Lisette (8 page)

And he got to witness—every second of it.

* * * *

Lisette lifted her lashes the moment he
dipped his head. Before she could close her legs, his lips sweetly
kissed several times between the lips of her sex.

She was watching when he raised and he licked
his lips. She eased the gown down and rolled into him. Elisha
gathered her. He held her for some time, stroking her back and hip
in long strokes, before she sat up and then eased off the bed.

Feeling the tingle lingering from his supple
lips when she walked to collect her robe, she slid it on and tried
to repair her hair but the pens were missing.

He followed and moved her hands away, taking
the rest out and finger coming it, before he gathered her and
whispered in her ear, “Thank you. I am up for being your play mate
any time.”

She laughed breathless and eased back to
regard him. “So long as it’s kept between us.”

“Of course.” He touched her mouth. “You’re
beautiful, sensual, and lovely.”

“You managed to surprise me.”

He cocked his brow.

She flushed. “I never thought you the type
who would—care for erotic play or pleasure.”

“I care for you, Lisette.” He saw her stiffen
and amended. “I enjoy your touch and kiss, the look of your body,
the beauty of your breasts and sex. I enjoyed most
particularly—your climax.”

“Umm. Me too.” She laughed and released him.
Half way to the door she turned. “Are you sure I can’t…” her eyes
went to his groin...

He whispered, “Next time. Hopefully, if there
is to be one?”

“How long are you here?”

“Only this week.”

She nodded. Her gaze went over him. “I’ll
send a note and we can meet?” Her brow arched.

“I shall look forward to it.”

She slipped out.

He went to the bed, falling on it, laying
there, breathing deep with his eyes closed. It was scented from her
perfume, and sex. He undid the latches of his trousers, still with
eyes closed and nose full of her bouquet—freeing his cock, Elisha
climaxed on the first stroke.

Chapter Four

Lisette awoke clear-headed. So clear, in
fact, she groaned and covered her eyes before getting up, and
scrambling into her gown. Dressed, she splashed her face, combed
her hair, and tied it back—hurrying downstairs, in hopes, they
could depart without her seeing him.

“Where is everyone?”

Everyone was at breakfast, the maid said.

She joined him with a too chatty, “Good
morning. Lord, what a night. With that rain I slept like the
dead.”

“As did I.” Marston intoned.

She took a seat and eyed the Viscount, who
was cutting his ham and appeared completely normal.

“The sun is out, a good breeze. Should dry up
in a day or two.” Monty said.

There was conversation and she was glad for
it while drinking coffee, not eating much, a bit amazed that
Marston could look so hard faced and normal. Glad of course, but
she was not able to pull it off.

In time, they were leaving, and Lisette was
first in the coach. She had murmured something to Marston but did
not recall what.

Pretending to sleep during the short trip, at
the Manor, she went inside to the usual racket—this time the twins
were running about, and all the animals were cutting up. While Deme
explained their staying over, something her mama expected their
good sense to make them do, she slipped up and asked one of the
maids to prepare her a bath.

Sunk into it a bit later, hearing the muffled
sounds of the house but in private, she thought of the marks, small
ones, on her neck and breast. No use lying to herself. She had done
it. She had not gone up there to take it that far. But then—how
could she know his touch and kiss would arouse her that much? How
could she guess his dark masculinity and sweetly coaxing permission
would stir her so deeply?

Dipping under the water, she held her breath,
then emerged later and shifted her legs, feeling the softest kiss
on her tender nerves between them. She had not thought him a
sensual man. Viewing him this morning, he did not look like one.
Everything, lips, those eyes, and the way he breathed on her
skin….

Bloody hell. She had been ready for a long
time to find a lover, had jested about an adventurous one to Haven
and Juliette. But that was because she knew many men did not
pleasure women. She certainly was not interested in being with
someone who did not. She had an experience with that sort and told
him bluntly to go bugger himself. She knew many wives accepted it
as their lot, but thanks to her Mama’s talks, and what she saw at
the salon, she also knew if one found the right lover, everything
was mutual because the attractions were. Some men enjoyed women and
wanted them to enjoy pleasures.

An hour later, Lisette was dressed and to
take her mind of Marston, she played hoops with the girls then went
to the stables and groomed some of the horses, and kept herself
busy.

* * * *

Elisha decided she was not going to send him
a note. He figured she had regrets. He suspected—she had not meant
to lose her head.

She regretted it. With him.

He went out with Monty to inspect some of the
property after the storm, and liking Montgomery very much, they had
interesting conversation. He particularly enjoyed hearing the man
talk of his years in Egypt. He spoke often of his friend Jahi, whom
Marston recalled seeing in London. The man taught now, in Egypt,
and was betrothed to a high-ranking woman he cherished.

At some stage, Monty was speaking of how he
and Juliette came to wed. It was story Marston observed, that the
Marquis conveyed with a multitude of expressions and inflections,
from pensive to passionate, to at last grinning unabashed that he
was the most fortunate man on earth. It was clear that he
encouraged whatever his wife’s interests were, and clear too, that
he felt a kind of profound love and a unique bond with her.

Eventually it was nearly his last day and to
say he was chaffing was an understatement. Elisha walked the garden
path, smoked a cheroot, wondering, replaying everything, and
decided he had not fully convinced her he could be trusted. He
bloody wished Smith were there. No. That would not get her to trust
him either. He bloody had to do it on his own. He had to have time
with her to accomplish it.

“Note for you, sir.”

“Thank you.” He crushed the cheroot and took
it from the servant, reading it quickly before he tucked it in his
jacket pocket.

Forcing his heart to calm, his adrenalin to
calm too, Marston found Monty and Juliette in the sitting room

“I thought I might explore the local village
before my stay is over. Might I trouble you for a mount?”

“Yes of course.” Monty looked up. “Take the
muscled bay you rode the other day. Do visit the bookshop whilst
there. You’ll find some treasures, I guarantee.”

“Thank you, I shall.” He left them and went
up to change, doing it quickly; dove gray trousers, white shirt,
his polished boots, a riding jacket of charcoal, and over it a
light caped coat. His gloves he pulled on as he hurried down the
stairs, finding the groom already had the beast saddled and waiting
out front.

“Enjoy yourself,” the man said.

“Thank you.” He smiled and dug in his heels.
His whole body tightened with anticipation. Every caution in his
head did not matter. She would not let him court her. She’d
rejected him. She did not want marriage. But would he pass up a
chance to be with her? Bloody hell no.

The village had much to offer and was quite
bustling when he arrived. Riding though, he nodded to those who
stared at him. He dismounted at the tavern she had mentioned,
paying a lad coin to see to his mount.

Striding through the door, he was immediately
struck by thick smoke and the earthy scent of ale. It was noisy. He
saw several of the serving wenches eyeing him.

Elisha was looking around and spotted the
archway, heading there, and passing a girl who asked his
pleasure.

“Just ale.’ He looked at her.

She had been smiling but it faded. He watched
her look him over before she turned away. It did not do much for
his vanity to think even she saw something there to dislike.

Entering the beamed room, he immediately
picked Lisette out, despite her having the wide hood of her long
coat up. She was leaning against the wall and nearing the far
corner. She had on trousers he would guess. When he got closer,
Elisha saw her hair was in a long braid.

“Ere ye be.”

He attended the wench and gave her coin,
taking his eyes back to Lisette. “Do you wish to remain here or go
elsewhere?”

“Finish your ale, then go to the older man at
the bar and request a room for a few hours. They’re used to
it.”

He looked down and saw she was handing him
coin. “Let me know which one and I’ll take the back stairs and meet
you.”

‘I’ll take care of it.” He closed her fingers
on the coins and met her gaze. “I was afraid you wouldn’t see me
again.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“My heart beat out of my chest all the way
here.” He grinned.

“Mine too.”

He downed the ale and left her, coming back a
bit later and whispering in her ear. She waited, after he left,
then took those back stairs.

The room was sparse and clean scrubbed.
Daylight was clearly lighting the windows. Marston had removed his
coat and the jacket. He had not thought much about what he put on,
but was glad for what he did, watching her eyes go up him. She
apparently liked it.

Lisette had closed the slat door. She leaned
against it, and was undoing coat latches. He crossed and moved her
hands away, taking the task himself while his eyes went over her
face and long braid. Under the coat, she had on snug trousers and a
cream linen shirt.

When the coat fell, it was as if something
released in them both. He cupped her face and lowered his head. She
rose on her tiptoes. In seconds, they were kissing, wildly,
passionately. Breathing fast, fevered, her arms went round him. His
hands were eventually caressing her sides and hips. She suckled his
tongue; so he did sexual things with it in her mouth. Hands now
firm, grasping, he lifted her and turned, blindly walking her to a
bed that he doubted would hold him.

It was low and they half fell on it, then
broke apart, because it was hard as stone.

“Bloody hell!” She chuckled and leaned up on
her forearms.

He felt as if the wind was knocked out of
him, felt a moment of panic but pushed past it and laughed too.

Her eyes went to his mouth.

His saw it and the laughter faded.

Their gazes clung.

“That’s a pleasant sound.” She reached and
traced his lips.

He released a breath through his nose and
rose, gently pressing her back before he was kissing her again.

* * * *

Lisette had done well most of the week. She
had thought her mind firmly made up until it dawned on her that
when he left, she likely would not see him until spring and her
usual London stay.

Once she sent the note, excitement took hold,
and moments after she entered the room, looking at him in
close-fitting dove trousers and white shirt, reading and hearing
his eager husk below, she was melting in all the right ways.
Feeling everything, she remembered tenfold.

Now as he kissed her, his strong masculine
body warm and hands feeling like heaven, she was intoxicated.

That laugh, transformed his whole face. It
was—sexual.

Marston lifted his head.

She gazed up at his heavy lidded gray eyes.
His lips were passion swelled like her own. His well-muscled thigh
was over hers.

“Should we take our boots off?” He reached to
brush a wayward strand from her temple.

“Yes.”

He moved and they sat opposite side, pulling
off boots.

“Why does time seem to be flying?” He asked,
rolling toward her as she met him half in the middle. Their feet
brushed. It should not have aroused her but it did. His scent, the
feel of his muscles under her hands, stimulated her.

“I don’t know. But we don’t have whisper this
time.”

He did that slight quirk of lips and skimmed
his palm up from her hip to just under her breast. “I want to make
the most of this encounter.” His eyes softened. “I dare not ask if
I will see you in London.”

“I don’t know.” She looked away from him.

He offered, “Do you doubt your attraction to
me now? It has always been obvious I feel such for you.”

“No. I don’t.” She met his gaze again. “But
we are still… different.” She reached and touched his hair. “Other
than this…I don’t know much else. Save what you appear to be in
society.”

“If you trust me not to expose
this…attraction, then I will respect that boundary. If I had wanted
to compromise you or force you to accept me, Lisette. I would have
arranged that at your parent’s house.”

“True.”

He felt relieved but in no way certain she
would see him again. Elisha’s hand eased over, cupping her breast.
“You lead the game and I will follow.” His thumb brushed the nipple
that had instantly hardened. “You are right; I have never in my
life done this, been this impulsive. Nevertheless, it excites me as
much as it does you. I am no fool, Lisette, I know you fear I will
use it, or read more into it. But you are a blunt speaking woman.
You have invited me to play, and I am more than willing.”

Elisha kissed her sensually after that. Doing
a deep and leisurely, exploring while he pulled her shirt and
camisole free, and floated his hand under it. He moaned at the feel
of her skin, feeling the quiver in her stomach.

Freeing her mouth, Elisha eased down and
rolled his tongue around her nipples, spending a long time suckling
and teasing her breasts—loving the sound of her sighs and moans,
the sensual feel of her arching against him.