In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady (19 page)

He dropped to his knees, murmuring her name even as he cupped her breasts, molding them, lifting them to his mouth. She cried out when he licked a path between them, pressing kisses up the valley to the very peak.
She held his head to her while he gave her nipple the gentlest kiss. Then he met her eyes from below, and she knew hers were wide with anticipation and yearning.

Then he took her nipple deep into his mouth and suckled. She gasped and shuddered, only the strength of his body keeping her standing there. Glorious pleasure seemed to be in every part of her at once, from her fingertips to the very depth of her belly. Then he moved to the other breast, pushing her dangerously to the edge with his tongue and lips, even as his fingers soothed and teased the first nipple.

She couldn't stop shaking, and felt as if the whole world was about to be revealed to her.

With one fell swoop, he pushed the rest of her garments off her hips and she was naked, but for her stockings and boots. He kept his hands on her hips, looking at her with the smoky light of desire in his gray eyes.

And then he lifted her off her feet and deposited her in bed. She sprawled there, naked and open to him, and felt almost embarrassed as she tried to bring her knees together.

“No,” he said hoarsely, hands on her knees. And then he spread them wider. “Don't move.”

And she didn't. She watched with pleased awe as he began to shed his clothing at what was surely a record pace.

“Can I not help?” she asked.

“Next time.”

She could have laughed her delight. There would be a next time.

But her urge to laugh faded, as she was able to see more and more of his magnificent body. By candlelight, his muscles were sculpted in shadows, the ridges of his abdomen awe-inspiring. A dark, narrow streak of hair began just below his navel, leading her wide eyes downward as he removed his trousers, then undid the fastening of his drawers.

When his erection came free, she stared at it in amazement. She'd once snuck a peek at a book of her sister's anatomy sketches, but she was still unprepared for the sheer size. She felt a momentary qualm at the thought of such a thing fitting inside her.

Then he bent over her, bracing his body with one arm beside her shoulder, his face intent, his hand trembling as he ran the backs of his fingers down her belly. Something inside her went so soft and tender that he felt emotional at the thought of being with her.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss just below her navel.

She shivered and jerked, her breath coming harder now, her anticipation bubbling over until she felt that every second's delay was torture.

“Julian, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Don't make me wait.”

And then his fingers sifted through her pubic curls, and her limbs trembled.

He parted her and she moaned. He caressed and lingered and circled, until she was gasping his name.

“I can't wait,” he said, his voice guttural.

“Then don't.”

He pushed her farther onto the bed and stretched his body over hers. “This will hurt the first time.”

Desperate not to give him a reason to stop, she said, “Oh, no, I've had many lovers.”

His laugh was more of a grunt. He settled between her thighs, bracing himself so that he didn't crush her. Feeling awkward and unsure of what to do, she lifted her knees. She could feel the hardness of him probing at her, and although it should have been embarrassing, so intimate, this was Julian, giving himself to her at last. Just as she was thinking that this didn't hurt at all, he gave a hard thrust, and she gasped at the brief, burning pain.

He didn't move, his body held still above her, the faintest tremble in his arms. “Are you all right?”

She bit her lip and nodded. She wanted to feel all that rising passion again, all the heat and need building inside her. Surely this wasn't all—

And then he started to move, coming almost all the way out of her, and sliding back in, deep.

“Oooh,” she said, understanding suffusing her. “This feels…oh—”

“Yes,” he whispered, his thrusts increasing in pace.

He angled his hips against her, and the friction and
pressure set off an answering urgency inside her. She abandoned thought, knowing only he could give her what she wanted. She dragged his torso down to her, moving with him, against him, her arms around him. He met her open mouth with a deep, passionate kiss. As their bodies fused together below and above, she lost herself in the need that pounded through her. She made sounds she didn't know could come out of her throat, and he answered her wordlessly, bending to take her breast into his mouth.

She strained toward the ending that eluded her, gasping, going ever higher, feeling the terrible tense stillness rising and rising—until a burst of hot pleasure came over her in waves. She shuddered down through it, awed and grateful and so very satisfied. The world was a glorious place.

And then Julian rose up and increased his pace. All she could do was hold on.

J
ulian felt mindless, beyond pleasure into a world of sensation he'd never felt before. The depths of Rebecca's body were hot and tight, as if made to give him pleasure. She didn't shy away from the earthiness, the sweat, the friction of two bodies rubbing against each other. She caressed and held and urged him on, looking for her own pleasure.

And when at last she took it, her face full of radiant, wondrous bliss, he let himself go, shuddering over her, thrusting over and over until pulling out of her at the last moment, his own climax cascading over him, sweeping away the last of his doubts and indecision.

He came down onto his elbows, not wanting to crush her into the bed. Yet the moist heat of her breasts enticed him. He couldn't seem to remember how to slow his breathing. His chest ached with the effort.

Still she touched him, torturing him with her hot, inquisitive fingers. When her thumbs rubbed gentle
circles on his nipples, he groaned and moved against her thigh.

She smiled up at him. “At last I know what all the thumping was about when we were in the lodging house with all those other people.”

He gave a hoarse laugh. “You knew they were having sex.”

“But I didn't quite grasp what they were doing.”

He collapsed at her side, his arm across her, his leg over her thighs.

“Holding me captive?” she murmured, her voice musical with amusement.

“It's not necessary?”

“No. There is certainly nothing to flee from.”

After using his shirt to clean his seed from her thigh, he realized she was watching him almost uncertainly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, letting his hands soothe her, cupping her breast.

She trembled, eyes half closing, even as she said, “I keep waiting for you to be angry.”

“I won't,” he said, holding still instead of distracting her. “Once I've made a decision, I never regret it.”

She seemed to relax then in his arms, and her hands went back to caressing him, which he well appreciated. He sighed with pleasure.

“You say you won't marry, but it doesn't change the fact that you're mine, Rebecca.”

A faint frown furrowed her brow, and he tried to smooth it away with his fingers.

“For now,” she said.

He shrugged, not ready to destroy their peaceful contentment by arguing with her. She could think what she liked, but she'd been a virgin, and he'd taken her innocence. She could not deny the truth. Although he'd taken one precaution, there could still be a child. He would not spoil the mood by reminding her of that. But they would wed. He smiled and closed his eyes.

“You seem almost smug, Julian,” she accused, her voice light. “Why is that?”

“You have not had other lovers.”

“Hmm. Why does it matter one way or the other?”

“A man likes to know that no other man touched what is his.”

“You're beginning to irritate me.”

He opened one eye.

She was frowning.

“Why are you irritated?” he asked.

“Do not think this means you have any say in what I do, Julian.”

He smiled. “Don't be irritated. When a man takes a virgin, he cannot help but look forward to all the delightful things he's going to teach her.”

She bit her lip, but she could not hide the pleasure his words seemed to bring her. “Have you taken so many virgins, then?”

“You are my first.”

“Was that your first fight earlier tonight?”

He propped his head on his arm, letting his fingers play on her belly.

“You're distracting me,” she accused, even as she began to tremble.

“No, just unable to keep my hands off you. As for fighting, no, it was not my first. I studied boxing for many years, but I haven't had a real fight since reaching adulthood.”

“Did you fight as a child?”

“Occasionally.”

She stopped his caresses. “What reason could you possibly have for such behavior? You do not strike me as the kind who goes looking for a fight.”

“But others are, and I am not the kind to back down.”

“I've noticed that,” she said dryly.

He chuckled.

“Did the other boys…tease you?”

He removed his hand from hers and continued his exploration of the damp under curve of her breast. “It was long ago, Rebecca.”

“If they teased you because of your family's problems, that is just terrible. Where were…their parents?”

Her breathing started to hitch as his fingers climbed the hill of her breast.

“Children cannot always be under watchful eyes,” he said. “But perhaps you don't know about that.”

Her eyelids fluttered as he lazily circled her nipple, but she managed to say, “No, I didn't play with other children much. Who…taught you that fighting…doesn't solve problems?”

She wasn't distracted enough, so he bent down and breathed on her nipple. It puckered even more, and he felt the same sense of satisfaction he might equate with buying a company, strange as that seemed. He licked the tip of Rebecca's breast as if it were sweet candy. She moaned.

“Oh, yes. Can we do this again?” she whispered.

He was determined to take his time. He caressed and teased her breasts with his mouth and fingers until she was shivering and restless.

“Julian, please, I need—more!”

He laughed against her skin, letting his hand part her thighs and begin an exploration. She was soft and moist, and so very heated. He could barely keep himself from plunging inside. But she wanted to learn about everything, and he would teach her this.

He caressed the recesses of her body, dipping his fingers in and out of her, taking deep delight in her whimpers, and the way she clung to him. He watched her face when he gave her another orgasm, then pulled her on top of him until she straddled his hips. Her hair cascaded about both their bodies just as he'd fantasized.
She sat on him, a bit dazed, but her hazel eyes began to show her interest.

Her body cradled his erection and he arched his hips, even as he reached to play with her breasts.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Can we make love like this?”

He grinned. “See what you can do about it.”

He let her figure out her position, exploring him with her squirming hips and then her bold fingers. He groaned.

She stopped. “That hurt?”

“Not a bit,” he said hoarsely. “But the more you take your time, the sooner I'm going to take control.”

“Oh, no you don't.” She lifted herself and held his penis, trying to see how easily they could fit together.

When she had it just about right, he took her hips and pulled, settling himself deep within her. They both gasped.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, eyes closed, head thrown back.

The sight of her pleasure, and the way her hair parted about her breasts, was erotic and wild.

“Do I get to do all the moving?” she asked innocently.

He choked out a grunt of agreement even as she lifted herself. He came all the way out of her.

“Oops!” she said. “Sorry.”

When he was inside her again, he took a shuddering breath. Soon she found the rhythm and began to tease
him with her movements. She leaned forward to lick his nipples, and he arched into her with desperation.

She moved his hands away from her hips. “Don't rush me, Julian. It's my turn to explore.”

Never had he been with a woman who cared so much for his pleasure, who wanted to know everything about him. He felt like the luckiest man on the earth as she pleasured him until he was shaking and arching his hips desperately. At last she began to lift herself up and down, her eyes shining as she watched him.

He lost himself almost immediately, shuddering and groaning when he pulled out of her to empty everything inside him. Again, he used his shirt to clean up, while she watched him speculatively, but asked no questions. At last he went slack beneath her, arms wide, eyes closed.

She giggled and leaned down over his chest to snuggle against him. “That was fun. Am I supposed to get off now?”

Without thinking, he mumbled, “Don't leave me.”

She went silent, and regretting the words, he cracked open his eyelids to see her pensive expression.

“I'm not leaving the room,” she said at last.

“You'd better not,” he said with relief, hoping she didn't read more into his words than he'd meant to show her this soon.

 

In the morning, a bathing tub was sent up at dawn, a gesture of thanks from the maid, Dora. Rebecca watched the kitchen boys troop past a scowling Julian, who wore only his trousers, rendering him sufficiently intimidating. She was still in bed, the covers up to her chin. But she didn't care how many people saw her nearly naked, as long as they were bringing hot water.

When they'd gone, she was in the tub before he'd barely closed the door. She gave a delighted sigh, wishing it were deep enough that she could totally submerge herself.

She expected Julian to busy himself, but instead he pulled up a chair as if her bath was the main entertainment of his day. His interest made her blush. She was naked and he was nearly so; she was surprised to feel a little discomfited, but she thought that was only natural.

She used a facecloth and dripped water across her upper body. “I was never allowed to linger in a bath as a child. It makes me feel decadent.”

“Then feel decadent quickly, because we must leave.”

“But you'll need a bath—”

“I'll use yours.”

She grinned at him, enjoying the intimacy. He didn't grin back. She gave an exaggerated pout. “It's back to the jewel again, isn't it?”

His eyes dropped down to her breasts, between which the Scandalous Lady hung, glinting light. “I want to confront my uncle, yes. The sooner it is done, the sooner I can concentrate on you.”

She quickly scrubbed herself. When her hair was soapy, Julian was waiting with the rinse bucket.

Rebecca reluctantly rose from the bath, and he was there to wrap her in a towel. She dried herself slowly as she watched him bathe. Just looking at him gave her such pleasure. His body was so different from hers, so large and hairy and masculine. Yet not too large at the moment, she thought smugly, feeling worldly with her new knowledge of men.

“Let me erase that pleased look on your face,” he said as he rose from the tub to dry himself, “by saying that you could have cost us much with your insistence on being a maid.”

“Is that an ‘I told you so'?” she said, frowning with irritation.

He shrugged. “Take it as you will. But things could have turned out very differently. What if they'd all attacked me, and I'd been unable to protect you?”

“I would have managed,” she said stiffly. “I might even have saved you. Julian, just because we have slept together, I do not suddenly plan to become cowed into behaving as the obedient, respectful woman you seem to want. I am a real woman, with my own ideas, not some doll you can pose.”

He dropped the towel and came toward her where she sat on the bed. She leaned back to look up at him, a little intimidated, a lot aroused by his nudity. She thought he might be angry, but his expression was playful.

“A doll I can pose?” he echoed, pushing her shoulder until she was forced to lie back on the bed.

He tried to take away her towel, but she found herself clutching it to her, feeling uneasy as a shaft of sunlight lit her body.

“I want to see you pose again,” he whispered, ignoring the towel, but taking her arms up over her head. “In the painting, your back was arched. I remember each brushstroke as if I'd watched it painted.”

She squirmed now, not enjoying the sensation of being compared to a work of art. “You know that was Roger's vision, very idealized. I'm not a fantasy woman.”

“Are you saying you aren't the model?”

“Of course not! But it wasn't real! I was just a body to him, not a real person. How can I even begin to measure up?”

“It isn't a contest,” he said, sliding the towel off her belly. He gently adjusted the jewel until it rested between her breasts.

She held her breath, frozen, wanting him to touch her again, yet feeling uneasy about…everything else.

With a sigh, he straightened. She could not mistake
his arousal now, but he turned away and reached for his clean drawers.

“Julian, I must warn you,” she said, after sitting up and pulling her chemise over her head. She tossed her hair, tried to be flippant, but spoke seriously. “Don't fall in love with me.”

He gave her a casual glance over his shoulder even as he continued to pull up his trousers.

She was irritated by his nonchalance. “We don't have a future together, because I probably don't have one. I'll enjoy whatever life is given to me, and I want more than to be a subservient wife.”

He faced her now, and she didn't like the tenderness that shone in his gray eyes.

“Rebecca, none of us ever knows what the future brings. Never assume yours will be short.”

Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to say, “And never assume you'll have what you want from me in the end.”