Suzi Love (33 page)

He pulled her bottom deeper into the cradle of his thighs, letting her feel his intensifying desire by sliding along her cleft, through her cream and readying her. She was as eager as he for the fulfilment that only came when they joined completely, body and soul. Using his fingers, he stroked her with concentration and with a rich, never-changing rhythm, until she wriggled and panted and sang his name. A siren’s song.

Never would he tire of the way she called to him, urged him on. Finding her wet opening, he spread her thick milk, parted her and thrust upwards. Deep and straight, this time he risked filling her to the hilt.

Tossing back her long red hair, Becca arched and accepted him, sucking his pulsing arousal into the walls of her womb. Here he’d found his home, his salvation.

Pleasure washed them, sucked them in as she found her rhythm and rocked against him where he was imbedded so deeply. She writhed against his dark nest of pubic hair. Tickling, tantalising. Taking them up. And then he jerked, unable to hold back the spasms as he yelled her name with masculine possession. Her nails dug crescents into his shoulders as the first powerful waves of his release rippled through him.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he ordered. “Now.”

In this private arena, he commanded and she obeyed and he was gratified when a shuddering orgasm grabbed her and sent her spinning. Her inner muscles squeezed like an iron fist around his cock and the warm flood of his stream spurted ever upwards. He filled her body as he yearned to fill her life, her mind, her heart.

He tried to jerk out but she clamped her thighs tightly. Her recently awakened body was not ready to liberate him when she was at the peak of such new pleasure. With each contraction, she drained him more. Over and over. And still she held him tight. Eyes still closed, she slumped forward onto his chest. Spent.

Heedless of how her tears were flowing down her face to spread wetly over his chest, Becca sobbed. He brought his arms up to encircle her, wanting to enclose her in a cocoon of comfort, one from which he hoped she would never fly. She cried even harder. They lay entwined until her sobs subsided.

Brushing her hair back from her face, Cayle watched her. “I made you cry. Why?”

“It’s not … not you,” she sobbed. “It’s the sheer beauty of it. Us. Together. It makes me feel powerful. Whole.”

• • •

After a minute’s silence, Cayle groaned and shook his head. “Damn! You didn’t give me a chance to protect you. And I was too carried away with wanting you to stop.”

Wide eyed, she pulled back. “Protect me from a child, you mean.”

“Yes. A child. I’ve always taken extreme care not to bring a bastard into this world. There’s enough strife in people’s lives as it is, without careless idiots adding to it.”

Nevertheless, seeing the emotion in Becca’s eyes, Cayle knew exactly what he wanted. Something he’d never let himself admit to needing before. Something that was crazy in his present situation.

He wanted to make love to a woman for more than money, for more than a night’s pleasure. A woman who was his friend, a woman who made him laugh and long to live life to the fullest. A girl he’d known all his life and obsessed over as she blossomed into a ravishing beauty who unwittingly bewitched all around her. He wanted to make a child with her, to see her belly grow round with their baby.

Jesus, he liked her. Adored her. There’d never been another who sparked his humour, occupied his mind, and stirred his body to molten heat. Effortlessly, just by being herself, she managed to do all three at the same time.

He wanted Becca. Desperately. Hungrily. He could admit it now.

“Becca, when I was nineteen I kissed Polly. Yet in my dreams, I imagined it was you. I flirted with Annie, knowing I couldn’t do the same with you. All the time, with any other woman, I saw you, only you.”

“I thought I wasn’t pretty enough for you.” She twirled the hairs on his bare chest around her finger. “I thought I didn’t have enough bosoms.”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “If you’re fishing for compliments, let me reassure you, your bosoms have matured nicely.”

He squeezed one globe of her rounded bottom, savouring the weight in his hands. “As have all your other female assets. But back then, you were a young sheltered girl. Far too good for me. Far too innocent. That’s why I stayed away until you were older, until that night at the stables. Even then, I resisted coming to your house, knowing how I’d feel once I saw you again. It was always the same.”

He saw the startled expression on her face as she digested his disclosure. She’d obviously never known how deeply he felt about her. He considered how she’d react if he told her now. If he revealed everything he envisaged in the future. Of how he was even now conspiring to make it happen as he wanted, to fall into place at his command.

“Cayle — ”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Shush, sweetheart. It’s of no importance. Now, we need to get you home before you’re missed.”

He knew she’d gnaw over what all this might mean but his own feelings were still too new, too raw, to set her mind at rest. To convince her of his sincerity after rejecting her so many times.

Becca was different from other women. Her scientific mind would theorise that he’d made love with her because he was physically unable to resist the allure of her body. The male of the species mating with the female. Could she believe in a man who led a woman on and then rejected her, not just once but several times? No, she’d reiterated she didn’t want him permanently. Not just him, but any man. A husband didn’t figure in her immediate plans.

What she wanted was it. The extreme pleasure she’d found that had turned her into a demanding wanton. The wild passion that boiled under the facade of a conforming lady had been uncorked. It was far too late to put the stopper back.

He’d caused the revolution and he wanted nothing more than to reap the benefits every day for the rest of their lives. But this was his second chance with Becca and this time he was determined to get it right.

However, all that would have to wait. Other problems hung like black clouds over their heads. His conscience tugged at him and resolutely he moved her aside and arose, muttering, “I need to get you home. We’ve much to face tomorrow. The authorities will question me regarding the fire, and the gunshot, but I’ll ensure nobody remembers you were there.”

• • •

Donning his garments was far more difficult than it’d ever been before with any other woman he’d lain with, no matter how beautiful or sexually enticing. He walked to the door to summon Jenner and the carriage.

But at the door, he made a mistake. Instead of seeing Becca home, he looked back at her. She stood before the fire, shrugging into her damp gown. The light picked up the fiery sheen of her hair and showed the swollen pout of her lips where he’d kissed her, repeatedly.

While he watched, she reached up to touch her lips with a look of wonder and amazement on her face. And he was lost. He could no more control the wanting that racked his body than she could, and he’d gained a lot more experience in lessons of control.

“Bloody hell. Michael will shoot me.”

She laughed. A full-throated gurgle that enthralled him with its joyous release of feelings. His Becca, normally so worried about her family and never harming or upsetting them, decided that her own pleasure should come before theirs.

She looked happy, free, as if she was revelling in the moment and their shared intimacy. As if she was made for his loving. Tonight, he’d helped her forget their problems and think only of her own pleasure. He’d released the sensuous side of her nature so long hidden.

When he hovered beside the door, undecided of whether to go or stay, she took control. With a seductive swish of her hips, she sauntered towards where he stood paralysed, hand on the knob.

“What Michael never knows, will never hurt him. This is between you and me, Cayle, for whatever time we have left together.”

Before she could utter another word, he swept her up into his arms and crushed his lips to hers as he launched them back to the rug in a whirlwind of action. Clothing flew around the room in a flurry of activity as they both strived to get the other naked in as short a time as possible.

The next night, Becca pushed open the door to her bedroom and sighed tiredly. She’d told her maid not to wait up for her and Laura had already opened her gown’s buttons. As she walked, she undressed, so exhausted she could hardly take the time to shrug off her gown before she dropped into bed. Her chemise followed her gown onto the floor in a puddle.

She was untying the ribbons for her drawers when she stopped, sensing a presence in her room. Her mouth opened on a scream but when she recognised who’d invaded her private sanctum she managed to shut it again with an annoyed snap before she’d roused the household. Both hands clutched her chest where her heart pounded at a frantic rate.

“God almighty! You scared me.”

“Oh, I promise I’m going to do a lot more than scare you.”

A dark headed, dark eyed, and glowering giant rose from his concealed position in a chair near the fire and stalked towards her. He wore only a fine lawn shirt hanging loosely over trousers and each time his huge fists clenched and unclenched at his thighs, muscles rippled in tight waves up his equally hefty arms. With the aristocratic Cayle covered by civilised accoutrements and his raw character tamed and masked, it was easy to disregard how powerful he was, how dangerous.

The resemblance to the panther he’d referred to the night Becca braved entering his lair was striking. So much had happened it resembled a lifetime; yet, it was mere weeks since she’d disguised herself to visit Mayfair. Tonight, this prowling panther intimidated her far more and she backed away, knowing the words about to explode from his mouth. Knowing the reason he was so angry with her.

“Where are you going, my beloved? Surely you can’t have forgotten me already? I’m the man who made love to you last evening. The lover who’s going to throttle your deceitful, contriving, miserable little neck.”

Her eyes went wide and she stopped breathing as she searched her mind for something to appease him. “Please stop.” She held up a hand as she glanced around for an escape route. “I promise, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, do tell me what I’m supposed to think then. I’ve called here at your house three times today.”

“I can explain.”

“Each time, I was told you weren’t available to callers. At first, I thought you were avoiding me. That perhaps you were embarrassed about seeing me again, after what we shared last night.”

“No, it wasn’t that.”

He shot her an angry glare as he continued following her around the room, circling the bed, and shaking his head.

“Of course, then I remembered. How blind of me. What a ridiculous assumption. I wasn’t dealing with any ordinary woman. Not one who might blush and simper after rolling naked — ”

“Shush!” She hissed, putting her hand over his mouth. “Someone might hear you.”

He pulled her fingers down and glared again, keeping a tight hold on her wayward hand. “And what would that matter at this stage? Laura already listens to everything we do and say. Your aunt already reports every move we make to Michael. Lottie has Tony so twisted around her little finger, she only has to smile and he’ll spill every secret known to the foreign office. And to the St. Martin family.”

He released her to wave his arms in the air in a wild gesture and raised his voice to almost a shout. “Keeping quiet about us now would be like bolting the stable door after the horse has bolted.”

“I thought you were worried about scandal.”

He bent over to grasp her forearms and hold her still. “Not anymore.” He gave her a little shake.

“Avoiding scandal was impossible the moment I became involved with you! And your confounded risk taking. As of now, I’ve given up caring. It’s too distressing for my nerves. As are the mindless risks you take.”

“I do not take risks.” She backed out of his grasp. “On occasion, I become involved in incidents, minor incidents, only by accident.”

“Minor? Such as what I was told happened today? Clued-up at my clubs. Informed by at least a dozen people on the streets. Told that my betrothed — ”

“We’re not marrying.”

“ — involved herself in a public disturbance. I demand to know — ”

“You demand to know?” She glared back, undaunted by his black mood.

“ — where in hell you’ve been. All damn day. Every minute of it. And whom you were with. When you should have been with me.”

“What gives you the right to demand anything from me?”

Perhaps if she’d had the sense to not confront Cayle at this late hour, in her bedroom, and when he was undoubtedly angry, nothing would’ve happened. Maybe he’d have turned and walked away, or run away, as he’d done before. Instead, he grabbed her almost roughly and pulled her to him before she had a chance to argue or lecture him.

As he’d done many times before, he assumed immediate control of her mouth, smothered her protests, swallowed her words and kissed. Kissed her the way they both savoured, and then drew back to suck in a ragged breath and assess the fire he always ignited in her with so little effort. Each time they came together, it was a mix of anger and joy, fire and water, and the inevitable explosion that left them weakened and stunned.

“That!” He gave her another little shake.

“That gives me the right. This thing, this wild attraction between us. You can’t deny we want each other.”

“You’re the one who decried anything but friendship between us. Several times in fact. Not me. It was never me.”

His large hands plunged through his thick hair, upsetting even more his mussed style, making him appear younger yet also frustrated and confused.

“I’ve always, always, acknowledged the power of these feelings between us, Becca. The difficulty has been that I couldn’t act upon them. Not four years ago, and not even two weeks ago. My life was too complicated.”

“Damn you, Cayle, for doing this to me again. That part of your life, all those family complications, they haven’t changed. Julia’s still pulling your strings.”