by passion. Pleasure was still radiating from her, her skin was sensitive to the touch, her limbs were at once lethargic and energized.
While she’d managed to slip into the residence without anyone the wiser, she rather wished she had been caught, but Andrew would resent her for that, would resent her forcing him into marriage. He loved having the life of a bachelor. She couldn’t live with herself if she stole that away from him.
So her only recourse for marriage involved welcoming the attentiveness of one of the gentlemen who now approached her with such ease. She might have favored them more had they, like Somerdale, sought her out while she lived beneath the shroud of scandal. While the earl’s devotion had been relatively subtle, at least he’d not shied completely away from her. However, if he ever learned of her recent scandalous behavior, he’d no doubt scamper for the hills. Not that she’d blame him.
Although she did think it unfair that men could seek out pleasure before marriage and women couldn’t. It had been so lovely she nearly burst into song whenever she thought about it—which was far too often. Fortunately, the gents thought it was their skill at dancing that caused her bright smile.
Lord Benson was her present partner. He was exceedingly graceful but not nearly as graceful at Andrew. She rather wished he was here tonight, not only to share a dance but the entirety of the evening. She missed him, and while she knew it wasn’t wise, she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“I preferred your earlier smile to your present frown,” Lord Benson said.
Heat warmed her face. “My apologies. My mind drifted off to where it shouldn’t.”
“That does not bode well for my courtship.”
Was he courting her? He’d yet to call on her, but he had sent flowers.
“I realize I have not been that attentive, but when your sister returns, I intend to call upon you—if you have no objections.”
“None whatsoever. It would be lovely.”
“When does she return?”
“Not for a few more days, although you are welcome to call on me at the Greystone residence.”
He grinned. “I shall do so.”
The music wafted into silence, and he escorted her from the dance floor to an area where several ladies were sitting.
“I shall count the minutes until I can call on you on the morrow,” Lord Benson said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her gloved knuckles.
“I look forward to it.”
With a quick bow, he strode away.
“You know he’ll be taxing his brain to count that high,” a deep, masculine voice said from behind her, the richness of it shimmering up her spine.
Gina swung around. Her heart hammered within her chest. Andrew stood there in his black swallow-tailed coat, pristine white shirt, and cravat. “That was rather unkind.”
“He would make you miserable.”
She didn’t want to discuss Lord Benson or his suitability. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I changed my mind.”
“I do wish I’d known. I’d have saved a dance for you. As it is, my card is full.”
“When is your waltz with Lord Manville?”
Although she had told him at the Twin Dragons that Manville had claimed a dance, she hadn’t specified it would be a waltz. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking how he knew the particulars, although secretly she was rather pleased he’d gone to the trouble to find out. “Next actually. I must find him.”
“He’s in the card room where he was foolish enough to wager away his waltz with you.”
It was ridiculous how giddy his words made her because she suspected she knew the answer to the question she was on the verge of asking. “To whom did he lose the wager?”
“Me.” He held out his gloved hand.
She placed her hand in his. “I do hope you didn’t cheat.”
His fingers closing around hers, he gave her a sultry grin. “You’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”
She would have been. Shame on her.
Just as the orchestra started the next tune, he led her onto the dance floor. Once she was secure in his arms, gliding over the polished wood, she asked, “Did you really cheat?”
“I always cheat when the wager involves something I don’t wish to lose.”
“You wanted to dance with me.”
“It’s the only reason I’m here.”
“I wasn’t certain we’d have any more adventures.”
“One small one—in a room filled with people—can’t hurt. Besides I wanted to ensure you were all right.” His gaze held hers, intently searching, as though he sought to uncover all the secrets held in her heart and soul. “Last night shouldn’t have happened. I feared this morning you might have awoken with regrets.”
/>
Difficult to awaken when she hadn’t slept. “No regrets. Although you could have called on me to get your answers.”
“My parents are turning out to be terrible chaperones. I believe I mentioned earlier the safety of a room filled with people.”
Glancing around, keeping her voice low, she dared to ask, “Do you have regrets?”
“Nary a one. But I’m not the one seeking marriage.”
No, he wasn’t, while she was. “Do you know what I find most fascinating? Outwardly nothing about me changed. No one looking at me seems to have a clue regarding the naughty things I’ve done.”
“And inwardly?”
His eyes held concern. She wanted to see him smile, hear him laugh. “There are some changes. How could there not be? A person can’t unknow what she knows. I look at my suitors tonight, at each dance partner, and imagine far more intimate encounters.”
His fingers jerked around hers, tightened. His brow furrowed. “What exactly do you imagine?”
“Different things.”
“Do they please you?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to imagine something that wouldn’t please me.” She chuckled. “Don’t look so disgruntled. None can compare to you.”
He shook his head, relaxed his face. “But I want them to. For you, I want them to be better than me.”
“I don’t know that there’s better or worse. I suspect there will just be different.”
“Words of wisdom from Venus, I assume.”
She smiled. “She might have mentioned something along those lines. I’ve had a most educational few nights since Tillie’s departure. They shall stand me in good stead.”
Finally, he gave her a devilish grin. “I’m sure they will.”
They spoke no more as he swept her into the fray. She wished all her remaining dances belonged to him. She loved the way he held her, the way he watched her, the way they moved in tandem. She suspected once she was married, he’d never dance with her again. Oh, their paths would cross during family gatherings. They would be polite, cordial, but there would be no heated glances, no passions stirring beneath the surface.
Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses Page 9
