When His Kiss Is Wicked (16 page)

Tenderly he kissed her cheek and wrapped one arm around her waist to calm her. Waiting nervously for she knew not what, she gazed back at him. Then the hand at her waist began to move. Lazily he stroked the flat length of her quivering stomach, with gentle, easy motions. His fingers worked a sensuous path across the curve of her hip, down her thigh to her knee, and back up, across her stomach and down the other leg. Warm, soothing caresses continued, up and down, back and forth, down and up, veering ever nearer to the present center of her being. Unable to move, to think, to speak, and barely able to draw a breath, she was weak with anticipation. All feeling, every nerve in her body, focused on the growing all-encompassing need within her. Closer and closer, he teasingly massaged her skin. Oh God, this,
this,
was unimaginable, unbearable, unstoppable. Never had she dreamed
this…
When Lucien’s fingers finally touched the soft curls between her thighs, and with infinite tenderness, delved within the slick, aching folds, Colette practically flew out of her skin. One intent finger sank into the depths of her, the core of her, and she thought she would shatter into a million pieces right there on the bed.

“More?” he breathed in her ear, his voice raspy and low.

Unable to speak, a faint little sigh escaping her, she nodded in assent to make sure he knew she was definitely agreeable to more. With his face close to hers, his mouth sought her lips in a heated kiss while he pressed another finger deep within her. Enflamed by the exquisite pleasure of Lucien touching her that way, her body burned. She clung to him frantically, for he was the only solid thing in her spinning world. He
was
her world. The all-encompassing, all-consuming need that racked her body could only be assuaged by Lucien. She needed him. All of him. More of him.

“Please, please…” she whimpered softly as his fingers moved within her, making every bone in her body melt.

With his kisses hot on her fevered cheek, he continued to stroke her. The sensations created by his fingers within her caused her hips to move in unison with him. An intense longing built within her, and she pressed herself against his hand, searching for a release. On and on it went, until she thought she would go mad from it all. Time lost all meaning. All that mattered was his mouth on hers, his naked body beside her, and his exquisite fingers. Just when it seemed she could not endure another moment of waiting, a sudden intense burst of pleasure spread through her with such fervor that she cried out for him.

Lucien held her close to his chest then, cradling her in his arms, kissing her hair, soothing her as she regained her senses. She breathed him in as she lay in his arms, wondering at her own body. No one had ever explained
that
to her. Then again, how could they? What had just happened between them defied words. It had been heavenly. Yet strangely enough, that exquisite release had left her still wanting more.

Her mouth sought his and he responded to her overture with an eagerness that excited her. Their lips clung to each other ravenously. In a sudden and swift motion, he rose above her, separating her legs with his knee. Colette thrilled at the inevitability of what would come next, the anticipation almost too much to bear. He pressed himself against her, and her breath came in shallow pants. Waiting. Wanting. Wishing.

“Colette?” he asked in an anguished voice, his green eyes heavy with desire for her.

Looking up at this man poised above her, his handsome face looking intently at her, his voice saying her name, his breath mingling with hers, the broad expanse of his chest touching the tips of her breasts, and his legs interlocked with hers, there was only one reply she could give. Fear, shame, shyness, and regrets were feelings for another time. Right now, right here, with this man, she wanted this. She wanted him. All of him.

“Yes.” The word escaped her mouth in a hiss, and she pulled him to her, pushing her body toward him at the same time.

A throaty groan tore from his mouth and he plunged into her with a quick and sure motion.

Colette cried out, not so much from the pain but from the surprise. The surprise of how he felt inside her, of the physicality of being so close to a man. This man.

Lucien stilled at her cry, sheathed within her.

Not wanting him to stop, instinctively she thrust her hips against him. That was all it took before he continued this dance. Slowly and gently he moved within her, rocking her in a steady motion. The sensation took her breath away and began to build in intensity. She wrapped her arms around him, gripping him tightly, knowing he was taking her into the unknown, but she felt safe going with him. As his thrusts grew more urgent, deeper, more forceful, she welcomed them with a fervor that matched his.

Once again she sought the blossoming sensation of pleasure that grew insatiably within her body. Her movements mirrored his, arching her back and meeting him thrust for thrust. Her mind lost all sense when he placed his hand between them, right where their bodies were joined. He touched her expertly, and the ache that had built to a fevered pitch finally exploded in a burst of pleasure so exquisite, so blissful, and so enrapturing it felt as if a million little sparkling stars fluttered around her. As she called his name, he called hers, and continued to drive into her.

Over and over again.

Reeling from the assault on her senses and overwhelmed by the tremendous emotions that flooded her, Colette felt molten tears spill down her cheeks.

She loved him. The complete sense of peace and rightness and belonging enveloped her being. She belonged to Lucien. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this feeling with Lucien. Nothing she had read in books compared to the intense emotions that surged within her heart for this man.

Lucien’s movements became more frantic and a fine coating of sweat covered him as he labored over her. She kissed his face, his neck, clinging to him, urging him, tears flowing from her eyes.

“God, Colette,” he exclaimed in a growl as he gave one final, deep thrust, before he shuddered and collapsed above her. They both panted and gasped for breath for some time, their arms and legs wrapped around each other.

The room was now in complete darkness and hushed in quiet. Lucien finally lifted his head and moved off her, kissing her cheek tenderly as he did so. He pulled her into the crook of his arm, pressing kisses in her hair.

“Are you crying?” he asked, his voice soft and remorseful. He touched a gentle finger to her cheek, following the path of tears.

“No.” She sniffled a little and gave a nervous laugh, wiping at her tears with her hands. “I’m fine.”

“You
are
crying, Colette.”

“But not because I’m sad or hurt,” she explained hurriedly. “I’m just crying because…I don’t know. I suppose because it was just so beautiful and I never knew anything could be so special.”

“Ah, Colette.”

She shrugged, feeling awkward and suddenly shy with him, as if she had angered him somehow. “I’m sorry I cried.”

He rested his head on the pillow beside her, taking her hand in his and placing it on his chest. “You have no reason to be sorry. I am the one who should apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” Her heart resumed its frantic pounding pace.
Oh God, he regrets being with me already.
Mortification and an alarming sense of humiliation overwhelmed her being.

“Apologize for what?” he echoed her question in disbelief, frowning. “For what just happened here between us.”

After a sickening pause, she managed to ask, “Are you sorry it happened?”

He paused for a thoughtful minute. And another. She waited, holding her breath, her heart in her mouth.

Finally he muttered, “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said in a small voice.

He said nothing else. An uncomfortable silence settled over them.
What happens now?
Suddenly she did not know how to act with him. He did not seem like the same Lucien who had kissed her senseless and just made love to her. A distant, cold stranger had taken his place.

“I should go,” she murmured, with the forlorn thought that she wished she were already at home in bed with him right here. How heavenly to be able to curl up next to him in this very bed and sleep with his strong arms about her all night long. A dream that would never come true either.

At her words he did not let go of her, but neither did he encourage her to stay. “Colette?” Her name sounded like a cry of pain.

She waited for him to continue, wishing she could see his face in the darkness.
Oh, Lucien,
her heart cried, heavy with raw emotion. Was he angry with her? Sad? Regretful? The room seemed too silent, too full of shadows.

“Colette…” he began again, his voice tinged with bitter remorse. “You deserve so much better from me. I shouldn’t have let this happen. It was wrong and I knew it when I kissed you the first time. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you—”

“Stop,” she interrupted him as stinging tears threatened anew. Sitting up, she clamped her hand over his mouth. She could not bear to have the most incredible and beautiful experience of her life with the man she loved reduced to nothing more than a mere lack of willpower on his part. How could he not feel the way she did about it?

“Don’t say any more and listen to me. You did not take advantage of me, Lucien Sinclair. When I said I wanted to stay, I meant it. I wanted this as much as you did, if not more. So please don’t be sorry, because you did not make me do anything I didn’t wish to do. I don’t regret it, not one minute of it. It was heavenly. The most thrilling, and most wonderful, and most amazing, and…and…I…I need to go home.” The last words were uttered on a sob as she pulled away from his embrace and rose from the bed as quickly as she could.

“Colette,” he called after her as she fumbled in the dark to find her clothes.

I will not cry again
, she instructed herself, taking a deep breath as she found a bundle of her clothes on the floor.
I will not cry.
Feeling for her chemise, she flung it over her head hurriedly. She had to leave before the tears began. And this time the tears
would
be because she was sad and hurt.

Lucien had followed her off the bed and lit a lamp on the bedside table. The dim light cast a yellow glow in the room. He pulled on his trousers and Colette turned her back to him and continued dressing as fast as she could, thankful once again that she did not wear a corset regularly, for it would only have slowed her down. Still, she needed him to fasten the back of her dress.

He came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his chest. “Wait,” he whispered in her ear.

At his touch she almost melted in his arms, dangerously close to crying in great, wrenching sobs.

“Listen to me.” He spun her around gently, so she faced him. His green eyes bored into her as he spoke. “I did not mean that I was sorry I made love to you. This was different for me, too. That’s because it was with
you
.” He paused and placed an emphatic kiss upon her lips. Pulling back, he looked at her meaningfully. “But you have to understand the great mess we’ve just created.”

Her head swam with what he said.
He felt something, too.
“What do we do now?” she asked, her heart racing.

“What do we do now?” He blinked. “I don’t know yet.”

He doesn’t know!
The man who always had an answer for everything suddenly had no answers when it came to her. Her tears dissolved instantly. Irritated with him, she demanded, “Well, what do you usually do?”

“What do I usually do?” he echoed her in confusion.

“Yes, you’re the one with the reputation. What do you usually do in these situations?” she questioned him harshly, and then added, “And stop repeating everything I say.”

He loosened his hold on her, and she took a few steps away from him. She bent to retrieve her shoes. Angrily shoving her foot into her low-heeled slippers, she snapped, “Well?”

“In spite of your lurid imagination, I am not usually in ‘these’ situations. In fact, I have never been in a situation like this before.”

“Because now you’re expected to marry me?” She challenged him with her directness.

“Yes,” he admitted quietly, but did not look at her.

“And you won’t?” The stinging behind her eyes returned and she blinked rapidly.

He did not answer her, and in an instant her heart, brimming with tender new emotions, shattered like fine crystal upon a slate floor. She had been a complete and utter fool. He didn’t want her, and he certainly did not love her.

His inability to respond to her question was more than answer enough.

“Where have you been?” Juliette demanded when Colette finally arrived home later that night.

Juliette had been given the responsibility of closing the bookshop, not a task that that she relished with great joy. When Colette had gone out earlier that afternoon to deliver books, Juliette had counted on her returning right away. Instead Colette had been gone far longer than necessary and then sent the surprising message that she would not be home for supper at all, which irritated Juliette even further.

The night had grown late. Their mother had retired for the evening, complaining of her usual headache. Lisette, Paulette, and Yvette were already in the room the three of them shared, but Juliette had waited up for Colette. Now she followed Colette into their bedroom, wanting some answers as to why her sister had been gone so long and why she looked so oddly disheveled.

“You received my message, didn’t you?” Colette asked, carelessly tossing her bonnet and shawl on the chintz-covered chair in the corner.

Juliette’s eyes narrowed. Her very meticulous sister never threw her belongings. She always hung everything neatly in the wardrobe, taking great care of her possessions, especially with their new clothes their uncle had purchased. Juliette continued suspiciously, “Yes, but that does not answer my question.”

“You knew I was at Lord Waverly’s house. He just escorted me home in his carriage.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you are so late coming from his house. Or why you left to deliver a few books and returned over six hours later.”

“How did you fare in the shop tonight?” Colette changed the subject.

“Fine. We had quite a few customers, and two more ladies signed up for the reading circle. Everything is taken care of and properly locked up for the night.”

“I know,” Colette admitted. “I checked before I came upstairs.”

“I never doubted you wouldn’t.” Juliette flopped down on her quilt-covered bed and curled her legs under her lawn nightgown. Colette never trusted her alone in the shop for long, and she wondered why she had done so this evening.

With a weary sigh, Colette sat on her own little bed across from Juliette’s and removed her shoes, kicking them across the room. “How are Mother and the girls?”

Juliette noted her sister’s actions with a growing sense of unease, but answered calmly. “They are fine. We had stew for supper. Lisette still had nothing to wear to go to the dance with Henry, but I gave her that pink gown of mine. You know that new one with the little puff sleeves? It never suited me anyway. Paulette annoyed me all evening long. Yvette is getting a cold. And Mother is suffering from her usual headache. There. That’s all there is to tell. Now, stop evading and tell me what you’ve been up to this afternoon.”

Ignoring her sister’s demands, Colette asked, “Did Mother ask where I was?”

Juliette shook her head. “Of course not. Does she ever? She assumed you were working down in the shop all evening.” Noticing Colette’s red-rimmed eyes and haunted expression, she suddenly had a feeling that more had happened at Lord Waverly’s than she suspected. And that something was not good. “Did Lucien kiss you again?”

Colette buried her face in her hands.

Juliette jumped off the bed and flew to her sister’s side. Placing a consoling arm around her, she asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t know if I can talk about it yet,” Colette confided in an anguished whisper.

“Why not?”

“It’s too dreadful, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, then you had definitely better tell me. Honestly, Colette, I can’t imagine you doing anything that’s so bad that you couldn’t tell me about it.”

“I’ve made a terrible, irrevocable mistake.”

“Take a deep breath, and start from the beginning,” Juliette instructed soothingly.

She listened while Colette haltingly began to explain the events that occurred after she delivered the books to Devon House. It all seemed perfectly fine. “So you met his father and dined with them. Agreeing to refurbish his library was a brilliant stroke of business genius. The shop will make a mint of money from his book orders alone! Even I can see the sense in that. So far, I see no problems. Supper is over, you said good-bye to his father, you’re on your way out the door, and what? He kissed you?”

Colette nodded imperceptibly and whispered, “Yes.” Her cheeks flamed scarlet.

“You kissed him before, so that can’t be what you’re upset about. What else happened?”

“We did more than just kiss.” Once again Colette hid her face in her hands after her guilty admission.

Stunned by the news, Juliette pondered what “more” referred to exactly. Over the years she had had her share of fleeting romances with eager boys who fancied themselves in love with her. She had let them kiss her once or twice and she had been unimpressed by them, and therefore had never ventured on to “more” than kissing. Now her imagination raced.

“What
did
you do?” Juliette asked in a hushed tone, fearful their sisters might overhear their conversation. Especially Paulette, who possessed exceptionally keen little ears.

“I cannot even say it,” Colette whimpered, her voice muffled in her hands.

Juliette thought for a moment, her imagination running wild. “All right, then, if you can’t tell me what you did, then at least tell me
where
you did it.”

Colette mumbled something unintelligible through her fingers.

“Say that again?”

“In his bed.”

Her sister’s voice was so soft Juliette thought she had not heard correctly. Surely Colette didn’t mean that! For Juliette knew what those words implied. Years ago she and Colette had hid behind a back shelf in the bookshop and furtively read about human reproduction in one of the large, leather-bound medical texts in the shop.
A Complete Study of the Human Anatomy and All Its Functions by Doctor T. Everett
had explained the act in detail and she and Colette had thought it all quite bizarre and cold, definitely not something one would engage in willingly.

“Oh, Colette,” Juliette whispered. “Are you okay?”

Colette groaned with a sheepish expression.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Juliette advised dryly.

“I feel sick to my stomach.”

Alarmed, she asked her, “Was it that terrible?”

“It’s not like the book at all,” Colette murmured under her breath.

Stunned by that bit of information, Juliette could only wonder, “Is it worse?”

Colette lifted her head, wiping stray tears from her red-rimmed eyes. She sniffled. “No. It was actually wonderful.”

Left speechless, Juliette stared wide-eyed at the implications of this development. “He didn’t…He didn’t force you to do it, did he?”

“No!” Colette responded so vociferously that Juliette was taken aback. “Lucien would never do that.”

She regarded her sister with a sense of wonder, having no frame of reference to guide her. “Well, what happens now?”

Colette’s face clouded with sadness. “That’s what I asked him.”

“And what did he say?”

“He won’t marry me.”

“He said that?” Juliette asked.

“Well, not in those exact words, but that’s what he meant.”

“But, Colette, do you want to marry
him
?” That was the more important question to Juliette’s way of thinking.

“Yes, I suppose,” she sighed. “But it’s pointless. He will never marry me. He wants a traditional wife. He disapproves of my working in a bookshop. I could never give up the shop, and he knows that.”

“You and the shop!” Juliette muttered in scorn. “Sell the shop and marry Lucien. It’s obvious that you’re in love with him.”

Colette’s tears began. “That’s the thing, Julie, I think I am in love with him, but he’s not in love with me.”

“But he should marry you. He’s a gentleman and it’s the right thing to do.” Growing angry, Juliette wanted to throttle Lucien Sinclair. How dare that man take advantage of her sister in such a way and then not have the decency to offer for her!

“He won’t,” Colette sniffled. “He’d rather marry that Faith Bromleigh.”

“He’s afraid of you, Colette!”

Colette shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s it. He’s been with so many other women and I’m simply another one on his list. In any case, I would more than likely not make a good countess or an eventual marchioness. I don’t think he loves me. If he did, none of the other things would matter all that much.”

“Maybe he loves you and just doesn’t know it yet?”

At Colette’s dire look of exasperation, Juliette continued, “Men often have difficulty recognizing their own feelings. Perhaps Lucien is just slow to warm up.”

“After what we just did this evening, I don’t think warming up is his problem.”

Juliette giggled helplessly at her sister’s little innuendo. “What was it like?”

Colette had always been forthright and honest with her. They had shared confidences about everything since the time they could talk. But ever since she met Lucien Sinclair, Juliette had sensed a reticence, a preoccupation, about Colette. She was not her usual self. It was as if Lucien had placed a spell over her, changing her somehow. Falling in love must have something to do with it, Juliette surmised. It seemed that Colette felt her feelings would be tarnished in some way by sharing them with her. Looking at her bright eyes and flushed cheeks, one would think she had a fever. Juliette knew instinctively that she would get no details on the subject of male and female sexual interaction from her.

“I can’t talk about it.” Colette’s voice filled with anguish. “Oh, Juliette, what am I going to do? He doesn’t want to marry me, and who will want to marry me the way I am now?”

“This is a problem.” Juliette nodded sympathetically. “Yet I’m still a little surprised that it’s your problem and not mine, quite frankly.”

Colette laughed a little and gave a halfhearted smile. “Me, too.”

“Well, I think you need to marry someone who may not know the difference or who would not really care that you’ve already been with someone else.”

“There is no such man,” Colette scoffed.

“Yes, there is.”

“Who?”

“Jeffrey Eddington.” Juliette’s words had an instant impact on her sister.

“That’s impossible!” cried Colette. “He would know right away if a woman was experienced or not, because he is so experienced. And a man like Jeffrey, just like any other man, would expect his wife to be a virgin.”

Juliette shook her head. “Not Jeffrey.”

“How would you know such a thing?”

“We talk about a lot of different things.” Juliette truly adored Jeffrey and they had become rather good friends over the last few weeks. It was nice to have a male who was completely candid and honest with her, who spoke his opinion and did not sugarcoat everything for her like other men did. Jeffrey was not in love with her, nor she with him. Most men of her acquaintance panted after her, trying to persuade her to marry them. But not Jeffrey Eddington.

Juliette knew she was beautiful and that men fell in love with her easily, but she had no use for most of the men she met. They bored her. They treated her as if she were made of glass and the slightest upset might shatter her. They didn’t understand her or believe that she had a brain and thoughts and opinions of her own. When she let loose her caustic wit, they did not know how to respond to her and fled. Now she had earned herself a reputation as a heartless flirt.

It was why she appreciated Jeffrey Eddington. He treated her like an equal, while always behaving as if she were a lady.

“You talk about such things with him?” Colette asked, her mouth gaping wide, scandalized at the idea.

Juliette gave her a meaningful glare. “I only
talked
with him about intimate activities between men and women. Unlike you, I have not engaged in those activities.”

At Juliette’s riposte, Colette could say little in her own defense. Deflated, she said, “You are right. Forgive me. I have no room to criticize you after my own behavior. Please tell me what Jeffrey said.”

Feeling justified and somewhat superior to her older sister for the first time, Juliette explained, “He is of the opinion that a woman’s past is her own business.”

“That is surprising.”

“Not once you get to know him better. It must have something to do with his mother and her affair with the Duke of Rathmore. Jeffrey has had an unconventional family life, and that has opened him up to a wider range of thinking. I think you should marry him.”

“
Jeffrey Eddington?”
Colette’s voice almost rose to a screech.

“Yes. I believe he has some tender feelings for you. And he’d be a wonderful husband.”

“Tell me how he would feel knowing I have been intimate with his best friend?”

“Yes,” Juliette acknowledged with a frown, “that might be a little tricky.”

“And you are forgetting that I don’t love him.”

“Love has little to do with anything in many marriages, Colette. You know that as well as I do. And you have precious few options as it is. For all that he is an illegitimate rogue, Jeffrey is young and handsome, in addition to being wealthy, smart, humorous, and kind. You couldn’t do much better than him.”

Colette was silent for a few moments. “Do you really believe he has feelings for me?”

Nodding, Juliette suddenly realized what she had to do to save her sister. She needed Jeffrey’s help, but she was not certain she would get it. Given the right opportunity and timing, this idea could work…