Lady Northam's Wicked Surrender (2 page)

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An hour later, Rowena was in bed, although peaceful rest proved elusive. She patted her pillow and turned on her side for the hundredth time. How many days would it take Simon to arrive? Would she manage to get through her visit without having to see him at all? And, if she did see him, what would she say? Could she ask him the question that had burned for so many years in her heart?
Why did you abandon me?

She still couldn’t fathom the answer. He’d promised to write to her when he’d gone off to the War in Spain. She thought he intended to propose upon his return, but instead he’d never contacted her at all. His best friend, Paul, convinced her that Simon was a rake, never the type to settle down. That she was one of many conquests. She’d been devastated. Their two months of courtship had been nothing more than an amusement to him. By the time he’d returned to England over a year and a half later, she’d agreed to marry Paul.

Now he was coming back, threatening to turn her entire world upside down again. Could she survive it a second time?

Sighing, she shifted and turned her body to the opposite side. It had been so long since she’d seen him at the wedding. Only a few weeks afterward, he’d taken another post in India. Rowena wondered how he looked now. Did he still wear his sideburns short and neatly trimmed? Was he as tall as she remembered?

With a loud sigh, she turned on her back and stared at the ceiling, invisible in the pitch-dark room. Barely a sliver of light shown through the curtains at the window. There was nothing to distract her from her thoughts. As much as she dreaded seeing him, she couldn’t help her curiosity. A part of her wanted to see his face, to stand beside his tall, muscular frame and—and—
What?
Yell at him? Strike his cheek? Kiss him? She wanted to…

Sleep. Rowena’s eyelids were heavy and she couldn’t keep them open any longer. Exhaustion overpowered her thoughts, and she fell into a deep sleep, filled with vivid dreams.

Warmth spread over her, across her chest, down her arms and thighs. Despite the chill in the air, Rowena twisted in the blankets, her body flushed all over. Her mind lost in the dream.

 She was lying down in her chemise and a tall, broad shouldered man was coming towards her intently. He climbed into the bed and lightly gripped her sides. Little trickles of electricity spread through her skin.

When his fingers spread wide and stroked her from her belly all the way up to her breasts, she forgot to breathe. He palmed them firmly and she wondered what it would be like to have him touch her without the fabric in between.

The man’s touch was bold, hungry and she arched into it, her body curving like a bowstring. Tension spread down to her thighs and she longed for him to push them apart. He leaned down in the darkness and she gripped his hair, pulling him toward her. Their mouths fused and a heady rush went through her as his tongue laved hers, filling her even as he demanded complete control.

He pinned her arms to her sides and she melted under him, pliant and willing. Something about the way he stroked his tongue over hers, the low sound he made, stirred a memory inside her.

Rowena looked into the eyes of the man leaning over her and in the darkness, recognized them. Simon. In her dream, he was as she remembered. Intense blue-gray eyes, a strong jaw and a taut muscular chest that she’d always longed to touch.

Before she could speak, he pinched her nipple and rolled it between his fingers. “Ah!” A sharp twinge of pain gave way to exquisite pleasure, which snaked its way down to pool at the juncture of her thighs. He took his time, teasing and pinching, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing her skin in a delicious fashion. Her lower belly clenched under the onslaught.

With ragged breaths, she watched as he freed her breast to suckle it. Though she was now free to move her arms again, she stayed still. The chilly night air spread over her puckered nipple when he lifted his head. She shivered in response.

“I missed you,” he whispered, then lifted her thighs and spread her legs open. He ran his hands under the chemise now, stroking her skin where he had never explored before. The sensation of being spread before him caused a pearl of moisture to drip from her cleft. Her sex squeezed in anticipation.
Why hadn’t they done this years ago?

Simon unfastened his breeches. When he lowered himself again, she gripped his shoulders and leaned up to take his mouth. Their tongues danced in a slow rhythm that sent fissures down her spine and warmed her pussy.

She’d longed for this. Waited for years to have his body draped over hers. The solid weight made her feel secure, the way the hard planes of his chest rested over hers made her snuggle underneath him. Her nipples scratching against the fabric between them sent another surge of desire through her.

His mouth moved from her lips, trailing down to lick the edge of her ear before he bit gently on the lobe. His hand reached between her thighs to stroke her sensitive flesh. The feel of his rough thumb over the slick folds made her shudder.

“Simon!”

She needed him to take her. It all seemed so foolish now. The years apart, the waiting, the anger, the unrequited desire that buried itself deep within her soul. She’d always wanted Simon. If only reality could have been as good as this dream.

Simon’s finger breeched her opening, slid deep inside. Her muscles squeezed over him, sucking him in.

Her head rolled back and she moaned his name again.

Chapter Two

Simon sat with his feet propped on the small desk. The unwritten letter lay across it. He’d managed to write all of two sentences. He should wait until tomorrow to finish it. In fact, he should be abed like everyone else. Waverly could wait.

 Though it had been a long, sodden ride to the Chilton estate, he hadn’t wanted to stop. What was the point of staying at an inn when he could be at home with his family within a couple of hours? Despite the warning of the coachman, he’d pressed on through the night, arriving just after the stroke of midnight.

Servants had already prepared the room next to Millicent’s for him. He missed his niece and nephew and couldn’t wait to see his family tomorrow. He’d seen them so rarely in the last few years and their two visits to India had not been long enough.

There was someone else he missed just as much, if not more. Rowena. At first, he’d stayed away out of anger, then out of respect for Paul’s death. He couldn’t wait anymore. The years had not eased his longing for her and he hoped that she missed him as much as he missed her. It was time to put the past behind them.

He wanted to believe they could make a future together. The desire consumed his mind, setting a blaze where common sense should be. What if she was not the Rowena he remembered? What if she was not the sensitive, kind-hearted soul he’d fallen in love with? He could be in love with a memory, lost in the dream of what might have been.

There was plenty of time to think about it later. Right now, he needed to get some sleep. Simon removed his jacket and shoes and had taken off his shirt when he heard distressed sounds emanating from the other room. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he’d even heard his name. He knew that Millicent was sometimes plagued with nightmares, so he set down the shirt, grabbed the candle, and hurried over to the next room.

He burst open the door to find a woman in the bed, not his niece. He considered exiting the room and calling for a chambermaid, but the woman writhed about so, he worried that she’d hurt herself in her sleep. Closing the door so as not to awaken the household, he turned back to her.

Darkness covered most of the room, but the dim light revealed that she had dark hair and a slender form. He set the candle down and carefully reached over to shake her awake. Her hair covered her face, so he could not make out her features.

The simple contact was enough to make the skin of his arms tingle. She felt warm under his fingers and he realized it was probably a bad idea to intervene. He’d been without the company of a woman for a very long time. Best to wake her and make his escape as quickly as possible.

“Madam!” he called, uncertain of her station. He shook her again. “Madam, please awaken!”

Her eyes flew open and she turned her face towards him. “Simon,” she whispered. It was Rowena Sharpe. No, Lady Northam, he reminded himself. It was difficult for him to think of her that way, even after all of this time. Though he’d forgiven Paul for falling in love with her, Simon still had difficulty accepting that she’d married someone else.
Why, Rowena?
He wanted to ask her, but now was not the time.

Now, she was here, in the same house with him, lifting her body towards him.

With heavy-lidded eyes, she took his face in her hands. He did not get the opportunity to reply. Her lips devoured his and he could not resist anymore. He kissed her back eagerly.

Her lips tasted of peppermint. The sweet, refreshing flavor spread over his mouth as he laved his tongue over hers. He couldn’t get enough.

Little nails pressed into his back as she clutched him and greedily devoured his mouth. He cupped her neck gently, wrapping his other arm around her.

He had no idea what good fortune made her drop all inhibition and kiss him so wantonly, but he was grateful. Never in his vivid imaginings had he thought she would be so eager for him at their first meeting.

Soft sounds came from her lips as she deepened the kiss. The moans went from his ears to sear their way down to his cock. His chest burned as desire wound its way through him.

He looked into her dark green eyes. Rowena was his. It had been so long and no one else ignited the desire within him the way she did. Past and present mingled in his mind as he kissed and caressed her. The smell of rosewater washed over him and he remembered she’d always favored this scent.

Unable to help himself, a low groan escaped him.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

He wanted to. If it were possible, he would go to his grave with her touch on his skin. Though he’d been tender in the past, never pushing her into intimacy, now he wanted to take the desire she brazenly offered him.

He needed to brand his scent, his touch, his name over her body. Why had he waited this long? Out of respect for Paul? Paul, who had married the only woman Simon had ever loved?

A little of the old anger rose within him again. He could have had Rowena already, if it weren’t for Paul.

Simon caressed her as he skimmed his fingers along her torso, lifting off her muslin shift. Her sensuous olive skin seemed almost amber under the candlelight. Watching the light play across her breasts and belly made his cock swell. He wanted to taste every inch of her, wanted to run his hands over
every
part, in every way possible.

Heart thumping, he leaned forward to kiss her and let his hand fall to her thighs. He wanted a taste, but was too cautious to just throw her legs over his shoulders. Rowena was too exquisite to handle roughly and he had dreamed of this moment for so long. He would not spoil it by frightening her.

He took her mouth slowly at first, warming her up to him. Matching the strokes of his tongue, he circled his fingers over her folds, slipping them inside to touch her clit. Rowena whimpered. Her pussy was already wet and the knowledge made him rock hard. As he continued stroking, she slid her tongue across his lips and lightly bit the corner of his lower lip.

Emboldened by her response, he pressed his fingers deeper inside and let his thumb circle the sensitive nub. She cried out. “Please, Simon.”

Tremors went through him at the sound of his name. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such pleasure at a word.

Letting her back rest against his arm, he shifted her so that he could play more deeply between her legs. His fingers pumped inside as his thumb continued to tease her.

“More.” Her back arched.

He bent down to take one of her nipples between his teeth. Not too hard, but enough so that they closed over the tight bud. His hand continued to delve in and out of her cunt.

She reached her hand down and pulled his wrist toward her, silently demanding him to press harder. He obeyed and was rewarded by the sound of her heavy breathing.

Faster and faster he moved, keeping time with her low cries. Pearls of moisture dripped over his hand and he could tell her orgasm was close.

He licked her nipple, letting his tongue swirl around it. Then, as her body tightened, he gently bit down again, rubbing his teeth over the tip.

Rowena keened so loudly he had to hold her head in his hands and cover her mouth with his.

Her breathing slowed. He could hear her gulping in air as her body calmed itself.

“Rowena,” he said. He lifted his fingers to his lips and let her taste wash over his tongue. Sweet, with a hint of saltiness, she was beyond anything he’d imagined.

Her eyes opened. She leaned forward to press her lips to his. With cool fingers, she let her hand trace the line down the center of his chest. He sucked in a breath when her hand hovered over his trousers. When she looked into eyes, he lost the ability to breathe.

Never had she been so bold with him. Their prior experience had been limited to kisses in the garden and once--just once--his fingers had stroked her breasts. He’d never touched her skin to skin the way he’d done tonight. Only her lips, her neck.

She would undo him if she caressed his straining cock now. As much as he wanted to spill himself under her exquisite touch, he could not risk spoiling their first time together.

A creaking sound down the hall caught his attention. It sounded like a footstep on the stairs. “Someone is coming,” he said. “I had better go.”

“But—”

He put a finger to her lips. “Do not worry. I have every intention of finishing this.” He looked down at her rounded breasts and soft thighs. “Soon.” He shifted so that he could adjust his trousers. Then, he laid her down and slid the sheets over her, tucking them tightly around her so he would not be tempted to touch her again.