At Least Once More (7 page)

“Please, Gareth.”

He couldn’t say for certain whether it was the plea in her voice, the warm, moist caress of her breath as she teased his ear or her playful nip of his earlobe that sent him over the edge. Maybe it was a combination of all three. No woman had ever begged him with such an innocent tone. No woman had ever played him so. He wouldn’t, couldn’t walk away and leave his Belle in such a state. When he levered her hips away, her teeth gripped his ear harder. “Belle,” he growled. “I need a little maneuvering room.”

“Oh.”

There was that innocent tone that tied him in knots again. One part wanted to protect her while the other part, the one throbbing painfully in his breeches and crying out, “mine”, cared only for claiming her. The primal part won as she leaned away. Her chestnut nether curls glistened with her arousal. He fumbled with the fastenings of his breeches. She was a hellion who deserved it fast and hard.

Once again, he said a silent thanks that she wasn’t a virgin. Because no virgin would have accepted him so willingly into her body, then allowed him to watch. He’d shoved aside the small bit of jealousy over the unnamed man who’d introduced Belle to these delights, the man who’d no doubt enjoyed the ride. At least with her maidenhead gone, he didn’t have to worry about hurting her. His cock leaped from his pants once freed. He could just sit back and enjoy this ride.

Palming his heavy arousal, he guided her hips until the head of his cock kissed the fine hair of her mound. With the thumb and forefinger of his free hand, he parted her folds. Her clitoris was swollen despite her recent release. He wanted to suck on it, lap at it, until she spent against his mouth, but that would have to wait for another time.

He slid his shaft along her dewy path. When the head gleamed with her juices, he found the weeping heat of her pussy and breached the entrance. Her muscles clasped him as if a vice. “So tight.”

She gasped and shifted her hips, urging him deeper.

“So impatient.” He chuckled. But then again, wasn’t he? Fast and hard had been his plan. However, now that her sheath gripped his cock, he wanted to draw out the moment.

He retreated until he popped free.

“No!” she wailed.

He claimed her lips again. Any more of that and the servants would definitely come running. Heat flushed his skin. He couldn’t wait until he had her in a proper bedroom. Then she’d be free to scream all she wanted.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth when he pushed inside her again, this time going twice as deep. God, she fit him better than any glove. Maybe it had been a while since she’d last had sex—

She spread her hips wider, invited him deeper, and all thoughts vanished save the one demanding he bury himself to the hilt in her molten heat.

Wrapping one arm about her hips and the other about her shoulders, he twisted until she lie beneath him. With one booted foot on the floor and the other braced against the arm of the settee—God, he hoped it proved sturdy—he slid his arms from beneath her. With his right hand, he grabbed the arm of the settee above him, while he cupped her bottom with his left hand. He squeezed the firm muscles of her ass, a rider’s bottom, and a pleasant one. The urgent need to brand her as his had him holding her still as he retreated from her cunny…and thrust another inch or two deeper, and all the while he plundered her sweet mouth.

When they had more time, he would definitely use his lips and tongue to explore her body.

He rolled his hips and slid deeper still. Would her nipples be like ripe strawberries?

He swallowed her little mewl on his next retreat and return. Would her juices taste as rich as she smelled?

He groaned, and clingy resistance caressed every inch as he buried all but an inch or so of his throbbing cock deep inside her.

Her breath caught and he broke the kiss. Resting his forehead on hers, he asked, “How long has it been?”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Hmm?” She slid her hands beneath his riding jacket and tugged the linen of his shirt from the back of his breeches. With the tips of her fingers, she skimmed the muscles of his back. He repressed a shudder, then a flinch when she dug her fingernails into the skin. “Gareth, please.” She canted her hips forward.

Long enough, apparently. He withdrew then plunged back inside, gritting his teeth when her muscles resisted before yielding. His breath caught as he pulled out once more and thrust back, hard, breaking through the last bit of resistance, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

Annabelle’s eyes widened, her mouth forming an O. She arched her back and scored her nails in deeper.

What the hell? Though his balls tightened, demanding he ride her hard, he paused. “Did I hurt you?”

She inhaled a shuddery breath.

Either it really had been a long time since she’d lain with a man, or—

“I’m fine.” She tilted her hips and her juices coated his cock as her muscles relaxed, inviting him yet even deeper. “Don’t stop.”

A low groan tore from his throat as he withdrew slightly. Then he once more buried himself balls deep. He dug his fingers into the brocade of the settee. He didn’t know how long he’d last at this rate. Her silky, snug pussy milked his pulsing cock.

“Yes,” she hissed. She moved her hands restlessly across his back and tilted her hips. “More.”

His Belle was a wanton, and he’d give her exactly what she craved. Need tightened his balls. He let the excited whimpers issuing from Belle’s throat set the tempo. Fast and hard.

The settee beneath them creaked. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the arm tighter, driving into her heat harder. His balls drew up. He retreated, intent on spilling his seed outside her body.

Her hands flew to his shoulders, her fingers digging deep. “Don’t go.” Her muscles tightened. “I need…”

He stilled and sucked in a deep breath.

She rotated her hips.

“Don’t,” he ground out.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he slid deeper. Locked legs—strength no doubt garnered from years in the saddle—prevented his withdrawal. She swirled her hips faster and faster. “Yes. Yes.” Her back arched and her cunny gripped his cock with rhythmic contractions. “Yes!”

“No!” He tried to pull out, but it was too late. His seed erupted, pulsing in time to her spasms, filling her channel. His leg kicked out. He grasped the settee and the taut muscles of her ass harder. The settee let out a loud squeak of protest, and then collapsed beneath them.

He rolled to the side as the last drop squeezed from his cock. A primal satisfaction roared deep inside him even as concern for Annabelle made him ask, “Are you all right?” He propped himself on an elbow, the fine carpet beneath him, and the shambles of the settee beneath Annabelle.

She laughed.

He smiled. They weren’t in a bedroom, but it would do. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders. Her skirt was still bunched at her waist. The evidence of their coupling dewed the hair shielding her pussy.

Need clawed at his gut. The need to have this woman by his side. In his bed. Marriage to her wouldn’t be such a bad business.

She scooted upright and tossed her skirts down. Her gaze swept the remnants of the settee, and a flush stained her cheeks. “However will we explain this mess to Markham?”

Jealousy clouded his vision. “Markham can go to the devil.” Why had she mentioned him now? As if Gareth needed a reminder of where they were, a reminder of his earlier suspicions.

“Not a very nice thing to say about the man whose settee you just broke while engaging in…” Her lashes dropped to shield her gaze, “…illicit activities.”

Righting his breeches, he said, “A little too late for modesty now, my dear.”

Surely he imagined the hurt that flittered across her face before she adopted an air of indifference. “Indeed, Your Grace.”

Irritation chased him to his feet. He proffered a hand, but Belle ignored it.

“Pardon me.” With one hand clasping her skirts above her knees, she shooed him away with the other.

Fists clenched, he shuffled aside. The ice in her tone chilled him. Where had the warm woman of moments before gone?

He wanted to kick himself. Clumsy oaf that he was, he’d scared her away, of course.

She edged off the settee, kneeled on the floor, and used the table to help herself to her feet. Once steadied, she shook out her skirts. She busied her hands with righting her hair as she walked to the door. By the time she touched the knob, only the flush high on her cheekbones and fullness of her lips left any indication that she’d just been thoroughly tumbled.

His cock stirred. He’d never before spilled his seed inside a woman—had her body wring every last drop from his. And, regardless of his previous decisions not to sire children, he found himself wanting to do it again. Besides, if he and Belle had a child, then the dukedom would pass back into the rightful family branch.

A child. Yet another reason to marry. He had no doubt if she conceived it would be his child. She’d been too tight for her to have been with a man in recent times. His cock hardened. She sheathed him like the finest glove.

God, he was like a young lad again. He must speak to William soon to ensure nothing more untoward—on either his or Annabelle’s parts—happened again.

The door swung open, sending Annabelle hopping backward with a stifled squeak. Markham’s gaze swept her from head to toe, then Gareth, and finally fell on the settee. “I’d beg pardon for being such a poor host, but it seems as if my company wouldn’t have been appreciated anyway.”

Annabelle ducked her head.

“Now who’s being the ass?” Gareth growled, walking to Annabelle’s side.

Markham inclined his head. “Forgive the poor jest, Miss Abbott. It’s just this will be the third time we’ve had that settee repaired. Maybe my lady wife will relent and find a sturdier piece of furniture.”

Annabelle’s head snapped up. “Third time. Truly?”

Gareth could see the curiosity sparkling in her eyes, but he couldn’t determine if there was any jealousy as well. “Yes, old man. Do share. Exactly what kind of entertaining do you do in here?”

Annabelle flushed. “Don’t be rude, Gareth.” She focused her gaze on Markham. “How is Lady Markham?”

A broad grin split Markham’s face. “She’s sick as a dog, but apparently that’s a good indication that all is well with my heir.”

Annabelle clapped her hands. “Congratulations, my lord.”

Relief washed through Gareth. Whatever his earlier suspicions, Markham and Annabelle were not lovers. She wouldn’t be so excited about hearing the countess was pregnant, surely. But then, who had she been with? Thornton, or someone else? Why else would the lord be relieved to have escaped a marriage to Belle?

Gareth’s cock stirred. Anyone who’d sampled her delights wouldn’t be quick to give her up. Even now he fought the urge to carry her to the nearest bedroom and have his wicked way with her again. However, dissolute as Markham might be, Gareth doubted the man would approve of that plan.

He frowned. Unless the Markhams regularly played the role of chaperone to illicit rendezvous. Was that why the settee had been broken so often?

Gareth crossed his arms. “I believe Belle and I have satisfactorily answered any questions she might have had. However, I have some of my own.”

****

Anger roiled Annabelle’s blood. Why was Gareth being a horse’s ass? Minutes ago, he’d brought her such pleasure, but then he’d grown distant, and when Markham appeared, outright rude. And how dare he presume to know her mind. What had just happened might have answered one question—whether he desired her body—but it had left her with more questions.

Whatever Gareth had to ask was of no consequence at the moment. For her, there had already been too much excitement this morning. “Really, my lord, His Grace’s questions can wait. I find a headache coming on. Please give my felicitations to Lady Markham.” She brushed past Markham without awaiting anyone’s leave.

The short heels of her riding boots clacked decisively on the stairs as she headed to the foyer, where Farley waited with her riding hat and gloves. How had he known…?

She shook her head. She’d never understand the foresight of English servants. It was as if they listened at doors—heat flushed her skin as she imagined what they would have heard outside the morning room door—but yet they all managed to be exactly where they were needed most.

“Thank you, Farley.” She settled the jaunty hat on her head and slid the pin in place before taking her gloves. She pulled on the soft leather as he bowed and opened the door. Bella waited patiently, a stable boy at her head. Beside her was Gareth’s large gelding.

“Annabelle, wait.” Gareth’s voice said from behind her.

She was in no mood for his company. She marched to her mare and let the stable boy give her a leg up into the saddle, ignoring the sting of abused muscles. One would think that years atop a horse would have prepared her for riding a man, but obviously not. Heat that had nothing to do with anger left her knees further weakened. She settled her weight, flinching at the tenderness between her thighs.

“Miss Abbott.” Gareth was halfway down the walk.

She clicked her tongue and Bella broke into a trot. He could choke on her dust. The irritation over his rudeness eclipsed the delightful morning room interlude.

When she heard the sound of hoof beats behind her, she spurred Bella into a canter. Damn Society and its rules requiring sedate walks through the streets. It was early yet, they were but a few houses away from William’s, and she’d be damned if she’d abide that man—who’d taken a special moment in her life and trod on it under a boot heel—to accompany her home.

She bit her lip as Bella’s pace bombarded her nerve endings with little jolts of pleasure-pain that only served to remind her of the questions and feelings that had landed her in her current predicament. Though being so thoroughly compromised by a duke wouldn’t be considered such a bad thing as long as he did right by her. He would do his duty, wouldn’t he?

Not soon enough, she arrived at the townhouse William had purchased after his marriage. Tossing her reins to the stable boy even as she slid from the saddle, she said, “See to Bella, please.” Normally she enjoyed rubbing the horse down, but this morning she just wanted a hot bath to ease the throbbing soreness between her legs and a cool cloth to ease the throbbing behind her eyes.