The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection (45 page)

Yes.

She nodded again.

Take me to your bed.

If she were to succeed in convincing her father that she didn’t have to marry her cousin, or anyone else for that matter, she’d soon find herself an ape leader and confirmed spinster. This might be her only chance to experience the pleasures of the marriage bed she’d heard spoken about only in parlor-room whispers. And she couldn’t imagine letting anyone other than Nathan teach her the secrets of passion.

“I need to hear the words, Iona.” There was an edge of panic in his voice. “Tell me what to do.”

“I need you to complete the lesson,” she managed to choke out and then swallowed deeply. “I need you to teach me how to truly live. I’m tired of hiding behind this serene smile and pretending that I’m happy. Take me to your bed.”

With a low growl, he swept her into his arms and carried her across the room. His pace remained steady and determined, not even letting something as bothersome as a door get in his way. He kicked it open and crossed the threshold into the most private of places—his bedchamber.

A sweet and spicy aroma greeted her. She breathed in deeply.

“What is that heavenly scent?” She whispered the question.

“The candles.” Half a dozen candles were scattered throughout the room in ornately jeweled brass and copper holders. Their flames smelled nothing like the tallow candles used in her bedchamber. “I have them imported from China.”

How exotic. It complemented the décor of the room. She’d expected his bedchamber to be plainly furnished, matching the slightly shabby parlor, not a pleasure room more suited for an exotic sultan. Brightly colored silks with elaborate scenes hung on the walls. A crimson silk covered the rather large bed that took center stage in the middle of the room. Dozens of fringed pillows and bolsters spanned across the bed’s headboard.

The silk draping the bed depicted a dark-skinned man kneeling in front of a scantily dressed and equally exotic-looking woman. He was taking the woman’s bared breast into his mouth. The smaller silks hanging on the walls also had exotic men frozen for all time in shocking poses with nearly naked women.

One in particular caught her eye. A young woman, naked from the waist down, was sprawled on her back in a grassy meadow. Her legs were slung over the fully dressed gentleman’s shoulders. And the man’s long, pink tongue—Iona gasped—was licking the tender place between the woman’s thighs. This room was as wicked as…

Her gaze flew to meet Nathan’s determined and lust-clouded blue eyes.

As wicked as Nathan’s reputation. A reputation she’d refused to credit until now. In a state of distress, her mind reeled. What if? What if?

“Why is your room decorated like…like you’re an unrepentant, dangerous rogue?” she demanded to know.

He stopped mid-step and considered the question, his eyes not straying from her body. For the briefest moment, his playful mask slipped and she read regret in those brilliant blue eyes before he gave a negligent shrug.

“This is what society expects of me, isn’t it?”

His reply only caused more confusion. She had a feeling there was a deeper reason behind his playing the part of rogue so completely. And if the persona he presented to society was a lie, she was also beginning to wonder whether everything she knew about him was a lie too.

She was about to press him for answers but he dipped his head and claimed her lips, washing away her straying thoughts and questions. This was Nathan—the Nathan she’d fallen in love with nearly two years ago—not the big bad wolf with a taste for devouring innocent virgins. Although, after seeing that wall hanging, the thought of being devoured by a man was beginning to take on a whole new meaning…

She suddenly felt hot and damp between her legs. Her head was spinning so fast she barely noticed when he dropped her onto his bed.

He climbed on top of her with his legs straddling her. His roaming hands fondled her bound breasts through the layers of clothing while his tongue eased past the barrier of her lips to dip into her mouth. She groaned.

There were too many layers of clothes between them. Her body instinctively ached to feel him against her, flesh against flesh. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed herself against the demanding bulge in his pants. Abandoning all modesty, she rubbed against him, thrilling in the pleasure the friction and heat brought.

He growled in her mouth and pulled away. For a frisson of a heartbeat, she worried that her bold, wicked behavior had shocked him. A blush started to sting her cheeks when he pulled her to the side of the bed.

The feverish heat she saw in his gaze waylaid her embarrassment. He took several quick, shallow breaths while he caressed her between her legs, making her feel anxious and needy. He murmured in a deep voice that vibrated throughout her body how he longed to eat her alive.

“You
are
the big bad wolf,” she breathed.

He frowned. “Does that scare you? Would you prefer a tame spaniel?”

She bit back a cry when he tucked those magical hands of his behind his back. “No!” She shook her head in earnest. “The only thing that scares me is that this night is only a dream and that I’ll wake up before I find out what will happen next.”

His frown eased a little but his cursed hands remained behind his back and much too far away. “I’m suffering from that same worry.” Finally he reached out for her and gently brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen over her brow. “Promise me you won’t disappear.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she vowed and wiggled closer to him.

His playful grin, slightly crooked and heart-wrenchingly adorable, returned. “Part of me wishes I was peeling a frothy dress off these lovely shoulders.” He gently untied her strangling cravat and began unbuttoning her gentleman’s cotton shirt. Starting at the column of her slender throat, he placed a kiss on each inch of skin he revealed as one button after another came undone. “But then again, this feels right. I’m beginning to believe you’ve got the heart of a scamp. It’s only natural you should come to me dressed as one.”

The heart of a scamp
. She liked how that sounded. She was about to tell him so when he cupped her cheeks in his palms and tilted her face up toward him. His thumb traced the arch of her cheek, an altogether surprisingly pleasant experience.

“My beautiful, daring scamp. Tonight has trimmed years off my life but I’d repeat it all again if it meant I’d end up here…with you.” He spoke softly. “Like this.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “There is no other place I’d want to be and no other man I’d want to be with.”

He twined his fingers in her golden hair, pulling away the pins, and gently, oh so gently, stroked her. Iona could barely catch her breath. She wanted him to do more. She wanted to feel more of what he was making her feel. But she didn’t know what to do.

“You’re trembling.” He moved closer. His breath feathered against her cheek. This closeness thrilled her. “Are you frightened?”

“No,” she breathed. “Not at all.”

His lips covered hers. The kiss was gentle at first but, as she melted into his embrace, he became more demanding. He pressed her chin with his thumb to open her mouth to him. His tongue plunged, filling her, igniting sensations that had never existed for her before.

He held her fast against his taut body. Each new sensation led to another more intense one. His hands caressed the length of her spine, urging her closer. Her breasts crushed against his chest and became rigid under the pressure. Her nipples tingled, demanding more. She rubbed the swollen tips against his body, sending urgent tremors coursing through her veins.

He lifted her from the bed and lowered her onto his lap so that she straddled his legs. His long, hard member pressed against her. He was hot there. His heat easily spread through her breeches and to her belly. A sudden moisture and a sweet burning surged between her legs where he was pressed hard against her.

He groaned and with a smooth motion pulled her cotton shirt over her head and discarded it on the hard floor.

“Oh, we can’t have this,” he said. The wicked spark in his eyes zinged through her. He glared at her tightly bound breasts. “We can’t have this at all.”

He reached down to his boot and withdrew a knife that looked as menacing as the card shark’s back at the club. With one careful cut, the cotton batting fell away and her breasts were bared for him to see.

And touch.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

He gently caressed her. At first she felt awkward. He had the look of a man who was gazing at a truly magnificent sculpture.

And taste.

Much to her surprise, his mouth closed over her breasts, his tongue teasing her nipples, each one in turn, until they became hard and sensitive. And then he sucked. Hard. Demanding.

She felt him all the way through her body. Her heart drummed, vibrating everywhere, especially between her legs. A wet heat burned there and she wondered what would come next. She wiggled against him, becoming more and more enamored with that interesting bulge in his pants.

Not one to sit idly by and let someone else do all the work, she drew a deep breath and stroked his chest.

“Please.” She threw back her head and groaned when he nipped her breast. She rocked against him, rubbing herself along his length, no longer convinced that she’d be able to survive this sweet torture. She twisted her hips, pressing herself against his breeches.

He seemed as frustrated and needy as she. In a flurry of movement, she was naked and she had managed to peel Nathan’s shirt off. The hair on his chest was golden, tapering into his pants. She pressed her face to his warm chest and breathed in his heady scent.

He tossed her onto the red silk sheets and followed with his own body, kissing and caressing every silky inch of her. His touch was demanding but gentle. And even as he discovered places on her she had never known existed, the sensations building inside her felt oddly familiar and comfortable.

There must be more, she could tell that there was more. She bucked against him and bit his earlobe, as her frustrations grew nearly unbearable.

“Shhh.” His voice was smooth against her throat.

He drew her legs up, bending them at the knees, spreading them wide. She tensed. She wanted him to join her in her nakedness.

She tugged on his breeches, ripping the top button off when she couldn’t seem to figure out how to get him out of his elaborate contraption.

He stilled her fingers. “Easy, love. I’ll gladly strip for you.”

She’d never seen a naked man before. And he was very different from her, large and hard and jutting out. She nearly swooned when she suddenly understood what it was all about.

“Would you like to touch me?” he asked. His voice quivered.

She nodded and reached out. On the surface, he was soft and warm, much like his sunny disposition. But under the smooth skin, his member was hard, unbending. His breath caught in his throat when she first touched him there. Pleased by the reaction, she stroked harder.

“Please, Iona, I’m not made of stone,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice strained.

He could have fooled her, he was hard like stone, though not at all cold like marble. A beautiful statue to be stroked.

And loved.

“Do you understand how this all works?” he asked, peeling her fingers off him. Before she could answer he knelt between her legs.

“W-what—” she started.

He lowered his mouth to her soft flesh.

“Relax.” His voice was hot and moist against the soft hair between her thighs. “Let me teach you.”

“Oh,” she breathed her surprise when his tongue touched her.

“Oh,” she repeated as his warm tongue caressed her again. He showed no sign of pulling back. The intimate pressure of his lips and hot tongue against her most tender place made her eyes roll back into her head. She felt outside of her body as if she was nothing more than a feeling, a building force of excitement.

“I’m going to put myself here,” he said and stroked her with his tongue again. And then his caressing fingers touched her there—in that most private of places—a place she’d yearned for him to touch.

“And I’ll enter you.” She felt one finger push against her tender folds and then another, easing into her. She felt tight, like she was being stretched to accept him. But he was gentle. Her legs fell open as she relaxed. She gave a short gasp of pleasure when his fingers became bolder, pushing into her, filling her. Pumping her.

“Make love to you.”

Her hips rocked with the rhythm he set. Her eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed completely into his arms. His touch was warm as it filled her. She pressed against him, guiding him deeper as her urgency grew.

“Mark you as mine.”

And then reality intensified. She dug her fingers into his strong arms as her body tensed, being pulled apart. She was dying, there had to be no other explanation.

She had long ceased to breathe.

She cried out when a beautiful release came. Sparks of energy exploded throughout her body. Surely she had died.

He continued rocking her, cooing softly. He tenderly kissed her eyelids, her forehead, her nose, her chin and her lips. He held her tightly against his chest absorbing lingering tremors coursing through her.

“Thank you,” he breathed on a ragged breath and shifted above her. She felt the wide tip of his member press against her still trembling flesh.

He rubbed himself against her wetness until he slid easily against her. Slowly he pushed into her.

Inch by inch, she took more and more of him. He filled her and pushed deeper. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he looked very serious about what he was doing.

She stilled, her gaze latched onto his steely eyes. They were a steady comfort.

“Iona, this will hurt but for a moment.” He took her hands into his and thrust hard. The pain surprised her. She cried out.

He gently kissed away her tears, apologizing with every breath. He didn’t understand that her tears weren’t from the pain, or even regret. They were born from a deep relief that swept through her. With her innocence gone, she was free. No man would want to marry her.