Shayla Black (11 page)

Again, he took her mouth feverishly—then reached for the buttons at her back. The dress yielded quickly, and he pushed it off her arms, down her body. Seconds later, his hot hands cupped her breasts through her thin chemise, her flesh pushed up by her corset. He thumbed her nipples slowly, unerringly. Tingles tore through her body, making her pant and ache. She couldn’t hold in her moan.

She had never felt like this, so wanton, so needy. Maddie arched toward his touch, silently begging for more.

Brock’s fingers found the corset’s strings. “You wear too many damn clothes, Maddie.”

Her mind registered his breathy words as he removed the cinching garment, then yanked on the faded pink ribbon of her chemise. The delicate garment fell down her shoulders, to her upper arms, gaping open across her breasts. Before she could utter a word, he shoved it aside impatiently and fastened his hot mouth over her bare breast. He suckled hard, tongue teasing her nipple. She felt a jolt of ecstasy curl in her belly, the crash between her thighs. Her womb clenched. He filled her with an ecstasy she’d never known.

Her world tilted crazily, his tantalizing tongue swirling about her sensitive flesh. As his mouth moved to her other breast, Maddie blindly reached out for support in her off-kilter world. Her tense fingers found the chair’s curved back. She grabbed tight, the cool wood her anchor as desire overwhelmed.

Then he bit at her aching nipples, gently abrading. The ache multiplied, and Maddie cried out with need. She tossed her head back, arching her breasts closer to his magical mouth.

Dear God, how was she going to withstand such pleasure?

The tight clench between her thighs coiled mercilessly. Hot want joined the fray, creating a throb that pulsed with demand. She tried to wind her legs around him, but the width of the chair frustrated her. Still, she pressed herself against every inch of his steely erection, which had grown thicker, heavier, and rocked against him.

“
Brock...” she cried out throatily.

He grabbed her hips and moved against her. She threw her head back with a moan as sensation cascaded over her. God, she wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside her, satisfying this hungry, growing desire.

“
What do you want, Maddie?” His normally smooth voice was as rough as gravel.

She simply moaned, uncertain what to say.

“
You’ll have to tell me,” he coaxed, then flicked his tongue across each of her sensitive nipples, standing up for his attention. “Tell me.”

“
You,” she panted, arching toward his mouth. “I want you.”

He slid his hands beneath her skirts, fingers trailing fire up her thighs. The back of his knuckles brushed her wet, aching flesh. She gasped, staring at him, silently begging for more.

“
What do you want from me?” he coaxed, then laved one tingling breast again as he cupped the other in his hand, rolling the hard tip between his fingers.

Maddie swayed closer, arching against him, still rocking against his stiff arousal. She needed relief from the unrelenting ache, but he was only making the desire grow hotter, higher.

“
Make the ache stop. Fill me. Make love to me.” Without awaiting his reply, she reached for his shirt and ripped the buttons free, running frantic hands against the taut flesh of his chest. “Please.”

Brock nipped her neck with his seeking mouth. “God, I want to, Maddie. So damn badly. You have no idea.”

As she shoved his shirt over his head, their naked chests met. Maddie gasped and pressed feverish kisses over his steely shoulder, up his neck, tasting the salty tang of his skin.

“
I will take you constantly. Repeatedly. Over and over. I’ll give you more pleasure than you dreamed,” he vowed.

Yes. A thousand times yes. Blood roared through her body, and she felt the rise of tension and pleasure between her legs coming to some peak she didn’t understand. Brock nipped hungrily at her breasts, and her sex clenched with empty, aching need. He could make it better. He could give her what she needed.

“
Please…” she begged, feeling dizzy and overcome.

“
You never have to ask, Maddie. I’ll give you anything you want. Fuck you day and night. All you have to do is marry me.”

His words pierced Maddie’s haze of lust. “What?”

“
Marry me.”

Her heart skidded to a stop. Lord, how had she allowed herself to get so carried away in his arms?

Feeling stricken, Maddie scrambled off his lap, legs trembling beneath her. She struggled with her chemise and stared at him in accusation. “Don’t you want me?”

He stood and reached for his shirt. Maddie was horrified to see she’d torn away most of the buttons. The slabs of his muscled chest lay exposed, his skin burnished and taut. Lower, she saw the thick proof of his desire through his breeches, rigid and irrefutable.

How had she lost control of herself so quickly? He had played her body so completely. Furious tears pricked her eyes.

“
You can see very well that I want you.”

He reached out, knuckles skimming the swollen tips of her breasts, which she had not been able to cover. Need screamed inside her again. She bit her lip against the pleasure.

“
Marry me, Maddie. I swear, I’ll give you all you desire and more.”

Feeling betrayed by him, by her own body, she backed away, fumbling with the ties of her chemise. “No. Never.”

“
Then you have the answer to your question.” Anger hummed in Brock’s voice.

With that, he retrieved his coat and gloves, then slammed out the door, disappearing into the night.

#

Brock felt Maddie’s tense fingers graze his arm as he escorted her into Lord and Lady Moore’s ballroom.

He’d been half-certain Maddie would turn down the invitation from her mother’s cousin. He’d been even more certain she would find a way to avoid accompanying him. He supposed his terse note yesterday hadn’t been bad strategy, since she’d had little time to consider his demand. The fact it accompanied a new and very expensive dress in exotic bronze that made her glow radiantly had not hurt his cause. But it was killing him to wonder if she’d worn the lacy undergarments he had sent with the dress.

Remembering the taste of her breast in his mouth and her wet flesh through his breeches, he almost wished they were back at that damned cottage. Unfortunately, the restraint he had exercised three nights ago had cost him many hours of lost sleep and erotic dreams. He’d even had a difficult time focusing yesterday when he’d met with his brilliant engineer.

Being all alone with Maddie would only give his crumbling resistance a ripe opportunity to collapse. The gasping wonder of her response had fired his blood into a searing need. Her response made him certain that no other man had aroused her so thoroughly. And that made him ache all the more.

Brock shoved the thought away before he embarrassed himself in polite company. Tonight was business. Duke of Cropthorne was in attendance. Finally, he hoped to share drinks, a game of cards, and meaningful conversation with the man about his favorite subject, money.

As they descended the stairs, the butler announced them. “The Viscountess of Wolcott and Mr. Brock Taylor.”

Instantly, heads swerved in their direction. He heard a gasp or two. Maddie lifted her chin, mouth grim. He pulled her closer. The
ton
needed to see them together, to get used to the idea that one of their own stood at his side. Now that they’d been seen together in public twice in a short period, gossip about a pending wedding was sure to start. He smiled.

Lady Moore made her way through the throng to greet Maddie, her face composed, if curious. “Lady Wolcott, how wonderful to see you out and about again. I’d begun to think we would lose you to Hampstead forever.”

Maddie turned on her smile, transforming her into a stunning beauty, complete with a lush ruby mouth. “It seems an age since I’ve seen you. Thank you for the invitation. Do you know Mr. Taylor?”

“
I do not,” said Lady Moore crisply.

Maddie turned to him. “Mr. Taylor, meet Lady Moore.”

Brock took up the lady’s hand and brought it to his lips for a proper greeting. “How pleasant to meet you, my lady.”

“
Mr. Taylor.” She nodded and extracted her hand, clearly wishing him elsewhere.

Not that Brock was surprised. Social acceptance would not happen overnight. He could be patient.

Without another word to Brock, Lady Moore turned back to Maddie. “And Aimee, how is the little darling?”

“
Wonderful. She’s energetic and talkative, but such a dear.”

“
Splendid. Please refresh yourselves.” She pointed to a room down the hall containing a full table of pastries and delectable treats. “I must greet the rest of my guests.”

With that, Lady Moore turned away and disappeared into the crowd again.

Brock smiled wryly. “Apparently I am not her favorite guest.”

“
Did you expect to be? Look around. People are stunned.”

Indeed, Brock could see with a glance that most of the ballroom stared. Ladies whispered behind fans and dance cards, while gentlemen merely cast him glances ranging from disapproving to curious.

He laughed. “You know what we must do, don’t you?”

“
Leave?”

His grin widened. “No. We must dance.”

Brock led her to the floor, nearly filled with couples lined up in a waltz, and spun her round to join the others. He ignored the crowd’s stares and whispers.

His hands met Maddie’s just as their gazes connected. He felt a zing of awareness, an instant urge to remove her dress and bare all her silken secrets just before he slid the aching length of his cock inside her. Her scent of jasmine and vanilla swirled around him. Lord, he wanted her. Desire was fast becoming a madness he could scarcely fight.

“
Where did you learn to dance?” Surprise widened her gray eyes.

Brock toyed with the idea of telling her that he, as a grown man, had hired people to teach him every social grace. Why remind her that he had not been born wealthy?

“
You look beautiful, Maddie.”

Her gaze grew guarded at his compliment. “I truly think we should leave.”

“
Nonsense.” He pulled her closer, and sent her an amused smile. “I’m just settling in.”

#

Later that evening, Brock approached the card table, his heart thundering. There sat the Duke of Cropthorne, playing cards with another gent. Quietly, Brock sat beside the man whose help—and money—he needed for the railroad and waited for his opportunity.

At first, Cropthorne did not lift his head from his cards. His sleek black hair was cut to razor perfection. His equally black brows slashed over dark eyes that revealed no expression. Though fashionably dressed, the precision and severity of his garments conveyed his exacting standards. Cropthorne never engaged in any activity that might cause tongues to wag. Ever.

Perhaps the duke would not speak to him. To approach him, Brock would breach etiquette, which was bound to lift a brow or two.

“
I’m done for the evening,” Cropthorne said suddenly, pushing his cards across the table with a disgusted sigh. “Damnable luck.”

The man at his side shot Cropthorne a happy smirk, then scooped up his winnings. “You do not have your father’s luck with cards, your grace.”

“
Because I do not cheat.”

With an awkward nod, the gent murmured a farewell and left.

“
Perhaps I can improve your luck,” Brock said into the thick silence.

Cropthorne turned his way. “Can you, Mr. Taylor?”

Surprise blindsided Brock.

It must have shown because Cropthorne laughed. “Yes, I know who you are.”

He stared at the man, wondering when and how Cropthorne had become acquainted with his name. No matter. Here was his opportunity.

“
Don’t be surprised. Everyone wants to know somebody who can make money multiply faster than rabbits. Drink?” He motioned to a servant.

“
Indeed.” Brock took champagne from the tray and sipped.

“
How do you plan to change my luck?” Cropthorne asked without preamble.

“
Railroads. London to Birmingham. I am looking for a partner.”

Cropthorne said nothing, clearly mulling the thought.

“
The industrial possibilities are endless,” Brock added. “First class passenger service could be quite plush and fares charged in accordance. We could provide second class service that caters to the working class. The line could eventually be extended to the Scottish border and perhaps into Edinburgh. We will line the route with profitable hotels. Within a year or two, we should be fully functional. I have consulted with some very shrewd people, engineers, experts on commerce. I’ve little doubt you would make your money back in three years or less.”