Her bare feet barely made any sound on the Axminster carpet, but her gasp did when she rounded the curtained bed and discovered Randolph practically filling the bed.
She hadn’t realized just how large the man was.
“Are you... comfortable?” she asked in a whisper.
His eyes were closed, and he was lying on his side, facing the fire. Facing her.
“I am,” he murmured sleepily. “This mattress is heavenly.”
Xenobia blinked. Never having slept in this particular bed, she was relieved to know her guest was comfortable. Before she moved to join him, she was trying to decide how best to do so when he whispered, “Just back up, lie down, and I’ll pull you against me.”
Following his instructions, Xenobia still let out a squeak when his massive arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her against him. He moved back on the bed as he did so, and she was suddenly engulfed in warmth from below and behind and around her waist. The hand at the end of the arm settled against one of her breasts.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked in a whisper, his voice coming from over the top of her head.
Xenobia did her best to relax, despite how she sensed his knees had bent into the back of hers, that her bottom was resting into the bend of his body, and that his chest was at her back.
And then there was that huge hand that cupped her breast in blessed warmth.
“I am. I do hope I’m not causing you a chill.”
The bed vibrated with his chuckle. “Another few minutes, and you will be warm enough to sleep,” he promised in a whisper that was barely there.
“I apologize. This is probably not what you were expecting to be doing this afternoon,” she murmured.
Randolph’s eyes remained closed. If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have lifted his head onto a hand and attempted to make eye contact with her. “I had no expectation,” he finally replied. “So this is heavenly.”
Although she had no intention of napping, Xenobia relaxed into his hold. That afternoon’s jaunt in the fresh air had her more sleepy than she thought, and she closed her eyes. “Stay as long as you can,” she whispered.
He angled his head so his chin rested atop her coiffure. “When I awake, will you still be here?”
Xenobia inhaled softly. “I will.” She imagined the dimple appearing in his cheek, this time deeper. Curious, she turned over to face him. In the dim light from the candle lamp, she grinned as she reached out and touched it.
“You needn’t be lonely any longer,” he murmured.
For a moment, Xenobia was sure he was going to kiss her. His lips were that close. She already knew how they would feel pressed against hers—firm and commanding, delicious and demanding. “I suppose you say that to all the widows,” she whispered, gently chiding him.
He shook his head in the pillow. “Actually, I’ve never said it before.” Lowering his lips to her forehead, he pressed them against her cool skin and held them there for a moment. When he pulled away, her face lifted. He was sure her eyes darkened, sure he saw desire.
His lips were on hers in an instant, molding to the soft pillows that had begun to form a response he effectively silenced. When she didn’t protest, he deepened the kiss at the same time he tightened his hold on her.
He had never been in the company of one so beautiful.
So broken.
He knew why, of course. He almost wished the late baron was still alive so that he might pound the cur to a bloody pulp.
But then Dunsworth would still be alive, and Xenobia would still be married and unavailable for this moment.
Xenobia allowed her body to mold against the front of his, her curves filling his voids until the two appeared as one beneath the counterpane.
Her response to his kiss could only be described as hungry, especially when one of her hands lifted to the side of his head while the other gripped a shoulder. When a slight moan sounded from the back of her throat, he gently pulled away but left his forehead pressed against hers. “I apologize. I’ve—”
“Don’t you dare,” she countered, her hoarse whisper barely sounding above the crackling fire. One of her hands touched his chest, and quickly pulled away, as if it had been burned.
He furrowed a brow. “Then I shan’t,” he murmured, as he grasped her hand in his and placed it against his chest, holding it over hers so it couldn’t escape.
“Were you... were you planning to make love to me?” she asked, her whisper sounding loud in her ears. “When you came for me today?”
“I was not,” he whispered, his arms tensing in anticipation of what she might do. He lifted his head at exactly the same time the flames in the fireplace increased in intensity, and the curtained bed was suddenly bathed in bright light. For a moment, his face was lit up in a golden glow, as was his bare chest. Everything below was covered by bed linens, but it was apparent he wore little if anything.
Xenobia’s eyes widened and she gasped “Are you... are you naked?”
“I am.”
Settling back into the mattress, he pulled her back against the front of his body and allowed a grin when he realized she no longer felt cold. Her heart was certainly racing, though.
Despite his hardening cock, he was asleep before his head was settled into the pillow.
An Awakening
A while later
The sound of a soft snore had Xenobia slowly opening her eyes. A heavy weight around her waist had her pinned to the bed, and the warmth at her back reminded her there was a man in her bed.
A naked man.
She could feel the hard planes of his chest against her upper back, his powerful thighs against the back of hers. In between, there was something else that was hard and pressed against her bottom.
Attempting to shift her hips in order to relieve the pressure, she stilled her entire body when it instead moved beneath the mounds of her bottom and came to rest between the tops of her thighs. Only the silk of the banyan separated her quim from what she realized was his engorged member.
She was unprepared for her body’s reaction.
Arousal.
Desire.
Heat flooded her lower body. The space at the top of her thighs seemed to throb with need. Almost too warm, she spread open the top of the banyan’s collar, baring her shoulders.
Embarrassed but intrigued, she reached back with one arm until her hand slid onto Randolph’s body. The bare skin, even warmer than her hand, was smooth. She slid her fingers down, not sure of what she was touching.
Hips? Thighs?
The arm around her waist lifted, and his hand moved to cover hers, essentially ceasing its attempt at exploration. Randolph lifted himself onto an elbow and leaned over her.
“I did not mean to scandalize you, Xenobia,” he whispered, just before he lowered his lips to her bare shoulder. With the banyan open, the top edge of its collar had slipped down her arm.
Allowing a prim smile, Xenobia found she rather liked how he said Xenobia. She remembered the shock she had felt at learning he was naked, though. Remembered how he had simply tucked her against his body and then fallen asleep.
“I am not in the habit of wearing anything to bed, and I could not afford to allow my shirt to wrinkle since I must wear it this evening.”
“I am a grown woman,” she countered. “I cannot believe that at my age, I have never seen a naked man, but—”
“You never saw your husband naked?” he half-asked, rising further on his elbow at the same time he bent a knee to better support his position on the bed.
Xenobia noticed how the bed linens slipped further down his body. “James always wore a nightshirt when he came to my bed.”
This bit of information had Randolph blinking. “So... you’ve never seen a man’s... member?” he whispered in disbelief.
“Only if you count the statuary in the British Museum.”
Randolph frowned. “I do not,” he replied. “For one thing, they’re all a bit on the small side, and for another,
none of them are... aroused.”
Xenobia’s eyes widened. “Is yours?”
He let out his breath in a huff. “It has been since the moment you came to bed.” He placed his hand over hers and led it down to where his erection was hidden just below the edge of the bed linens.
At first tempted to pull her hand from his, Xenobia found she didn’t want to as the warmth of his hand surrounded hers.
Once he had her hand over the engorged shaft, curiosity had her touching the smooth, warm skin that felt as if it were stretched taut over bone. His hand released hers, although his fingers still rested on her wrist.
She heard his inhalation of breath when her fingers slid down the shaft to a nest of crisp hair and then back up the other side. “It feels like velvet,” she murmured in appreciation.
Randolph had to suppress a growl when she continued to explore, and then he finally wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. “I want nothing more than to make love to you right now,” he whispered.
Her eyes widening, Xenobia said, “I was afraid you would never offer. What do I need to—?” She let out a squeak when she found herself flat on her back and Randolph hovering over the top of her.
“You need do nothing. Just... lie back, and do not stop me.”
Xenobia gasped as she felt one of his hands slide the banyan off of one breast as his head lowered to hers. His kiss on her lips was quick but thorough before he trailed his lips down her jaw to her neck and then to her throat.
His tongue delved into the hollow there before moving lower, to follow the contours of her collarbones and then to the top of a breast. His fingers moved to undo the banyan’s tie, and soon her other breast was exposed to his hot mouth.
“Breathe, Xenobia. I should not want you to faint when I have so much more pleasure to bestow on you.”
Xenobia did as she was told, which had her breasts rising, one of them right into his mouth. His lips surrounded her nipple, and his tongue laved over the hardened bud until she whimpered.
He moved his attentions to the other, spending a moment taking in the sight of her pink areola and the puckered nipple in the middle. “You have the most beautiful breasts,” he murmured, just before he took possession of the nipple.
“I do?” she whispered. “You don’t think them... too—”
“No,” he replied before his mouth greedily continued its exploration, while his hands pushed the banyan’s edges apart. The entire front of her body was exposed, her skin warm and tingling.
Xenobia felt sure he would enter her then. She bent her knees, stunned when they felt rubbery. Shaky. But his body continued to move down, his head following until it was between her thighs.
James had never done this.
She inhaled sharply. “Rand!” she managed to get out in a hoarse whisper when she realized his tongue had penetrated her body. Had begun circling her womanhood. Was making the throbbing she felt at the top of her thighs far more pronounced.
Her hands reached down, her fingers spearing his dark hair in an effort to find something to hang onto just as his lips joined his tongue in providing a pleasure that was as sweet as it was torturous.
And then the pleasure deepened and sharpened. She was blinded by white spots and left whimpering, doing her best not to scream lest she alert the entire household she was in residence.
“You taste of heaven,” Randolph growled before he reappeared above her, his face a study in contrasts. Determination mixed with happiness.
And then he was inside her. Filling her with that velvet rod. Pulling it out a bit and then settling it deeper inside her.
She knew to lift her hips then. To grip his hips with her thighs, which had him murmuring something that sounded like a cross between a blessing and a curse.
Xenobia was unprepared for what happened then. The wave of pleasure that seemed to pass through her lower body had her holding onto him more tightly, just as he was attempting to pull himself back out of her body.
He groaned and quickly pushed himself back in, which only amplified the sensations Xenobia felt.
Pleasure.
Intense pleasure, followed by rolling waves of it that seemed to continue faster as his thrusts into her quickened.
She wasn’t aware she made any sounds, but her breaths were suddenly loud in her ears, as was the word, “Yes!” she didn’t remember thinking.
When his body seized and he stopped his movements, his face contorted into what appeared to be pain, Xenobia knew what to expect next. She thrilled at the sensation of warmth that flooded her lower body as her hands gripped his shoulders. When his arms seemed as if they could no longer hold him up, she guided him down to her body. Wrapping her arms around his back, she allowed a sigh of contentment.
His head settled into the space above one of her shoulders, and she felt his heavy breaths on her heated skin. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you are in ecstasy?”
She inhaled and let out the breath slowly. “Having never experienced it before, I have absolutely no idea,” she whispered.
He stilled in her arms and lifted his head, his gaze topped with a troubled brow. “On the one hand, I could pity you. But on the other, I am feeling rather proud of myself,” he murmured.
Xenobia allowed a brilliant smile. “When we do this again, I wish to be naked. Like you,” she whispered. “Does that scandalize you?”
Randolph blinked. “Why, yes, it does,” he replied, as a grin brought the dimple to the base of his cheek. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. When he pulled away, his arms seemed to lose all their strength. “Apologies, my lady, but I must...” He rolled off of her body, but managed to grasp her around the middle so that he pulled her atop one side of his body as he settled onto the bed. “Sleep.”
Xenobia wondered how he could think of sleep just then. Her entire body thrummed with excitement. Thrummed with sensations she had never before experienced.
Her head ended up in the small of his shoulder, and she reveled in the warmth and feel of his pulse beneath her ear.
She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the crisp curls beneath her fingertips. One leg slid between his, and she grinned at the thought of what rested against the top of her thigh.
She thought of all the years she could have been enjoying these sensations if only James hadn’t treated her as a best friend and instead had treated her as his wife.
His lover.
Would Randolph be her lover now?
She closed her eyes and thought of what it might be like to have him in her bed every night.
Just before she fell asleep, Xenobia thought of Julia. The night before, she had been ready to curse her best friend. Now she was trying to decide what gift she might buy for her as a sort of ‘thank you’ for having sent Randolph Roderick to her door.
An Interesting Evening Ensues
Bradley House, seven o’clock in the evening
When Randolph awoke with a start, he held his breath while he tried to determine where he was, who was clinging to one side of his body, and what time it might be.
The bed curtains surrounding him on three sides explained the darkness. The scent of a guttering candle lamp accounted for the dim light that seemed to waver to his right.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Xenobia whispered.
The events of that afternoon came flooding back, and Randolph let out the breath he’d been holding. “Why did you leave the bed?”
Xenobia, now settled against his right side, smoothed a hand over his chest. “I had to use the chamber pot,” she whispered. She didn’t add that she had really just wanted to wash her nether region and rid herself of the banyan that had been bunched up around her middle.
Randolph’s body acted as a much more efficient heat source than the fireplace, which was barely glowing from the lumps of coal Randolph had placed when he set the fire earlier.
He turned on his side to face her. “I don’t suppose you noticed the time?” he asked in a hoarse whisp
er.
“Seven o’clock,” she murmured, as she smoothed her hand down his side to his hip.
“I must take my leave.” He didn’t want to move, though. Didn’t want to give up the comfortable bed and the warm, soft body that nestled against his and smelled faintly of flowers.
“I don’t want you to go, but I understand if you must. You’re welcome to return when you have completed your work for the night.”
Randolph cleared his throat. “My lady, I fear we may have already scandalized your servants—”
“Oh, I hope so. They could do with some excitement.”
Furrowing a brow, Randolph regarded his hostess for a moment until he saw she was grinning. “For a moment, I thought you were quite serious.”
“For a moment, I was, but I rather doubt they even know we’re here.” After a pause, she added, “I do not want you leaving under cover of darkness, as if we’ve... as if we’ve done something tawdry.”
Her hand had moved down to wrap around his tumescence, and he sucked in a breath as she squeezed.
“If you are not careful, I shall lay claim to you again,” he warned, as if he thought his words would have her cowering.
They only made her more bold, though, for she lifted her lips to his and kissed him.
Randolph had her up and over the top of him, forcing her to straddle him. He trailed the backs of his fingers down the front of her body, their tips setting off frissons of pleasure in their wake. When they reached her mons, he was stunned to find she was already wet, her honeyed folds opening as his thumb sought her womanhood.
The nubbin was already swollen, and when he circled it with the tip of his thumb, he thrilled at hearing her sharp intake of breath, at seeing her chest rise and her breasts quake. Desperate for his own release, he slid his thumb over her womanhood and pressed it.
He was about to apologize for the cheat. He knew her resulting pleasure was sharp and quick, almost painful, as opposed to the slow, rolling pleasure she would have felt had he taken his time with his ministrations.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 22
