Improper Gentlemen (24 page)

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Authors: Diane Whiteside,Maggie Robinson,Mia Marlowe

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Improper Gentlemen
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But as long as I’m still wearing my nightshift.
He reached down and smoothed her hem up her shins, over her thighs and before she knew it, he’d pulled her shift off, turning the long prim sleeves inside out in his haste to be done with it. Then he tossed the nightshift to the floor and grinned down at her.
“Oh, it’s a sight, ye are, lass.” Then he shucked out of his trousers and pulled off his socks.
They were both in the glorious altogether. His gaze swept over her as if he were a starving man and she the last bun on the tray, but she didn’t feel the slightest urge to cover herself. She felt no need to restrain herself from looking her fill either.
Aidan was beautiful in all his parts—hard, strong, soft, vulnerable. He was both needy and giving, bereft and bountiful.
“
All that’s best in dark and bright
,” she whispered. Good and bad. Praiseworthy and shameful. It didn’t matter. She loved all of him.
“I suppose that’s more of your ruddy Shakespeare,” he said hoarsely, his face taut with hunger.
“No, that was Lord Byron, not that it matters particularly. It just seemed to fit,” she said softly. “But I don’t suppose you came here for poetry or intend to woo me properly.”
“No, lass. I came to make love to ye. Most improperly.”
“Well, then,” she said with a shuddering sigh as she looped her arms around his neck. “You’d best get to it.
Chapter 8
 
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes
Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers’ tears.
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
—S
HAKESPEARE
,
Romeo and Juliet
 
 
 
 
 
 
A
idan settled his hips between her splayed legs, propping his upper body on his elbows, and looked down at her. He ached to plunge in, but he had to be certain this time. He’d taken her without meaning to that first night on the island and then later she’d sent him away when he’d been determined only to pleasure her.
Her lips parted softly and her chin began to quiver.
“Why have you stopped?” she asked.
“Because I don’t think I’ll be able to in a moment and I want you to be sure this time.”
Her teeth glinted in a melting smile. “I’m sure, Aidan. I won’t send you away.”
He brushed his lips across her brow and then dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. Her belly quivered in a small giggle.
The urge to swive her senseless was still just as strong, but suddenly he was in no hurry. She wasn’t going to send him away. He could love this woman with toe-curling slowness.
He wanted to savor her, to taste her, to mark every inch of her skin with his lips and claim her entire.
He rolled off her.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m only after looking at ye, Rose.” He gave her a long perusal, from the crown of her head to her lovely feet.
They were delicate and well-formed with high arches. Her small toes were topped with neat square nails, smoothly filed. He moved down and raised first her right foot, then the left, to his lips for a kiss on the joint between her big toe and its nearest neighbor. Each time, he was treated to a long view up her legs to the shadowy realm between them.
His cock urged him to more than looking, but he restrained himself from claiming her sex, then and there. He’d drive her to helpless need first. He ran a hand along her shin, over her knee and up her inner thigh.
She tensed.
“Whisht, lass. Trust me.”
She nodded and closed her eyes, letting him spread her legs a bit further. He teased her intimate folds with glancing touches and circled her sensitive spot till she writhed in aching fury. He could finish her now, but he held back.
He wanted to hear her beg. He stilled his hand.
“Aidan,” she moaned. “What are you doing to me?”
His balls ached in pleasurable torment at her obvious distress. “Ye’re not the only one in need, Rose, but believe me, the wait will be worth it.”
She shot him a disbelieving glance. “You promise?”
“On my honor as a gentleman.”
“Ha.”
He leaned over her and kissed her roughly. “Then will ye accept my word as a scoundrel?”
She loosed a silvery laugh and then quickly covered her mouth at the outburst. She needn’t have worried. Stonehaven was built “hell for stout,” his da would’ve said, with walls thick enough to keep its residents’ deepest secrets.
“At least the pledge of a scoundrel would make it a believable promise,” she whispered.
“Then ye have my word as a veritable prince of rogues,” he said as he eased his shoulders between her knees to spread her wide. He delivered a string of kisses up the inside of her leg. “Now lie still. If ye can.”
The skin of her inner thigh was soft and sweet. Her scent bloomed afresh each time his lips drew nearer to her sex, all musky and warm. He pressed open-mouthed kisses on her, running his tongue into her intimate cleft.
She made a helpless little sound of need.
He raised his head to peer at her. Rosalinde’s dark hair was spread out over her pillow in an undulating fan around her head. She’d draped a forearm over her eyes. A way to shield herself from him, he supposed. Before this night was through, he’d batter down every wall she raised between them.
Her mouth was slack and her breaths came short and quick. Her breasts rose and fell, the taut nipples straining upward.
Her slightly rounded belly quivered. Her legs were splayed in abandon. Her dark curls glistened wetly at him, beckoning him to dive into them.
He parted the soft lips of her sex to revel in the pink secret world of her. The inner folds and slick crevices, the tight little raised spot that throbbed for his touch, the snug channel that would be his ultimate goal. When his thumb passed over her, she quivered and clenched all the small muscles in her groin so the lips of her sex pursed in a parody of a wet kiss.
He’d never imagined anything so erotic in his life.
He tongued her and she raised herself into his mouth. He suckled the little spot, swirling his tongue over it.
The sounds of longing she made went straight to his cock. Pressure rose in the shaft. If he kept at this, he’d end up spilling his seed on her sheets.
He moved up her body, ignoring her sigh of frustration, leaving a trail of nibbling kisses along her ribs.
He ran his tongue along the crease beneath each breast. She rocked her pelvis against him and he throbbed in needy agony.
He laid his head between her breasts and heard her heart galloping beneath his ear. Her growing want flamed his. He drew a deep breath. The goal was to make
her
beg for him, not for him to succumb to the need to take her in a greedy heartbeat.
Once he reduced her to pleading,
then
he could take her.
For now, he forced himself to run through the plans he’d set in motion—anything to delay his body’s reaction to Rose.
Staging the grotto, setting the trap, waiting to catch Peg Bass’s real killer.
He felt steady enough to move on to her breasts. They were smooth and warm and topped with tight peaks. He nuzzled them, running his open mouth around her areolas, teasing her with his nearness.
Ready the magistrate, nipple the culprit—damn, I mean ‘nab the culprit.’
“Aidan, please,” she moaned, arching her back and thrusting her breasts upward.
He forgot all about his other plans and closed his lips over one nipple while he massaged the other with his thumb and forefinger.
Her hands ran over his head and down his back, grasping his buttocks. She rubbed herself against him.
He raised up to look at her. “Ye’re supposed to lie still.”
“I’m supposed to try.”
His face stretched in a wide smile. “Well, then lass, the time has come. Ye only had to ask.”
 
He bent his head and claimed her mouth in a deep kiss.
Everything else fled from Rosalinde’s mind. The world was seared away in his fiery kiss and her whole life sizzled down to the wonder of his mouth on hers and his skin gliding smoothly against her skin.
She reached between them to stroke his hard shaft and fondle his balls. He growled with pleasure and a thrill of power surged over her. He brought her to her knees with such ease.
How lovely it would be to make him plead. But the ache between her legs throbbed with a vengeance. Mayhap she’d play at tormenting the man with pleasure after her own need was stilled.
Then Aidan rolled, pulling her on top of him.
“Now, love,” he said, folding his hands beneath his head. “Mount your steed at your pleasure and ride him as you will.”
She sat up abruptly, surprised. “You want me to . . .”
“I want you to take me in to suit yourself,” Aidan said, grasping her hips and positioning her so she was sitting on his groin.
Rosalinde’s face crumpled in confusion. “But what if I do it wrong?”
“Impossible.” He sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, lass. This is play time for us, a time for our hearts to knit together and find ways to share delight. Only in your case, ye don’t have to fret. Everything about ye delights me. Between you and me, there is no wrong.”
She bit her lower lip in anticipation. “Very well. Lie back, my lord,” she said, giving him a playful push against his chest. “I’m going for a ride.”
 
The moon dipped below the horizon, darkening the chamber, but the woman astraddle Aidan’s groin seemed to glow like a being aflame. Lust boiled through his veins. For a moment, he imagined tossing her off, dragging her to her knees and mounting her from behind, but he held himself back.
He’d given her the reins. He couldn’t jerk them away without losing the trust he’d gained.
Rosalinde was a quick learner and lost no time repaying him for the way he’d tormented her. She rubbed herself along his shaft. He writhed beneath her, desperate for her to take him in, equally as desperate not to beg her to.
“Now?” The word escaped his lips.
She leaned down and kissed him, raking his chest with her taut nipples. “Not yet.”
She slid down onto his thighs. His cock strained upward and his balls drew into a snug mound. The wiry hairs on his scrotum stood at attention. She traced the centerline between his balls with a fingernail, leaving a line of abrasion on the sensitive skin.
His breath hissed over his teeth. A drop of seed formed on his tip, a milk-blue pearl.
He half-sat up and reached for her, but she straight-armed him.
“Not yet, I said.” She pushed his hand away gently. “You promised to lie still until I give you leave to move. Remember?”
“Aye, lass,” he said through clenched teeth as he settled back into the mattress. “My word is good.”
“I should hope so. If a woman can’t trust the word of the prince of rogues, what’s the world coming to?” She moved up and settled her naked rump on his groin, clearly pleased with herself.
His balls tightened. The tip of him protruded between her legs. She’d obviously been paying attention when he stroked her most sensitive spot, for she’d discovered the bit of rough skin beneath the head of his cock and massaged it with her thumb. He broke out in a sweat, biting his lip to keep from spilling his seed onto his own belly. She leaned forward and kissed him hard.
The need to be inside her was excruciating.
“What will you do if I give you permission to move?” she asked.
“I’ll . . . ah . . . I . . .” He was incoherent with need. “I’ll . . .”
Wet and slick, she slid over the length of him, coating him with her arousal. “Move, Aidan.”
He raised his hips to meet her. She teased him with her soft wet entrance but didn’t let him slip in.
She arched her spine and let her head fall back, thrusting her breasts forward. His jaw went slack with desire.
Aidan ran his hands up her thighs and spread the lips of her sex. He thumbed her most sensitive spot.
She groaned. She tossed her head and leaned back, supporting herself with her hands propped on his thighs to give him better access to her. Her muscles stiffened. Then her entire body bucked with the force of her release. A long, jagged “oh” escaped from her lips as her insides contracted. Her breasts quivered with each fresh wave.
Finally she raised her head and looked down at him in open-mouthed wonder.
He grimaced, satisfied that he’d brought her to such a spectacular release. His aching erection made a true smile impossible.
“Now?” he asked.
“Yes, now.”
She took him in hand and guided him in. Rosalinde moved slowly, obviously reveling in the power of engulfing him, consuming him. Her insides molded around him like a wet fist.
He touched her as she moved and she started tilting her pelvis into him.
Clever girl.
She’d already learned she could control the pressure on her sensitive spot. Judging from her shortness of breath, she was racing toward the pinnacle again.
Her first spasm began.
Aidan went off like a Roman candle inside her until he was utterly spent. Her inner walls clenched once more and then she collapsed on his chest, boneless as a sleeping cat.
He stroked her hair, inhaling its soft floral smell. Glad she’d made no move to separate from him. Her breathing slowed. He felt her cheek twitch in a smile against his breastbone.
She was happy. Warmth flooded his chest. Pleasing Rosalinde Burke was the finest thing he could aspire to in all his living life.
“I love ye, lass,” he whispered, but she made no answer. Then very softly, there came a small, ladylike snore. He pressed a kiss on her tousled crown and wondered how long he could remain inside her.

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