The Secret Love of a Gentleman (18 page)

He knelt between her parted legs on the stiff, uneven straw mattress.

His imagination cried out for him to do a hundred different things as he leant forward and held her breast, then brought her nipple to his mouth while his hair dripped water onto her skin.

Her breast had become cold.

She sighed into the air above his head.

Her fingertips ran across his back and combed through his damp hair.

Outside, another flash lit up the sky, but the rumble of thunder came long after.

He sucked her breast, nipping it with his teeth, then licking, revelling in the textures.

She arched beneath him.

“Rob, take off your shirt. It’s wet and uncomfortable.”

Her words broke him from a trance. He let her nipple slip from his mouth, before straightening up to kneel between her thighs, looking down at her.

It still poured with rain outside.

His bottom rested on the heels of his boots, as he pulled his shirt off and left it on the end of the bed. Caro lay before him, with her chemise parted over her breasts, and her thighs parted beneath her skirt. She offered herself like a sacrificial gift. He leant forward, gripping the straw mattress beside her shoulders and pressed his lips onto hers.

Her breasts brushed against the hair on his chest, part soft skin and part wet cotton.

His hand cradled her head and the other clasped the flesh of one breast while their tongues caressed and played.

His instincts—the dry need in his throat and lust in his groin—called his mouth back to her breast. Her body lifted, pressing up as he caught her nipple on his tongue, then sucked it fiercely.

Caro’s fingers ran over his back and then down to the waistband of his trousers. The tips of her fingers slipped beneath it as she pressed her hips up against his erection, sounds of enjoyment breaking from her throat.

The lust and thirst inside him gathered like the storm. He let her nipple slip from his mouth, raised himself up and stared down at her as her hips fell back to the mattress. “We should cease this.”

“No.” Her head shook, crushing her damp, darkened, golden hair against the mattress while her eyes begged him to continue.

“It can be nothing more than this.”

Her lips and her nipples had become a deeper pink.

“I know, but I don’t ask you to hold back and yet you do?”

“Because I have a conscience and I believe in holding fast to morals.”

“Forget them.” Her eyes were liquid, pools of emotion. “Just this once. These are our last moments, we will not have this chance again.” … She was part naked beneath him and he was half naked above her.

His body cried out for him to listen and let go.

Her hand reached down between them and freed a button that secured his flap. He caught hold of her hand to stop her freeing the next.

Her eyes had looked at what she was doing, but now she looked at him. “Let me. Let us…”

He breathed out heavily.

Lust was a drug, it was heady and confusing; it made his blood thick and his skin hot and his mind a pulp.

“Let me, Rob, there will be no harm done. I am not an innocent, young woman.” Her words pierced through his chest, but he would not tell her why.

I am innocent…

The sound of the rain on the roof filled his consciousness as he breathed hard while his idealistic nature fought against the thirst grasping at the back of his throat.

“Let go. It is what I desperately want. Let us have this memory.”

He eased the grip on her hand and it slipped away to free the next button on his trousers, and the next. He felt in pain, conquered. He could not fight this anymore. He did not wish to.

Her hand clasped his flesh as her gaze held his. He’d dreamed of such things since their night in the library and woken up amidst sweat-dampened sheets.

He leant forward, lowered his head, and kissed her as her small hand held him tighter and slid up, then down.

She was so fragile and slender beneath him.

Her thumb brushed across his tip and his whole body jolted.
Damn
. He did not wish to hold back. He thrust into her hand, sliding through her fingers, then withdrew from them, while his breath released into her mouth.

Her other hand began raising her skirt.

He took over the task, wondering how far they would let this go. He cupped her bottom through the thin layer of her damp underwear as he thrust through her fingers again and again, the heat in his blood rising, and the pulp in his brain thickening, confusing his thoughts.

“Take off my underwear.”

How far did she wish him to go?

He broke their kiss and his forehead fell against hers, as he clung to sanity, with his eyes closed…“Would you have me be entirely indecent?”

“Yes.” Her fingers held him, as though she treasured him.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head.

Her gaze begged. “Just this once.”

His heart pounded like a piston in his chest.

Just this once.
His body ached for it.

He knelt onto his heels once more, his erection bouncing as his trousers hung open. The dryness of the carnal thirst clutched at the back of his throat with desperation.

He leant and pulled loose the ribbon which secured her drawers, then she began sliding them off her hips. He gripped the wet cotton covering her thighs and pulled it away, taking her drawers off her legs as she raised them to allow it, and stripped them off over her short boots.

When he looked at her, a breath left her lips.

She was perfect. The dark-blue velvet of her skirt was bunched up about her waist, and the contrast between her golden curls and her pale legs was beautiful.

The back of his fingers ran up her inner thigh as he remained kneeling before her, stripped to the waist, with his trousers loose and his flesh exposed. He touched her between her legs, exploring with the tips of his fingers.

She closed her eyes.

He dipped his fingertips within her; she was hot and moist. He slid two fingers deeper within, and she sighed, her mouth opening. It remained open as he withdrew his fingers, then pushed them in once more in a gentle stroke.

“What happens when I visit here again?” he said, as his fingers moved within her and his body longed for what might come next “When I visit John or Mary? How will we be with one another after this?”

Her eyes opened. They still begged him. “We will be friends. But I do not wish to think of it now. I have no expectation beyond this. I am not asking you to stay. I know you cannot. I do not even expect loyalty. I know you have a life to live. I just want this, Rob. I have missed it since my marriage ended, and I care for you, and I want to experience this with you.”

Cared for
… He cared for her too. But care was not the hard, elemental feeling gripping in his gut. That was lust. Hs fingers played with her. “I cannot make promises—” This did not feel honourable, and yet she was offering herself and he had sentimental feelings too, something had fermented like yeast between them in the summer and now it was intoxicating.

“I am not asking for promises.”

His fingers slid out of her and he watched the movement, then slid his fingers back within her warmth.

“This is what you will do in town. You will have affairs there, before you settle. So why not now, with me?”

She was still trying to persuade him, but he no longer needed to be persuaded.

His fingers worked more steadily as he watched what he did, she closed her eyes and arched upward, her breasts rocking. Then she bowed back and pushed her hips up towards his intrusion.

Weeks ago he’d hoped to see her laugh and wished to see her dance, he had seen how happy she was then, and now this… This was in a league beyond happiness; this was ecstasy.

He leant and kissed her between the legs, he’d never imagined a woman could look so pretty and delicate there. His hands held her thighs. They were made of the softest flesh, but the flesh between her legs was silk and velvet.

Her fingers could not reach him. Instead she touched herself, her fingertips playing around his tongue. He kissed one of her fingers, then kissed her flesh, then sucked her fingertip when she offered it to him to taste.

Chapter 15

She’d begged outrageously, as though she had no pride. She did not even know herself, she was behaving so badly. But she’d watched him all day, longing to feel like this. She’d missed this and she wished to make a memory with Rob.

The look in his eyes confused her as he lifted up, then came down over her. His eyes dark.

He kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth then withdrawing. Then his lips brushed over hers while his fingers stroked between her legs and slid inside her. She reached down and clasped him, as she’d done before, a feeling of satisfaction and longing racing in her blood; her body recalled all the sensations of lying with a man.

He kissed the edge of her lips, her cheek and then her neck. “You’re beautiful,” he said against her skin.

He had no need to say it. She knew he thought it. His touch and his eyes had said it a dozen times.

This felt as it had with Albert in the beginning. Rob’s physical expression spoke of utter adoration. Yet it was different, because Rob’s touch was so tender and gentle. Albert had never been gentle.

A storm gathered in her blood—and she could enjoy this without guilt because Rob was a good man. She had no need to berate her body. He was beautiful inside as well as outwardly. She had no need to feel shame because she was failing in her marriage, or fear that she might fail again and displease… This was only about this physical moment of escape to ecstasy.

She pressed the heels of her boots into the lumpy mattress and thrust up against his invasion as her fingers gripped him more firmly and licked her dry lips.

He gently bit the skin covering her shoulder as she tilted back her head, arching against him. Warmth and longing… spiralled through her, to the place where his fingers stroked her.

Albert had taught her what men liked. She knew how to please Rob and she knew how to please herself. She let go of him and felt where his fingers invaded, gathering her moisture and then her fingers spread it over his tip. Rob shuddered as a groan escaped his throat.

What happens when I come here again?

It would probably be nothing. He would find another woman, and any affection he held for her would wither, as Albert’s affection had. She was cherishing this moment. She would probably never lie with a man again, and any fear of future embarrassment would not hold her back.

Each time this endearing young man came here she would have this moment to remember.

She focused on every sensation he engendered, pressing her heels into the mattress and pushing up against the invasion of his fingers. She had longed for this for years. Her bed had been the loneliest place since her marriage had ended.

~

Rob’s mind was a fog of dense emotions and his blood ran heavily in his veins. It thickened like the air before the storm.

He appreciated every essence of Caro, the salty taste of her skin, the moist silk between her thighs, the sound of her whimpers of pleasure, and the scent of her heated skin. It was not only lust that led him on, there were other emotions warring in his chest—respect, admiration and love, perhaps.

But love was a foolish thing to feel; this could be nothing.
You will have affairs there, before you settle. So why not now, with me?
He had never thought about setting up an intrigue with a woman—it would be immoral and damage his political aims.

This was immoral and would damage his political aims if it were ever discovered… Perhaps lust had made him insane, and yet he did not try to stop.

The muscle in her thighs shivered and the brush of her fingers egged him on as she touched herself, gathering more moisture to share with him. He knelt up, pulling away so she could not reach to touch him. He did not wish his end to be in her hand.

She smiled, then shut her eyes, and touched herself.

He amended his rhythm to match hers, watching her fingers, and watching his own enter her vivid pink flesh, pushing in, then pulling out.

Her body jolted when his fingers reached their full extent inside her, and her mouth opened, releasing a breathy sound of gratitude. His fingers withdrew then slid back, seeking the spot that had made her gasp.

She clasped his wrist as a sharp sound escaped her throat, and then her body pulsed about his fingers as the heat inside her broke into fluid. She bit her lip and her back arched, her head pressing into the mattress.

His fingers slid out of her, then ran along her inner thigh until they reached her stocking top, leaving a trail of her moisture.

He gripped the mattress beside her hips and leant to lick the trail of moisture from her thigh, then moved his hands, walking them up the bed either side of her until they pressed into the uneven straw in the mattress beside her shoulders.

The air between them was as humid as it had been before the storm.

She opened her eyes. His gaze held hers.

“Come into me.”

He’d intended to, he was simply savouring the moment. Her damp skirt was bunched at her middle, and her chemise parted, open at her breasts, and she still wore her stockings and boots.

Will she think me gauche?

His heartbeat echoed in his head and his groin.

Caro had truly been a phantom when he’d come to Drew’s; she had only shown people a shadow of herself. This strong, vibrant, passionate woman was the one who’d been hiding within her glass walls.

The mattress dented as the heels of her boots pressed down and her pelvis lifted, urging him to continue. Her hands gripped his shoulders.

God, he would never be able to come to John’s and ride out and not think of this. He looked down and rested himself against her silk-soft skin, ready to press in, then looked up. “Caro.”

Her eyes opened.

“I will apologise now.” But saying that was not enough, this was not a kiss. “There will be no going back from this, if you regret, will you forgive—”