Dear Stranger (6 page)

She moved to slide her hand into his breeches, wanting to give him the same pleasure he was showing her, but his hand clamped around her wrist, keeping it against his abdomen. Their eyes met and held for a long moment before he started guiding her backwards. When her legs hit the edge of the settee she lowered herself onto it. She panted, her excitement building, as she waited for the feel of his hard body coming down over hers. Instead, he knelt on the floor, facing her.

“I’ve wanted to taste you since that first time we met,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire as he drew his warm hands along the inside of her thighs, gently coaxing them apart. She shivered as he stared down at her.

His words confused her. She expected him to touch her there again, between her legs, where she most wanted his clever fingers. When he lowered his head, instead, and pressed his mouth high on the inside of her thigh, her mind momentarily blanked in shock. She allowed him to nudge her limbs wider and closed her eyes against the tumult of sensation pouring through her as his mouth moved higher. Wanton desire curled tightly within her lower belly when he raised her legs to drape them over his shoulders. He trailed a hot, wet path to her slit and the sensation of his warm breath teasing her already sensitive skin was almost more than she could bear. She gasped, her body jerking when she felt the first sweep of his hot tongue.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him—her blood raced at the sight of his head between her thighs. Her heart turned over even as her desire increased. He swept his tongue along her folds before moving his mouth to tease the sensitive nub where all her need seemed to centre. She collapsed back against the cushions when he thrust first one, then two long fingers into her wet sheath, moving them in and out in time with the strokes of his agile tongue. It was too much. The burning image of his tousled head planted firmly between her thighs, the heavy scent of her own arousal and his talented, persistent mouth sent her plummeting over the edge. Her thighs tightened around his head as waves of unbearable pleasure exploded through her tense body. Her back arched uncontrollably as she cried out with raw, uninhibited joy. He didn’t stop, but continued the slow, maddening movement of his fingers and mouth until she was wrung out, dazed and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She closed her eyes again, her body limp, as she struggled to catch her breath.

She didn’t protest when he raised her legs onto the settee and turned her until she was lying down. Only then did he move to join her, his body hovering just over hers.

“Touch me, Sophie.”

She could see the strain of holding back in the tight lines of his face. His blue eyes had darkened and a flush touched the edge of his cheekbones. She didn’t think it possible, not after the earth-shattering orgasm she had just experienced, but her desire started to stir again. He was so dear to her and she could no longer imagine what life would be like without him. She would do anything for him. The thought should have frightened her, but it didn’t.

Remembering how wonderful it had felt when he’d teased her nipples with his tongue, she shifted under him until she could bring her hands and her mouth to his chest. The soft gold hair sprinkled there tickled her cheek as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses to one of his nipples. His breath hitched when she flicked her tongue over the hard nub.

Her confidence growing, she used her hands to trace a path down his abdomen to the waist of his breeches, her nails raking lightly over his warm skin, and she smiled to herself when she saw his body jerk. She reached for the fall of his breeches and her hands fumbled slightly as she slipped the buttons through their housings. He groaned when she slid her hand under his small clothes and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Given how hard he was, she was surprised at the softness of his skin. She moved her fingers along his length, exploring him.

“Like this,” he said, wrapping his own hand over hers to show her how he liked to be touched. His breath strained in and out as she continued on her own. She was hampered, however, by his clothing.

He levered himself off her in a sudden movement, surprising her and leaving her feeling bereft. When she realised that he was removing the rest of his clothing, she purred in contentment, capturing his attention. His eyes met hers and in them she found a wealth of promised delights. She shivered.

Richard remained motionless for several long moments while she drank in the sight of him. Her eyes drifted down his body, and she stared in amazement at his manhood, jutting out at a proud angle. Taking in his size, she was reminded that there would be pain this first time, but she wasn’t afraid. When he joined her again, she parted her legs to allow him to settle in between them. She reached with eager fingers to touch him again, but he stopped her.

“I’m too close,” he whispered before taking her mouth. She could taste herself on his lips, and the reminder of what he had done shot a heated surge of wetness to her already slick folds.

He tore his mouth away and stared down at her while he used one hand to place himself against her entrance. She drew in a breath of wonder at the feel of him against her sensitised skin. He hesitated only a moment before pushing into her. He moved slowly, and she could tell that he was trying to be careful, but the pain was inevitable. She sucked in her breath to hold back her surprised gasp when he broke through her maidenhead.

He stilled after seating himself fully inside her, watching her face intently. The sensation was so different from the feel of his fingers inside her. He filled her completely and his weight upon her comforted her.

“Are you hurt?” His breathing was harsh, blowing across her cheek.

She shook her head. “I was surprised…” The rest of her sentence was lost to a moan when he pulled back until only the tip of him was inside her, then surged forward again.

His movements started slowly, but that soon changed as lust took over. He was thrusting into her with a force that made her pant with every downward stroke. Instinct urged her to wrap her legs around his lean hips and her passion-fuelled world narrowed, centring on the man over her. His weight holding her down on the cushions of the settee, the way her breasts pressed against his hard chest, the feel of his hot, hungry mouth as it moved over her throat. She felt the fire build within her belly, spreading through her heated body, and when he shifted his hips to grind into her with every stroke she shattered with a suddenness that had her crying out his name. She felt herself convulse, small spasms rippling over her, while Richard thrust once, twice more before burying himself deeply and releasing himself within her.

The sound of her name was muffled against her neck as he collapsed on top of her. She loved the intimate feel of his weight on her, but all too soon he shifted onto his side on the narrow settee and drew her against him. His shaft slid out of her and she was filled with a sudden sense of emptiness.

They lay like that for some time as their heartbeats slowed and the sweat of their bodies cooled in the darkened room. She clung to him, her head resting against his shoulder, while he drew slow, lazy circles along her back. She ran her hand over his chest, letting her fingers glide over the sprinkling of fair hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he finally spoke.

She stilled and looked up into his face. “For what?”

“For not being more careful. There are things we must do to ensure you don’t fall pregnant, but I wasn’t thinking.”

The reminder that theirs was only a temporary union was an unwelcome intrusion.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

“Sophie, you could already be with child. If that is the case…”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as a pang of yearning settled in her heart. He was going to do the honourable thing and offer to marry her, but that was the last thing she wanted. Not like this, out of a sense of obligation on his part. She smiled at him, hoping it didn’t appear as false as it felt.

“We can revisit this conversation if I am carrying a child, but until that time there is no need for sacrifices.”

He frowned at her words, but she was relieved when he didn’t pursue the subject.

“It is late,” she said with regret. “I should return home before my aunt discovers I am gone.”

She rose to a sitting position, angling away so her back was to Richard. Her clothes were in a pile several feet away and she could only stare at them as she tried to work up the courage to stand and retrieve them. After what she and Richard had shared, she knew it was ridiculous that she should now be embarrassed about her state of undress, but the courage that had brought her there that night seemed to have deserted her.

He rose up behind her and placed a kiss on her shoulder. She leant back into his warmth with a contented sigh when he brought his hands around to cup her breasts and began to play with them. She moaned when he tweaked her nipples and she felt the undeniable evidence of his renewed arousal against her backside.

“Damn,” he said, stopping with obvious reluctance and bringing his hands down to her waist. “What am I thinking? You’ll be too sore to make love again.”

She felt a surge of disappointment when he released her, but the dull ache between her legs gave credence to his words. She admired the way his lean muscles shifted as he stood and went to retrieve their clothing. They dressed in silence.

Richard was quiet on the carriage ride back to her house. She tried to imagine what he was thinking, but he gave no indication. It was now late enough that she didn’t fear being seen, but Richard was cautious, stopping a few houses away and instructing his driver to wait for him down the street. He walked with her to the servant’s entrance, which she’d left open when she’d slipped out earlier, and when she turned to say goodbye there was a dark intensity in his expression that made her breath catch.

“I want to see you again. Tomorrow.”

She touched a hand to his cheek. “Send word to me through my maid where and when, and I will be there.”

She leant forward to press her mouth against his. She’d meant the kiss to be a quick peck goodbye, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and crushed her to him. His mouth plundered hers with a renewed hunger that almost made her forget where they were.

“Tomorrow,” she said, finally managing to pull back.

He remained silent, but the heated look in his eyes before she turned away and slid quietly into the house told her he was feeling the same thing she was.

Tomorrow night could not come soon enough.

Chapter Five

The next few weeks were the happiest of Sophie’s life. She played the dutiful niece during the day, and she and Richard acted the part of polite acquaintances in public. In private, however, it was a completely different matter. With the assistance of her maid, Sophie managed to sneak out of the house undetected most nights after Aunt Jane had gone to bed. There were also those delicious stolen moments during the various entertainments they attended in the evenings.

It didn’t take long for word to spread that Henry Hearst had given up his courtship of Sophie, and the suitors who had previously been turned away by Aunt Jane as unsuitable were back in full force. Once again, her aunt tried to direct her as to whom to encourage and whom to let down, but Sophie wasn’t comfortable encouraging anyone’s attention while she and Richard were lovers. She put off the decision, which had the perverse effect of making her more sought after than before.

Richard made no secret of how much he hated having to watch her dance with and receive compliments from other men. She would never admit it to him, but there were times when she paid particular attention to one of Aunt Jane’s potential suitors precisely because she knew it would rouse Richard’s jealousy. She also knew she’d be in for some very vigorous lovemaking on those nights.

She did have a moment of sadness when her monthly courses came. Not because she wanted to use a pregnancy to trap Richard into marrying her, but because his very palpable relief upon hearing the news reminded her that theirs was but a brief union. At some point he would tire of her, as he had with all his other paramours, and move on to someone else. She tried not to dwell on that thought, however, determined to enjoy whatever time they had together.

The night before had been a particularly late night. Aunt Jane had accepted an invitation to the opera from Mr Stanley, the youngest son of Viscount Burlington, and it was clear he was her aunt’s new favourite among the men who were trying to gain Sophie’s attention. Richard hadn’t been pleased when she’d told him she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to hold off making a decision and had kept her up almost until dawn. If he sought to drive all other men from her mind, it was working.

She drifted in a place between sleep and wakefulness as her thoughts played over everything that they had shared together. She’d done things with him—to him—that she could never imagine doing with any other man.

He’d had her on her knees before him last night, and such had been her eagerness that he hadn’t had to tell her what to do. She’d known immediately what he’d wanted as she’d unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and pulled out his cock. His groan of satisfaction had rivalled her own moan of delight when she’d taken him into her mouth. She’d explored him with enthusiasm, revelling in his taste and texture, before he’d taken over, showing her how to move over him to bring him to completion.

The sound of her door crashing open startled Sophie fully awake. Her heart was hammering when she looked up to see her aunt standing at the foot of her bed, arms on her hips and fury vibrating from her.

Her mind raced as she scrambled for an innocent reason for her aunt’s anger. For a moment she thought she might have overslept and missed their dressmaker appointment, but then she remembered the appointment wasn’t until the next day. Dread settled over her as she suspected the worst.

“Is something the matter, Aunt Jane?”

She rose from the bed and reached for her dressing gown. When her aunt’s eyes fixed on her chest she realised her mistake. Her skin, which had always marked easily, was still red from the abrasions of Richard’s whiskers.