Once Upon a Scandal (22 page)

“I have been shooting pistols since I was six and hitting every mark since I was nine.” Pressing her against the wall with his hips, he lifted her chin upward to better look at her beautiful, flushed features. “I will not die. He will.”

“You cannot predict what will happen.”

He outlined her chin with his thumb. “Do you love me, Victoria?”

She blinked rapidly. “Why else do you think I don’t want you to duel?”

He lowered his head and hovered over her lips, the heat of her breath mingling with his own. “Do not insinuate what you feel for me. Say it. I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you,” she whispered ever so softly.

“Like you mean it.”

“I love you, Jonathan,” she announced with more bravado and strength. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His jaw tightened as he dug his erection against her lower half. “How much do you love me?”

She drew in a breath and let it out. “Too much.”

“Too much is just enough for this man.”

“And do you love me?” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead tenderly, wishing to God he could erase what had been done to her. “I have always loved you. Always. You know that.”

He kissed her forehead again and again, brushing away the curling strands of blond hair gathered atop her head. He dug his fingers into its softness and removed one ivory pin after another, tossing them until all her thick hair slid down heavily and tumbled past his arms, her shoulders and down to her waist. Just as he’d joked those many years ago, she now truly looked like a mermaid. “By God, I would die for you.”

She pushed at him, her eyes widening. “Do not die for me. Live for me. I have had my share of death.”

“Let us not speak of it anymore. I promise you, in time, I will erase what was done. I will touch you in a way to make you mine again. All mine. Not his. I will erase the wrong that’s been done.”

Her gaze narrowed with savage determination as she tugged him near. “I do not need it to be erased at the expense of your life. You cannot and will not fight this duel. We are leaving Venice. Tonight.”

“I will not set aside this wrong. Nor will I run.”

Her flushed features tightened. “You will not be running. You will be acknowledging what is more important: us. This is about honoring yourself, Jonathan, as opposed to blindly submitting to whatever you feel. Not all emotions are good, and they cannot always be trusted. Even the best men can grow rotten. Turn away from the way you feel this once and do not submit to a savage act unworthy of you.”

“Victoria—”

“Let nothing come between us again. Not now. Not ever. Now ravage me. Consummate this marriage. Do it. Now.”

The base of his throat pulsed and throbbed as he fought his need for her. “No. I… Not now. We will do so tonight. In a bed. As you deserve.”

“I know what I deserve. Now do you, Jonathan Pierce Thatcher, Viscount Remington, want to engage me, Lady Victoria Jane Thatcher, in all physical matters and in turn make us both love each other more than we already do?”

He swallowed. “Of course.”

“Then do not make me beg for what is rightfully ours. For what has always been ours. Have we not waited long enough to be happy? Do we not deserve this moment? I am submitting everything I am to you, Jonathan, and ask you to submit everything you are to me.”

God save him, this couldn’t be real. He gently set her against the wall, lifted her chin toward him and lowered his head. He covered her mouth with his own, wanting her to know that he loved her. So damn much.

Nudging her lips farther apart, he pulled her tongue deep into his mouth and slid his hands down the length of her. He dug the tips of his fingers into the fabric of her gown in a desperate effort to contain his need to rip her dress apart and slam into her. What she needed from him was tenderness. Not more savage lust.

Her hands sagged for a moment, then trailed down the length of the buttons on his waistcoat toward his trousers. He shifted to allow her hands to roam and pushed his tongue rigidly against hers, challenging her to do more. One hand slid toward his backside, whilst the other gently rubbed against his erection, causing him to grind against her hand to increase the tightening sensations coursing through his body.

Her palm opened completely and rubbed the tip, finding it through the wool of his trousers, causing him to gasp against her mouth. He didn’t know if she knew what she was doing, but it felt amazing.

Breaking their kiss, he set her more firmly against the wall and slid down the length of her body, savoring every curve that met his hands, until he was on his knees before her. He unfastened his trousers, pushed aside his undergarments and pulled out his heavy erection whose tip was already beading with wetness. He grabbed the hems of her skirts and threw them over his head, disappearing beneath them.

“Jonathan!” she gasped.

“Shh. It will be my lips and my hands you will forever remember.” Though he could see nothing, he could feel her soft warmth and smell her moistened lavender skin. He eased her silk stocking–clad legs apart and skimmed his lips past a lace garter toward the inside of her thigh. He drifted toward her warmth and dragged his tongue against her nub, then sucked. Dragged, then sucked.

Her hips started to sway rhythmically against him, moans escaping her. It was beautiful and erotic.

And he knew that if he should die come tomorrow morning in her honor, he would have died knowing he had finally claimed the greatest love he had ever known.

AS JONATHAN’S hot tongue lapped at her wet folds, forcing sensations to sabotage all thoughts, Victoria sagged helplessly against the wall and set her palms against it in a desperate effort to steady herself. She gasped for air as his large warm hands firmly held her in place. He was reminding her that such touches were magnificent. Not vile. Not savage. They denoted love. The purest and truest love.

Her knees grew weak against the tightening sensations overwhelming her and despite struggling to remain upright, she simply could not. With a moan, she slid heavily down the length of the wall toward him, causing him to stop. He withdrew from beneath her skirts just as she sagged onto the floor.

With his dark hair ruffled from his adventures beneath the fabric, he rolled onto his back, dragging her along with him. Her long, unbound hair seemed to tumble everywhere around them.

He lifted her and sat her just beneath his exposed erection. She pushed her hair back over her shoulders to keep it from interfering with everything he had in mind.

Holding her gaze with searing blue eyes, he slowly dragged her skirts up and up and pushed the gathered material away, exposing her lower half to him. “You will be carrying our child soon,” he whispered up at her. “I will see to it. Tell me. How many children do you want? Do you even know?”

Her skin prickled and her heart pounded, aware of what was about to happen and that a child could indeed come of it. Their child. She lifted herself slightly to allow him entrance. “Four,” she whispered back. “Promise me four.”

“Four you will get.” His hand slipped between them as he guided himself to her opening. He paused, meeting her gaze.

Sensing his hesitation, Victoria boldly defied him by forcefully sinking her entire weight down against that thick length. She gasped, stiffening against the unexpected searing pain that stretched and filled her.

Jonathan let out an anguished moan and grabbed hold of her waist, burying himself even deeper. “Dearest God, this cannot be real.”

It was real. All of it. Them. This.

She sucked in a breath, trying to control the assault of physical sensations. It was equally as pleasurable as it was painful. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“You went too damn fast,” he breathed out, his chest heaving. “Do it slow for a bit of time. For both of our sakes. Or I will not last and you will not benefit. Now move against me. Slow. And once you are ready, fast.”

She set her hands against his chest and slowly rose against his length and down it, the growing moisture surrounding her folds making it not only more tolerable but even enjoyable. With each slow and steady movement, she found herself growing more and more bold, allowing his rigid length to go deeper and deeper, stretching herself more. Sensations started to build and she began to lose the ability to go slow.

He moved beneath her, his hold tightening on her waist as he fiercely took over each movement. “Look at me, Victoria,” he rasped. “I want you to look at me.”

Their eyes locked.

Holding her gaze, he thrust against her again and again, each thrust growing more violent and urgent. His shaven jaw grew tighter and tighter, his blue eyes never once leaving hers as he pounded up into her.

“Say you love me,” he insisted. “Say it.”

“I love you,” she choked out, pushing down against his relentless thrusts and sensing she was but a few strokes away from the bliss she so desperately sought.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” she choked down at him, her voice echoing all around them in the ballroom.

She held his gaze the whole while, gasping and swaying and meeting the demands of his raging lust that seemed to grow with each passing second. She wanted to prove to him that he needed her far too much to ever do anything that might force them apart. She thrust down against his thick length repeatedly, her moans mingling more steadily with his grunts as her body trembled and pushed her beyond anything she had ever experienced.

“Look at me,” he huffed out, pumping even faster. He kept holding and holding her gaze as if he needed her in order to breathe and to live. “Do not ever once close your eyes. Do not ever let me go. Not even as you fly.”

Her eyes widened as she stared down into those love-ridden, penetrating blue eyes. Her entire body at long last bloomed with an agonizing pleasure that made her cry out. She desperately fought to keep her head up over him and do as he commanded. She bucked against him, bliss shattering everything but her breath and those eyes that held so much love. She would never be the same. And she vowed to never hide from her emotions or from him ever again.

JONATHAN’S MIND blanked as Victoria’s wet, squeezing warmth tightened around his thick length. She cried out, her body and hair swaying against him, her smooth face flushing, but held his gaze as he had commanded.

Knowing she had found pleasure, he let a tormented groan escape him and quickly rolled her onto her back, ready to submit to his own. He set his hands just outside her shoulders and moved against her faster and faster, once again capturing those green eyes and silently commanding her never to let him go.

His breaths grew more and more ragged as the onslaught of sensations made his world spin. “Victoria. God. Victoria. This is everything I ever wanted and more.”

His entire body shook with an explosive rush he’d never known. He choked out moan after moan that echoed around them as his seed spilled into her womb.

When his heart had eventually slowed, he kissed her smooth forehead, her nose and lips and withdrew himself gently, settling beside her on the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally and physically exhausted, and wondered what the hell had just happened to him. It was as if his soul had been cleansed. He had finally made love. He hadn’t fucked. He had made love.

Victoria sighed wistfully. “Jonathan.”

Still dazed, he turned to her, wrapping his arms around her, and cradled her against his chest. He nuzzled her abundant hair, the scent of soap and lavender calming his whirling thoughts. He lifted his head and smiled down at her, unable to find the words to express what this moment meant to him. She was finally his. All his. And no one and nothing was ever going to take her from him.

After a few long moments, she whispered up at him, “I don’t want you to duel. I want my four children. And I want those children to have a father.”

His chest tightened, reality slashing his thoughts yet again. He sat and pushed himself back into his trousers, fastening the flap into place. “There is nothing more to say.” He stood, reached down and, taking both of her hands, pulled her gently up onto her feet. Her skirts fell back down around her legs with a rustle. He kissed her hands. “When he arrives tomorrow, you will retire. I do not want him seeing you ever again. I will do what I need to do to protect you and your honor. If you defy me in this, I will ensure your bedchamber door is bolted shut. Is that understood?”

She stared at him, abashed, and violently yanked her hands from his. “You are going to die and you expect me to be accepting of it?”

“I expect you to respect my decision. As a man.”

“Whilst you disrespect me as a woman?”

“Enough. We will speak of this no more.”

“So be it.” She frantically gathered the silver chain from around her throat and yanked it up over her head. Grabbing his hand, she thrust it into his palm. “Take this.” She yanked off the ruby ring from her finger and smacked it atop the pendant. “And this.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “What are you informing me of? That after you have claimed the very last of me, you intend to toss me? For what? For defending your honor? As is my right as your husband? As is my right as a man?”

She leveled him with a firm stare. “If you fight this duel, I will not be waiting for you, whether you live or die. And all you will have to remember me by, should you live, are the objects you now hold in your hand. For that is how you are treating me, Jonathan. As a possession of yours that some other man has put his hands upon.”