Temptation Has Green Eyes (21 page)

“Has this always been your room?”

“Since I came down from the nursery wing. I resisted the efforts to move into the marquess’s quarters. The other end of the corridor from the marchioness’s. I didn’t want that then, and I want it even less now. But if you want to change, say the word.”

“No.” She glanced around the room. “The other room is beautiful, and in time I’ll like it more. But I love this one.”
Because you’re in it.
“It’s a real room.” It had an atmosphere. Someone lived here and imbued it with his presence.

Smiling, he gestured to the bed. “And my bed isn’t piled high with clothes.” As hers was.

She curved a hand around the back of his neck. “I might have to stay here all night if French doesn’t clear my bed. Really, I hate to impose on you—”

With a low chuckle he stopped her mock protests with a kiss. “Where were we? Ah yes.” He glanced down and unfastened her bodice. “I felt you tense when you realized someone else was in the room. I knew as soon as we went in.” Another hook worked loose. “I assumed she’d leave discreetly, but she had that gown hampering her. I didn’t care. I’d have had you anyway.” He glanced up at her face. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“What?” Her startled gaze went to his face. He knew. Those eyes—they revealed everything, but when had they started to do that? Before, when she hadn’t known him so well, she’d thought him inscrutable. One of his gifts that enabled him to make deals greatly to his advantage. But she saw it now. The heat and the amusement. “I don’t know. Just that—”

He had her bodice undone. Gently but with determination, he pushed the silk off her shoulders and sighed. “Such lovely skin you have. I know, my sweet, and I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. Perhaps I’ll have ancestral portraits brought in here.
They
can watch us.”

“I didn’t know it was possible.”

“All things are possible where the body’s concerned. The brain is only one part of it. Your stomach lets you know when it’s hungry, so why not the quim?”

She started in shock. She’d never heard it spoken before. She’d only read it, in the more wicked caricatures and commentaries. “That—”

“Let’s be frank. We’ll try everything and see what we like. Being watched never bothered me, but it’s never excited me, either. It seems to excite you.” Walking around her, he helped her off with her gown. “Imagine the servants peeking through the jib door. Every room in this house has a hidden servant’s door. Did you know that? Perhaps they watch.” Her stays began to loosen as he deftly set to unfastening her laces. “I’ve heard rumors that they do.”

“Watch?” Again, that warmth between her legs. Heat and wetness. Recalling what had happened before, that time they’d spent in bed in London, Sophia should have expected it. But the sensitivity seemed more, as if she couldn’t bear not to rub her legs together to relieve some of the tenderness gathering there.

He had her stays off and, with a few swift movements, unfastened the drawstrings that held her pocket, petticoats, and hoop in place. He didn’t stop there, but bent to undo her garters and roll her stockings down her legs.

“My valet and your maid. Especially French. Would you like them to see you naked?”

As she turned to face him, he got to his feet and smiled down at her, but his cheekbones were tinged with red, always a sign of emotion in him. He was excited, too.

“Only you,” she said.

Gently, he removed her last garment, her shift, which, being of fine lawn, concealed very little. But that veil had given her the illusion of concealment. Now she stood before her fully-clothed husband stark naked.

His eyes kindled with heat, and he stripped off his coat and let it fall. He glanced toward the back of the room. The jib door, she guessed.

“There they are,” he said. “Should they see me do this?

In one swift move, he dropped to his knees and reached for her. Curving his hands over her bottom, he drew her close and nuzzled into her heat. He took a deep, noisy breath and nudged one thigh with his chin. “Open,” he commanded.

She took a step to one side, opening herself to him, and he rewarded her. He feasted. Licking her like the finest sweetmeat, savoring her, he didn’t hide his sounds of appreciation. “Mmm,” rumbled along her most sensitive tissues, shivers rocking her. He held her close, showing her no mercy as he licked and sucked, breaking away only to say, “You will come. Just think of those servants watching us, seeing what you allow, and what I’m taking. They want it too, but that they cannot have. They can only watch.”

His words persuaded her, so convincing she could imagine French standing at the open jib door in her pink Sunday best, watching, side by side with Max’s attendant, who had his hand on his shaft.

“Oh!” Sensation jolted through her.

“That’s right,” he murmured before returning to his task. He delved, and then sucked, curling his tongue around the tender bud. He teased and tugged until finally she cried his name and gripped his shoulders for fear of falling.

Shudders racked her, and if he hadn’t stood and held her close so she could lean against him, she’d have fallen. He kept one hand on her cleft, prolonging her orgasm, and another firmly around her waist. She held up her head for his kiss, and he didn’t disappoint her. He tasted of her, sharp and feminine.

“Get into bed, my sweet. I’ll join you directly. You are so delicious I could eat you all night.”

Eat her.
Feeling wickedly sensual, she went to the bed. By the heat searing her back, she knew he was watching, so she added a sway to her hips and lingered over climbing on the step. After flinging back the covers, she arranged herself on the crisp linen sheet and leaned on one elbow to watch him.

He stripped for her. Glancing over to the bed, he gave her a wicked grin. “This is for us, Sophia. I don’t intend to let you far from that bed for a long time, so prepare yourself to be put under siege.”

“That sounds…intriguing.”

The hoarse tone of her voice surprised her, but he seemed to enjoy it, as his smile broadened. When he lifted his shirt over his head his muscles flexed, the bulges in his arms and shoulders belying the assumption that a fashionable man should be smooth and elegant. He could be elegant when the need arose, but his body contained fascinating slabs of muscle that betrayed his visits to the boxing saloon and the fencing studio.

In her mind, she dismissed the imaginary servants because nobody should see him like this. This was hers to enjoy.

In the act of stripping off his breeches, he lifted his head and stared at her. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head, a few pins from the wreck of her hairstyle falling to the pillow.

“Then let me see you.” He straightened, only his underwear left, his shaft tenting the fabric. A damp spot appeared on the front. “Throw back the covers and open your legs. Show me where to go.”

Her heartbeat quickened and she gasped for breath. Dare she? Yes, of course. She wanted to show him, loved to display herself when she saw that light in his eyes, desire kindling passion.

She swept the sheets back, the starched fabric rustling provocatively, and slowly opened her legs. “I’m wet for you,” she said, greatly daring.

He rewarded her with a low growl. “I can see that. By the time I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to stand. I will take care of you, carry you to the powder room, wash you, and feed you. But here you are mine, and you do my bidding.”

“I swore to obey.” She didn’t mind his autocracy in bed. Welcomed it, because he would give her everything she wanted, introduce her to pleasures she had yet to imagine.

“Then here is where you will do it. This sight is for no man but me. Understand?”

“As long as you swear only I will see you thus from now on.” She wanted him to herself. They could play as many games as he liked, but she wouldn’t share him. Many men had mistresses, but she couldn’t bear to think of him doing that. That thought should have given her pause, but it only made her greedy. “If you want this, come to me.”

He inclined his head graciously. “As my lady wishes.”

When he stripped off his breeches, she licked her lips. His cock stood finely erect, damp and shiny at the tip, red and hard.

“You want this? You shall have it, madam.”

He was at the bedside in two strides and on the bed, but kneeling up. Gripping his shaft, he presented it to her. “Drink your fill,” he said, “But not too much. I want you to know my taste.”

Would she do that? Her mouth watered. Oh yes, and with delight. She sat, knelt, and then sank back so her bottom rested on her heels. That brought her at the right height. Gazing up into his eyes, which were so dark as to appear almost black, she reached out, cupped his balls. He let out a small sound, a grunt at the back of his throat. So masculine that Sophia smiled.

She licked him and groaned. So tasty. Musky with a hint of something sharp—good white wine, perhaps. Yes, that. Greedy for more, she opened her mouth and took him in.

When she sucked, he gave a cry, and then gave an order. One she dared not disobey lest he took away what was giving her so much pleasure.

“Look at me. I want to see your eyes.”

If she opened her legs so she could sink down a little more, she could do that. Suck his cock and watch his face. Openly desirous, he gazed back, watched her serving him. Tasting him. Keeping her hand on his balls, gently massaging, she brought her other hand up to curl it around the part of his shaft she couldn’t swallow. Her husband was a big man, and it would take more skill than she possessed to take him in her mouth, although she fervently wished she could.

Would he come in her mouth? Would she like it?

His long groans told her how much he was enjoying her ministrations. But before she could taste him fully, he sat up, grasped her shoulders, and dragged her up to him. Fastening his mouth to her in a fierce taking, he rolled her over so she lay under him and pushed his cock inside.

It dragged at her skin, tugged, and then broke free, rooting deep. She cried into his mouth, and he finished the kiss to stare down at her. His eyes were wild, his hair straggled around his face, making him a savage marauder rather than the civilized businessman that lurked deep inside. Only her knowledge that he existed somewhere inside this man told her she was safe.

And she reveled in it. She’d driven him to the edge, and she wanted to know what life was like on the other side. All her life she’d taken care, ensured her safety but now she wanted to—

“Let go,” he ordered her in a wicked whisper.

She obeyed. She could do nothing else. Screaming his name, heedless of anyone who might in reality be lurking nearby, she bucked under him. But his superior strength held her firmly in place while he took what he wanted. Emptied himself into her.

Panting, laughing, he rolled away, but reached for her so she went with him and curled up by his side. Tilting up her chin he kissed her, but although undeniably sensual, this time his kiss was tender. She pressed close to him, savoring his hard, muscular body.

“You’re a revelation, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A fast learner.” He smiled against her mouth when he took another kiss. “Why don’t we stay here? Never go back?”

She chuckled. “When the building work begins, you won’t want to be within a hundred miles.” She lifted herself up on one elbow and frowned.

He touched her forehead, but watched her, didn’t interrupt her.

“Shouldn’t one of us stay and supervise?”

“You mean you in the country and me in the city?” Now he frowned, too. “No.” Flat, unequivocal. “We need to be together, to build on what we’ve started. This is more than doing our marital duty, or hadn’t you guessed that already?”

Swallowing, she nodded. She had, but she’d been half afraid this was his way of enjoying himself while getting her pregnant. Then he’d move on, as so many men did. The promises he’d given her, they could have been in the heat of the moment, or reassurance. Would he want her when she was pregnant? Despite that concern, she warmed when she thought of having his child growing inside her.

His laugh bounced off the walls. “This is better than I could have imagined.”

She gazed at him in astonishment. He could laugh, full-bellied and amused, with no hint of sarcasm. Perhaps they should stay in the country, if it meant she saw him like this more often. His lovemaking astonished her, as did his openness in bed.

Only when he drew the sheet down did she realize she’d drawn it over her when she’d moved to raise herself up.

“I want to see you,” he said. “It gives me great pleasure.”

“I—I’m not used to it.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

Reaching out he traced the outline of her nipple. The tip was still hard and to her embarrassment it hardened more. Tingles spread over her still sated flesh.

“This is what we’re supposed to do, sweetheart. We might as well enjoy it.”

“Yes.”

His hand stilled. “I didn’t mean it in that way.” His fingers rested lightly on her breast. “I meant that… I’m not very good with words, I’m afraid. Let me show you instead.”

And as he took her nipple into his mouth, she reflected that words weren’t always necessary.

“We should get up today.”

“Why?” Lazily he reached for her.

She went to him. Over the last three days, they’d rarely left the bedroom, and then only to wash, eat, and chat. Both were insatiable, and once she’d realized how much he loved her taking control from time to time, she got up the courage to do it. They were friends and now lovers. They had built a sound basis for the rest of their married lives.

“Shouldn’t we tell Lansbury our decision?”

He rolled on top of her and buried his mouth in her neck. “Even your soap tastes good.”

“Can you die of too much lovemaking?” Sometimes she thought so. How could she have ever been afraid of this?

“We can try.” He smiled down at her, totally open.

She smiled back, like an idiot. He’d pampered her, fed her, and made love to her until she’d lost count of the number of times. The only times she’d been dressed were when she’d donned her robe to visit the powder room. Or to go into their private drawing room to take an informal meal.