by Darcy Burke
She shook her head, a greedy look in her eyes. “No, I mean to have you here, just like this. You gave me pleasure before. Tonight, I am to return the favor. You are the only man I’ve ever had in my mouth. I’d like to taste you again.”
His gaze darkened as he took her meaning and he nodded.
With a wicked grin, she lowered herself to her knees, and took him into her mouth.
It was true he’d been the one to introduce her to such an act, though his randy twenty-one-year-old self had no problem enticing her nineteen-year-old self to things they had no business doing. She’d wanted more and more of him, had taken as much as she had given, just as she did now. He reveled in it, embraced this wanton side of her with admiration and keen awareness of the gift she bestowed upon him. It wasn’t the gift of herself or her body, but of her trust. She’d trusted him then and he’d broken her heart. He hoped he had the courage to not do so again.
Henry’s breathing became ragged as he neared release but Anna withdrew, glancing up at him knowingly.
“If you mean to take me, you’ll have to remove your boots.”
He was still wearing all his clothing. She stood before him stark naked, and he was still clothed down to his boots.
He chuckled. “You wicked woman. How am I to undress like this?” He gestured to his stiff member, aching to be engaged further.
She smirked. “You’d best do so quickly. I’d hate for you to get cold.”
With a groan, he rose, scooped her into his arms, and tossed her onto the bed.
Anna laughed, the absurdity of it all unbelievable, but she embraced this new world of pleasure she’d stumbled into.
She leaned up on her elbows, determined to watch him undress.
His boots were first, and it took him some time to pull them off. Anna made sure not to laugh at his difficulties. Pins and stays were a nuisance, but at least her footwear removed easily.
He stood finally, a triumphant look on his face.
“You don’t take your boots off on your own often, do you?”
He shook his head. “Never. There is good reason it is a two-person job.” His jacket came next, and his waistcoat, both joining her chemise and gown on the floor. He unwound the cravat from his neck, wrapping it around his hand before it joined the other garments.
She met his heated gaze, not wavering as he flipped the few buttons on his shirt and pulled it over his head. The sight of him shirtless made Anna’s breath catch and she swallowed hard, her mouth dry. Lines of muscle stretched across his chest and abdomen. He was not bulky and chiseled as an Italian sculpture, but he was strong, with muscles built from labor. Finally, his trousers and stockings were gone and he climbed into the bed beside her.
She melted under his touch. His hands came around her waist, stretched across her back before pulling her closer to him. His lips found her collarbone, trailed down her chest to the swells of her breasts. His fingers found their way between her legs and she parted for him, her knees bending to allow his intrusion.
“There you are,” he said against her lips, kissing her deeply. “You are so wet, love.”
He stroked along her seam, pushing a finger and then two inside her and she groaned.
“Please, Henry,” she begged.
He pressed kisses along her jaw up to her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered, writhing beneath him. She needed more than the pressure of his fingers inside her.
“We should take this slow, remember? Savor each other?”
She turned her head towards his and nipped at his lips. “I tasted you, remember?”
He grinned. “But I’ve not tasted you.”
She shook her head. “After my mouth was on you, and watching you undress, my nerves are nearly spent. I’d rather find my release with you inside me than with your mouth on me.”
His eyes darkened at her words and he nodded. He kissed her again, long and deep as he moved over her. He braced himself with one arm, careful to not crush her with his weight.
“Tell me again you want this,” he said to her.
“I want you, Henry. Please.”
With his free hand, he guided his tip to her entrance, teasing the wetness there before slowly pushing into her.
Anna nearly lost herself in the glorious feeling of fulfillment. A moan vibrated through her, but it was not from pain. It was an unbridled satisfaction, and she pulsed around him. “More Henry. Don’t stop.”
He withdrew and pushed into her further, and again, and again, faster and harder with each thrust. She stretched to accommodate his length and there was no pain, only the heady gratification of feeling him inside her again.
“Anna.” There was a heaviness in his tone, and so much was said with just the utterance of her name. He drove into her. Each time the bands of pleasure tightened inside her until they hummed in tune with their moans echoing through the room. Waves of pleasure crested deep inside her core and she cried out in wonder as the sensations slammed into her.
Henry called her name as his release hit him and he pulled himself from her. Whatever was to happen between them, they didn’t need the complication of a pregnancy to force their hands. Through the whirring in her mind, she was grateful for his presence of mind to take such a precaution.
He collapsed beside her, his chest slick with sweat, and Anna stared at the ceiling, fighting to catch her breath. Even as her breathing returned to normal and her heartbeat settled, her want for him did not wane.
She rolled to her side and traced a fingertip across his chest.
“That feels nice,” he said, his voice sated.
She moved her hands further down his abdomen to the nest of curls.
He chuckled. “Again? Really, Anna, how are you not exhausted?”
She grinned and pressed her lips to his shoulder. “What can I say? I’ve had ten years to fantasize about this. I’m not about to squander what time we have together.”
He turned his head to regard her. “Be that as it may, I’m not twenty-one years old anymore. Give me a minute to regain some stamina.”
“Only a minute?”
He laughed and rolled her to her side, pulling her back against his sweat-slicked chest. “Sleep for a bit, and we will have time for that later.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed up against hers. This was something they’d not done before. Ten years ago, they’d not been able to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. The idea of it now sounded pleasing.
His eyes had closed but he smiled. “Sleep, Anna. I’m not going anywhere.”
If only that were true, she thought to herself but shut her eyes anyway. Nestled against him like this, naked and sated from their lovemaking, was a sure way to be lulled to sleep.
Chapter Nine
After the time Henry had spent with Anna in his bed into the morning hours, the fox hunt the next morning came much too early for his liking
She did not appear downstairs for the fox hunt, which was for the better. Henry’s only motivation for joining was a bit of cold air and exercise to clear his head. His thoughts surrounding Anna were much too complicated to solve otherwise.
There was no peace from Anna to be found, he soon realized. In his effort to find distance from her to gather his wits, he’d forgotten her grown stepson might join the hunt.
“Lord Carrington!” Percy said with an exuberance that could only be attributed to his youth. No one over thirty was that chipper before a proper cup of coffee.
Henry nodded to him. “Good morning, Lord Rycroft.”
“It looks to be a splendid morning for a fox hunt, wouldn’t you agree?”
Henry grimaced and glanced outside. He didn’t particularly care for the fox hunting part, just the extended exercise on horseback. “I am sure the weather is suitable.” Percy twitched in excitement, and Henry followed the young man’s gaze out the sitting room windows “I say, Lord Rycroft, is this your first
fox hunt?”
Percy glanced at him. “Gads no. I’ve been on fox hunts since I was twelve, my lord.”
“Forgive me, but you seem quite...”
“Excited?” Percy laughed. “I suppose I am. Fox hunts are enjoyable and all, but this is the first chance in a terribly long time I am to be without my sister or stepmother.”
Henry’s brows rose at the unexpected answer.
Percy continued quickly. “Not that there is anything wrong with their company, but sometimes my sister can be trying, and my stepmother’s expectations can be stifling.”
Henry laughed and clapped Percy on the shoulder “Come on, lad. This fox hunt will be a great opportunity for us both to blow off steam.”
They followed the rest of the hunting party into the brisk January air, the first sunrise of the new year just cresting over the horizon. Henry and Percy each found their mounts and moved about the front drive until the hounds were released.
“I do love a good hunt!” Percy called before urging his horse into motion as the others leapt to the same. Henry chuckled, but his horse needed little urging to join in the fun.
The gallop across the countryside brought clarity to Henry’s thoughts. It might have been the cold numbing out all the other noise, or the fresh air breathing life into his soul, but by the time the fox was caught, Henry had a clear image of what he wanted.
He still wanted to build great canals in America, but he wanted Anna there with him. To convince her to take that leap of faith would take a miracle, but he was determined to succeed. How could she be thrust back into his life and not remain there? It was incomprehensible to think the past week would be the last they would ever spend together.
“Lord Carrington, might I ask you something?”
Henry glanced at the young viscount. Percy had moved his horse alongside Henry’s on their walk back to the house. The hunting party had scattered into separate groups and pairs. Henry and Percy were a discernable distance from anyone, which also meant no one would overhear whatever Percy asked. Judging from his intense stare, it wasn’t to talk about horses or the hunt.
“Would you encourage someone to seek something outside their title, as you did?”
Henry didn’t answer right away, not expecting that query, nor sure how to answer it. Percy looked to be wrestling with something, from the way his jaw moved back and forth, so Henry opted for honesty.
“It would depend on the person. Some are born to tread the same path their ancestors did. Others cannot be that confined. If you are feeling this way, exploring a bit in your youth won’t do you any harm.”
“My uncle has encouraged me to travel, to see more of the world than just this island. He says it is important to see different cultures and meet other nationalities, to understand that people are just people no matter where you go.” Percy glanced at him. “Do you agree with him?”
Henry nodded and adjusted his weight in the saddle. “I do. I spent some time on the Continent during the war, and came to understand there are truly no differences between people. The French, the British, the rich, the poor. It all comes down to what home you were born to. Everyone has the same goal in the end: survive. What you do to achieve that goal is how people will view you differently.”
“Your time on the Continent, was that this business with canals?”
“It was a part of it. I was a combat engineer, and we were tasked with solving the logistical problems with moving large companies of men from one place to another.”
“Such as building a bridge, or navigating the terrain?”
“Exactly. After the war, through a series of acquaintances and introductions, I found myself in Scotland, knee deep in the mud of Loch Ness, carving a solution to bring a shipping lane through Scotland.”
“You went the route of labor when you were to be an earl?”
“I wasn’t set to be the earl then,” Henry admitted. “My older brother and father were still very much alive. I was free to do what I wanted, and what I wanted was to make my own mark on the world.”
“And you continue even though you have inherited?”
“There is more than one way to be a peer, despite what a few centuries of tradition will tell you.”
Percy’s gaze was unfocused, but he maneuvered his horse around the terrain without problem. “I admit, I’ve recently had similar thoughts.”
“Have you shared this with your stepmother?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to worry her. I wasn’t sure how progressive of a view it was.”
“It is progressive to be sure. But sometimes, the only way for an aging system to survive, it with progressive ideas.”
Percy wrestled with his thoughts, but Henry didn’t press for more information. It wasn’t his business, but he could try and offer some guidance.
“You’re the title holder, you get to hold it and care for it during your lifetime,” Henry explained. “But it doesn’t have to hold you down. It doesn’t have to define you. You can find a way to incorporate yourself into the title, to add a bit of yourself to its legacy.”
“Even if that little bit is as a mud-soaked laborer?” Percy teased.
“I am Cambridge and Military educated, I will have you know. It’s not as if I’ve been working the docks my whole life.”
Percy laughed. “That would be a sight. Dock worker by day, lord of the ton by night.”
Henry grimaced. “Hardly. I can count how many ton events I’ve attended on one hand.”
“That sounds like a dream,” Percy replied with a sigh. “I fear I am not cut out to be the viscount my father expected. I feel as though part of my life has been cut short with his death. Things I wanted to do seem less obtainable now.”
“You are a viscount,” Henry reminded him. “Who is to tell you no?”
“No one really. I’m mostly in fear of disappointing Anna—Lady Rycroft, my stepmother, that is.”
“I’m not offended by your informal use of her name. She is your stepmother.”
Percy breathed a sigh of relief and seemed to relax. “Anna told me I was too young to take a wife, and yet you were a mere two years older than I am now when you wanted to marry her. What I mean to ask is, why did you think it was the time for you to take a wife?”
“My family has not been kind to me. I am the black sheep and never allowed to forget my existence is a thorn in their sides. Your stepmother—Anna, was the first person to see past all that and actually accept me for me.”
“And you loved her for it?”
Henry nodded. “But I also loved the idea of having that sort of acceptance.”
“That is a rather honest answer.”
Henry shrugged. “Your question warranted one.”
“But why did you decide it was the right time?”
“It wasn’t the right time,” Henry admitted. “But I was too caught up in how wonderful I felt with her that I forgot the most important requirement of having a wife: the ability to take care of one and provide her with a life she deserves.”
Percy nodded. “Which is why you left.”
“Exactly. I came to my senses when her father caught up with us on our mad dash to Gretna Green, and realized the only way to provide a life for her that she deserved, was to walk away and hope she would be there when I returned. Had we succeeded, our lives would have been difficult. We would have wed in a scandal, ostracizing ourselves from society and our families, who were exceptionally critical of our every move. That much Anna and I have in common.”
“Had in common.” Percy glanced at him. “Her father died some years back. She doesn’t talk to her sister. Millie and I are her family now, and we would love and support her through anything.”
The young viscount seemed unaware how profound and rare a sentiment like his was. “She is lucky to have you and your sister. She deserves a loving family.”
Percy puffed out a white breath. “We are lucky to have her. Our father was not a warm and caring person, and by the time he mar
ried Anna, we were starved for affection. Fortunately, she had it in bounds.”
“It sounds as though the three of you were what each other needed.”
“Indeed.” Percy’s gaze unfocused for a moment. A wistful smile spread across his face as he was lost in some distant memory. But then his gaze clouded and he frowned. “Is it terrifying to fall in love?”
Henry didn’t have an answer for that.
Percy didn’t look at him. “My father loved my mother. She died during our birth. It destroyed our father. I don’t have a happy memory of him-- just sad ones. It took him seven years to even consider taking another wife, and he only agreed when pushed by my uncle, who made the claim my sister and I deserved a mother, at least in name. Someone to guide Millie in Society. Someone to make sure I wasn’t a brute.” Percy glanced sheepishly at Henry. “Anna doesn’t know I know this. I overheard my uncle meeting with her father about the marriage contract.”
“Wanting a mother for your children is not an uncommon thing. It was probably the most caring thing your father could have done for you, to find someone to love you when he could not.”
Percy nodded. “Seeing how my father’s love destroyed him has made me question whether it’s even worth pursuing. Finding a wife for political reasons or to align two families, seems more strategic. Safer. Anna would choose well, I am sure. Someone to act as a companion and friend, but not a deep enough affection to destroy the other should the worst come to pass.”
“It’s a well-reasoned idea, but you’re missing the most critical part: you don’t quite get a choice.”
Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You could have a perfectly amiable and politically-motivating arranged marriage, and end up falling in love with her in the end. You could fall in love with her sister, and make everyone’s lives miserable. Shutting your heart away denies part of your existence. You’d be living an unfeeling half-life for all your days.”
“Do you regret falling in love with Anna all those years ago?”
“Not for a moment. It was a choice I made, one among many that propelled my life in the direction I took. One led to the other, and one missed step would not have resulted in the next.”
