Chapter Six

Justin sprawled naked atop the counterpane, one arm tucked behind his head, the other holding Sophie close to his side. The fire in the grate burned low, the tapers extinguished. Her fingers wandered idly across his chest, and her leg was tossed over his. As far as heaven went, he was fairly certain this was it.

“What is your life like with your son?” he asked.

“It’s wonderful.” Her tone held a soft breathy quality of happiness. “Every day is an adventure. You never know when you will find a toad in your bed or a grasshopper loose in your dining room. Some nights there are monsters in the armoire and on others, there are faeries in the air.”

“I would enjoy that, I think.”

He felt her smile against his skin. “You will be a wonderful father, I’m sure. I realize now that it was only my own insecurities that made me feel as if you looked unfavorably upon me. You were merely trying to protect me from myself. I think you will be somewhat of a mother hen, fussing after your progeny and taking great pains to ensure their safety.”

He snorted.

“And that snort,” she commented. “I used to think it was arrogant and dismissive. Now I collect that you make that noise when you are embarrassed by praise.”

“Provoking wench. Is the only way to keep you from teasing me to make love to you? You are much more agreeable then. Tractable even.”

She hugged him tightly. “You are quite good at the business, you know. I did not know that I could…feel like that …” she exhaled in a rush, “while you are inside me.”

He looked down at her. “An orgasm?”

“I have had them before,” she amended quickly, lifting her head to look at him. With her face framed in a riot of short, dark curls, and her eyes bright, she looked younger and happier than when she had arrived. Pushing his fingers into her hair, he massaged her scalp, finding deep joy in his right to touch her as he wished.

“But not during intercourse?” He smiled. “I hope you enjoyed it. I intend to repeat the experience as often as possible.”

She sighed forlornly. “I would love to stay, but time draws short. The sun will rise soon.”

He cupped her cheek. “Only hours separate my body from yours.”

Sophie pushed up, baring her curves to his gaze. In the faint orange glow from the banked fire, she looked like a pagan sexual goddess. His cock twitched in appreciation of the view.

“What are you saying?” she asked with a frown.

“I am saying that I will have you again tonight, if not before then. Do not be startled to find yourself in a secluded corner with your skirts around your waist.”

“You said you were leaving!”

Justin arched a brow. “That was before you asked me to bed you.”

She gasped. “I will not be your mistress! I have a child who shares my life.”

“You insult me,” he said, swinging his legs off the edge of the mattress and standing. “I would never ask that of you.” Collecting his black silk robe from the armoire, he shrugged into it, then moved to the grate. “Do you truly believe that I would think you were sufficient for fucking, but not for wedding?”

“I cannot marry you!” she protested.

He blew out his breath and kept his face averted to the fire. It would not do for her to see him wounded. Though it was ridiculous to feel that way, he knew. He had known from the moment he acknowledged what he must do, that she would fight him tooth and nail. “That sounded like a refusal.”

“Oh, do not be daft!” she muttered. “Marriage to me would ruin you.”

“Allow me to worry about that.”

“What is the matter with you?”

He finished stoking the new coals and rose from his crouch. “Sophie‑” His voice fell to silence as he faced her. She had pulled on her discarded chemise and knelt on the bed with her hands cupping both knees. He thought her the most glorious creature in the world.

His gaze moved away from the flashing green eyes and came to rest on the Fontaine crest carved into his headboard. Immutable resolution filled him. Sophie was where she belonged and he would fight to keep her with every breath in his body.

“You are a model of respectability,” she continued, warming into a full‑blown heated debate, “and an admired member of the aristocracy, and I am an example of how far one can fall from grace.”

Justin crossed the distance between them, caught up her hands and pulled her from the bed. “Lady Sophie Milton‑Riley,” he said with all due seriousness, “would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

She stomped her foot. “No, no, no, you mad fool. You said there was no way for us to be together that we could both live with, and you were of sound mind then. Obviously sexual congress disturbs your brain functions in some way. You need sleep,” she pronounced. “Once you wake, you will see how insane your proposal is.”

“I love you.”

“Dear God.” She gasped and bent over slightly, as if struck.

“I have always loved you.”

Sophie shook her head violently. “You are mistaking the remnants of orgasm with elevated feelings. You did not feel that way before sex.”

“My love.” He pulled her into his embrace. “We would not have had sex, if I did not intend to marry you. I asked you, quite clearly, if you were prepared to be owned by me. You agreed.”

“That is not what you meant!”

“It was. Kindly remember that you are the impulsive one in this pairing. I am the one who considers all aspects in great detail.”

Sophie pushed at his chest in a bid for freedom and he released her, knowing that she would pace in her agitation. It was quite comforting to know her so well.

“You might grow to love me,” he said, watching her.

“I already love you,” she snapped.

He grinned.

She glared. “But that is the worst of all reasons to wed!”

“I will marry you, sweetheart, so you should accustom yourself to that fate posthaste. I lost you once. I refuse to lose you again.”

“Justin.” She heaved out her frustration, striding back and forth in front of the fire, oblivious to the way the back‑lighting revealed every inch of her delectable form. “Why must you always be so difficult? I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me.”

“Yet you intend to sacrifice our love for me?” He shrugged out of his robe and went to her, tossing it about her shoulders to keep her warm. “Where is the fairness in that?”

She stopped, her gaze dropping between his legs. He saw her swallow hard. “You would resent me after awhile. Society will never accept me, and that would reflect upon you. I would become a great hindrance. That would be unbearable for a socially active man such as you.”

He lifted her chin so that their gazes met. “Not having you would make me more wretched.”

“You’ve no notion.” Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. “It is not pleasant to be relegated to the fringes.”

His hands settled on her shoulders, then slid down to her elbows. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then trust me to manage this.”

“How?”

“I will find a way,” he promised, sliding his hands beneath his robe to circle her waist and lift her off her feet. The feel of their bodies touching made his heart leap and then race madly. His cock swelled between them, and her breathing quickened. The instant, intoxicating, wildly uncontrollable hunger that flared between them was delicious.

To feel so alive, to be loved by the one woman whose affection he had needed for so long, to have the opportunity to correct the greatest error of his life…it was all together nearly enough to make him shout with joy.

But the weight of their dilemma hung over them like a dark cloud. They were both highly aware of the imminent thundercrack and the downpour of censure that would follow. The only certainty was this moment, these last hours before dawn.

So he determined to relish them. He stepped toward the bed with his precious Sophie in his arms. She clung to him, her mouth at his throat, kissing and nibbling in a way that drove him to madness.

Laying her on the chocolate velvet counterpane, he followed her down, brushing the edges of the robe aside so that he could cup her breasts. His open mouth lowered, surrounding her nipple through her chemise, his tongue flickering across the tightened peak. He rested on his side, freeing his hand to slide down between her thighs. She opened without reservation, baring her cunt to his reverent caresses. A deep sound of praise rumbled up in his chest, vibrating against her skin as he continued to suck deeply at her breast. He parted her and stroked through the slickness he found, both hers and his. With two fingers he pushed into her, feeling the soft‑as‑satin walls tighten and release as he pumped in and out.

The sounds she made as he pleasured her were music. Her breathless pleas were aphrodisiacs. The feel of her hands in his hair and on his shoulders made his heart clench with longing. Wrapping his leg around hers, Justin ground his cock into the soft flesh of her outer thigh in a vain effort to relieve the desperate ache.

Then he gave up and levered over her. Kneeling, he draped her legs over his thighs and pushed her chemise up over her breasts. “My God,” he breathed, undone at the sight of her dishevelment. The wanton pose was the realization of his deepest carnal fantasies. “You are so beautiful.”

His fingers caressed her from breast to cunt in feather‑light adoration.

“Please,” she cried, wiggling delightfully.

“Shh,” he soothed, gripping his cock and angling it down to the tiny slitted entrance to her body. “You should watch, love. It will excite you.”

Sophie pushed up onto her elbows and stared at where they almost joined. Rolling his hips, he eased into her, sinking into hot slick silk. The sight of his penetration moved them both. He hardened and grew thicker, she began to pant and flooded with moisture so plentiful it bathed his cock. As he had before, he took his time, memorizing every moment. The final surge to the root made him groan and grind against her, shoving himself as deep into her as he could go. She was stuffed full of him, a fit so perfect it made him want to howl with pleasure.

Her cunt fluttered rhythmically, betraying how close she was to coming. His thumb to her clitoris, he pushed her over, gritting his teeth as she milked his tortured cock with strong pulses.

“Yes,” he growled, watching the orgasm move through her, watching her fall helpless to the passion that had gripped him alone for so long.

Only when she settled limply into the pillows did Justin begin to fuck her. Holding her hips, he withdrew to the tip, then thrust hard and deep. Out. In. Powerful, driving strokes straight into the heart of her. Hearing the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, feeling the heavy weight of his balls striking the firm curve of her ass, listening rapturously to Sophie’s sobbing pleas for more. Always more. He made no effort to coddle her sensibilities. She had to know how it would be between them, had to understand that while he loved her with a gentleman’s heart he would fuck her with a man’s primitive desire.

And she loved it. Loved him.

Justin’s skin misted with sweat, then dripped with it, and still it went on, his fingertips bruising her flesh as he held her down. Pumping her to orgasm again so he could see the startled pleasure drift across her features and the way her green eyes dazed in the throes. As she convulsed around him, he released his control, tossing his head back with a guttural cry. The climax shook him, making him shudder and jerk violently with every hard, thick spurt of his seed inside her.

His jaw ached with the force with which he clenched it and he lowered into her open arms with gratitude. Nestled against her breast, he listened to her heart’s desperate beating.

“I love you,” she whispered, stroking the perspiration‑slick length of his back. “Whatever happens, know that I return the depth of your affection.”

“I will marry you,” he returned, kissing the nipple closest to his mouth. “And I will know how you feel, because you shall tell me every day.”

She said nothing, but her silence spoke a sad farewell.

Justin closed his eyes, and began to plan.

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 562