Read Promise of Pleasure Online
Authors: Cheryl Holt
Promise of Pleasure (20 page)
“Yes.”
“How old were you?”
“Ten.”
“Ten! You were a child.”
“Yes.”
“Your father is a bully,” she huffed with disgust. “An absolute bully.”
“Yes, he is.”
“If he doesn’t like you, I don’t like
him.”
him.”
“Give him hell, my little champion.”
“Aren’t you the only son he has now?”
“Yes.”
“Then he should be nicer to you.”
“I agree. If you ever see him again, be sure and tell him.”
“I will.”
She gazed up at him, appearing shrewd and loyal and so very, very pretty, and his pulse made the strangest fluttering motion.
Suddenly, he was overcome by the most powerful wave of affection, and he yearned to confess what his childhood had been like. He wanted to explain about his lonely years as a boy with a deceased mother and a distant, angry father.
He wanted to describe how much he’d loved his brother, how devastated he’d been after the accident.
Because Sunderland had blamed him, there had been no solace for Jordan, no consolation, no chance to grieve. Often, he felt that he’d never recovered from what had transpired, and the bitter memories weighed him down with guilt and remorse.
Mary’s interest in his past, her steadfast support, her apparent belief in him and his version of events, was like a soothing balm that he could use to heal old wounds.
Without her knowing, she’d given him a gift he would always cherish, and in the process, she made him ache to be bound to her as he’d never been with another.
He would marry Felicity, but Mary was the one he would treasure. And while he’d told himself he wouldn’t ruin her, he wasn’t about to ignore their physical attraction. Though it was horrid and selfish, he was desperate to join himself to her in the only way that counted.
He dropped to her breast and began sucking on her nipple, and she sighed with pleasure and arched up, offering more of herself, which he readily accepted.
She was such a sexual creature that, with minimal effort, he sent her soaring, her orgasm exhilarating and potent and as satisfying for him as it had been for her.
“You are so wonderful,” she said as she floated down.
“You have to be the only person in the world who’s ever thought so.”
“People are idiots,” she claimed. “They haven’t gotten to know you as I have.”
“And what is it that you
know
about me?” He was pathetically eager to hear a compliment.
know
about me?” He was pathetically eager to hear a compliment.
“You’re kind, and you’re funny, and though you pretend to be callous and cruel, you’re not.”
“Hmm ...” he mumbled.
He was embarrassed by her praise, and his cheeks flushed with chagrin. She was wrong about him, of course, and he hoped she would never have to learn just how wrong.
He kissed her again, and as he drew away, he was too aroused to delay the inevitable.
“I want you to do something with me,” he said.
“Anything,” she vowed. “I will do
anything
for you. Just tell me what it is.”
anything
for you. Just tell me what it is.”
He wasn’t a saint, and at her statement, he persuaded himself that she was amenable, even though she couldn’t be aware of what she was relinquishing until it was too late.
“I want to make love to you, as a husband makes love to his wife.”
“How does it happen?”
“I will join my body to yours. Here.” He reached down and slipped two fingers into her sheath.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I was always curious.”
“It’s rather physical.”
This was the spot where he should have been candid, where he should have reminded her of the consequences. She might never be able to marry her dear Harold. She might be forever abandoning her chance for a home and family of her own, but he was greedily silent, convinced that if he didn’t follow through, his entire life would have been meaningless.
“What does it feel like?” she inquired.
“It’s difficult to explain. Let me show you.”
She dithered, then laughed. “All right. Have your way with me.”
She flung her arms to the side, like a virgin preparing to be sacrificed, and on seeing her lying beneath him, so trusting and so innocently gullible, he had a peculiar attack of conscience. When he liked her so much, how could he behave so badly toward her?
But as quickly as the question arose, he shoved it away.
He wished he could change the path he’d set them on, but he’d never been a man to deny himself, and when he was so feverishly attracted to her, it was pointless to debate his choices.
Still, he found himself murmuring, “Promise me that you’ll never be sorry.”
“I never will be. I promise.”
“Tomorrow, when you’re more yourself, I couldn’t bear it if you regretted what we’d done.”
“Knowing you is the only thing that brings me any joy.” Her smile was eloquent and wise. “I could never regret anything we did together.”
“If you’re sure ...”
“I’m very, very sure.”
Again, he persuaded himself that she was an adult, that she understood the risk she was taking.
He dipped to her breasts, kneading and sucking at them, driving her up and up. Swiftly, she was at the edge, and with a flick of his thumb, he pushed her into ecstasy.
She cried out, sounding merry and rapturous, and as she drifted down, he was fussing with his trousers, freeing the last of the buttons, yanking the fabric down his hips. Any restraint he might still have possessed had vanished in a fog of desire.
He clasped hold of her thighs, his torso dropping down, as he centered his cock. She was wet and enticing, and it was all he could do to keep from ramming into her like a beast.
He took several deep breaths, calming himself, gaining control. When he was more composed, he began flexing, and at the odd positioning, she tensed.
“This will hurt,” he warned, “but only for a moment, and only the first time.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“It will. Put your arms around me. Hug me tight.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, just like that. Try to relax.”
“I am trying.”
“We’re almost finished.”
She was splayed wide, the tip of his phallus wedged against her maidenhead, and she pulled him closer, her lips tickling his ear.
“Tell me you love me,” she whispered. “I know you won’t mean it, but just this once, tell me so I can pretend.”
At her request, a wave of lust shot through him, and he flexed with all his might.
With one forceful plunge, he entered her, and he heard himself say, “Yes, Mary, I love you.”
Strangely, the words seemed to be true, and the impression was so shocking that he wondered if he should clarify or retract the declaration. He wanted to pause so he could consider his intent, but the time for rumination was over.
He was so swept up that he couldn’t hold back. He thrust and thrust, being carried away by a powerful orgasm that came upon him so unexpectedly, there was no occasion for rational thought.
Without reflection, without regard to the perils, he spilled himself inside her. But try as he might, he couldn’t make himself feel sorry. As the movement of his hips ground to a halt, he should have been aghast, but he couldn’t find the appropriate remorse.
He felt smug and satisfied and practically silly with delight.
On the morrow, there would be plenty of opportunity to panic and fret, but while his phallus was still pulsing with his release, he was experiencing what could only be described as a profound amount of joy.
She was very quiet, very subdued, and he was curious as to her opinion of the event. He’d been very rough, when usually, he was much better at pacing himself.
“My dearest, Mary,” he asked, “what do you think?”
“I’m not a virgin anymore, am I?”
“No. Are you still glad we proceeded?”
“Yes, I’m still glad.”
He eased away from her, hating how she winced as their bodies separated.
“Are you sore?”
“I’ll mend.”
“It won’t hurt the next time.”
“Does that mean we get to do it again someday?”
“Oh yes, we definitely get to do it again—and again and again.”
He snuggled her onto her side and spooned himself to her, tugging the blankets over them, sealing them in a warm cocoon.
“I should have been more careful with you,” he said. “I should have gone slower.”
“I didn’t mind. It was actually rather thrilling.”
He raised up and kissed her on the cheek. “You arouse me beyond my limits.”
“Good.”
She smiled as he rubbed a contented hand up and down her thigh.
“Could I be pregnant now?” she asked.
His heart seized with alarm, but he ignored it.
“It can’t happen from just one time.” He had no idea why he’d voiced the idiotic lie, but he had, and there was no withdrawing it.
“I wish I was pregnant. I wish I could have your baby.”
So do I
...
...
The terrifying, bizarre reply muscled its way to the fore, but he let it fade away without giving it any credence.
After his own dreadful upbringing, he hoped to never have any children. He’d had no role model to show him how fatherhood was accomplished, and he was positive he’d be awful at it.
“Don’t worry about it now,” he said.
She was drifting off, her torso relaxing.
“Stay with me tonight,” she implored. “Will you?”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes droopy with sleep.
No doubt at dawn, she’d be horrified to find him nestled with her, but at that moment, wild horses couldn’t have dragged him away.
“Yes, I’ll stay,” he promised. “For as long as you want.”
Chapter 13
MARY glanced over at the window and saw that it was morning. The light seemed inordinately bright, and it hurt her eyes.
She groaned and sat up, but a pounding headache ripped through her, and she flopped down onto her pillow.
Something was different, and she tried to remember what it was.
Memory flooded in a panicked rush.
“Oh my Lord,” she muttered, “what have I done?”
She lifted the quilt to verify what she’d suspected: She was naked.
Carefully, she peeked to the side, and there was Jordan, naked, too, awake and grinning. He appeared young and mischievous and born to cause trouble—which he certainly had.
“Oh my Lord,” she muttered again.
She focused on her antics from the prior evening. Many were vivid in her mind. Others were hazy, while others still were lost in a black void.
One deed remained crystal clear.
Stretching her legs, she winced at how her female areas ached, how her
non
virginal body protested its new condition.
non
virginal body protested its new condition.
She wasn’t loose, and she wasn’t a doxy, and while she and Jordan had previously trysted in various ways, none of their behaviors came anywhere close to matching what they’d accomplished. She was mortified, unsure, and completely out of her element.
When she’d given herself to him, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world, but now, as sober reality crashed down, she was aghast.
Was she mad?
Her chastity had been blithely surrendered; she could never wed Harold or anyone else. If she was pregnant, and Victoria learned of it, Mary would be immediately evicted.
She’d risked everything for a night of wondrous pleasure, and while a small part of her screamed,
It was worth it,
she knew it hadn’t been.
It was worth it,
she knew it hadn’t been.
Jordan was very comfortable, as if he woke up in her bed all the time, and he was watching her, waiting to see what she’d do next.
Any bizarre act seemed likely.
“Good morning,” he murmured, and he swooped in and stole a kiss. “How is your head?”
“Throbbing.”
“I like you when you’re drunk.”
“You’re a beast to mention it.”
“It made you terribly easy to seduce.”
“You’re a cad to have taken advantage when my defenses were low.”
“I don’t think you should drink any more of Mr. Dubois’s remedy.”
“No, I don’t think I ought.”
“Or any hard spirits for that matter.”
She frowned, recollection hammering at her. “By any chance, did I ... I ... propose to you?”
“Yes.”
He was very smug, very humored, and she flung an arm over her eyes.
“Dear Jesus,” she mumbled, “take me now.”
“You shouldn’t count on Him rescuing you. Haven’t you heard? We fornicators are damned.”
He drew her to him and gave her another kiss. For a moment, she wallowed in the embrace, but she was quickly swamped by guilt and fear. She tried to slide away, but he wouldn’t release her.
“You promised you wouldn’t be sorry, Mary. Remember?”
“I realize that I said I wouldn’t be, but I’m ... I’m ...”
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