Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love) Page 11

  “Devon, I need…something.” The whispered words were raspy, breathless. She shifted, once again pushing the throbbing flesh between her legs against him.

  “I know, my love. Let me help you.” He moved his thigh and replaced it with his fingers, which he used to circle her slick flesh, the sound of his fingers moving in and out adding to that of their heavy breaths.

  She was intensely aware of everything. His scent, the feel of his rough skin against hers, his muscles hard compared to hers. She kissed and then licked the area of his chest where her mouth rested, tasting both the salty and tangy essence of him. He mumbled French into her ear as he tugged on the lobe, biting softly. Although she knew French quite well, his words were lost in a jumble of feelings that swept over her.

  Feelings that she knew she’d already had for her husband, but with this new intimacy between them, swirled to higher levels. This was what she wanted from him and from their coupling. Now that she’d experienced this change, there could be no going back.

  He withdrew, smoothing the damp hair from her forehead as he stared into her eyes until she felt lost, a complete surrender.

  She closed her eyes and breathed in the scents of him, the familiar ones of soap, brandy, and Devon. He continued to tease her, bringing new, wonderful sensations to her body. The area between her legs ached, and she pressed the throbbing spot against his hand. “Harder.”

  Tension continued to build, a tempting awareness of something wonderful and elusive. She knew instinctively that only Devon could release it, could stop the torment. “Devon, please.” She licked her dry lips.

  He kissed her forehead. “I know what you need, Eugenia. Let go, sweetheart, I will be here to catch you.”

  “Yes, yes.” She shifted a bit until the pressure of his fingers was stronger. “Like that.” Her head thrashed back and forth as she continued to reach, to push, to beg.

  She slowly opened her eyes. Devon watched her, the depth of his concentration pushing her over the brink. She sucked in a breath and grabbed his arm. “I’m going to fall.”

  “No, my love. Let go, I will be here to catch you.”

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she felt as if her body had exploded into a million pieces, shooting toward the stars, circling out there in the darkness. Waves of something she’d never experienced before swept over her, reminiscent of water gushing from a dam. Ripples of intense pleasure brought a low keening sound from her mouth. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she struggled to take in a gulp of air.

  Her bones had truly melted, and she would never be the same again. She rolled toward Devon and rested her forehead against his chest, trying desperately to draw air into her lungs and keep her heart from bursting from her chest. He stroked her flushed, damp skin and murmured to her. She thought about what her body had just experienced. What in heaven’s name was that? Was that what her book was all about?

  No wonder the people in the drawings all looked so happy.

  …

  Devon held Eugenia close, his arms wrapped snugly around her. The thumping of her heart matched his. He kissed the top of her head as she recovered from her sexual climax. A comfortable feeling of male satisfaction settled over him at having given her that enjoyment.

  He was still dealing with mixed emotions. In her innocence she had no idea what she was doing to him with her eager responses. She was delightful, full of surprises tonight. Certainly not the Eugenia he had come to know.

  Once again her hand wandered down his body to grasp his cock. He took in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth. She appeared pleased to familiarize herself with his body. Had he been denying her this pleasure without thought? Based on all he’d been taught from boyhood, a proper wife would never want to do so.

  It was one’s mistress who brought sexual adventure and pleasure to a man. Wives did not want passion. In fact, the delicate creatures were disgusted by men’s baser nature. Which was why, he’d been told, a gentleman performs his duty to produce heirs, then leaves his wife free from his unwanted attentions. Eugenia had certainly not acted as though his attentions had been unwanted tonight.

  Despite his roiling thoughts, he allowed her hand to wander, even though it was killing him when all he wanted to do was plunge himself into her heat and softness. He still must control himself.

  “Does that feel good?” she murmured.

  Good? Lord, if death strikes me now I will die a happy man with this woman in my arms and her hand wrapped around my cock. “Yes, my dear. That feels quite good.”

  He watched her from under lowered lashes. The concentration on her face almost made him smile, which he would have done if he’d not been suffering from her exploration. And anxious to put his throbbing cock inside her.

  Her body was splayed on the bed, one slender leg straight, the other bent at the knee. The soft glow of the candlelight highlighted the tangled mess they’d made of her glorious hair that spilled over them both. Her lips were swollen with his kisses and, when she glanced up, the desire in her eyes swept him to a place so unfamiliar he felt his heart stumble. When had she come to mean so much to him?

  Her golden skin was all dips and curves, warmth and softness, and he was mesmerized as never before. Despite his ingrained beliefs about ladies, this goddess was right here in his house, and he had access to her any time he wished.

  She’s my wife, not some harlot. She will probably hate herself in the morning.

  Shoving that thought to the side, he watched as her hand explored him, rubbing the tip of his cock with her thumb. “So soft here, like my bath sponge. Yet so hard below.”

  Not able to handle any more without embarrassing himself, with one quick motion, he untied his banyan and, without even removing it, pushed her legs apart, where he nestled his hips. Instead of gently sliding in, as he generally did, he slipped both hands under her bottom and lifted her slightly.

  His eyes roamed over her body in the faint light, beginning at her head, down to the juncture of her thighs where, with a groan, he plunged into her. The muscles in his face grew tight as he closed his eyes and gripped her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies joined.

  A soft moan escaped Eugenia’s lips as she wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into the backs of his legs. Quickly he began to move, driving himself into her, swallowing her gasp as he leaned in for a searing kiss to continue the assault on her mouth.

  He drew back and gulped for air. “Can you feel that?” he asked as he worked his body. His muscles strained as he pounded against her.

  “Yes. I can feel that. It’s…” She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. He was unable to hold off, it had been too long since he’d had a woman who responded so much to his touch. Gritting his teeth with the strain of delaying as long as he had, he called her name and poured himself into her. With a grunt he collapsed, and then rolled to the side, taking her with him, wrapping her in the cocoon of his arms.

  What. The. Bloody. Hell. had just happened?

  …

  The following morning, Eugenia shifted on the bed to avoid the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. She and Devon had collapsed the night before and had fallen asleep without closing the bed curtains. He lay sprawled next to her, his superb body only partially covered by the twisted sheets.

  She gasped and flushed when she realized she was naked, too. Never in her entire life had she slept without a night rail. The decadence only added to all she had experienced the night before.

  With the bright light now illuminating Devon, she took her time to examine him carefully. Tousled hair lined his forehead, and already his face was shadowed with a morning beard. His classic features, dark eyelashes, and aristocratic nose gave strength to his visage. Slowly, her eyes drifted to his angular jaw, then his muscular chest with the black curly hair beginning between his flat nipples and continuing on down the middle to create a straight arrow to the area that so fascinated her.

  Her
eyes grew wide when the target of her interest seem to move and grow of its own accord. Afraid Devon was awake and watching, she jerked her head and looked at his face, but he remained asleep. She reached out a finger to touch it, and drew back when it moved again. The thing had a life of its own!

  She continued her perusal to include his long, powerful legs and elegant feet. He could easily be a statue of a Roman god in a museum somewhere. Except this god was warm flesh, and living and breathing male.

  And all hers.

  Surely after last night, he would no longer seek a mistress. Thoughts of all the naughty things they could do that she’d seen in her book brought another flush to her face. But she would be willing, in fact, excited, to indulge in them, in order to keep him by her side.

  She jumped when a warm hand landed on her thigh. “Good morning, my dear.” Devon viewed her from underneath the dark locks that fell over his forehead and partially covered his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair and brushed it back.

  Would he want to make love again? She thrilled at the idea of them doing that in the bright sunlight. Instead her smile faded when Devon rolled from the bed. “I am sorry to have stayed here all night. I did not mean to interrupt your sleep.”

  She rose up on one elbow and shook her head. “It was no burden, I assure you.”

  He bent and kissed the top of her head. “I will see you at breakfast.” He picked up his banyan that had found its way to the floor. Shrugging into it, he tied the belt as he walked to the door adjoining their chambers.

  It appeared there would be no morning re-creation of the night before. Eugenia sighed and pulled her nightgown over her head and rang for her maid. She was a bit sore between her legs, since last night’s bedding had been quite different from the others.

  Her heart thumped again as the memories flooded her. Would all the other times be the same? Was this something that all adults—except her—knew about? She didn’t know whether to feel stupid or angry. Why had her mother spent so much time telling her about her “duty” and how she should lie still and let her husband “do what he needed to do?”

  As Sally helped her bathe and select the morning gown she would wear, Eugenia began to feel a bit of sadness for her mother. After all those years of marriage, she had obviously never experienced what Eugenia had.

  Looking forward to seeing Devon once again, she sped through her morning routine, feeling as excited as a young girl with her first love. Then she sighed. Devon was her first love.

  She checked herself in the mirror, left her room, and hurried down the stairs. Only when she stood in front of the breakfast room door did she try to quell her excitement by taking a deep breath and entering. “Good morning.”

  The room was empty.

  All the air left her lungs. She turned to the footman at the door. “Has his lordship breakfasted yet?”

  “Yes, my lady. He left a short time ago.”

  “Oh.” She wandered to the table and sat when the man pulled out her chair. As much as she wanted to know where he’d gone, she would not ask. Asking a servant for her husband’s whereabouts was merely too lowering. Then she took herself to task. He might have had an appointment. They had never lived in each other’s pocket, so there really was no reason for him to have deviated from their normal life. Just because she felt like a silly young girl, she had no reason to expect him to now be at her beck and call.

  Feeling a bit better after her mental shake, she asked the footman to bring hot tea.

  …

  Devon had hurried through his bath and normal routine, indulging in a breakfast of only coffee and toast, and headed to his club. He had to get away from the house as quickly as possible.

  Last night had been incredible. He’d seen a side of Eugenia he never expected to witness in his entire life. She was not the woman he had courted and married. Certainly not the lady whose bed he’d visited for the past five months.

  Exhausted after their activity, he’d fallen into a deep sleep—one of the best he’d had in years. Stunned to not only find himself still in her bed, but Eugenia examining him, he’d made a quick exit that he was afraid appeared foolish.

  But he had to think. For a while now, he’d noticed a distinct change in his wife’s behavior. He thought back on the difference in the way she wore her hair, the types of gowns she’d started wearing, her popularity at the last ball they’d attended, and arriving home to find a room full of men gazing adoringly at her.

  Since it was still early in the day by ton standards, the club was half empty. Still, several men gathered around the betting book, a few played cards, a small group sat in a circle and, from the sound of it, discussed politics.

  Wishing some time to himself to read the newspaper and sort out his conflicting thoughts, he nodded at several men, then found a comfortable seat near the fireplace. After requesting coffee and a newspaper, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  As soon as he did, Eugenia popped into his mind. She’d been fascinating the night before. No shrinking violet, she had surprised him at every turn. A man could get used to a wife who was so responsive and active in the bedchamber.

  He thanked the footman who delivered the newspaper and coffee. He added cream and sugar to the cup and took a sip before snapping open the daily. Parliamentary news caught his attention, and he focused on that. Anything to get his mind off Eugenia.

  Finished with the political mess the Parliament was getting the country into, he leafed through until he reached the gossip column. Not one to pay much attention to it, nevertheless he perused the various articles, smiling at what the ton called news. Who was about to make an offer for whom, what events last week were considered a crush, and speculation on who was sneaking off with whom.

  This girl was considered a diamond of the first water, and that girl was having a hard time making anyone come up to scratch, even with her hefty dowry. He was about to toss it aside when a line caught his eye.

  Your humble correspondent is most confused by Lady D. and Lord R. making their early excuses from the Worthington garden party last week, and then leaving in the same carriage. Should Lord D. be concerned? One wonders.

  He bolted upright, with a sinking feeling slowly dropping like a stone to his stomach. Eugenia had been at the Worthington garden party last week. Without him, because he’d had an appointment with his man of business. His hands shook where he gripped the cursed newspaper as an explanation for the conundrum he’d been wrestling with hit him square in the gut like a well-aimed fist. The only reason for his wife’s bizarre behavior of late.

  Bloody, bloody hell. Eugenia has taken a lover.

  Chapter Eleven

  “The sound of a woman in her bath can be quite captivating.”

  Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 79

  Eugenia kept herself busy consulting with Cook, the housekeeper, and the gardener until it became apparent she had become an annoyance to them. She watched the clock all morning, and well past luncheon, but Devon did not return. Feeling somewhat silly for having all her thoughts on Devon and when he would return, she had the carriage brought around so she could make her afternoon calls.

  Once she was on her way, she felt her spirts lift. Just because his attentions last night had been more along the lines of what she had hoped for, that did not mean their daily routine had changed. What had she expected? That he would ravish her this morning?

  It would have been nice.

  The butler opened the door and took her card at Lady Spencer’s house. She followed him down the well-appointed corridor with inlaid black and white marble floors to the staircase boasting an odd piece of statuary she was unable to identify. Her hostess held the reputation for attempted sophistication that fell quite short of the mark. The fact that she relied on her unsophisticated, very young paramour for advice in that regard caused bemused comments whenever her name came up in conversation.

  They made their way to the first floor, where the staid butler announced her before she entered th
e room full of eight people.

  Like most drawing rooms in London townhouses of the Quality, the room boasted floor-to-ceiling windows, as well as a large marble fireplace. The feel of the room was much lighter, more feminine than the ground floor, displaying warm tones and silk wall hangings. A small balcony showed through the French doors where two ladies stood conversing and enjoying the garden below.

  Eugenia’s eyes grew wide, and she smiled brightly when she saw her brother, Nash, was one of the guests. “Nash! How nice to see you.”

  “Eugenia!” He moved toward her, his hands extended. He kissed her on the cheek and stood back to admire her. “’Tis indeed a pleasure to see you, Sister.” His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You look different.”

  Heat rose from her belly. She feared the flush would spread to her face as thoughts of all that had happened since she had last seen her brother swirled around her. The purchased—nay, theft—of her book, the change in her dress and hairstyles, and lastly the night before. Oh, yes, indeed, the night before.

  To keep him from examining her too closely, she tucked her hand in his arm and said, “I am the same as always. Perhaps you need to come visit more often.”

  “Touché.” He grinned the charming smile she remembered from their childhood. The one that had gotten him out of trouble many times—both with his tutors and their parents. A charmer, her brother. He’d inherited the title of Earl of Clarendon three years ago when he was five and twenty. Up to this point, he’d managed to escape the clutches of the marriage-minded mamas of the ton, but his appearance here made her wonder if this was the Season he’d decided to take a bride.

  “You must come for tea one day, Nash. I know Devon would love to see you, as well.”

  “It would be my honor.” He escorted her to a settee where Eugenia gave her regards to her hostess and the others gathered in the Spencer drawing room. It was an eclectic group, hosted by Lady Spencer and her very marriageable daughter, Lady Grace. Eugenia eyed the young girl with speculation.