Rogue in Red Velvet (18 page)

He rubbed the head of his shaft along her crease until her thighs were wet with her essence. She hadn’t believed she could dampen so much for a man, or how it eased his way into her, even a man as well endowed as Alex.

He released her nipple with a wet sucking noise, not quite a pop and kissed his way across one soft slope to the other, giving it the same treatment. He held her steady, his hands on her waist and urged her down, on to his hard and eager erection.

This time she felt him push her inner walls aside, fitting inside her as if made for her. Her and her alone. She loved that notion, savored it, rolled it around her head and tucked it away for another day.

She’d recall every second of this encounter and live and breathe it again and again. Alex filled her in a way she hadn’t believed possible and when she thought she was full, he proved her wrong, by sliding the last inch or two into her.

When she sank down on him, he breached her in the most delicious way imaginable. With his hands on her hips, he urged her up, let her nipple slowly slide out of his mouth as she obeyed his direction and sat. Sat on him.

She’d never seen anything so wonderful in her life. Smiling up at her, relaxed and happy, his eyes now filled with delight and a touch of wickedness, Alex glanced down to where their bodies joined. “Look. Me in you.”

“You in me,” she parroted and a modicum of sense back into her wayward head. Their lower hair meshed, his dark as sin, hers lighter, with a touch of pink between.

His hand left her hip and crept down, nudged the knot of flesh he’d caressed to such magnificent effect. “Clitoris,” he murmured. “Say it.”

“Clitoris.” At this rate, she’d lose her mind. He tweaked, stroked and then pinched, making her leap at the flash of sheer pleasure that arrowed deep into her body. That brought her partly off him and she lifted and plunged, curious to explore what he was giving her. With his support, she did it again and stared down into his eyes, warm and encouraging. He left his thumb resting against the crux of their joined bodies, so every time she came down, her clitoris grazed his thumb.

“Do it yourself,” he said. “Take it. Take me.”

With newfound power, Connie did. She lifted up, found that spot inside her that delivered a shot of extra sensation and worked it, pushed in hard, ground down on him until he moaned and begged for mercy. She gave none, nor did she think he really wanted any.

Exhilarated by the control he was ceding to her, she worked him and at the same time, herself, watching his muscles stretch as he held her firmly. He only steadied her, didn’t urge her to do one thing or another. He left it entirely up to her.

And she loved it. This time she brought herself close, right to the precipice, but however hard she pounded, she couldn’t move over the top. Remaining hanging was sweet torture in itself, more than she’d ever experienced before but she yearned, ached and now she knew why, knew what was waiting for her.

The next time she descended, he caught her clitoris and pinched it hard, then pulled and pinched again. That knowing touch proved enough.

Connie threw back her head, opened her mouth and cried to the heavens, as every sensation built and exploded inside her, fireworks and waterfalls, starbursts and throbbing heat.

With a suddenness that shocked her, he pushed her hard on his shaft as he achieved his own climax, his essence jetting into her. His strong features convulsed in pleasure, pleasure that she’d given him and it brought her to climax again.

She stared down at him in complete delight, gasping for breath, feeling more alive than she could ever remember. He gazed up at her, smiling broadly. Neither of them spoke.

In a few moments, she came to herself.

When she looked for the cloth, she noticed lascivious design on the bedhead. It reminded her where they were but that couldn’t dampen the joy and wonder of what had just happened.

After grabbing the cloth, she wiped herself, then climbed off him and cleaned him. He took the cloth from her and laid it aside, then drew her down to lie next to him. “Witch,” he murmured, his voice seductively low. “I meant you to sleep.” He kissed her with that leisurely thoroughness she was coming to crave.

She lay on him then he rolled so they lay on their sides, with his arms wrapped possessively around her. He drew away, smiling then said something she’d never in a million years have imagined. “Connie, will you marry me?”

He’d startled her enough for her to sit bolt upright. “What?”

He reached up, touched the underside of her breast and drew her back down. “If you married me, nobody would dare traduce you. I have influence and so does my family. If you lose your fortune, no matter. I have enough for us both. Nobody will notice the omission.”

But what of love? She liked him, wanted his body with a desperation that shocked her but she didn’t know him well enough for anything else. After making one mistake, she had no intention of doing it again. The marriage to Jasper was to have been a business arrangement with a little liking on both sides but this… “It’s not an easy solution. We’d have many years to regret a rash decision.”

His expression hardened. “Are you saying no?”

She knew she was doing the right thing. “Yes, Alex, I am. I’ve had time to think today.” His eyes flashed but she continued, undaunted. “Are you in any mood to listen? I signed the contract, Alex. I’m officially betrothed to Jasper Dankworth.”

“Not for long,” he growled. “You’re not marrying that man. That is one thing I am totally certain of. Marry me, Connie. I’ll make a trip to Yorkshire to visit the Downhollands before they come to London and have that damned contract torn up. Then we may marry quickly, may we not?

“No, Alex.” She dropped her gaze, resting her forehead against his shoulder. There were so many reasons she wouldn’t marry him. Yet if she refused him now, he might not ask her again. “I will not let you risk everything you are. If you marry a woman society deems unsuitable, you won’t just lose the chance of attending parties, you’ll be shunned. You’re a wealthy man, from a powerful family and you could all be brought down if one link proves weak.”

Shock limned his face, in the lines at the corners of his mouth and the crease between his brows. Had he imagined she might not have understood what he could lose? She could never live with that.

“I will come to you with my name cleared, or not at all.” And that wasn’t going to happen. Society would condemn her. She remembered enough about that dreadful night to recall a large audience. They would know her, and reject her. And with her, him. Rather than that, she’d give him up.

“You are different, what you do matters. This is a difficult time for our country, isn’t it?”

He choked a laugh of disbelief. “You’ll refuse to marry me for the sake of the country? Connie, please.”

“But your fate is bound up with your family. What taints one taints them all. Weakens them all.”

“No. We may live quietly in the country. But I want to brazen them down. After I’ve made Jasper Dankworth pay.”

“I won’t be part of your revenge, Alex.” She traced a line along the center of his chest, savoring him while she still could. “Too many inequalities lie between us.”

He cinched her close while she continued to talk. Get it out now, while she could, before she collapsed in a self-pitying heap. “My standing, my influence—I have none outside a small area of Cumbria. None at all. I don’t have the social skills you need for a wife.” The word sounded so sweet on her tongue she nearly lingered on it, but aware of the trap, she hastened on. “So it’s not just Jasper and what he did to me. But that is the main thing. Half society has seen me naked, or near it, on a slave block in a whorehouse. Barefaced. They’ll know me. I can’t let you do that. The results would fester and worsen until it was all we had.” She knew about festering wounds in a marriage. Nobody better.

“You might fall pregnant after what we’ve just done.” He was moving on, trying another tack.

She’d been married for five years and only fallen pregnant once. That had ended in disaster and she doubted she would conceive again. But a slight possibility remained. Enough for her to make him a promise with a clear conscience. “If I find I’m with child, then I’ll marry you.”

“You realize I wouldn’t have made love to you if I’d known you meant to decline my offer.”

His soft tones held menace, or maybe it was anger. She had to take care. “I just wanted you and for the next couple of days I’m nobody and nothing. I’ll go back to Cumbria and if I promise to let you know, then you can be sure I will.”

She bit her lip, tasting him on her skin. Alex had been there, touched her lips, kissed them.

He touched her mouth, stroked her skin reverently. “Sleep. I’ve exhausted you. We’ll talk about this later.”

Sleeping in his arms sounded like heaven. Exhaustion took her in a great wave, and she had no choice. Securely tucked in his arms, she let herself drift into a dreamless slumber.

* * * *

Alex hadn’t meant to sleep, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour or two. When she tried to move, he awoke immediately, alerted by the tension in her muscles. He drew her closer, spread his hand over that addictive satin skin, indulged himself in a caress before he urged her to roll on to her back and rose on one elbow above her. Perhaps he could catch her unaware, while she was still fuddled with sleep and his lovemaking.

“Marry me, Connie.”

“No.”

He pushed away, rolling to the edge of the bed and sitting up. “I won’t let you go and I won’t give in.”

He grimaced, his head hanging before he lifted it and turned and faced her once more. He would make it right for her. “I’m starting the campaign today. I mean to ruin Dankworth for what he did to you. Half society saw me buy you and bear you off last night but what else could I do? I couldn’t leave you there. He wanted someone to take you and boast about it. Think of this. Another idea. I shall say that we secretly married and that last night was nothing more than a prank gone wrong. A prank between a married couple.”

“No, Alex. What couple would do something like that? Her parading in front of a room full of men to be sold?”

He raised a sardonic brow. “You’d be surprised. It happens. If we thought we’d appeared at a private club, it would be acceptable, if not approved of.”

“I cannot.”

“You’re probably right.” She wasn’t, but he didn’t want her to push him so far away that he couldn’t come back. Anger simmered inside him, with her for refusing to let him help her, for himself for not moving against Dankworth earlier, against the man who would have destroyed everything this lovely woman deserved, and would have, if he had anything to do with it.

He grabbed his clothes and began to dress rapidly. He sat on the side of the bed to pull up his stockings and fasten the buckles at his knees. The sunlight glanced over the cut steel with dazzling sparks of light. “Meantime, think on this.”

He bent to kiss her and cup one of her breasts. She returned his embrace eagerly, giving him ideas he should not have right now. He had matters to discuss, arrangements to set in place, plans to make. “We will find a way through this and I will not give up. I’ll court you, Connie.”

“No, you can’t. I won’t let you.”

He ignored her protest and drew away to finish dressing. He grabbed his neckcloth, allowing himself a moment of violence against the man who had harmed her so badly. He would shock her into accepting his help if he couldn’t do it any other way. God save him from a chivalrous woman.

He wrapped the cloth around his neck, tying it with a few swift, expert strokes without consulting the mirror hanging on the wall.

“You might not like to hear it, Connie, but you’ll need protection at this time, or you’ll find yourself with nothing. Dankworth will still try to discredit you. He’s a desperate man. Do you want to know what it’s like to live alone, without a good name or a penny to call your own?” He faced her, perfectly still. “Now is your chance to find out. This is a high-class brothel and many of the girls who work here are respectably born. Talk to them. Ask them questions. See if you can stomach the idea of what they do.”

She picked up a silver brush. Before she could throw it at him, he grabbed his coat and left the room.

Chapter 11

If Alex did what every nerve in his body screamed at him to do, he’d go straight to White’s, find Dankworth and force a confrontation right there. If he saw Dankworth now, he’d kill him.

Connie’s unexpected rejection of his suit had infuriated him. But when he’d come to his senses he’d realized he had to be some kind of coxcomb, if he thought one bout of lovemaking would persuade her.

If they were married, he could act for her and his powerful family would protect her. He could ride out a storm. Instead of hunting Dankworth down like the dog he was, Alex decided to make a call on Julius. He needed someone with a cool head to stop him doing something rash.

He took a hackney to Brook Street and was relieved to discover the knocker gleaming brightly on the door. That meant they were in residence. Alex strode to the door and rapped on it.

“Is he in?” he demanded, striding into the hall as soon as the door opened.

The butler, Watson, bowed and took Alex’s hat. “I will see if his lordship is at home, my lord.”