Lord of the Rakes (22 page)

You see?
she asked silently.
See how well I have learned what you have to teach?

At last, Caroline pushed Philip’s trousers open and down. She sat back on her heels, for a moment able to do nothing but admire the defiant virility of the man.

Philip growled deep in his throat. She suspected he was about to issue some new command, but she had no intention of waiting for it. She wrapped one hand around him. Pleasure as strong as any produced by his hands lanced through her as she stroked him up and down. She cupped him. The touch of him fascinated her even as it fed her desires. She wanted this. She needed this.

“That is very good, my wicked dear.” But even as Philip spoke, he laced his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back. “Now you will use that pretty mouth of yours to pleasure me.”

Involuntarily, Caroline licked her lower lip. It was not a gesture she had ever considered. But then, neither was holding a man in her hands like this. She remembered the touch of his tongue on her most private part and how good that felt. Yes, she realized, she could do as he commanded.

Caroline bent down. She rubbed her cheek against his shaft. She brushed her lips against it. The sensation was almost too much to bear. Her tongue darted out, and touched, and stroked. The taste of him was strong and salty. She could feel the maddened beat of his heart here. She licked and she kissed and she fondled, and he groaned as she slid her lips up the groove in the underside of his swollen member, then ran her tongue around the blunt tip.

“God, yes, that’s it, that’s it . . .”

Caroline closed her lips around him. Salt and musk and arousal blended into a single intoxicating potion. She moaned around him and opened farther, letting him slide deeper into her mouth. The hard, blunt tip of him rubbed the roof of her mouth. Her thighs parted, and she lifted herself up on her knees, her body acting instinctively to find another angle that would allow her to take him deeper still.

“Yes, yes, my pretty wanton. My sweet, beautiful Caroline.” His hands were no longer still. He was caressing her back, encouraging her. He bent farther over her so he could reach the halves of her derriere. He stroked his fingers between them, stopping to press on her anus, sending a fresh and entirely unexpected burst of pleasure through her, making her open wider in anticipation.

“Yes, yes, that, too, we’ll have that, too.” He strained to reach farther, and she sucked him in, pressing her lips tight around him. He slipped his fingers deep into her and she groaned again. She clenched around his fingers and her lips clenched around his shaft. He plunged deeper, pumping, rubbing, finding a frantic, steady rhythm. Her whole body followed him, matching him thrust for thrust. Her breasts swung free and that felt good, too. She grasped the base of his shaft, desperate to maintain some control, but she was losing even that little bit of reserve. She fucked him with her mouth and he fucked her with his hands, hard, ruthless, entirely abandoned.

“You’ll come for me now,” he cried. “You’re so hot with me in your mouth. You will come now!” He found her nub, and pressed hard.

Perfection. Bliss. The still, gorgeous sensation that was pure pleasure. It held her and held her until her body could take no more. The hot, honeyed waves of her climax poured through the whole of her body. The force of her convulsions slammed her against Philip’s fingers and set her mouth pumping against his shaft.

“Ah, God! Yes, yes!”

Philip pulled away roughly, and pushed her onto the mattress with almost the same motion. The echoes of her climax were still shuddering through her as he spread her thighs. Philip plunged inside her with a single thrust. He shouted, a wordless ecstatic cry of lust and delight, and Caroline laughed for the power and the pleasure of desire as she arched her hips up to meet him.

“Yes!” she cried. “Again! Harder!”

He obeyed. He thrust forward, as lost to need and pleasure as she had been. She wrapped her legs tight around his smooth, hard buttocks, forcing him deep and holding him in place. She made him fight her to draw away for each fresh thrust and she gloried in the decadent friction his struggles produced. She was laughing, groaning, answering every thrust. He would surrender to her need as he had made her surrender to his. Surrender every inch, every ounce of himself. She felt her pleasure building again. It stretched and strained against her confining flesh.

Philip shattered. He thrust wildly, shouting, shuddering, moaning, driven beyond coherence by the force of his need. Absolute pleasure clenched Caroline’s whole body tight for one bright second before she fell, crashing into the waves. Her delight rolled over his and into his as their bodies fell together, arms winding around, pulling close, hearts pounding, mouths seeking each other for yet more kisses, at first in a frenzy brought by the storm of desire. Then more slowly—oh, so slowly—they both eased down, supporting each other gently as they fell together onto the blankets, to lie still and close once more.

I
should go.

Philip looked down at Caroline, asleep amid a nest of pillows and bolsters. She curled into a tiny bundle, as if determined to take up no more room than necessary. It made him wistful to see her clenched so tightly. It spoke of some deep need in her heart to hide.

I should go.

He looked to the curtains. Bars of sunlight stretched across the carpet. This was the second time he’d woken up this morning. The first had been just after dawn. Then he’d intended to rouse Caroline, to kiss her and take her once more before taking his leave. But he’d wrapped his arm around her, and she’d snuggled close, and smiled in her dreams. He’d stroked her cheek and she smiled again, and he found he couldn’t stand to wake her.

“What are you doing, Caroline?” he breathed. “What are you doing to me and to yourself?” But the only answer she made was to wriggle closer and lay her hand on his belly.

That should have been the signal for his member to take an interest in the proceedings, but it didn’t. In the warmth of Caroline’s unconscious embrace, Philip’s eyes had closed, and he, too, had drifted back into slumber.

Now it was hours later, and Philip was awake again, and again looking down at his lover. Through the curtained window, he heard the rattle and jingle of traffic filling the street. The soft sounds of a household going about its morning routine slipped under the door. He should be gone already, but he couldn’t move.

In her sleep, Caroline frowned. She whimpered and her foot jerked.

“What’s the matter?” Philip stroked her tumbled chestnut curls. “Be easy, Caroline. It’s all right.”

But she whimpered again, and kicked.

“Wake up, my dear.” Philip slid down the bolsters and gathered her into his arms. “Wake up. It’s all right.”

“No,” she answered, but whether it was his words or her dream he couldn’t tell. “No.”

“Yes.” He kissed her brow where it furrowed. “Yes. I’m here, Caroline. It’s all right. You can wake up. It’s safe out here.” He kissed her mouth.

Her eyes flew open and she jerked back, and for a moment Philip saw she didn’t recognize him. But it was only a moment.

“Oh, Lord,” she whispered, and started to pull away. “Did I say something . . .”

“Nothing at all.” He did not let her go. “It was just a nightmare, Caroline. You’re awake now.” Gently, he cupped the back of her head, urging her to rest against his shoulder. She was cold. He pulled the blankets up higher around her.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll be all right in a moment.”

“Can I ask what it was about? It might help to talk.”

She hesitated, but then she shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’ve almost forgotten it already.”

She was lying. Although she had her face turned away, he could feel the deception in the tension of her shoulders. Philip frowned. He would not force a confidence Caroline was not ready to give. At the same time this denial said she did not trust him. At this thought, a wave of sorrow ran through Philip. He felt suddenly not just bereft, but barren. It was as if all his experience came to nothing in the face of Caroline’s true needs. He wanted her trust. He wanted to pull her close and hear her troubles, even if they existed only in her imagination.

I should go.
The thought repeated itself, but this time there was something like panic underneath it.

Caroline sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. She looked pink and tumbled and perfect. He could still taste her musk on his lips. Now his indolent member did twitch. He wondered what she would do if he ordered her to lie back so he could treat her once more to that most intimate of kisses. Surely, that would clear any lingering nightmares from her mind.

“I expect you want to be going,” she said as she turned from him. “I think there’s some water in the basin if you want to wash . . .”

She was trying to be brisk and careless, but she sounded tired. He sat up against the headboard and contemplated her. “I expect you have a great deal to do.”

Caroline shrugged. “I’m meeting with Mr. Upton, my man of business, but that is not until one . . . but you do not want to hear about that.”

Philip laughed. “You sound very decided about what I want to hear!”

“Well, I just assumed you . . . you would not want . . .”

Philip caught her hand and kissed it. “Caroline, do you think we are friends?”

She started at this. “I don’t know. We are lovers . . .”

“And you know that is not the same thing.” He hesitated. This was not safe. Not here, not with this woman. But dammit, he would not be driven to keep his distance by fear, especially fear he did not understand. He had never acted the coward’s part before, and he would not start now. “Would you like to be friends?”

Caroline considered this for long enough to make Philip uncomfortable. “Yes,” she said at last. “I would like to be friends.”

“Then let us be. Friends talk to each other, I believe, and share the little details of their day.”

“Lady friends do,” agreed Caroline. “I do not have any idea what gentlemen friends do together.”

She had absolutely no idea how many salacious answers he had for that question. Philip decided against them all. “To be perfectly honest, most gentlemen tend to drink and gamble and complain about horses.”

“That sounds rather limiting.”

“Why do you think so many of us seek out the company of ladies? Aside from the obvious,” he added for the pleasure of seeing her blush.

“I wouldn’t know. Mostly men have sought out my company for . . .” She bit down on the words.

“For what? Money? A place in the first circle?”

“Both. Either. It hardly matters, does it?”

“No, I suppose it does not.” Another entirely unexpected tremor of uneasiness touched him. “You don’t believe that’s what I’m doing here, do you?”

“Of course not.” Caroline’s smile was genuine this time, and she laid her hand against his cheek. “Whatever it is you’re seeking, it’s not that.”

He took her hand and kissed the palm. “My dear, you’re overthinking the matter. What I seek is here.” He touched the corner of her mouth. “And here.” He curled his hand across her thigh.

“Yes, of course.” She drew her hand away.

“You still look thoughtful.”

“It does happen sometime.” She swung her legs out of the bed and reached for the silk wrapper that hung on the back of the dressing room door. “Will you . . . would you . . . would you like some breakfast? At least a cup of coffee or chocolate? I’m sure my people are already up . . .”

Philip rested his elbows on his knees and watched her as she drew on the yellow silk wrapper. Then he stood, and when he was very sure she was watching, he unknotted the sash from the bedpost.

He would not be driven by fear. He was free and he would remain so. They could not be seen together in public, but there was no reason why they could not enjoy a meal in her house. None whatsoever. It was nothing he had not done before.

But never before with Lady Caroline, who was already driving his mind down more unaccustomed paths than he could count.

She’s leaving,
he told himself.
It’s all right. She is leaving.

But
why
was she? He dismissed the question, again. To distract himself, he moved behind her, letting her feel him brush against the small of her back, just where the curve of her ass began to swell. With careful and deliberate motions, he drew the sash, and the silk robe, around her waist. Caroline leaned back against him, trusting him with the whole of her weight. She knew he would not let her fall. “I will stay as long as you want me to.”

Making sure his fingers caressed her waist and hips, he tied the sash in a loose bow across her belly.

“I think I liked it better around the bedpost,” Caroline murmured.

“Oh, my dear,” breathed Philip. “You should be careful what you wish for.”

 • • • 

It was another hour before Philip permitted her to ring for Mrs. Ferriday.

First he bound her with her back to the bedpost so that he could please himself by playing with her breasts and her folds until she was begging him to let her come. Only then did he cup his hands around her bottom so he could lift her up and impale her on him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, helpless to do anything more. Philip had taken her hard and long until the climax of their pleasure took them both so far beyond themselves Caroline was not certain she would ever find her way back.

Afterward, they shared a wash from the water in the basin. This only resulted in them laughing and slapping each other with the towels as if they were children. The conflict ended with Caroline threatening to dump the entire ewer over Philip’s head, only to find that it was already empty, which caused him to wrestle it away from her. This, in turn, seemed to require that he wrap his arms around her so his hands clasped her derriere and she could feel him growing pleasantly hard again. Which made her kiss him and lean herself against him so her cool breasts nestled provocatively against his chest.

She was not sure whether to be frustrated or grateful that Philip pulled away.

“There will be more, my dear.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest, right where she could feel the beating of his heart. “I give you my solemn word. As much as you want.”

But something inside Caroline doubted that. She already knew she would never get enough of Philip Montcalm, not of his touch or his laugh or his heated sexuality. He woke her physical hunger, and these past few days had taught her that hunger was insatiable.

It will fade. It must fade. No feeling so intense can last.
At least, that was what she told herself as she finally donned her wrapper, and the sash, and rang for Mrs. Ferriday.

Philip retired to the chimney corner when Mrs. Ferriday made her entrance. But Caroline’s attendant kept her countenance as she informed Caroline that breakfast was ready and would be laid out in the dining room. She brought a fresh pitcher of water and dry towels with her. She curtsied to Philip and left.

“I am glad to see you so well attended,” said Philip as they proceeded to make the best use of the time and dress. “Has she been with you long?”

“She’s my mother’s cousin, and was her lady’s maid for several years. When Mother died, she asked to stay with me.” Caroline drew her blue sprigged morning dress over her head. “I could not have come to London without her. She made all the arrangements for the house and servants, and carried . . . she saw that some confidential correspondence was kept safe.” Without thinking about it, she turned her back to Philip and let him do up her dress.

“You’re lucky to have such loyalty,” he said as he smoothed the fabric across her shoulders.

“Surely you have some people attached to your family?”

Philip shrugged into his coat, which had remained mostly unwrinkled. “Perhaps we do, but they’re not attached to me. Or my father, noticeably.” He contemplated the dispirited strip of linen that had been his cravat. “Certainly none of their children stay with the estate.”

“Don’t they?” Caroline sat down at her dressing table. “That’s unusual. Where do the children go?”

“I don’t know. They just . . . go.” He came to stand behind her so he could wind his cravat around his collar and tie it in a simple knot that would pass muster at least for the morning. “Not surprising, I suppose. My father can be a hard man to get along with.” He paused and eyed her reflection in the glass. “You’re giving me that thoughtful look again.”

“I beg your pardon if my thinking offends you.”

His smile grew wicked, and he closed both hands over her shoulders, reawakening that thrill deep inside her core that seemed always waiting for his touch. “That depends entirely on what you are thinking about.”

Caroline let her face form into a piqued moue. “Oh, no. Not again, sir.” She used the edge of her silver brush to shoo his hands off her shoulders. “I am hungry and want my breakfast.”

“Well, who am I to deny my lady her desire?” Philip bowed and held out his arm.

Caroline laid her hand on his arm as if he were leading her into dinner at the most proper of gatherings. But as he escorted her through the door and down the stairs to the dining room, she felt something in her heart cry out. Because it was not Philip who denied her what she desired. It was she herself. Something in her wanted to seize this laughter, this companionship, and never let go. This was the true nature of the hunger Philip awoke in her.

It will fade,
she told herself fiercely.
It must fade.