Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two (9 page)

Chapter 19

            "Mary, could you do me a favor and tell His
Grace that I'd like a word?" Mirabelle asked as she reclined in the tub.
She was about to get out but she thought she'd try something. Mirabelle had
heard whispers about Gilles' and Elise's habit of flooding his dressing room,
perhaps she could tempt Lucien. All of her previous attempts at seduction had
failed.

            "Yes, Your Grace!" Mary winked as she
closed the door.

            Mirabelle had tried brushing her breasts against
Lucien's arm while he was at his desk, licking and sucking things suggestively
during meals, posing seductively on the couch in his study, brushing her foot
against his leg as they drank tea... One night she'd managed to climb on top of
him as he stretched. Mirabelle had been able to rub herself against Lucien for
one glorious moment while he shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. She could have
sworn she felt him hard against her bottom as she straddled him before he
rolled her off and turned her away from him so he could settle behind her.
Again, he'd told her she needed rest and that she'd been lovely and perfect.

            After three weeks of marriage, their bedtime
routine remained the same. Lucien led Mirabelle to her side of the bed and
waited for her to lie on her back before he took his position above her. He
kissed her until she was distracted and then readied her with his fingers. Once
he was certain that Mirabelle was properly prepared, Lucien entered her and
steadily slid in and out of her until they achieved their release. Aside from
when he used his fingers to prepare her, Lucien never touched her below the
neck. He never allowed Mirabelle to touch him and he never altered their
position. He said almost nothing; his speech was limited to "Yes!",
"God!", "Let Go!", "Please!" and her name. The
Lucien in her bed was not the silver tongued seducer she had heard countless
stories about. Frustrated didn't begin to describe what she was feeling.

            The incident in the library was the start of a
retreat for Mirabelle. Every confusing, distant, awkward incident of rejection
took a toll. Lucien's lack of interest awoke emotions within her that she had
never learned to cope with. She had always avoided situations that made her
feel unsure and inadequate. To find herself constantly battered by such
feelings in her new home, with Lucien, was bitterly disappointing. Mirabelle
feared that she was losing her closest friend and the only thing she had truly
ever wanted. She felt like she was failing. Nothing she tried so far had
worked.

            There was a gentle tap at the door.

            "Enter." Mirabelle called. The door
opened and Lucien carefully peeked around the door. She could tell that he was
considering shutting it and being on the wrong side. Mentally, she dug in her
feet. She wasn't letting him off that easy.

            "Could you come in, please?" He
hesitated for a moment before finally stepping in and shutting the door behind
him. Mirabelle sat up, letting her breasts rise above the water as she pulled
her knees up and leaned over them.

            "The Season's almost over and we haven't
discussed our plans for the summer." Mirabelle held up the soap.
"Would you do my back, please?" For a moment Lucien stared at her
hand. She was afraid he might refuse until he nodded and reached. She let her fingers
brush his as he took the soap from her. Lucien kneeled next to the tub and
began rubbing the soap against her wet skin. Mirabelle smiled wickedly as she
moaned. She couldn't see his face but his hand stopped. She leaned back
slightly until her face was next to his. Lucien's eyes were squeezed shut.
Mirabelle brushed her lips against his and he groaned. "Would you like to
join me?" She whispered. He shook his head and stood up.

            "I already took a bath and Hugo will have
my hide if he has to prepare new clothes for me tonight." Even he knew
that was a sad excuse. Mirabelle sighed. She thought she'd had him. Not ready
to give up, she pointed to the bucket by the fireplace.

            "Help me rinse?" She smiled as he
turned away. Mirabelle stood and he froze as he heard the water sliding off of
her. When he turned, Lucien's expression was almost pained. She turned her back
to him and suppressed a giggle as she heard him hiss. He poured half the bucket
and Mirabelle turned. She placed her hand on his shoulder as if to steady
herself and swayed forward, her nipples almost brushed his chest. "Sorry.
I wouldn't want to get you wet." She whispered as she arched her back and
leaned away. Lucien's jaw twitched. After he poured the rest of the water, Mirabelle
lifted her hand so he could help her step from the tub. "Could you pass me
a towel?" She extended her arm. His eyes remained fixed on her breasts for
a moment before he shook his head slightly. Lucien handed her a towel and
stepped back.

            "Would you prefer to go to Winthorpe or
Longwood? I'm partial to the two of us having a quiet summer." Mirabelle
dried off her arms and stomach before she turned away from Lucien and bent at
the waist, giving him a full view of her derrière. The only answer she received
was the clicking of the door as it shut and a silent room. Mirabelle stomped
her foot and threw the towel at the door.

            Joss met Mirabelle in the hall when she came
down for dinner. He had a tray with a letter for her.

            "From His Grace."

            "Thank you, Joss." Mirabelle tried to
appear relaxed as she opened the note.

My Love,

  Just received some information and need Alastair's
opinion tonight. I will return within the hour for dinner.

    Love,

            L.

            Mirabelle closed the note and smiled. It could
have been worse, she supposed.

            "Can I get you anything while you wait,
Your Grace?"

            "No, Joss. I'll read in the study until His
Grace returns. Thank you." The butler bowed and retreated.

            The study felt too empty and too quiet without
Lucien. Mirabelle drifted around the room, examining the various items Lucien
had collected. Most were horse related. At the sideboard, Mirabelle poured
herself a scotch and let her gaze fall on Lucien's desk and the large chair
behind it. Smiling, she crossed the room and settled into the seat. She
inhaled, shutting her eyes in delight as the familiar scent wrapped around her.
Lucien.

            Mirabelle began examining the items on the
desktop. Finding nothing of interest, she opened a drawer. A stack of letters
rested on top. As she was shutting the drawer the word "cock" caught
her eye. She felt her eyes grow round. Biting her lip, she carefully lifted the
pile. Mirabelle took a fortifying sip of the scotch and picked up the first
page. Her jaw dropped.

 I dream of your breasts. You have the most luscious
breasts I have ever seen. Your nipples make my cock ache. I could spend hours
teasing them with my lips, tongue and teeth.

I want to squeeze your breasts together as I thrust my
cock between them until I spill my seed all over your chest.

Mirabelle was stunned. It was definitely Lucien's
handwriting... She set the page down and looked at the next.

I want my last breath to be between your thighs. You
taste like ambrosia and the smell of you drives me wild with lust.

If you would let me, I would make love to you with my
mouth for hours. I long to trace every fold and suckle at your tender bud until
you're desperate with need. Then, I would enter you with my tongue, thrusting
with it as my cock would inside of you.

I would seek out every sweet drop of you and greedily
suck the nectar of your release
.

"Oh, my God!" Mirabelle whispered. She set the
page down on top of the last and shakily took another sip before continuing.

I want to fall asleep, my tongue tangled with yours and
dream of your lips.

If you were to lick my ear, I might lose my mind.

When I imagine your lips and tongue exploring my chest
and stomach, I become so hard it hurts.

When I spilled myself inside of you last night, I imagined
your lips around my cock. I pictured you on your knees swallowing my seed.

            She read them all, her hands shaking every time
she picked up another one. When she was done, Mirabelle replaced them and moved
to the sideboard. She refilled her glass, generously, and sat on the couch.
Sipping slowly, letting the warmth of the scotch calm her, Mirabelle considered
the letters.

            They must have been important to Lucien. He kept
them close at hand and almost in plain view. She knew he hadn't strayed; they'd
barely been apart since he proposed. But could one stray in their mind? If so,
Lucien very definitely had. Whoever the letters were written to, he was
enamored with her body.

            Mirabelle gasped and pressed her hand to her
mouth. Is that why he couldn't look at or touch her when they made love? Did
Lucien avoid letting her touch him because he preferred someone else's hands upon
him? Was he thinking of his mystery woman when he spilled himself into her?

            It didn't make sense. Lucien was always so
attentive. She knew he had very strong feelings for her, possibly even loved
her. Could he love Mirabelle in every way except sexually while he lusted so
strongly after another woman? Her instincts told her that Lucien wouldn't have
married her if that was the case.

            She heard the front door open. Joss greeted
Lucien and informed him that Mirabelle was in the study. She heard his quick
stride and looked up as he entered, attempting a relaxed, spontaneous smile.

            "How is my brother?" She thought that
sounded normal.

            Lucien smiled as he went to the sideboard. He
raised a brow as he noticed the glass in her hand.

            "He's well. Asked dozens of questions about
you. I wanted his thoughts on a horse that's going up at Tattersall's tomorrow
but he couldn't be bothered." Lucien sat next to Mirabelle, stretching his
legs and crossing his ankles. He reclined and brushed his knuckle against her
cheek. "You're not mad at me for leaving without telling you first?"

            Was he referring to the dressing room when she
was trying to seduce him or when he left the house to see about a horse? She
shook her head and lifted her glass. 

            "No. I entertained myself." She forced
another smile. Lucien narrowed his eyes.

            "Are you sure? Something's not right."
He gestured towards Mirabelle.

            She almost laughed. Something clearly wasn't
right about her. At least not in the bedroom.

            "I'm fine." She took a long swallow of
her scotch.

            "Mirabelle, you only drink spirits when
you're ill, upset or have had a fright."

            Perhaps it was a little of all three.

            "I was just passing the time and the bottle
was there. I know it's your favorite and I missed you." It was true,
Mirabelle realized. The restrained, awkward man she lived with was not the man
she'd kissed in The Parlor at Spencer Place.

            Lucien smiled lazily and leaned towards her. He
kissed the corner of Mirabelle's mouth. She turned her head and took his face
in her hands. She opened her mouth and sighed as his tongue slid in. Lucien
angled his head and deepened the kiss. Mirabelle's eyes widened in shock. He
rarely allowed more than a quick brushing of lips or a peck on the cheek unless
they were in bed. His eyes were heavy when he lifted his head.

            "How many drinks did you have at Burton Place?"
Mirabelle asked suspiciously.

            "Four." He chuckled as he raised his
glass. "And this makes five. I hope dinner is ready soon." As he said
the words, Joss stepped in and announced that it was in fact ready.

            Mirabelle's mind was a tangle during dinner. One
moment, she was obsessing about the letters and the mystery woman, the next she
was reliving the kiss in the study. She didn't feel like he was thinking of
someone else when he kissed her but how could she tell?

            "You're quiet." Lucien said softly.
Mirabelle looked up at him. His expression was serious. "You've been so
quiet since we married." She smiled wryly.

            "Perhaps you should have married me sooner.
I imagine a great many people would have been grateful." Lucien chuckled
as he reached for her hand.

            "I don't like when you're quiet." He
lifted her hand to his lips.

            Mirabelle felt her heart sink. He was so much
like the man she missed right then. The spirits had relaxed Lucien enough that
he could flirt with her. She was so tempted to tell him everything. How
frustrated she was with his rejection, the letters and how she missed the easy
way they used to talk and tease. But there was too much and Mirabelle didn't
know how to start.

            "My head hurts. I think I'll go up
now." She pushed her chair back and Lucien rose. He looked concerned.

            "Would you prefer I slept in my own bed
tonight?" He asked softly. Mirabelle shook her head. While part of her was
tempted, she knew she'd miss him. And what if the spirits relaxed Lucien enough
that he actually responded to her? She couldn't pass up the chance.

            "No. Come up whenever you're ready."
With that, Mirabelle left.

             When he entered Mirabelle's room, he was no
longer the relaxed, flirting Lucien she'd left in the dining room. He was tense
and didn't attempt to kiss her as they approached the bed. When Mirabelle
reached for the straps of her gown, Lucien's hand stilled her.