Romancing the Countess (35 page)
“I said I wouldn’t do anything unless you told me to,” he said. “Tell me to touch you.”
She lifted her chin, refusing to retreat from his challenge. “Touch me.”
He started at the base of her throat, moving downward to her collarbone, then lower, circling the areola of one breast before going to the next.
“I suppose Ian touched you here?” he said, his gaze holding hers captive.
Leah frowned. “Yes, but I don’t want to—” She gasped as he caught her nipple between his finger and thumb, tugging gently, then pinching.
“No, you don’t want to talk about him. But I know you’ll be thinking about him when I touch you, comparing us.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Even as she said it, her mind conjured an image of Ian leaning over her, the canopy beyond his head.
“Yes, you will. But after tonight, I promise you’ll never think of him again when I’m with you. It will be only you and me.”
“And are you thinking of Angela when you touch me now?”
“No.” His eyes met hers evenly. “You’ve long ago chased away her memory, Leah.” He paused, as if letting his words sink in. “Is there anything you and Ian didn’t do together?”
Leah flushed. “I—I don’t believe so.”
Sebastian’s eyes darkened. He knelt to the floor before her and braced his hands on either side of her hips. Leaning forward, he flicked his tongue against one nipple, then another. “Did he kiss you?” he murmured, then captured the hardened peak between his lips, biting softly, pleasure and pain melding together until he laved it with his tongue. His hand rose from her hip and cupped her breast, scalding her as he held her still while he sucked, his tongue continuing to lick at her.
Leah’s hands hovered over his head, then dropped back to her sides.
Sebastian leaned back, looking up at her. “Did he kiss your breasts, Leah? Did he take your nipples into his mouth?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice hoarse.
He trailed his mouth down her stomach, nibbling a path toward the crease at the top of her thigh. He moved slowly, torturing her, and Leah wanted to scream for him to hurry, to get it over with. To not make love to her like Ian had.
He pulled his mouth away, and his fingers touched the hair between her thighs. “Black,” he murmured, tilting his head to give her a crooked, wicked smile. “I was wrong.”
Leah couldn’t contain her moan this time, and as if of their own will, her legs parted, waiting. But he moved on, teasing her as he smoothed his hands over her thighs, her calves, her ankles. He bent over, placing hot kisses on the insides of her legs, rising as he nibbled at the sides of her knees. She had to steady herself by putting her hands on his shoulders when he kissed the insides of her thighs, her mind succumbing to the heavy, languorous pull of pleasure as she realized he was acting out his fantasy.
Her legs slid farther apart. A silent plea.
When he pulled away once more, she nearly cried out in frustration. But his hands moved where his mouth should have been, soothing her dampened flesh with his fingers.
“Leah.”
Her name was a command, and she obeyed, bending her head to see the flame of need in his eyes, the sulky want of his mouth.
“Did Ian touch you here?” he asked, and his thumb rubbed across the tender peak of her flesh.
“Yes,” she choked out, clenching his shoulders. He pushed his middle finger inside her, and Leah whimpered.
“Did he put his mouth to you? Did he kiss you here? Did he lick and suck and bite you?”
“Goddamn you,” she cried out, her knees beginning to buckle. “Yes, goddamn you.”
His thumb worked steadily, his middle finger sliding in and out. “And did you come for him, Leah? Look at me,” he ordered when her lids fell, their weight heavy as she tried to concentrate on the movement of his hand. “Answer me.”
She glared at him. “Yes! I came. Over and over and over again.”
“Then do it for me. Come for me now,” he said softly, and with a flick of his thumb, she bowed over, every muscle stiffening, quivering, her hips jerking against his hand as he lightened his touch, bringing her down gently.
Leah’s arm wrapped around his neck, her face buried against his shoulder, her breast pressed against his cheek. She panted. She might never be able to suck in enough air again. She felt Sebastian turn his head and place a kiss on the side of her breast; then he stood and scooped her into his arms.
“I don’t like you,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest.
He laid her on the bed and pulled the counterpane over her as she turned on her side. “That’s all right,” he said. “We’re married. Sooner or later I’ll convince you otherwise.”
He moved away, and she heard the rustle of her gown as he picked it up off the ground.
“Are you leaving?”
“No.”
The muffled thud of boots hit the floor, followed by what she presumed to be the removal of his trousers. The room fell dark except for the fire still flickering in the hearth. Her breath quickened again when she felt the slight dip of the mattress. She waited for him to pull her against him, to try to arouse her again, to adjust their bodies so he could enter her from behind. When minutes passed and he didn’t touch her, she rolled onto her back and turned her head toward him.
He lay facing her on the opposite side of the bed, and she made out the glint of his green eyes by the firelight as he stared at her.
“Sebastian?”
He reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing over her mouth much the same as he’d done in the garden at Linley Park. “After he made love to you, did Ian stay here with you, or did he return to the master chamber?”
“He left,” she said, her lips moving beneath his touch.
Sebastian withdrew his hand. “Then allow me to stay the night, if only to sleep beside you.”
“You don’t want . . . anything more?”
“No. Tonight, I just want to be with you.”
She didn’t know how to respond. She’d been prepared to see to his needs, but he didn’t want anything else. She hesitated, then rolled back to her side and stared into the fire. “Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
She watched the fire die down until only embers remained. She tried to close her eyes, but couldn’t fall asleep. She was too aware of him behind her, the memory of his touch and his mouth upon her skin.
He’d forced her to tell him what Ian had done, how he’d made love to her. But she hadn’t told him that she’d never responded like that before. Sebastian’s touch was different, eliciting something in her that had been far greater than simple pleasure.
Nothing at all had been the same.
Chapter 21
I must have packed and unpacked my valise a thousand times already. Truly, all I need to take with me is my portrait of Henry. Besides that, you are all I need.
The following morning when Leah woke up, Sebastian was gone. She fought a sense of disappointment as she sat in the middle of the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. She remembered waking up several times during the night and having him there beside her, the comfort and warmth of his arms. While some of her fear and doubts were still present, he’d made it possible to believe in herself a little more. He hadn’t used her, but gave her pleasure without seeking his own. He’d then offered her comfort, when it must have cost him dearly to lie beside her, aching with need.
Sebastian.
Leah flopped back on the bed, turning her head toward the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. She smiled.
A knock sounded at the door, and Leah hurriedly pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Enter,” she called.
A maid came in, balancing a tray against her hip. “Good morning, milady. His lordship has sent breakfast to you, as he’s already eaten.” She waited for Leah to sit up, then set the tray before her. “And I’m to give you this as well,” she said, handing Leah a note.
“Thank you,” she murmured, then waited for the maid to leave before quickly unfolding the paper.
I’ve taken Henry to the village with me today. Rest while you can, for he’s already anxious to see you this morning. We’ll miss you.–S
Leah smoothed the parchment out beside her and reread it repeatedly while she ate. She wondered what matter of importance called Sebastian into the nearby village, and why he’d taken Henry with him. And she wondered if Sebastian had labored over every single word writing it as she did reading, trying to decipher possible hidden meanings. Such as “We’ll miss you.” Had Henry told Sebastian that he would miss her, or had Sebastian simply included him because he didn’t want to admit that he would miss her? The “we” made it seem more impersonal, somehow, although if it were the truth and they both would equally miss her, then that was something spectacular, actually.
Her husband and her son.
The thought of them made her chest ache, and already she wished they were home.
Leah tried to relax that morning—she truly did—but her ears kept listening for the sound of their return. None of the books she chose from the library held her attention, and she changed her morning dress twice, thinking about how Sebastian would look at her when he saw her again. So much between them had changed, but she was still uncertain where to go from here, or what he would expect from her.
When they hadn’t returned by the lunch hour, Leah began to worry. Only a little. After all, the village was no more than an hour away, and not very large at that. What could they possibly be doing which would take them so long?
Trying not to fret, especially when she saw clouds moving in across the sky, Leah went to her writing table in her bedchamber and pulled out Angela’s packet of letters. It had been a while since she’d read any, at least since before their wedding. In truth, she hadn’t wanted to read any more after that, hadn’t wanted to be reminded of Angela when she looked at Sebastian. But it was the only thing she could think of to distract her for a moment, and so she sat on the window seat and untied the ribbon, letting the letters fall into her lap as she glanced out the window.
Still no carriage.
Sighing, Leah picked up the first letter from the jumbled pile; she’d been too careless, and now they were out of order. She opened and folded one after another, placed them to the side as she tried to find one she hadn’t read. Soon only one letter lay in her lap.
Leah picked up the letter and opened it.
My darling,I’ve made the arrangements as we agreed. I haven’t been able to sleep for fear that I will wake up and discover that I am dreaming. Two days! Two days until we’re together. Two days until we never have to part again. Do you know how often I’ve dreamed about being able to wake up beside you? Soon, I will.I know one day I’ll see Henry again, and I love you all the more for understanding my anguish. How I wish that he were yours, that I had met you first, that he could be our child. But as the heir, I know it’s more likely for Sebastian not to try to follow us if I leave Henry . . . my dear, sweet boy. I pray that soon I’ll be able to give you a son, and then you too can know this joy I hold deep in my heart. I will send you one more letter when I confirm the time, and then we will be together.All my love,
Angela
Leah’s fingers trembled as she folded the letter again, then tied them all with the pink satin ribbon.
Oh, Sebastian. Come home to me.
Never again need he question whether Henry was his son.
Never again need he question whether Henry was his son.
Sebastian carried a tired, wet little boy in his arms up to the nursery early that evening. He deposited Henry in his nurse’s lap, then turned to the door. “We’ll be back in just a moment to say good night.”
“I’ll send for his supper right now, my lord.”
Sebastian nodded, then went in search of his wife. He went from room to room on the ground and first floors, then finally turned toward her bedchamber, frowning. She didn’t usually go to bed this early. She’d seemed fine last night, with no sign of illness. Perhaps she’d actually taken his suggestion and rested all day, although he’d doubted she would when he’d written the note that morning.
He gave a light knock, then opened the door to her bedchamber when he didn’t receive an answer.
A sweet ache filled his chest as he spied her, asleep on the window seat, her cheek resting against her fist. Sebastian strode across the room and pushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face. Leah stirred at his touch.
“Shh,”
he said, bending forward to scoop her against his chest. He moved toward the bed, but when he laid her down, her eyes immediately widened and focused on him.
“Shh,”
he said, bending forward to scoop her against his chest. He moved toward the bed, but when he laid her down, her eyes immediately widened and focused on him.
“Sebastian?”
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