His Wicked Seduction (26 page)

Lucien parted her thighs and inserted a finger to find the wetness that awaited him there. He praised her readiness for him with soft words and caressed her inner folds tenderly before dipping deeper into her. After he tortured her for what seemed like an age, he spread her legs wider and moved back to set himself at her entrance. He did not even remove his trousers; the rough cloth slid against the silky skin of her inner thighs and she gasped helplessly at the sensation. When he thrust himself deep into her, Horatia cried out at the soreness mixed with the pleasure of him, the hard invasion that drove her mad with ecstasy.

Lucien moved to sit back on his heels, still deep inside her as he gazed at the point where their bodies united. He withdrew and thrust so hard that she arched off the bed, offering herself up. Lucien reached forward and clasped her throat with his hand, then slid that hand down between her breasts and over her smooth and slightly rounded belly to the apex of her thighs. That same wandering hand now circled the bundle of nerves he’d only teased before. He pinched and Horatia screamed at the responding climax that shook her to her very core. She felt like a shattered mirror, pieces of herself scattered in a thousand tiny reflections.

“Oh my God,” she moaned as he pinched her again and she felt herself unraveling from the inside out.

“I prefer to be called Lucien.”

Horatia was too lost in the thrill of being connected to him to share in his joke as he continued to pump deep into her. It was a savage claiming of her as his woman and she reveled in the ferocity as he held her captive to the hammer of his hips against hers.

He was close to coming, she could see it in his eyes. But suddenly Lucien pulled out and was turning her over onto her stomach. He reached over her and took two extra pillows and lifted her hips up to slide the pillows underneath them. Her bottom was up in the air and she felt terribly exposed.

“So beautiful, my lovely, sinful Horatia.” His voice was low as he caressed her from the back of her neck down along her spine before reaching her bottom. He swatted her rump and she jerked in response. A tingle of fire shot up her body and a painful throbbing welled up between her thighs all over again.

“That is for torturing me. Consider yourself punished, love.” He kissed each cheek, the sting of his blow turning into delicious warmth. Horatia was shocked how arousing this was. She could not see him, not unless she craned her head over her neck. She had to trust him completely from here.

“Lucien…please…” She shifted her bottom, desperate to entice him to enter her again. He moved over her, his chest sliding along her back as he kissed her neck. Then she felt one of his hands parting her folds, allowing him to push his way inside.

“Yes, yes, there!” The animal in her took over as she rejoiced when he thrust home. She met him with a push of her own hips. He was in to the hilt, his hands now braced on either side of her shoulders as each thrust struck some point deep in her that robbed her of all thought. She cried out as he ravished her, their skin slick with sweat and the aroma of their lovemaking clouding their senses.

That moment nearly robbed Horatia of her soul. When she came it was hard, earth shattering and primitive. She forgot who she was, who he was. There was only this moment, this explosion of the greatest pleasure she’d ever known. Vaguely she was aware of Lucien driving into her at a pace and harshness that would have shamed a stallion and even this thought sent her careening into another wild orgasm.

Lucien shouted incoherently and collapsed on top of her, their bodies still fused together. After a moment, he moved off her and she turned to face him. Limbs tangled and souls locked, they shared breaths and smiles. Words were unnecessary. The look of desire was etched so deeply into Lucien’s face that Horatia felt her eyes burn with tears.

“I’ve been a fool to wait as long as I have.” He gently untied her wrists and rolled her onto her back beneath him. She savored his warmth, enjoying the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek. “Please say you’ll always belong to me.” He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

“I always have.” Her hands glided over his shoulders and down his arms in soothing strokes.

“I want to be able to do this to you every night and every morning. I want to share my life, my name and my soul with you, Horatia.”

“I’ve only ever wanted your heart,” she replied. Lucien smiled tenderly and feathered kisses along her jaw. But now she was shy and unsure. “All these years, when you’ve been with other women? Could you ever be satisfied with just me? How can I be enough?” She was terrified of how he might answer.

“I can’t rid myself of my past, love, but know this—you’ve never been far from my heart or mind. Even when I was determined to be cold to you, you made it hard to do. It is impossible to be without you now. When I’m with you I cannot be sated, when you leave me I want you back at my side. I miss the scent of your skin, the silky texture of your hair against my lips, the blinding smile you hide from the world so often with your shyness. I crave your stories of the stars and your loyalty to those you love. I’m not sure the poets agree what love is, but I think I may have, somehow along the way, fallen in love with you. And I fear I’ve fallen hard. Can I trust you with my heart, Horatia?” Lucien’s voice was shaky and had nothing to do with their recent explosion of passion.

“Oh Lucien…” She kissed him deeply. “Consider your heart safe in my hands.” He slanted his mouth over hers, tongue delving between her lips. When Horatia was finally able to breathe again she remembered that not all was well.

“Cedric knows that we are involved. He gave me an ultimatum. It was to choose between you or my family. I cannot have both. He will never welcome me home again if I choose you.” She tried to explain as calmly as possible but her throat constricted with sadness. What sense did it make for her brother to deny her this? She knew life was not fair, far better than most, but shouldn’t her brother try and even the unfairness out with goodness in her life? Or at the least he should not deny her the right to make herself happy.

Lucien frowned. “I will speak to him. It isn’t fair for you to choose. Neither of us should have to choose between our love for each other and him.” Lucien pulled back the covers for them to slide underneath so that they could be warmer. Once she was tucked against his side, warm and drowsy in his embrace, he buried his lips in her hair, breathing in her scent.

“If we have to choose,” said Horatia, “I choose you, Lucien. I will always choose you.” She nuzzled his neck before sleep claimed her. She did not hear Lucien’s quiet reply.

“And I you, my little stargazer. But I will do everything within my power to see you won’t have to.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Half an hour before Christmas Eve dinner, Lucien paced nervously inside the vast Russell library, waiting for Cedric to arrive. Gone were the last remnants of his misplaced coldness towards Horatia. All that was left was a deep seed of love. He’d spent years salting his soul trying to prevent that seed from taking root. But Horatia had become his sun, his water, and fed that deep seed. Petals were unfurling, roots coiling deep in his heart. He was going to have a long talk with his friend and Cedric would see the light and let Horatia be with him and that was that. There was no going back; he’d crossed the final bridge and burned it to ashes.

The library door opened and Cedric entered, looking as cold as the empty suit of armor that guarded it.

“I received your summons.” His friend seemed to choose his words carefully.

Lucien tried to smile, but his nerves were on edge. “I did not mean to ‘summon’ you. I wished to discuss something of importance.” His stomach felt as though someone had unleashed a bevy of butterflies. It was almost laughable to be so frightened, like a child standing up to their teacher.

Cedric shut the library door and approached Lucien with measured steps, hands clasped behind his back. “Here I am. What do you wish to talk about?”

Cedric’s body language did not bode well, not at all.

“Over the past couple of months I’ve undergone a change of heart. A deep one. A very deep one.” It was not the most flattering or elegant phrasing, but he had to begin this dreaded conversation somehow.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Cedric’s voice held a fair amount of suspicion.

“It was not something I wanted anyone to see, Cedric. Look, what I am trying to tell you…” The words were there, but Cedric’s hard eyes stilled them on Lucien’s tongue, daring him to ask for something he had no right to ask for. Lucien drew a shaky breath before continuing.

“I seek your permission to marry Horatia.” How unlike him, but he had to maintain his control for this brief moment and formality was the simplest way to go.

“So it’s true then? You have your eyes set on my sister?”

Lucien knew Cedric in the way only true friends could and recognized that familiar edge of danger in Cedric’s tone.

“I love her, Cedric…”

“Stop! You
do not
love her. You may love her body and the pleasure it gives but she will not be one more lady in the line of women you leave behind brokenhearted. Not my Horatia.” Cedric’s fists clenched at his side. Even twenty feet apart Lucien did not feel safe.

“Easy, Cedric. I am not that man anymore. Let me explain—”

“I will not listen to your lies, Lucien.” Cedric stormed over and shoved a finger deep into Lucien’s chest. “Save it for the next chit you fancy! You are breaking the rules our League was built on. I demand that you stay away from Horatia. That you won’t even
look
at her.”

“No.” Lucien was weary of controlling himself. Cedric would listen to him, even if he had to bind him to a chair.

Cedric’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I said no. We agreed to the second rule because we did not trust each other with the fairer sex, and rightfully so. But time changes us all. I love Horatia and I wish to wed her. I want a passel of children and her love in my life for the rest of my days. I have asked her to marry me and she has agreed. I came to you for the sake of our friendship and because you are her family. I do not
need
your permission to have her, because I already do.” It was the worst possible to thing to say and Lucien realized it too late.

Cedric’s fist drove into Lucien’s stomach, staggering him back. Cedric followed and landed another solid blow to Lucien’s chest, so hard that he fell back and struck a bookshelf.

“How
dare
you lay claim to her! She is not yours to take!” Cedric swung another fist and Lucien was struck yet again as he was cornered against the shelf.

“And she is not yours to lock away! Horatia always has and always will be her own person. She gifted me with her heart and though I do not even begin to deserve her, she wants me and no one else. So I will have her as my wife and do my best to be worthy. You may not support her decision, but by God you will not punish her for loving me.” Lucien’s body shook with rage as Cedric pulled him back and threw another fist into him. Cedric stumbled into one of the library’s suits of armor, knocking it over with a clang and clatter.

“You’ve already had her, you blackguard?”

Lucien said nothing.

“She’s warmed your bed. She could be with your child even now!” The accusation stung Lucien more from the truth than anything else. Cedric knew him too well.

“Yes,” Lucien said. “And if there is a babe growing in her now, the thought fills me with a love I cannot begin to understand.”

“You say that now. You may even believe it. But it does not matter. I know how you are, how cold you’ve been not just to her, but to other women. I don’t care if my sister is your only chance at salvation, you will not have her. Not while I still draw breath.”

The threat hit Lucien like a bolt of lightning. His senses frazzled as once more Cedric assaulted him with pummeling fists, again beating him back against the bookshelf. Lucien did not fight back. It would do no good.

“What do you mean by that?” Lucien asked.

Cedric puffed up his chest, as though addressing a condemned man. “I demand satisfaction, as is my right. Tomorrow at dawn. Choose a second and your preferred weapon.”

“I will not duel with you, Cedric.” Lucien could not believe it could come to this. The League often joked about Cedric being capable of such things, but none believed it.

“You will, or I will summon the rest of the League here and we will determine how to put you straight for breaking the second rule.”

Lucien knew Cedric would be relentless on the matter, even if the others objected. The thought made his blood run cold. “Very well. I will be in the northern field at dawn with my second. I will bring my weapon of choice.”

“Good.” Cedric’s eyes were filled with both anger and regret, but he said nothing more and turned to leave.

Lucien wanted to unsay the words that had brought them to this point, but Cedric was gone, and Lucien was alone in the library. Pain surged through him, reminders of all of the blows his friend had laid on him.

He stood next to the bookshelf for what felt like an eternity, catching his breath until he realized he was not alone. His sister, Lysandra, came out from behind the shelf he leaned against.

“How long have you been there?” He tried to sound harsh, but his words came out toneless.

Lysandra brushed a fingertip across her eyes, wiping tears from their corners. “Oh Lucien!”

She ran to him and he crumpled weakly in her arms. Falling to his knees on the wood floor, Lysandra was dragged down with him, still cradling him as he gasped for breath. What madness was this? To love Horatia and in the process lose Cedric? It wasn’t fair and he shouldn’t have to choose.

“There, there,” Lysandra said, stroking his hair in the way he’d done countless times for her. After a few minutes, he was able to control himself once more.

“You mustn’t tell a soul, Lysa. No one must know what has happened here. Do you understand?”

“I do. Mother will never forgive you for fighting a duel on Christmas.”

“I may not be around to suffer her ill humor.” Lucien had no fear of death, even at his friend’s hand, but the thought of all those years wasted without Horatia clenched his heart like nothing else.

“Dueling is illegal. You don’t have to go through with it.”

“It’s a matter of honor. Of love.”

“What good are those words on a tombstone?”

“Cedric won’t let up just because I say no. He’ll brand me a coward on top of everything else. Horatia cannot marry a coward. And though marrying a coward is not illegal, it should be.”

“You’re being ridiculous, and you cannot deflect a bullet with your wit.”

Lucien gave pause at Lysandra’s words. “Yes… Duels are ridiculous, aren’t they? No matter. We do what we must, even when it is ridiculous.” He looked over the mess the one sided battle had left in its wake. An idea began to form, and most certainly a ridiculous one.

“So you are going to shoot him?” Lysandra asked.

“I love him like a brother. So far I’ve never shot any of my real brothers, and I won’t start with Cedric. He may be too foolish to understand the truth, but come what may, I will not fire my pistol at him.”

Horatia was the most beautiful woman in the room that night after dinner. Lucien noticed this with a deep pang in his heart, regret and longing for a future he might never have now, left him quiet. All had enjoyed a wonderful feast marred only by Cedric and Lucien’s silence towards one another. Now, family and friends were in the Russell ballroom dancing to a hired string quartet that performed Christmas music. The entire evening took on a greater importance to Lucien than ever before.

He danced with all of the ladies once, but kept returning to Horatia, as though keeping her in his arms would ensure that the night wouldn’t end and dawn wouldn’t have a chance to come. Cedric, for his part, kept his distance, allowing him this night like a final wish before the gallows.

Lucien’s hand rested on the small of her back. He could feel the warmth of her body beneath his palm. Her gloved hand rested on his broad shoulder, fingers lightly curling in a tender possessiveness. Horatia wore his gown and it fit her perfectly, the embroidered silks clung to her in a way he wished he could. She held only radiant smiles tonight, and all sadness was banished by the merriment of the Christmas season. She had never looked lovelier in his eyes and he told her so.

“I am happy, Lucien. You made me so.” She tightened her grip on his shoulder and his hand during their endless waltz.

“Would that I could always make you so happy, my love,” he murmured too softly for her to hear over the music.

When at last the music faded Lady Rochester clapped her hands together.

“All right everyone, enough dancing. It is time for presents!” The announcement was followed by hearty cheers from the younger people in the ballroom. The group proceeded to the large parlor just off the ballroom where a roaring fire greeted them and refreshments of small Christmas puddings and freshly made wassail was ready to be drunk. Lucien’s mind was not on Christmas puddings however. He did his best to ignore the concerned looks his sister kept shooting from across the room.

Just let me enjoy these last few hours…please,
he beseeched fate helplessly.

Lucien felt almost reckless now, wanting to hold Horatia in his arms without a care as to who saw them. God, how he wanted her, how he loved her. Horatia seemed emboldened by the evening as they moved to a small settee. Under the waves of red silk from her gown his hand found hers and he gripped it like a man dying of thirst would a goblet of water.

From across the room Cedric’s eyes were sharp, but he made no move against them. Lucien’s body ached with the reminder of Cedric’s righteous fury. Each breath, each twist of his body was a reminder of the animosity that had stolen Cedric’s friendship from him like a cruel thief. It was agony, this choice which was no choice at all.

“Here, Lucien. This is for you,” Horatia said in a breathless voice.

She looked as though she feared it would not be to his liking. Lucien smiled at her, thankful for the distraction as he took the package and opened it. In his lap he found a book titled
Astronomy and Mythology
. It was a history of the tales behind the constellations.

Grinning like the lovestruck fool he was, he opened the inside cover to find an inscription—
Happy Christmas, Lucien, may we forever share the stars
. He had never been one for poetry, but that single line had his heart both soaring and breaking. After the coming dawn there would be no more stars, no more tales, no more love…not without the cost of losing his best friend. The chances of dying in the duel were not as great as some made it out to be. That was the effect of pride on those who took part. But the truth was regardless of the outcome it would be devastating because it would tear the families apart. Horatia would lose him or her brother. No one would emerge from this unscathed.

“There’s more.” Horatia prodded with a cheeky smile as she pointed to the center of the book. He tugged a long slender strip of crimson silk out from the center pages. Too long for a bookmark, it was embroidered with silver stars and crescent moons.

“I thought you might find other uses for that.” Horatia nibbled her lower lip with a gleam in her eyes. Damn the woman, she was perfect. Too bloody perfect.

The attention of the others in the room was diverted by Lucinda and Lysandra admiring Audrey’s new fawn gloves.

“I love you,” he mouthed silently

“I love you too,” Horatia mouthed back.

“And this is your gift,” Lucien said quietly, sliding her a small package behind the shelter of her skirts.

“But you already gave me mine,” she said.

“When it comes to you, my love, I cannot seem to control myself.” Lucien smiled as she began to unwrap the small gift, uncovering a velvet pouch. With a curious look she loosened the drawstrings and tipped it over. A slender bracelet of sapphires encircled by diamonds fell into her lap. Horatia’s hands flew to her mouth.

“It was my grandmother’s on my mother’s side. She gave it to me when I was fifteen. She told me to give it to the woman who held my heart. I remember I laughed, telling her no one would ever have my heart, but the crafty old woman knew me better than I did myself. She told me to keep it and one day I’d know who to give it to.

“That night in the Midnight Garden when you spoke of the stars…I knew that this was meant for you. Even when I raged at you that night I still knew that you had to have this bracelet. You are the keeper of my heart. Take this gift and wear it when you think of me. These jewels are as close as I can get to stealing the stars and adorning you with them.” Lucien took her right hand and gently secured the bracelet around her wrist.