Regency Wolfe: A de Wolfe Pack Connected World collection of Victorian and Regency Tales

by Mary Lancaster

  “Tessa? I want to show you how much I care for you. How much I want you.” He lowered his hand to the flare of her hip, the intimacy of his touch catching her breath as he made his meaning clear. “Will you let me?”

  Her heart thundered in her chest as she drew back to look into his eyes. Never before had she been tempted to give herself to a man. Did she dare? The risks were many, but she’d never wanted anything so much.

  She licked her lips, trying to think this through, to make certain this was the right decision.

  “Will you trust me?” he asked.

  Chapter Seven

  For once, Tessa listened to her heart and found the answer. “Yes. I trust you, Marcus.” And it was true. Despite the short time she’d known him, she trusted him.

  He kissed her until her head spun. Then he rose, drawing her up to stand before him, molding her body to his.

  Tessa felt as though she couldn’t get enough. Every sensation was heightened as he ran his hand along the length of her body.

  “Will you come upstairs with me?” he whispered.

  Her stomach did a long, slow roll at the thought. She nodded though nerves fluttered inside her at the possible consequences of her decision. Surely some risks were worth taking.

  Another kiss was her reward, the heat of it reassuring her. He tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her up the stairs. To her relief, they didn’t encounter any servants, nor did Aunt Betty poke her head out of her door to stop Tessa.

  Marcus opened a door at the end of the hallway a few doors down from her room and gestured for her to proceed him. The large bedroom was another impressive space decorated in golds, browns, and creams with rich brown velvet drapes covering the tall windows. A mahogany writing desk gleamed along one wall. Two chairs stood before the fireplace where flames danced cheerfully. Marcus stepped around her toward the massive four-poster bed. Its old-fashioned design would be well suited for a castle.

  He lit the candles on the bedside table then moved around the room, lighting several more until the room glowed with warmth. One wall displayed a tapestry that depicted a knight kneeling before a king.

  “One of your ancestors?” she asked, pointing toward it.

  “Indeed. Everywhere I go, I am reminded from where I came. From who I came.”

  “That must be quite a responsibility.” She couldn’t imagine how that might feel as she hadn’t known her grandparents, let alone the family that had come before them.

  “It is. But it is also an honor.” He finished lighting the candles and returned to stand before her. “As is having you here, and it is one I do not take lightly.”

  Her cheeks heated at his intense regard. “Nor do I.”

  She lifted up on her toes to kiss him, loving how he pulled her slowly closer until they touched from toes to lips and everywhere in between.

  Her body hummed with desire. All for him. It stunned her. Why he felt anything for her was difficult to understand. He was an earl—strong, powerful, and wealthy. He was handsome, intelligent, and kind. But it was his heart that drew her. The way he’d treated her, her aunt, and Sally spoke for his respect for everyone. That he cared not only about his ships’ profits, but even more about the girls and what might happen to them touched her deeply.

  In truth, he was perfect. And for tonight, he was hers. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  “What is it?” he asked, returning her smile, his finger trailing along her cheek.

  “I can’t believe I’m here. With you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, reveling in the knowledge that she could and that he welcomed her doing so.

  His hands spanned her waist then ran up and down her sides. The sensation of his touch was delightful, something of which she would never grow weary.

  “Nor can I. You are such a gift.” He kissed her deeply, passionately, until her head spun. His fingers lingered in places she hadn’t realized were sensitive, along her neck, near the modest edge of her gown. When his kisses followed the path of his fingers, her knees weakened.

  She reminded herself she was a woman, not a girl, yet still nerves threatened to put a hitch in her breath at the sight of his dark head so close to her breasts. She was astounded that this was happening and could hardly breathe.

  He paused to unbutton his jacket and remove it but left on the vest beneath.

  “May I?” he asked as he gestured toward her back.

  At her nod, he moved behind her to loosen the laces of her bodice, lifting it over her head. Her gown was a simple one with a modest bustle, yet there were several layers to remove. Having a man undress her was a startling experience, but his kisses between the layers eased her nerves and kept passion simmering between them. When she stood before him in her thin chemise, she took the liberty of unfastening his vest and removing it. The intimate sight of Marcus in his white shirtsleeves stirred her even more. She ran her hands along the soft linen, admiring the feel of his muscled form beneath. While she’d often sewn men’s shirts, she’d never touched one when it was on him. It astonished her that she was doing so now.

  She swallowed hard as nerves threatened once again. She darted a glance at the bed, wondering if she could actually do what he wanted her to do. Would he still admire her once she’d removed her clothes? Did he realize she knew little of what happened next, other than overhearing a few conversations? What, precisely, did he expect of her?

  Tessa turned to Marcus to warn him, to explain that perhaps this was a poor idea after all as she’d surely disappoint him.

  He took her hand in his, and her stomach dipped. But rather than moving to the bed as she’d expected, he drew her toward the fire and sat in the oversized chair. With a tug, he pulled her onto his lap.

  Long, slow kisses had her worries falling away as desire poured through her. His hand on her bare calf felt lovely. She hadn’t realized how sensitive the back of her knee was. Before she had a chance to worry about where else his hand was venturing, he removed it to cup her face.

  With a sigh, she sunk into the kiss, loving the feel of his broad shoulders. She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hand inside. The heat of him amazed her. As she shifted on his lap, she realized his manhood pressed against her. The knowledge that he desired her caused liquid heat to pool low in her belly.

  “Oh, Tessa. So beautiful. What magic is this that you weave over me?” He ran a finger along the embroidered neckline of her chemise, back and forth until she thought she’d go mad for more. At last those clever fingers dipped lower to her bare breast.

  She couldn’t help but arch back, her breasts suddenly aching. For what she wasn’t certain. When his fingers found the tip of her breast, she had her answer.

  This.

  Oh, it was glorious to feel the weight of her breast in his hand, his thumb caressing her nipple. Unbelievably glorious.

  He freed her breast from her chemise. “Perfect,” he muttered. Then he kissed her there, shocking Tessa. As he neared the tip, she caught her breath. He drew it into his mouth, sucking gently, and it was all she could do to stay on his lap. A pulsating need shot through her, making her moan.

  It took a moment for her to realize his hand caressed her thigh, moving relentlessly up. There was no room for nerves now—only desire.

  “Open for me, Tessa. Please.” Then he returned his mouth to her breast, leaving her to wonder what he meant. Yet as his fingers smoothed the skin along her inner thighs, she understood.

  Nerves returned, but desire demanded she comply.

  With a deep breath and feeling brazen, she shifted one leg to grant him what he requested. At that moment, she thought she’d be willing to give him anything.

  When his fingers touched the damp curls at the apex of her thighs, she gasped in surprise, shocked her body was capable of feeling such things.

  “A little more,” he requested, pressing kisses along her breast.

  She complied, only to cry out in surprise when he touched her again. “Marc
us.”

  “I knew the moment I saw you how much passion you held inside you.” He lifted his head to hold her gaze then took her mouth with his as his fingers continued their exploration.

  With a gasp, she tipped her head back as hot need swept through her.

  “Yes, my sweet.” With one finger, he entered her body while still rubbing her slick folds. “Let go.”

  She frowned, not understanding what he meant. How could she possibly—Then something deep inside her coiled and burst with sensation, sending her body up with wave upon wave of heat. Her hips had a mind of their own as they rocked beneath his touch.

  He kissed her again, taking her soft cries as his own.

  Slowly she slid back down, shocked she was capable of such things. But as lovely as that had been, she wanted a deeper connection with Marcus. She wanted the heat of his skin against hers. “Marcus, I want to touch you.”

  “Yes.” Part groan, part moan, he lifted her and stood, his glittering, golden gaze holding hers. He walked toward the bed then let her slide down the length of him until she stood. With one arm still holding her, he threw back the covers.

  Tessa eased his shirt off his shoulders, frowning as she saw the scar of where he’d been stabbed. When she bent to kiss the mark, Marcus hissed in response.

  Emboldened by his reaction, she ran her hands along his sculpted chest, pressing kisses as she went. When she took his nipple into her mouth, he jerked back.

  “One moment,” he muttered, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached down to remove his shoes. Then he unfastened his trousers but left them on. With a hand on her chemise, he raised a brow. “May I?”

  She reached for the hem and drew the chemise slowly up over her head. As she did so, she felt his hands on her thighs, her hips, following the path of the chemise, up to her waist, the sides of her breasts. He was hidden from view as the fabric covered her face, heightening the sensation of his touch.

  He held the chemise in place for a moment, as though encouraging her to keep it there. Her breath caught as he kissed her breasts once more, giving each his full attention. His lips ventured lower to the spot between her ribs and lower still to her stomach. His hands moved down to massage her bottom which pressed her more firmly against his lips. When his fingers eased between the globes of her bottom toward the juncture of her thighs, she gave a soft cry, legs trembling. He touched her intimately as he kissed her stomach, and his fingers worked their magic.

  Unable to bear it, she tugged the chemise free, allowing it to fall to the ground. The sight of his dark head against her pale skin was erotic. She reached down to pull him up, wanting to give him a portion of the pleasure he was giving her.

  He took his time rising to play along the curves of her body with his lips. When at last he kissed her, she deepened it, desperate to show him how much she wanted him. Her hands roamed over the breadth of his shoulders, across his muscled chest, down the flat planes of his stomach to the top of his trousers. She pushed at the barrier and started to tug them down before he stopped her.

  “Hold,” he whispered and laid his forehead against hers for a moment. “You’ll have me ending before I begin.”

  She had no idea of what he spoke, only knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She kissed him again and felt his movements as he removed his pants.

  The hot hardness of him pressed against her, surprising her. She glanced down, shocked at the size of him. With timid fingers, she explored his length, amazed at the velvety hardness, noting how he trembled as she did so. But when she tried to envision the two of them becoming one, her mind rebelled the mechanics of it. How could it ever work?

  “Marcus,” she said, wanting to express her doubts before they took this any further.

  “Shh, my sweet.” He kissed her, gathering her in his arms to lift her once more and place her on the cool linens of the bed. He followed, using his knee to part her legs.

  His body was so hot against hers. His hands felt like they were everywhere, leaving no spot unexplored.

  She writhed with the feelings coursing through her, welcoming the ache that settled deep inside her.

  His kisses had her head spinning. His fingers danced along her skin. He touched her center, and her hips rose under him.

  “I need you, Tessa. So much,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes.”

  He eased upward until the tip of his manhood pressed against her.

  Her eyes popped open in response. Already she could feel the invasion. When she thought of how big he was, she couldn’t quell her momentary panic.

  “Easy,” he coaxed as he pushed forward then paused then eased forward again. “So perfect.” He thrust into her, seating himself fully inside her.

  The sudden pain had her gasping, but only for a moment. It was the oddest feeling, to be one with another. To be one with Marcus. She shifted slightly, ready to explore this new sensation. He whimpered in response. She couldn’t help but move again, hoping it pleased him.

  “Slowly,” he said. “It’s been so long.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, he withdrew only to thrust again. The feeling was glorious. Her body seemed to know exactly what to do, and her hips lifted to meet his.

  He took her mouth once more before trailing kisses along her neck as she arched back. The weight of him felt so good, so right. She never wanted this to end, yet she could feel desire building relentlessly.

  “Marcus.” She said his name in demand as pressure spiraled deep within her.

  “Oh, yes,” he managed then reached down between them to touch her.

  The sensation was more than she could take. Fireworks lit behind her eyes as her body quivered.

  Marcus shuddered, his body convulsing with hers.

  Slowly they drifted back down. He kissed her again, long and slow, making her heart squeeze.

  What was this between them? She would’ve never guessed that she could feel so much. She swallowed back the tears threatening to clog her throat as realization dawned.

  How could love have come so swiftly when she’d guarded herself so carefully all these years?

  Marcus breathed deep to slow his pounding heart, but that didn’t seem to help. He waited for guilt to flood him now that he’d been disloyal to Mary’s memory.

  Instead, a sense of peace flowed through him. It made no sense, for not only had he taken Tessa, he cared for her. That was two strikes against him. The odd thing was that he was certain Mary would’ve liked Tessa.

  Tessa stirred beneath him, and immediately his body came to life. He withdrew from her, something he should’ve done before he’d climaxed. At least then there would’ve been less of a chance for a babe. But he’d been so enamored with her, so involved in the moment, that it hadn’t crossed his mind.

  Now what? He drew her into his arms and pulled the covers over them. Now he was even more certain that he wanted her in his life. Not just today, but in the future.

  “Tessa?” he whispered, his finger drawing a circular pattern on her bare shoulder.

  “Yes?”

  Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say the words and ask if she’d agree to be his mistress.

  He’d thought his plan through carefully and intended to buy a house for her and her aunt in London. They could give the seamstress shop to someone else who might carry on the tradition of apprenticing willing girls to train them. But Tessa would no longer need to worry over things. She would never again live in fear of debtors pounding down her door. He would see to that.

  Perhaps now wasn’t the moment. That was all that bothered him. A better time would arise to make his offer.

  “Thank you,” he said and turned her head so he might kiss her once more. “That was a gift beyond measure.”

  She smiled up at him, those green eyes lighting something near his heart.

  He closed his eyes, the only thing he could think to do to keep his defenses in place. Marriage was out of the question. He couldn’t take such a risk. While he’d be
lieved he had no heart left to give, he now realized that wasn’t true. Tessa had proved to him that he could still feel. But he wasn’t willing to open himself to anything more than simple affection.

  He hoped she would understand and accept that when he asked her to be his mistress. She deserved so much more, but that was all he could offer. He couldn’t survive loving and losing again.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered as sleep tugged at him. He pulled her even closer.

  Sleep claimed him before he realized she hadn’t answered.

  Chapter Eight

  Marcus woke slowly the next morning, stretching before he opened his eyes, realizing he’d had one of the best night’s sleep in some time. He frowned as he tried to determine what was different.

  Tessa.

  He reached for her only to feel the coolness of the bed linens beside him. When he opened his eyes, the only evidence of her was a hollow in the pillow beside his. All the candles were out and the fireplace dark. The faint light of morning was visible around the edges of the drapes.

  She must’ve returned to her bedroom in the middle of the night. Or rather, early this morning. When he’d reached for her during the night, her warm, soft form had proved impossible to resist. He’d woken her with kisses and caresses, her body responding to his before she’d even opened her eyes.

  The memory of it had him hardening once again. He could only shake his head. The passion he felt for her surprised him. While he and Mary had enjoyed the marriage bed, it hadn’t been like this. He supposed their friendship had taken precedence over passion.

  But with Tessa, he felt—

  He stopped abruptly, unwilling to put a name to it. With an oath, he tossed aside the covers, annoyed at what popped into his mind.

  Mary had taken his heart with her. He had no desire to feel the desolate emptiness that had hung over him after her death. Nay. It was too great a risk, even if he were capable of it.