Adrienne Basso (7 page)

He sensed her face moving closer to his. Their breath mingled and then her lips fused with his. He welcomed her with his lips and tongue, teasing and tempting her desire.

She moved her body, wriggling excitedly in his lap. Gareth smiled and deepened the contact. Of their own accord, his hands began to explore the unknown territory of her body. Time slowed as his questing fingers roamed.

He soon discovered she was wearing a nightgown. A silky, sensual garment that hid none of her charms, for she was deliciously naked beneath it. As his fingers stroked, he almost could not tell where the garment ended and her flesh began, for it was the softest skin he had ever touched, smooth and fine as the material.

It was only when he felt the warm heat beneath his fingers did he realize he was brushing her bare skin. Excitedly he ran his hands along her collarbone, then lower, lower, until he found what he sought. A plump, round breast. He cupped it lovingly, fingers caressing the sweet roundness. Her nipples puckered tightly as her gasp shivered through the room.

“Stop.”

She reached out and held his arm. He frowned in puzzlement. “Do you not enjoy my touch, fair lady?”

“ ’Tis I who wish to pleasure you, my lord,” she declared huskily. “Lie back and allow me my fun.”

She shoved him, none too gently, and he fell against the mattress. She sidled up beside him, pressing herself wantonly against his chest, stomach, and upper thighs. The tip of her tongue laved a sensitive spot behind his earlobe as her questing fingers worked steadily on loosening his garments.

She managed to untie the cravat and pull it free.

“Arch your back,” she whispered throatily.

He obeyed her command and she easily stripped off his coat, waistcoat, and shirt. Her fingers next busied themselves with the buttons of his trousers. This time he did not wait to be instructed, but lifted his hips off the bed so she could peel the breeches from him.

Gareth gave an audible sigh of relief as his aroused cock sprang free. He imagined her staring at him, enjoying the sight of his erection. It made him feel wickedly powerful. He reached down and stroked himself, smiling when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

The mattress shifted and he realized she now knelt beside him. She caught his hand, as he intended, and moved it to her shoulder. Her head lowered and she wetly kissed his chest, his throat, his chin.

Gareth’s nose detected the faint scent of roses. He opened his lips and slipped his tongue out, capturing his partner’s mouth in an ardent kiss. She responded willingly, returning the pressure with equal measure, arching her body as his hand caressed the length of her spine.

He touched her gently, tracing the contours of her form with deft precision, feeling each curve, creating the picture in his mind that his hand revealed. A brief smile lit the viscount’s face and a flash of immense satisfaction invaded. The mystery had been solved. It was not Emma Fairweather he held in his arms, but Amelia.

Amelia swung her leg across Gareth’s body, straddling his middle. Her heart was beating so fast and so loudly it almost hurt her ears, but she ignored her feelings of fright and concentrated instead on the desire and passion coursing through her entire being.

She had panicked utterly when the door to the viscount’s room had opened and he walked inside. Fumbling, she had blown out the lone lit candle and hid behind the window curtains, uncertain of what she would do. Initially she had hoped he had returned to his bedchamber because he needed or had forgotten something. He would find whatever it was he sought and then leave.

But the viscount had bellowed for his servant, stumbled, cursed, and fallen to the bed. It was at that moment that a rush of pure madness seized Amelia and she acted upon it. The blindfold was an inspired choice. Though she desired him greatly, she felt too shy, too uncertain to play the wanton a man of his experience would crave.

But the anonymity of the blindfold gave her a sensual advantage. It let her take control, be in charge. Something that had rarely happened in her life and had never occurred in the bedchamber with a man. It freed her spirit, freed her soul.

She tilted her head and brought their faces together. The scrap of linen that surrounded his eyes did not in any way diminish the handsomeness of his face, the raw male beauty that was him. She blew softly against his cheek, then favored him with a deep kiss, her tongue playing intimately, eagerly with his.

The entire surface of Amelia’s skin felt flush and damp. She was aware of the ache that was building in her loins, intensifying each time Gareth’s fingers and lips caressed her. Her body strained toward him as her senses were kindled to a new awareness of physical pleasure. She wanted to lure and possess this man who had come to mean so much to her.

Her hand slipped between his thighs. She ran her fingers up and down the shaft of his sex, brushing the silken skin that was stretched so taut. His hips bucked upward.

“Temptress,” he growled.

She laughed with powerful delight. He made her feel as no other man had ever done. Powerful, strong, desirable. Amelia squinted in the darkness. The streak of moonlight that invaded the chamber illuminated the subtle details of his form. She took her time admiring him. The strong muscles of his chest and forearms were shaded by dark hair that felt wonderfully crisp beneath her searching palms.

His shoulders were broad, his chest wide, his waist and hips narrow. His legs were long. Both his thighs and calves had swells of muscles. The trail of dark hair that began at his navel ended in a nest of curls where his fully aroused penis jutted forward. That gloriously aroused body sent her senses spinning.

She returned her hand to his sex, running her fingers around and over the head, sensually rubbing the glistening drop of moisture that appeared back into his hot flesh. Tempted beyond bearing, she moved her head lower. He was beautiful. She had never seen her husband naked, a circumstance for which she was profoundly grateful.

But the sight of Gareth’s bare flesh brought forth the notion of pleasure that was too tempting to resist. Perfection such as this should be worshiped, revered. Amelia’s lips descended.

“Mother of God!”

His growl startled her. Amelia’s head jerked up.

“Did I hurt you? Have I done it wrong?”

“Not hurt. Surprised. Delighted.” Gareth licked his lips and fought for self-control as he felt her face rest once again against his lower belly. “Use your teeth gently, love. Ahh, like that. Now the tip of your tongue.” He groaned louder, the pleasure searing through every inch of his body as she eagerly followed his instructions.

Beneath the blindfold Gareth’s eyes closed tightly. He knew this was her fantasy, respected this was her unique way to express her feelings and desire for him. But his self-control was being pushed beyond its endurance.

He sunk his hips low into the mattress as her hands continued to stroke and knead between his thighs, as the wet warmth of her mouth fully engulfed him.

Suddenly his self-control snapped. He reached for her shoulders, grasping the top of her nightgown. With a single pull he ripped it from her body. The action startled her, moving her mouth away from him. Taking advantage of her momentary disorientation Gareth flipped her over onto her back and flung her into the middle of the bed.

He heaved himself forward, landing precisely where he wished. Her naked breast rose and fell against his chest, her body lay trembling beneath him. “Hush,” he whispered. “I will allow you control again soon. But if I do not taste you, love, I shall go mad.”

The blindfold, still intact, did not heed his mission. He caught her wrists, then stretched them tautly above her head, anchoring them securely with one hand. She moved her legs restlessly and he realized she felt his erection rigid against her thigh. He released her wrists and shifted his weight, then felt her fingers caress his shoulders, digging tightly into the muscles of his forearms.

“No,” he rasped. “Keep your hands high above your head. As if you were tied to the bedpost.”

Gareth sensed her hesitation. Then felt her compliance as her body arched forward, awaiting his pleasure. Instinct, desire, and an irresistible primal urge led him to his goal.

His lips trailed slowly down her throat to her breast. He circled, then suckled the nipple. Her body tensed. He waited, then tormented her again with his lips and tongue until she began to squirm and writhe with eager anticipation.

Gareth ran his fingers along the length of her body. Her skin felt hot and dry to the touch. He found her knee, then pushed it gently, parting her thighs. His exploring hand soon found her other leg, and pushed that also.

The musky scent of her arousal enchanted him. With a sensual growl of impatience, Gareth buried his mouth between her legs. He kissed her softly at first, then lightly suckled her swollen flesh. She whimpered as he licked and traced and stroked. Her hips thrashed and surged forward, her cries growing louder, more urgent.

He pressed her knees, keeping her thighs wide, wetting the aching need that he could feel building inside her. A moan escaped her, then she shivered and arched herself against him. He continued to tease the lush opening of her body with the tip of his tongue as she strained and shuddered in ecstasy.

Exhausted, dazed, satiated, Amelia slumped against the pillows. It took several deep breaths to overcome the lethargic state that had overtaken her body. She turned to her side, to study the man who lay beside her.

“Thank you,” she whispered in a thick and husky voice. She hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth, the top of his shoulder.

She rubbed her leg against his thigh and realized his body was still in a state of full arousal, strung tight with tension and unreleased desire. Her emotions were engaged, her curiosity was at its zenith, and the opportunity was too perfect to reject.

Amelia rose to her knees. Balancing her hands on his naked chest she moved her legs until she was sitting astride him.

“Ahh, now this is a far better demonstration of your thanks, love,” he purred.

“I should like to please you, my lord.”

Amelia raised herself higher, moved forward, then slowly, carefully, erotically lowered her body onto his hard, thrusting penis. She sank down, pushing in and out with long easy strokes and felt the tension gripping him increase.

The need to see her face, to look deep into her eyes now bordered on obsession. Hastily Gareth tore the linen from his eyes, but once free of the restraint saw only darkness. The little minx! She had pulled the heavy bed curtains closed, surrounding them in a cocoon of darkness. He could barely see his hand pressed in front of his face, let alone his beautiful, sensual bed partner.

The distraction of darkness however was quickly forgotten as she exhaled slowly, pressing her flanks tighter against his thighs. Gareth gritted his teeth as the slick, sweet heat of her welcoming body surrounded him.

He grasped her hips and stretched his legs out. Experimentally she began pushing in and out with long easy strokes. He soon found her rhythm and matched it, rising to meet her. Each thrust fanned the flame of desire. She was so hot and tight around him.

Her breasts swayed invitingly before him and he took one within his mouth, sucking the nipples savagely. She screamed then and clung to him. He felt her begin to spasm and knew her next climax would soon be reached.

He hoped to last longer, to pleasure her a third time, but it was impossible to hold back. As the wave of tension broke, her body began to contract around him. She shivered and arched her back. Gareth’s own body tightened, the heat burning bright, the sensation climbing to an excruciating height.

He plunged deeper. The depth of pleasure that washed through him was unparalleled. With a shout of pure male triumph he drove in the final thrust of release, straining and shuddering in ecstasy.

The sound of their labored breathing slowly began to ease. He stroked her shoulders, the small of her back, then moved his hands down to her hips. Though completely sated, Gareth found it nearly impossible to stop touching her. This possessive act was an unusual occurrence, but was not everything about this magical evening not unusual?

“I have died.” Her voice was a breathy proclamation.

Gareth smiled. He knew her legs must be cramping from the awkward position she still held, but he was reluctant to disengage himself from the warmth of her body.

Still, it was bad form to make a lady suffer. He gently eased her forward, then withdrew. Lifting her hips, Gareth slid from beneath her.

His hand snaked across her chest, laying a possessive palm across her left breast. “I still feel the beat of your heart, love, so I must insist that you are very much alive.”

She giggled and rolled to face him. Although she could not see his expression in the darkness, she felt that he was smiling back. “I do feel alive, my lord. More than I ever have before. Thanks to you.”

“Modesty prevents me from taking all the credit.” He reached out and pulled her against him. “You have fulfilled some of my wildest and most erotic fantasies this night, my lady.”

“Only some?” Her voice was an erotic whisper that sent a chill racing up his spine. “Then you must fantasize some more and show me your desires.”

Gareth heard her sensual laugh echo through the room just before his mouth closed over hers.

The scent of sated lust hung heavily about them. The window remained open, the humid air trapping the aftermath of their lovemaking within the bedchamber. Amelia slowly opened her eyes. Through the window she could see the gray streaks of early morning sky beginning to disappear. Dawn was fast approaching.

Of their own accord her eyelids closed and she snuggled deeper into the soft bedding. She was so tired. Her muscles ached, though in a pleasant fashion, and the place between her thighs contained an abundant amount of wetness. How strange that—

My God! Amelia’s eyes flew open. She stared for a moment blank-faced at the man whose head rested on the pillow beside hers. There was a faint line of stubble edging his jaw, his dark hair was rumpled, and his brilliant blue eyes were wide open. Staring directly back at her.

If she was not so mortified and embarrassed, Amelia would have admired how remarkably handsome the viscount looked at this ungodly hour of the morning.

“Is something wrong?” A frown formed on his brow. Amelia squelched the most bizarre impulse to press her lips against his forehead and sooth it away.

“I must leave.”

She tried to rise from the bed, but soon discovered his right arm was slung possessively over her lower back. Effectively trapping her.

“ ’Tis early.” The arm tightened, drawing her closer to him. “We have plenty of time, Amelia. No need to make such a frantic rush as we indulge our pleasures. Unless you prefer it that way?”

Though Gareth asked the question, he gave her no time to answer. He adjusted her position, then kissed her lips softly. His hands began a swooping caress of her throat, shoulder, and breast.

Amelia felt the stirring of desire begin, that sensation of need and want that would soon have her mindless with excitement. She fought it.

“Why are you behaving so calmly? Are you not surprised to find me in your bed?” she asked, lowering her face to avoid his gaze.

The hand cupping her breast stilled. He moved it to her face and tipped her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. “I am honored that you chose to sleep here with me.” A twinkling gleam appeared in the depths of his blue eyes. “And proud to say we achieved little sleep last night.”

Amelia felt the color burst into her cheeks. She could not indulge in the memories of last night while he gazed so intently at her. It was mortifying. “That is not what I meant. The blindfold, the darkness—”

Gareth placed two fingers over her lips to silence her. “I knew it was you in my bed last night, Amelia. Almost from the first. And the knowledge thrilled me.”

Her breath caught in surprise. “How? How did you know?”

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Your intoxicating scent.” Kissed her eyelids. “Your sultry voice.” Kissed the corner of her mouth. “The splendid curve of your hip.”

The languid comfort in his tone and in his kisses began to melt away some of her doubts. “I had not thought you so observant of my person.”

“I was always very aware of you, dear countess, especially when you least suspected.” He cast her a mysterious grin. “After last night, I would venture to say I know far more about you than any other man alive.”

Oh, not everything, my lord.
Guilt for the true reason she had come to his bed washed over Amelia. She tried to pull away, but Gareth’s arms locked around her, drawing her closer. “I think I need to remind you of my intimate knowledge of your loveliness. And my deep regard for you.”

He kissed her soundly, then rolled her expertly on her back. Amelia forced herself to hold his gaze. She could feel his erection pressing into her upper thigh.

She knew he desired her. The proof of that was rather obviously poking at her. And while it might be considered foolish to trust and believe such a handsome rogue, Amelia admitted his words touched her heart, allowing her to face the fact that she, too, cared for him, perhaps even loved him a little.

Her conscience however demanded that she make some attempt at honesty. “I should return to my bedchamber before anyone sees me.”

“The duke’s servants are well trained and discreet. They will turn a blind eye to anything they see.”

He nuzzled her neck, kissed her jaw, then raised his head to stare into her eyes. There was a trace of boyish delight in his handsome face as he spread her legs with his knees, then slid inside her body.

Amelia caught her breath and he stopped. “Have I hurt you?”

“No.” The warm strength of him filled her completely, making a shiver of pure pleasure rush through her blood. “ ’Tis a perfect fit.”

“For the perfect lady.” He raised her hand and kissed it tenderly in a gallant, courtly gesture.

Amelia felt her heart turn over. Emotions swirled and swelled inside her as she twisted and adjusted her hips. She surrendered then completely to the moment, arching her back, pressing herself closer to his heat, his strength, his power.

She understood and accepted that this moment of passion would be their last. It was a bittersweet joining, filled with all the emotions and feelings she knew she could never express in words. It lasted a long time, yet seemed so quick.

As his large body began to shudder with the power of his release, she tightened her arms around his broad back and held him close. Amazingly her own climax broke at the same instant, creating a rare experience of shared pleasure.

It was a fitting end.

When their ragged breathing finally slowed, Gareth’s mouth moved gently over hers. Amelia kissed him back. He eased away and stretched beside her, opening his arms in invitation. Amelia accepted, allowing herself one final moment of bliss.

He caressed her hair, stroked her back and buttocks with slow, lazy circles. Sleep threatened, but Amelia fought it. Gradually the caresses slowed, then ceased. Amelia placed her palm lightly on Gareth’s chest. She could feel the muscles expand as he breathed in a steady rhythm. He was asleep.

She dared not linger any longer. Taking great care to make as little movement as possible, Amelia slipped away from the warm protection of his embrace and slid off the bed. She found her nightgown flung in a corner of the bedchamber. It was cleanly torn down the middle and completely useless.

Amelia tossed it aside and searched for something else to wear. She hastily picked up Gareth’s discarded shirt and pushed her arms through the sleeves. The white linen enveloped her body, but came only to the top of her knees. The few buttons at the top of the garment were missing and it gaped open in a provocative manner.

She removed it and tried his evening coat. That fell below her knees, but there was a wide rent in the sleeve where it attached to the shoulder. Amelia surmised that damage had occurred when she was eagerly yanking the coat off Gareth last night.

She sighed in frustration. Was there not one garment that had not been ripped, torn, or destroyed? She padded barefoot over to the armoire that stood on the far side of the room and opened it gingerly, trying not to make a sound. Inside she discovered a silk robe in a shade of midnight blue. It was far too large, but she wrapped the belt twice around her waist and pulled tightly.

Satisfied it would stay in place, Amelia moved quietly toward the door. On her way she noticed a rumpled strip of white linen thrown on the rug. It was Gareth’s cravat, the one she had used so naughtily as a blindfold.

Without a second thought she scooped it up and shoved it in the pocket of the robe. Then she carefully threw the door latch and eased out of the room. Swift feet carried her to the opposite wing of the large house.

Breathless, Amelia entered her empty bedchamber. She walked soundlessly to the window and threw back the draperies, flooding the room with sunlight.

It was later than she thought. The other guests would soon be stirring and another day of mindless activities would begin. If only—

Amelia gasped as a shocking realization suddenly entered her mind. She had remained unseen by any guest or servant leaving the viscount’s bedchamber and on her long walk back to her own room. She covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly.

It appeared that her quest for scandal had gone unanswered.

 

 

Gareth awoke to an empty bed. The sight gave him a momentary pang of regret, but then the practical side of his nature asserted itself. Amelia was the type of woman who would not want to flaunt this relationship. It was therefore logical that she would leave before any of the duke’s servants or guests saw her.

After careful attention from his valet, the viscount felt ready to face the day. The first person he met upon entering the grand salon was his friend, the Earl of Danbury.

“Lucien, good morning. I have not seen much of you these past few days. I trust you had a good night’s sleep?”

“It was most peaceful. And you?”

“Splendid. But I do confess to being famished. Will you join me for some breakfast?”

“It is after noon,” the earl replied in a wry voice.

“Ahh, so it is. But surely I am not the only one who slept in today? I imagine the duke’s servants have left fresh, hot food in the dining room. Will you take coffee with me?”

“Certainly.” The earl’s lips twitched. He clasped his hands behind his back and followed Gareth into the dining room. It was empty of other guests. “You seem to be taking everything rather well, Longley. I must confess, I am proud of you.”

Gareth, who was in the process of filling a dish with kippers and eggs, glanced up at his friend with a puzzled frown. “For what?”

The earl’s brow’s lifted in amusement. “Showing your face today. Pretending that all is right and well in the world.”

“I have no idea to what you are referring, Lucien.”

“Gossip, Longley. The like of which even my jaded ears has never heard.”

“About me?”

“Most definitely.”

The two men seated themselves at the table. “You know I never listen to gossip, especially when I am the main topic of conversation.”

The earl sipped his coffee. “I know that has been your attitude in the past. Yet when a lady is involved, a lady you appear to care for a great deal, I assumed your feelings would be altered.”

Gareth slowly lowered his fork. His gut twisted and his raging appetite rapidly disappeared. Through the years all sorts of shameful gossip had made the rounds concerning him and his various women. He always emerged unscathed, but occasionally a female partner’s reputation had been brutalized, ripped to shreds by gossiping tongues.

He usually felt a pang of regret, a bit of distress for these hapless females, but had never been moved to do anything about the situation.

Yet the very notion of anyone speaking against Amelia had him ready to draw pistols.

“Exactly what sort of tales are being spread about the countess?” Gareth asked, taking care to keep his face free of expression.

“The countess? Which countess?” The earl speared him with a piercing, perplexed glance. “The lady I am referring to is Mrs. Fairweather.”

“Emma? What mischief has befallen her?”

“You really don’t know?”

The viscount sighed. “Apparently not.”

Lucien grinned widely and the viscount felt a prickle of unease skitter down his spine. “I had honestly felt a twinge of guilt over the matter since it was such good news for me and such devastating news for you. Or so I believed.”

“Are you going to tell what has occurred, Lucien, or will you just continue to torture me?”

“Sorry.” The earl grinned again. “I have won a tidy sum of money, thanks to you.
Mr.
Fairweather arrived late last night and hauled away his errant wife, who apparently left sobbing pitifully while denying all his adulterous accusations.”

Gareth blinked. “So Mr. Fairweather really does exist?”

“Indeed.” The earl cocked his head. “Given your dogged pursuit of Mrs. Fairweather the entire Season, I thought this news would distress you.”

Gareth leaned back in his chair and considered his emotions carefully. “No, Lucien. It does not bother me in the least.” Appetite restored, the viscount picked up his fork and resumed eating his breakfast.

When his meal ended, the two men parted company. Gareth, to search for Amelia, and the earl to search for some of the gentlemen attending the house party who had foolishly wagered against the existence of a husband for Emma Fairweather.

The viscount’s quest brought him out-of-doors to the east side of the manor house. He knew Amelia admired the formal gardens in this section of the estate. Perhaps he would be fortunate enough to find her here alone. If memory served him, Gareth recalled a particularly challenging boxwood maze that could provide some tantalizing privacy, a place to steal a kiss or two or even engage in more sensual delights if Amelia was so inclined.

He followed the path beyond the circular fountain, admiring the flowering plants and roses. For the first time in many years he thought about his estate, the property from which he collected a handsome annual profit, yet never visited. He wondered what sort of gardens were planted on the grounds. And if they were properly maintained.

Turning the corner of a waist-high stone wall, Gareth spotted Amelia in the distance. She stood in the center of what appeared to be a miniature meadow, ablaze with summer blooms. It was an enchanting sight to behold. However the countess was not alone. There was a man with her. A gentleman, by the look of his fashionable clothes.

They appeared to be engaged in earnest conversation yet even at this distance Gareth could see that they were arguing. He quickened his pace.

Amelia turned her head and walked deliberately away from her male companion. He stomped behind her, grasped her arm, and whirled her around to face him. The expression on Amelia’s face revealed her own anger, but she seemed in control of her emotions.