Authors: Eliza Lloyd
She did not reach for the covers. Sebastian was propped up
beside her, not touching her, but she felt the hard penetration of his stare.
Perhaps he hoped to see something of her in the dark.
Before she realized what he was doing, he had slipped his
hand over her face—the left side of her face—and through the loose tendrils of
her hair.
Her heart took flight again, this time in panic, as his
thumb caressed along her jaw, tracing one of her scars.
“I can’t hide from my feelings anymore and you must stop
hiding from your scars.” The heat of his body enveloped her. Against her hip
she felt the hard prodding of his erection. “I love you, Grace. Nothing is
going to change that.”
A wash of tears gathered in her eyes and then trickled down
the side of her face.
Then he was over her.
His body was hot and hard as he settled, slipping between
her legs and spreading her open. One of his arms was braced near her shoulder,
his other hand caressed her thigh and then cradled her hip.
The first nudge into her body sent alarming sensations
through her stomach and into her chest. She shook her head, trying to catch her
breath. His hand skimmed down her leg and gently he wrapped the limb around his
waist.
Then he was filling her—a slow, torturous thrust that
stretched her and made her want to open farther. She wanted all of him. She
wanted to feel his hips press against her thighs.
“Oh Seb,” she said. She drew in breathless little pants and
exhaled in throaty groans.
He withdrew and pushed back, sending a sharp stab deep in
her womb. It was so new, as if she had never had a man.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked. He stayed deep but no longer
moved. She throbbed inside and wondered if it wasn’t him, if it wasn’t his
erection pulsing and making her dizzy with longing.
“No. No,” she said. She clutched at his shoulders and raised
her hips, surging up to meet him. He let her move then clutched her waist and
rolled with her.
Sebastian’s large hands encircled her waist. She leaned
forward, pressing her hands to his chest. Tendrils of her hair had come loose
and cascaded over her breasts, silky and ticklish, making her feel desirable
again. He used one of his hands to brush them aside and then kneaded. He waited
for her, but to do what she wasn’t sure.
Hammond had never had her this way—it was only ever him
grunting, pushing into her, and she bearing his weight.
Grace closed her eyes, the building sensation spreading to
her toes and everywhere else. Her legs quivered as though made of jelly. Her
will and reason had long vanished.
She caressed the firmness of his chest muscles, allowing
herself to take what she truly wanted. Maybe she could bear some honesty with
him—that her feelings had never changed.
Sadness was the only difference.
When his hands were at her waist again, he lifted her. As
she slid back down, she shivered at the delicious sound of his groaning
pleasure. Again he lifted her, encouraging her until she settled into a
decadent rhythm that made her thankful the room was dark. She labored over his
cock, writhing as she searched for release.
She had not thought it possible for a woman to use a man or
that a man would let a woman do such things.
His hands did nothing more than soothe and caress.
There were no words to describe the achiness that built
between her legs. Each time she felt the stirring need crest higher she slowed
until the feeling waned. She had to make it last. She wanted to cherish this
memory forever.
As she started rocking again, the swell of pleasure was
unstoppable. She moaned, sinking fully onto his shaft. Her nails dug into his
chest and she threw her head back.
Seb sat up, cradling her, braced with one arm. His hips
jerked hard between her legs. She heard his satisfying release and imagined she
felt the warmth of it high up in her body as she lost touch with reality and
soared. The tempest finished with pulsing contractions over his cock. Near her
ear, she heard his gentle hum as he felt each pull.
His hands stroked over her back and he lowered them to the
bed again. Grace would have preferred to remove herself from the bed but
Sebastian held her tight until she finally relaxed and placed her head against
his chest near his shoulder.
As he withdrew from her body, a slick of wetness trickled
from her.
She couldn’t say anything, but Sebastian did not hold back.
“I came here to marry you, Grace. I won’t take no for an
answer.”
Sebastian did not regret saying the words. He had meant to
do so more formally. When they were dressed. And after he had seen her scars.
But he knew it was better this way. Having her in his arms
assuaged his fears. Grace was still Grace—the woman he had fallen in love with
ages ago—despite the rough road she had traveled and in spite of his uncanny
ability to make mistakes of the worst sort with her.
The darkness had made everything clear. Waiting until after
he saw her would have been his final mistake—for eternity she would have
doubted his sincerity and he would have doubted his motivation. Pity was not
reason enough to marry.
Grace deserved the best of what he had to offer.
Now that the words were out, she stiffened in his arms and
braced one hand against the bed.
“Stay,” he said, drawing the sheet over her nakedness.
“You can’t be serious.”
He took her hand so she had to lie against him, her breasts
pressed to his chest. Her hair tickled his chin. Expectation was a good thing
but it never matched reality. He had dreamt of this moment for months and he
was loath to think of it ending. Somehow he would persuade her and there was
not a better place than between the sheets. “Never more serious.”
“I’m not going back to London. I have found my place here.”
“A hundred excuses do not change the fact we belong
together.”
“I don’t need you to rescue me.”
“You are more prickly then I remember.”
“That’s because I’m not a foolish child anymore.”
She was pleasantly warm but tension vibrated through her.
“Were you foolish to love me back then?”
“Yes.”
“And now?” he asked.
“There is no now. This moment is ending and you must leave
in the morning.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Please don’t. Please just go. I can’t bear to have you near
me, knowing it will all end.”
“Just like before?”
She didn’t answer. He didn’t know how a woman could ignore a
marriage proposal, especially when said woman was naked and well-pleasured.
“Do you know what the real tragedy is? I will miss out on
all of the beautiful children we would have had together. They would have all
had your eyes. I think I want a passel of girls first. All blonde haired with
pink ribbons and clamoring to sit on Papa’s lap.”
Seb wouldn’t speculate about why she had no children with
Hammond. He didn’t care. Only that they might.
“You aren’t worried they’ll have your nose?”
He laughed a little. “Just the boys. When they come. Do you
not dream of such things anymore, Grace? Has this taken all your dreams away?”
He caressed the left side of her face, tracing over the scars. His fingers did
not lie. Hammond had damn near ruined a masterpiece.
“Don’t.”
“It is part of you, a part I completely accept.”
“How can you? You haven’t seen me.”
“That can change with the lighting of a candle.”
“The last time you lit a candle in the dark you almost set
fire to Lady Allingsworth’s library.”
“I couldn’t very well kiss you in the dark.”
“The darkness hasn’t seemed to bother you tonight.”
“I’ve had practice since then. Say yes, Grace. I won’t sleep
until you do.”
She pressed her lips to his chest and he couldn’t help the
stir of excitement. He had wanted her for so long. At times he had wondered if
his desire was directly proportionate to his inability to have her but tonight
proved otherwise.
She was free. He was determined.
“You haven’t seen me. I’m not—”
“Diamonds in the rough are still diamonds. If I could go
back I would. Nothing could stop me from taking you to Gretna Green. Nothing.”
Her fingers dug into his arm. “I’m afraid, Seb. Afraid that
you won’t like what you see.”
“Wait until you see my nose. August broke it again.”
“At Jackson’s Saloon? Will you two ever stop fighting?” She
lifted her head and tentatively ran her finger down the bridge of his nose,
stopping and caressing the obvious bump.
“August swears it was an accident but I’m sure it had
something to do with the fact I bet him he couldn’t get me off my feet. He
did.”
“I heard August married.”
“Last summer. To one of the Fields. Did you know Diana?”
“She came out the same year as my youngest sister. I’m glad
he married well.”
“Now if only his older brother could be so lucky.”
“The answer is no, Seb. I wouldn’t blight your married life
with such ugliness.”
“Have you been studying for the stage? That almost sounded
melodramatic.” With his words, she fought to get away from him this time. He
rolled with her instead, pinning her to the bed and holding both of her wrists
in a firm lock.
“Don’t be cruel,” she said.
“I was being honest. I don’t care, Grace, and it’s time you
put the past behind you.”
Naked, there was only one way to show her he was being
serious. He had sufficiently recovered and a firm erection nested between her
legs. Having Grace in his arms so warm and womanly was all the motivation he
needed to love her again.
He shifted his hips, his cock finding the sweetness of her
sheath with unerring accuracy. She was still deliciously wet and his entry was
swift and deep.
She gasped and arched up into him.
Gawd, he wanted to see her.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
“From now on we’ll be together. I promise you, Grace.”
He pressed his mouth to hers, freeing her hands and bracing
himself over her. Kissing her mouth was like sipping mead, heady and soothing.
She slipped her fingers through his hair. Her other hand slid down his back and
clasped his buttocks.
There was no hurry and there never would be again. He
started a slow rhythm. Grace thrust her hips, writhing beneath him. He hooked
an arm around one of her knees, then her other. He braced his arms on the bed,
canting her. Penetration was deeper, the pleasure greater.
Her arms fell to her sides as if she could no longer move.
The only sound she made was a sensual hum that vibrated through him, driving
him.
Even in the dark he could see the sparkle of her eyes. She
watched him, searching for something. The truth maybe.
He trailed kisses along her jaw, over the scars and to her
ear. She sighed but didn’t turn away.
Her body was gleaming in the darkness of the room.
She cupped her breasts, offering them along with everything
else she was giving. He bent his head and sucked on her nipples. Her moaning
turned into high-pitched cries. She peaked beneath him, sending rippling waves
of pleasure over his cock. He held deep within her—still hard for her.
Would that ever change?
When she was breathing normally again, he started a faster
rhythm, anxious for his own release but determined to bring her along again.
Within moments she was gasping and he was losing control.
Sweet, sweet uncontrollable release.
He spilled great amounts of seed. He did not care to think
of her unmarried state and any possible consequences. To him she was his wife
whether or not she was ready to admit that possibility.
When he rolled from her, he went to his stomach beside her,
still feeling the pleasurable aftersensations that fluttered from his legs through
his groin and to his chest.
Nothing was resolved, but the pull of sleep was dragging him
under.
The last sensation he felt was the tender press of her lips
down his spine and the gentle flick of her tongue over his skin. Had he the
energy, he would have rolled over and allowed her tongue to bathe his cock.
He felt the tug of a smile at his lips. From now on, they
would be together.
* * * * *
When he woke, the room was still dark but the gray feel of
dawn cast a certain pall that told him it was time to go. There was a spot of
heat on his stomach and he glanced down to see Grace’s ass tucked neatly
against his body. Her hair lay in a messy heap between them.
Touching her would lead to other temptations and he did not
think Grace would want him to see her natural and exposed, at least not yet.
He slipped from the bed and into his trousers. The note he
had prepared for her went on the bedside stand. When she opened it, she would
realize the seriousness of his offer.
Once he collected his other garments and his greatcoat, he
eased from her room and pulled the door shut quietly.
“Good morning, Lord Ridgley.” Mr. Felix stood alone in the
darkened hallway, neatly dressed as if he had stood guard all night. “Did you
sleep well, my lord?”
“Not at all. I thank you for your concern.” Ridgley walked
past him.
“You do the duchess a great disservice.” Felix fell into
step beside him.
“I don’t think that is what she thought.”
“Pardon me for saying so, but men like you are a
commonplace, Lord Ridgley. And the Duchess of Hammond is the finest woman any
of us know. We would not take kindly to anyone who might wish to hurt her.”
“Then you will be relieved to know I have only the most
honorable intentions. I intend to marry your duchess.”
“I do not see how that is possible, since she recently
accepted an offer from the local vicar.”
* * * * *
On Fridays, Grace and Vicar Lawrence took foodstuffs to
those in need. Several local woman baked breads. She donated a slaughter animal
monthly that was roasted and divided up into portions. Fall usually brought an
onslaught of extra goodies, including baskets of fruit and homemade jams.
Anyone in need was welcome to receive the charity but Grace found it was
usually a matter of pride that kept people from asking and a matter of local gossip
that kept her and Vicar Lawrence busy.