A Scoundrel by Moonlight (19 page)

She reached up to smooth the frown drawing his brows together. “I survived.”

“I hurt you.”

“A little. But it’s bearable.”

While she would lie to comfort him, it was true. She didn’t feel nearly so uncomfortable. She’d never been this close to anyone. She shifted to settle his weight, and thought that there might even be some pleasure.

“Let me make it better than bearable.”

Nell wasn’t certain if she wanted to continue. Surely now that he’d taken her, it was over. But she saw in his eyes that hurting her had hurt him. She struggled to smile. “Go ahead.”

The joining had eased to fullness. Leath didn’t appear so stricken, thank goodness. After he’d taken her maidenhead, he’d looked ready to slit his throat.

Very carefully he retreated. To her surprise, those same muscles that had clenched on his fingers tightened. He
withdrew almost to the point of leaving her body and she took her first full breath in what felt like hours.

“So we’re lovers,” she said softly. Now that he no longer squeezed inside her, she almost felt good. Surely like most things, she’d get better at this, the more she did it.

Leath’s radiant smile warned her. “Not nearly, my lovely Eleanor.”

Before she could question his triumph—because that was what it looked like—he flexed his hips and slid inside. Apart from a faint twinge, he didn’t hurt her this time.

“Oh.” She released a huff of amazement.

“You’ll see,” he said, pausing before withdrawing.

A thousand sensitive nerves felt the smooth pull. And they all trilled with pleasure. This time, her “oh” conveyed delight.

Her deathly grip on his back loosened and she stroked him, enjoying the ripple of muscles under her hands. “Do that again,” she demanded.

He leaned forward and kissed her, hard and thoroughly. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, filling her senses with his taste. He lingered at the peak of his thrust so that she felt doubly possessed.

Leath stared down, eyes alight. “Better?”

“Oh, yes,” she admitted on a hiss.

Nell arched as he joined her and unbelievably the pleasure swelled. He filled every inch, but now she relished the experience. She felt claimed from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

He changed the angle and a sky full of fireworks exploded inside her. This was even better than when he’d used his fingers. This was like flying, or galloping on the fastest horse.

Better than that.

Much better than that. Much, much better than that.

“How lovely,” she murmured as he repeated the action. Every time he moved, he found some new way to please her.

Sensation spiraled upward. Up and up with every stroke of his big, wonderful body. She was gasping, reaching, straining after something. Something beyond her knowledge.

Still he moved, inexorable as the ocean, powerful as the roll of the earth.

She rose and rose. Then he tilted her hips, plunged deep and her tension shattered into a million glittering stars. As the shining flood swept her away, she cried out his name.

A
t last she’d called him James.

The satisfaction of hearing his name on Eleanor’s lips almost outweighed the satisfaction of feeling her clench around him in ecstasy. Well, perhaps not.

And none too soon. For hours, Leath had been on a tight rein, knowing that what he did tonight set the tone for their affair. Yet still he’d hurt her.

Then everything, praise heaven, had come right.

Quivering with reaction, she stretched beneath him. He kissed her with all the reverence in his heart. She was beautiful. Magnificent. A woman in a million. He didn’t deserve her, but by God, he meant to cherish her. While breath remained in his body, nobody would harm her.

He closed his eyes and at last sought his own pleasure. The measured, deliberate thrusts became choppier. Still, he didn’t let go. He remained desperately aware of her innocence.

She closed her eyes and her breath emerged in uneven gasps. Her hands linked loosely around his neck. Through the building storm, he saw that she looked utterly exhausted.

It had been a long night. And he was about to close it with a climax like none before. The surge of power began at his toes, flooded up through his legs then concentrated in his balls. The pressure was everywhere. His head. His lungs. His gut. His cock.

His muscles tightened to shredding. His heart hurled itself into his ribs. He sucked in a breath, then released it on a long, shuddering groan as his seed spurted into her.

He jerked once, twice. Then again.

The pounding rush extended beyond his experience. Whatever magic this woman possessed, he wanted more of it. This was a night of miracles.

She cried out with pleasure as every bone in his body dissolved to water. He hardly had energy to breathe. The urge to collapse upon her was overwhelming, but at the last minute, he rolled aside, taking her with him. The arms he lashed around her were heavier than stone.

“James…” she murmured sleepily, pressing her head to his galloping heart. “Dear James.”

The sound of his name blasted through him like cannon fire. The glow remained from those blazing moments when he’d spilled into her. He felt extraordinarily weary. As though he’d climbed the highest mountain or dived to the depths of the sea.

“Are you all right?” He couldn’t forget how tight she’d been, how tight she was now.

He spread his hands across the damp skin of her back and brushed his cheek against her ruffled hair. Her scent surrounded him, redolent with fulfillment.

She pressed closer. “I’m… wonderful,” she said, sounding awed.

“You are indeed wonderful.” He’d been awestruck himself, and he had a deal more experience than the virtuous
Miss Trim. Except as he’d slid into her slender body, he’d felt untouched and renewed. Only with Eleanor could he call this an act of love.

Because he did love her.

Damn him for a numskull. He’d loved her for weeks, but he’d been too thickheaded to see it.

Joy flooded him. He’d never imagined falling in love. He had nothing against the idea, but he’d grown up without intimate friends and he’d never before felt a deep connection with a woman. He had colleagues, he had mentors, he had acolytes. The occasional lover. But nobody who addressed his soul as its equal.

From the first, Eleanor Trim had done that. Only she had seen him for the man he was.

She shifted, murmuring lazy satisfaction into his chest, and their bodies separated. He felt brief regret, then remembered that this was merely the beginning. They’d stay in this cottage a week and make plans. He couldn’t ignore the demands of his real life, but somewhere he’d find room for Eleanor.

The inescapable fact was that lying here, holding her, listening to the rain patter against the windows—the storm had calmed even as lightning had flashed in this room—this moment felt more real than anything before. His so-called real life was unimportant compared to his need to keep this woman. She was as essential to him as air.

He already saw that there would be repercussions. He was accounted a brave man, but apprehension at what he’d started here pricked cold and sharp at his contentment.

Leath told himself that powerful sex turned his mind to mush. Tomorrow, his brain would return to its ruthless, ambitious, logical ways. No man made a lifetime commitment to a paramour. He owed his family a brilliant aristocratic
wedding and political success at the highest level. A temporary mistress couldn’t upset plans made in his cradle.

A temporary mistress…

Eleanor snuggled closer. The way she drifted off in his embrace moved him in ways he couldn’t explain. He shifted to settle her more comfortably and drew the covers to keep her warm.

He’d never slept with a woman. It would never have occurred to him to linger cuddling the experienced ladies who had shared their favors. Yet while Eleanor’s nearness stirred his hunger—he had an almighty hunger to appease—he didn’t wake her. Not just because only a brute would use her again so soon.

The fire died down. He probably should do something about stoking it, but he was too contented to budge. Through the shadows, he watched Eleanor’s beautiful face. She was so lovely. The sight of her made his heart dip in delight. It always had. He should have long ago realized that he was in love.

He closed his eyes, yet something clawed at him, rattled his peace. As he stared into the night, he realized that it was a single word.

Temporary.

Nell stirred to warmth and a glow of happiness. Strong arms encircled her. Musky scent teased her senses. She rested her head on a man’s bare chest and his heart thudded beneath her ear. She nestled closer to that reassuring sound.

It was early. Pale light edged the curtains, but the sun was yet to rise. The room was dark. The fire had died long ago.

“Good morning,” a deep voice murmured above her head.

She stretched against James, loving the hot slide of his skin. So far, life as a fallen woman was full of splendid surprises. She hadn’t expected the pleasure she’d found last
night, especially after the awkward beginning. She hadn’t expected to feel so blissful waking in the marquess’s arms.

“Good morning, my lord,” she whispered back.

“I was James last night,” he said softly.

“James.” She said the word slowly, relishing the mellifluous hiss.

She kissed his chest, the hair tickling her nose. Luxuriously she rubbed her foot along his leg, feeling the rasp of hair there too.

“If you keep doing that, there will be consequences,” he said on a rumble of amusement.

“How terrifying,” she said drily. He started the day interested, she discovered.

She gasped when he tipped her onto her back and rose above her. “You’re an impudent baggage.”

Breathlessly, she laughed, running her hands over his broad shoulders. “I don’t think you should call me names.”

“I do.” He glanced a kiss across her nose. “Sweetheart.”

She shivered at the playful contact. The last traces of sleep ebbed.

Another kiss between her eyebrows. “Darling.”

A squeak of pleasure escaped. She liked him to tease her. She liked it even better when he kissed her at the same time.

“Dearest.” Two kisses this time, one on each fluttering eyelid. “Sweeting.”

She tilted her chin in silent invitation. This game was diverting, of course it was. But her lips tingled for the taste of his.

“Beautiful girl.” A kiss on her ear and a subtle puff of breath that made her toes curl.

She caught his arms in eager hands. “You won your point, my lord.”

“My lord again?” He nibbled a line from her jaw up to her
ear and nipped at her earlobe. Another shivery ripple had her squirming into the sheets.

“Perhaps I want to call you names too.”

He bit her earlobe again, then tugged with his teeth. She caught her breath. Who knew that something as humble as her ear offered such pleasure?

“Call me James, Eleanor.”

“Will you kiss me if I do?”

“I won’t if you don’t.”

Her eyes narrowed. Last night, she’d learned many things about James Fairbrother, Marquess of Leath. One was that she wielded more power over him than she’d credited.

She tried to read his expression, but the darkness defeated her. Instead, she sought other clues. His jagged breathing. The heat of his skin.

“You want me,” she whispered, walking her fingers across the taut line of his shoulders and delighting in the way his skin tightened under the caress. She bumped her hips up to confirm his readiness. “You can’t hide it.”

He groaned and scraped his teeth down her neck. His beard chafed her delightfully. “No, damn you, I can’t.”

“That makes me happy.” She tugged at his hair and he grunted as he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

“I’d like to make you happy.”

“Then you know what to do.”

“Witch.” He raised his head. “You’ll still be sore.”

She shifted, lifting her knees. Her thighs brushed his hips and she tilted into his pulsing virility. Pulsing virility that would soon be inside her if she had her way.

A wriggle to test for pain. She experienced a few twinges, but nothing to compare to her need. Even if he hurt her, the profound union when he joined his body to hers outweighed all discomfort. “Perhaps if we’re careful.”

He dropped his head and took her mouth in a tender kiss. Her lips parted on a sigh.

Even through the dim light, she felt his heated gaze. “I love that you’re not coy. From the first, I wanted your honesty.”

“I thought you wanted my surrender,” she said, only half joking.

He smiled, his teeth a flash of white in the darkness. “That too.” He kissed her again, running his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened. “I’m merely human.”

“Show me how human, James.” She stretched up to prolong the kiss, using her tongue.

He lowered over her. His kiss spoke of stirring passion, but tenderness lingered like a star through mist. “With pleasure.” He paused. “But, Eleanor, if you want me to stop, I will.”

“Oh, my dear.” She curved her hand around his strong neck. Her tone wasn’t teasing. Instead she sounded like she choked on the love flooding her. He made her feel as fragile as lace and as strong as steel. She swallowed, moved to tears. Now was no time to yield to emotion. She’d entered this arrangement knowing that a mistress was neither permanent nor essential in a man’s life. Yet every moment strengthened the bond between them.

If she started to believe in forever, she asked for a world of anguish.

She didn’t know if he heard the betraying wobble in the endearment. She suspected he did because his kiss was sweet.

She caught his shoulders and angled forward in blatant invitation. He stroked her, there where she wanted him so badly. She shuddered and a whimper of enjoyment escaped. Before consenting to be his mistress, she’d come to terms
with loving him. Now every touch left her shaking with desire.

Last night, he’d built her arousal slowly, but this morning he seemed, like her, impatient. His thumb brushed that place that shot thrills along her veins, then he shifted and hot thickness pressed into her.

She prepared for pain. But he slid into her smoothly and her body welcomed him the way the earth welcomed the sunrise. She gasped with wonder.

He shuddered into stillness. “Am I hurting you?”

She arched, changing the angle in the most delicious way. Another sigh of pleasure.

“Eleanor?” His voice cracked with strain. “Answer me.”

She tugged him down for a hungry kiss. His hips flexed as he pushed deeper.

In the early light, she caught his faint smile as he raised his head. “I’m taking that as permission to continue.”

She luxuriated in the long, slow glide of his body. How had she lived without this? But of course, she’d waited for the right man. As Leath circled his hips, setting off a fresh cascade of sensations, she knew he was the lover that she’d dreamed of all her life.

“Yes,” she managed to say before closing her eyes on a moan as he thrust more purposefully, so deep that surely he must touch her womb. A declaration of love surged, but he shifted, withdrawing with a voluptuous languor that banished everything but pleasure from her mind.

He moved again and again with a primeval rhythm. Last night, she’d scaled the ladder to heaven. But this powerful possession of her body—a possession that extended to her heart too—proved that a thousand roads led to paradise.

Her hands trailed up and down his back, feeling his muscles tense then relax with every thrust. Ruthlessly, he tipped
her, changing the angle again. Fresh heat seared her. She moaned when he kissed her tight nipples.

This time she dared to explore further. He plunged hard as her hands fluttered over the small of his back, then discovered two intriguing dimples on either side of his backbone. She’d always known he was a well-built man, but his naked form was pure power. She felt surrounded, conquered, devoured. She felt strong and fulfilled.

She ventured lower to caress firm buttocks. He jerked and bit out a curse when she scraped her fingernails across his flesh. The air was heavy with the scent of their mating.