Duke of Scandal (23 page)

He briefly closed his eyes to savor the feel of her devotion. Then very slowly he raised his lashes and focused on her carefully as he moved his hand so the back of it pushed against the top of her gown, lowering it inch by inch.

Her intense gaze never strayed. Her breathing quickened as her cheeks flushed with color anew when at last he grasped the neckline of her gown and chemise and pulled them down, first releasing one arm, then the other, until she lay exposed to him, nude to the waist.

He took in every part of her, from her tapered throat to her trim belly, his gaze fixed with hunger on her tight, rosy nipples, the tiny mole at the base of her right breast.

She remained still, watching him, yearning for his touch. Then with great restraint, and only a second's hesitation, he lowered his mouth to one round peak, taking her nipple into his mouth.

She inhaled sharply, quivering, running her fingers through his hair to hold his head steadily against her.

He sucked her delicate flesh with care, flicked his tongue over the tight, hot tip, listening for her reaction, then feeling a sudden rush of his own desire as she whimpered and began to move against him.

He quickened his pace, gliding his tongue across her chest, to explore, to inhale the scent of her skin, to taste and feel and show her how much he needed to bask in her pleasure.

She gasped, moaning in satisfaction, and he gave as she begged with her body, taunting her with every caress, every brush of his tongue, every gentle squeeze of his palm, until her legs became restless beneath her skirts and she began to move her hips.

With her instinctive response for more, he shifted his body slightly so he could at last leave a trail of fine kisses down her stomach, pausing only once to flick his tongue over the tiny mole beneath her breast, stopping only when he reached her navel.

She whimpered, needing more, and finally he grasped the edge of her gown and chemise and started tugging them together over her hips.

Glancing at her face, he noticed her eyes squeezed
shut, the back of one soft hand laying across her mouth as she mentally made herself ready for him to take in the beauty of her nude form.

She lifted her hips to guide him in his efforts as he ever so cautiously pulled at her gown until it gave way over the last restraint and released the most intimate part of her feminine curves for his view.

Sam swallowed harshly to control himself, his breathing and pounding heart.

He'd seen the naked female form many times in his adult life, but nothing in his past compared, or prepared him, for the vision he gazed upon now.

She was nothing short of breathtaking, from her silky, long black hair, to her round, aroused breasts, tapered waist, matted black curls between her legs, that part of her he so desperately wanted to kiss, to tease, to bury himself in, body and mind, never to depart.

He inhaled a deep, shaky breath, desperate to stroke her there, to build the passion within her over and over again. At that defining moment Sam realized he could never leave something so perfect, so precious, to be explored by anyone else.

Suddenly, she seemed to realize he'd paused in his lovemaking, and she instinctively lowered her arm to her breasts in a meager attempt to cover herself. He smiled, filled with an odd sense of serenity from the innocent gesture. And then he pulled the last bit of her clothing from her long, trim legs and tossed them on the floor beside the bed.

She still hadn't opened her eyes, her shyness enchanting him even as he desired nothing more than her eagerness. But that would come later.

Moving up alongside her again, he leaned over to kiss her lips, her face and neck, his hand returning to her breasts, caressing with care should the passion in her start to ebb.

“Olivia,” he breathed against the soft skin of her face, “you are so much more than I dreamed…”

She whimpered again and he pulled back a little to stare down at her, one hand still teasing her breast, the other now resting at the edge of her forehead, his thumb tracing a line across her eyebrow. She still hadn't looked at him, and he noticed with a sharp pull to his gut that her lashes were laced with tiny tear droplets.

“Don't cry,” he whispered, suddenly worried his attempt at seduction would fail.

She shook her head minutely. “I can't help it,” she replied, squeezing her eyes even tighter. “I want you so much, but I'm so scared.”

The sublime astonishment he felt at that second would forever be etched in his memory.

Jesus, God.

With a shudder, he pulled his hand from her breast and placed his fingertips on her lips, watching her in wonder as she kissed them.

She'd confessed a fear of him, of the coming sexual act. And his greatest, overwhelming fear at that moment was that he was falling in love with her.

Jesus…

A powerful eruption of emotions rushed through him, startling him beyond comprehension. And then he leaned over and kissed her lashes, one at a time, saving him from divulging his feelings for her when he didn't understand them completely himself.

She responded to the touch, drawing a deep breath before wrapping her free arm around his neck to hold him close.

He moved lower to take her mouth again with his, kissing her deeply, with every ounce of passion he possessed, giving her everything inside of him, showing her what she so desperately yearned to feel.

And then without reservation he lowered his hand to the curls between her legs, his fingers sliding through them toward the hidden paradise within.

Her legs tightened by instinct. “Shh…open for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth.

She answered his request, very slowly relaxing her knees, and before she could change her mind, he glided his fingers into the soft, warm folds, his chest tightening when she sighed and whispered his name, arching her hips to take him deeper.

Her slick wetness coated him. Sam ground his teeth and steadied his breathing to control himself, to stay his own release before he could manage to take his trousers off and satisfy her.

She started panting as he began to stroke her, moving her hips, matching his rhythm perfectly in search of surrender. And she would climax quickly. She was just so wet, so ready.

“Livi, love, you know I'm going to enter you, don't you?” he asked, his lips against her ear, his tongue sucking the lobe, hoping to God he wouldn't have to explain the act before he did it.

She nodded and whispered, “Yes…”

Relief flooded him, coupled with encouragement and a hot new wave of desire.

He continued to stroke her, very slowly, coaxing her into short quick breaths and soft whimpers as he swiftly lifted his hips and fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, loosening them and pushing them down his legs faster than he ever had before. He kicked them from his feet, then scooted up to her again, lying beside her at last, as exposed as she.

Her body felt so warm next to his, her desire near its peak as he leaned over to kiss her breasts again, to suck and caress and taunt, as he continued to stroke her, slipping briefly inside of her, then out again, as he rotated his fingers on the nub of her pleasure until she nearly cried out.

Finally, and in one rapid motion, he crossed one leg over hers so the tip of his rigid erection rested against her hip.

She gasped, jerking a little when she felt it, but he held her closely, wanting her to experience the depth of his need, to grow used to the feel of his intimate touch.

And then with a speed that defied his craving for prolonged arousal, he pulled his fingers from between her legs and lifted himself over her, taking her mouth with his in hot frenzy, his tongue invading her sweetness, searching, sucking, his breathing now as erratic as hers. He nudged her thigh with his knee until she spread her legs wide to allow him access, then he placed his hips between them, steadying his body above hers with his forearms flat on the pillow beside her head.

He cupped her cheeks with his palms, teasing her lips with his, her eyelashes and nose with soft pecks. Then
he slowly raised his head to gaze down at her face.

“Look at me, Livi,” he urged in a breathless whisper.

She did as he bid her, her stunning blue eyes, glazed by desire, meeting his again for a final time before he would begin the invasion of her hot, tight sweetness and make her his own.

“Don't be afraid,” he pleaded in a whisper, his voice raspy and thick.

She nodded negligibly, inhaling a shaky breath, her hands on his shoulders as she mindlessly skimmed his neck with her fingertips.

And with that, he placed the hard tip of his erection at the wet, hot center of her femininity, pausing for a second or two to steady himself.

“Sam,” she whispered, closing her eyes, leaning up to kiss him.

Her sweet, gentle acceptance was all he needed. Very slowly, he began to push himself into her, stopping at once when she tensed, her body going rigid with a gasp from her lips.

He stilled, sensing the discomfort. Waiting for her to relax, he continued to kiss her, not with frenzy, but a tender grazing of his lips to hers, pulling himself out a little to reach down and grasp one of her knees, lifting her leg to make his entrance easier.

She pushed her fingers through his hair, kissed him back through every soft moan, through every whimper of building need.

“Relax, Livi, love,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice strained with a losing effort to hold back.

She tried, he knew, to do as he asked, easing the tightness he felt in her hips and legs.

He began to slide into her once more, this time going deeper, feeling the moist hot walls inside of her give way to make room for him. It hurt her, he knew, and it pained him almost as much to know there was absolutely no way to avoid it. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, touching his lips as he kept them locked with hers, coaxing her along with him as he entered her, then pulled back, entered ever farther, going deeper with each stroke, taking him to the brink of oblivion.

“You feel so good…” he said through a strained whisper, his body tense as he tried his very best to restrain an immediate climax of his own.

She whimpered, arching her back when, for a final time, he entered her as deeply as he could then ceased all movement, giving her a few seconds to adjust to the fullness as the pain gradually eased.

She would never fully know just how much he treasured this moment between them, what it felt like for him to be inside of a woman for the first time in ten long years. The sensation overwhelmed him, and he swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut to control his emotions, to rejoice in the exquisite power she held over him without her awareness.

She kissed him then, his cheeks and brow, his lips and jaw, and the sweetness emanating from her expressed everything she couldn't yet say to him in words, revealed just how much she'd longed for this moment, to feel him inside her for the very first time.

“God, Livi—”

“Give me everything…” she breathed against his skin.

He choked back a sob of pure ecstasy, gritting his
teeth as he pulled out of her a little, putting his full weight on one arm so he could lift his body just enough to reach down between them to stroke her again with his fingers.

She arched her hips against him, her nails digging into his shoulders, the muscles inside of her urging him on as they bathed him in hot, wet sweetness.

She began to relax, to whimper, her head leaning back hard against the pillows as she turned herself over to the pleasure, as he stroked her steadily, increasing the pace, bringing her ever closer to her peak of fulfillment.

He remained motionless inside of her, knowing that if he thrust into her even once he'd lose himself and his determination to watch her come first, to escape in her release, to share it with her. His body broke out in perspiration as he tightened his jaw, concentrating on her and what she needed.

She writhed beneath him, urging him on, her fingers clinging to his shoulders as he stared down to her beautiful face, feeling everything, sensing her moment of climax as it neared.

Suddenly she gasped and jerked once. Her eyes flew open and she looked at him.

“Yes, my love…Come for me…”

And then she screamed, cutting into his skin with her nails, arching into him as she cascaded over the edge.

He didn't even have to move. Each wave of her pleasure, each pulse from within as she tightly encased him, took him instantly to the brink of paradise.

Sam stared at the beauty that was her, that was
his
—and then it hit him hard.

He exploded inside of her, his head falling back as he grunted through clenched teeth with each thrust he could no longer control, through the intensity of an ultimate satisfaction that shook his body, that merged his heart with hers as a sharing of one, in a rush of pure joy that fulfilled his every dream.

O
livia opened her eyes, her mind foggy at first, unsure where she was for a moment as she gazed to the little bits of fruit and pinecones that adorned the wallpaper in his bedroom.
His
bedroom.

Oh, my God, what have I done?

She groaned inwardly, covering her eyes with a palm, wondering what in heaven's name she could possibly say to him as the memory of what they'd done came flooding back in all its shocking delight.

They must have both dozed off, for she now became aware of his naked form lying beside her, his head nestled in her neck, his warm, steady breathing brushing her skin as he draped both his arm across her belly, just under her breasts, and his calf over one of her legs.

She supposed she could hardly move without dis
turbing him, though her instinct was to jump out of bed and run far away from here, decently clothed of course.

But then maybe he didn't expect her to do or say anything. Maybe he'd simply get up, get dressed, and then they could go on as they had before, never mentioning this…mishap again. Though she didn't think Sam would consider making love to her a “mishap” any more than she did.

Even as her mind whirled with a million uncertainties, she decided that what they'd shared had been the most painful, and the most wonderful, exciting…glorious experience of her life.

He was simply amazing. Amazing, giving, gentle, and he'd treated her as if he truly cherished her and her thoughts and feelings. Never had another man treated her like Sam did, especially Edmund.

“What are you thinking?” he asked without moving, his tone lazy and utterly content.

She supposed she had to speak to him even if she did feel overwhelmed with embarrassment. Shaking her head, she lowered her hand from her eyes to lay it on the side of the bed. “It's not important.”

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating in his chest, which lay next to hers.

“Olivia, do you know how many men ask that question while dreaming of that exact response from a woman?”

That thoroughly confused her. “I don't understand you.”

He lifted his head a little so he could look at her, though she kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Most women never stop talking,” he said through a
grunt. “All they want to do is explain things.”

She laughed in spite of wanting to. “That's ridiculous.”

“No it's not, and you're quite aware of it, being an absolutely perfect specimen of the fairer sex.”

She couldn't stop grinning, closing her eyes as she decided he not only had a very keen understanding of females, he felt wonderful beside her.

“So,” he asked again, leaning up on his elbow to gaze down to her face, “what were you thinking?”

She sighed, lifting her lashes once more to look at him at last, her heart melting from his amused expression, from his tousled hair and gorgeous dark eyes. “What do you think?” she returned softly.

He shook his head at her obstinance, a sly grin lifting one side of his mouth. “You were thinking what a marvelous lover I am.”

She gaped at him, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising to her cheeks. “That's absurd.”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, his eyes sparkling with wicked humor. “No it's not. It's normal.”

She stared at him with feigned annoyance. “If you must know, I thought you were perfectly…adequate.”

He pulled back a little, brows furrowed, looking at her as if she were insane. “Adequate?
Adequate?
”

She shrugged lightly. “You obviously think you're marvelous, so what does my opinion matter?”

She teased him, of course, and he knew it.

He slowly shook his head, glancing down her nude form. “Then I suppose I'll just have to be better the next time.”

He couldn't possibly be serious. “Sam,” she started
very gravely, her voice taking on a somber note, “we can't ever do this again. It's—wrong.”

To her complete shock, he chuckled, moving his free hand from beneath her breast to trace a trail across her belly, forcing a shiver from her as gooseflesh rose to his touch.

“Oh, Olivia…I have so many things to teach you, the first of which is to never, ever, ever say that to a man.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “It only makes him desperate, and more determined.”

She giggled despite her reluctance to appear anything but decisive.

He grinned, then fell back against the bed, lying flat beside her, staring at the ceiling. “What I'd really like to know is what the hell you were doing outside alone with Edmund.”

That caught her completely off guard. Sighing, she said, “If I tell you, do you promise never to force me into your bed again?”

He laughed outright, irritating her a little because he didn't seem to take their predicament at all seriously.

He peeked at her sideways. “I swear I'll never force you into my bed. Now I want details.”

She sighed, knowing without doubt that he was being sneaky—he didn't exactly force her today and yet he'd managed to get her unclothed and practically begging for him when it was the last thing on earth she'd intended to do.

She turned on her side to view him better, resting her head in her palm but keeping her free hand decently between them, partially covering her breasts.

“He wanted to meet me. He approached me at the
party and more or less insisted I be there, at the arbor, at ten.”

He watched her, his earlier amusement all but gone. “You should have told me.”

Which really meant, she surmised at once, that he'd been hurt by her lie.

“I know. I'm sorry.”

He groaned in irritation, then ran his fingers through his hair. “I don't think he'd ever hurt you physically, but meeting him alone like that, after just catching him by surprise the night before, was the wrong thing to do, Olivia.”

That statement, and its implication of tenderness and worry, warmed her to her bones. With a vague smile on her lips, she reached out and ran a finger across his eyebrow. “Were you jealous?” she asked in a sly murmur.

His eyes narrowed as a trace of amusement crossed his features. “Maybe.”

She grinned. “Maybe?”

“He was standing much too close to you.”

“So you were jealous,” she purred.

He let out a low growl. “I didn't like it.”

Beaming, she replied, “I didn't either. He smelled like cheap cologne.”

Sam laughed low in his throat. Then without warning he covered her breast with his palm. “Actually, it's probably more accurate to say I felt strangely possessive, and very worried that I couldn't run down and rescue you because that would mean taking my eyes off of you for several minutes. Minutes where anything could happen.”

His thumb brushed her nipple, arousing it to a hard
ened nub, and heat flooded her again, rushing through her body. She moved her arm and laid her head on the pillow, facing him, aglow with the wonder of knowing he felt that way about her.

“What were you feeling, Livi?” he asked quietly, his gaze taking on a quiet intensity.

She inhaled deeply. “He made me angry, but then I think Edmund enjoys that. He's never really taken me and what I say very seriously. But I think he was also frightened of the fact that I'm here.”

“Did he mention your inheritance?”

She brushed loose strands of hair from her cheek. “He says he's in love with Brigitte, which I find appalling.”

His brows rose. “You do?”

Her features grew somber as she watched him. “Because I don't think he's capable of love, Sam. He told me he's bedded her, which I find…unbelievable.”

Smirking, he replied, “Why? Maybe she desires him, loves him enough to give herself to him before marriage.”

The mention of such a complication made her uncomfortable because it hit very close to home. “That just isn't something properly bred ladies do, Samson,” she remarked, feeling the heat of shame spread across her face.

He unexpectedly lifted her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her wrist once, then the back of her fingers. “I think it happens more often than you think,” he informed her, his tone low and serious.

She couldn't contemplate that now, what his taking her virginity might mean for her future, for their future
together, if in fact they were to have one.

Deciding it best to return to the more immediate subject, she revealed, “He told me he'd give me back the money he stole from me, all of it, if I don't mention a word of what he did to me, or what I know, to anyone, especially Brigitte.”

Sam closed his hand around hers and held it against his chest. “That makes sense, especially if he cares about her, or if he wants to swindle her of her inheritance, too.”

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “But the thing I don't understand is how he could get her money, regardless of whether the marriage is real. Her
grand-père
is the one who controls the wealth, and he's as strong as an ox.” She turned to him sharply. “Unless…”

He firmly shook his head. “I don't think he'd go so far as to kill someone, Livi. And if we are to assume he could never resort to murder, he'd need to marry her legally then wait for the old man's death of natural causes. In the meantime, he'd certainly be living comfortably.” He snorted. “That sounds more like Edmund's style.”

She ran her fingertips across the coverlet, brows furrowed in thought. “But he knows I can say anything I want, and I'm obviously in Grasse to confront him.”

“Not if he pays you off,” Sam reminded her. “It seems the money he stole from you is now going to work well with his plans to keep you silent. You need it, and he knows it.”

That made her just plain mad. “The snake in smelly cologne is using my money to blackmail me. I truly
cannot
wait
to see his face tonight. I might just kill
him.
Or kick him as hard as I can in the shin.”

Abruptly, Sam turned his head to look at her, then grasped her around the waist and easily hoisted her on top of his bare, firm…perfect body.

“What are you doing?” she blurted, attempting to wipe flying hair from her eyes and face.

“I'm feeling you,” he replied with a wide, pompous grin.

“Feeling me? Are you insane?”

“Do you know that the most enchanting thing about you, Livi, is your innocence?”

That flustered her and she squirmed, struggling to free herself from the positively enticing feel of his hard, masculine form beneath her, though it proved to be an entirely worthless attempt as he held her securely with strong arms. Eventually she gave up trying.

“I've never considered myself innocent, Sam,” she declared sternly. “I take care of myself, I take care of Nivan, I live a respectable life in a modern city—”

He laughed, and she felt it to her toes.

“Let me clarify some things for you, sweet,” he said rather mundanely, though clearly still amused. “You married a man you hardly knew, who then easily absconded with your inheritance without your knowledge. You came to me believing I was him without checking your facts. You manage your boutique while someone who works for you tells your aunt your every move—”

She gasped in disbelief, but he ignored that.

“You agreed to travel alone with me, a man, again, whom you hardly knew, apparently trusting that my
intentions were honorable. You're shocked to learn Claudette and Edmund are lovers and likely were lovers the entire time you were together. You lie to me about meeting him alone, then actually do so in a secluded garden where you can't possibly be seen by anyone should a problem arise. And finally, you're the most stubbornly beautiful,
innocent
woman, whose lovemaking ability defies description.” He paused, staring into her perfectly stunned eyes. “You didn't even know it was possible to kiss the bottom of your feet. Shall I go on?”

Olivia was speechless, never having considered these simple facts about herself and what she'd done while in his company, and it staggered her a little that he'd been so observant, had thought about her in such a light. But when she finally found her voice, the only thing she could think of to say had everything to do with her vanity.

Coyly, she asked, “You really think I'm beautiful?”

She expected him to laugh again and tease her, but he surprised her by turning remarkably serious, his gaze probing hers.

Finally, huskily, he maintained, “I think you're exquisite—from your body, to your mind, to your little toes, to your laugh, to the perfect way you make love to me. And I will never, ever let you go.”

His words and meaning, the intensity in his voice, struck her profoundly. She started trembling faintly, her throat too tight to speak, fearful she might break down into tears in front of him. In an instant she leaned over and kissed him with all the passion inside of her, exposing every deep feeling he evoked in her, loving
him with every breath and touch.

It took him only seconds to respond, and when he did, he came alive beneath her, stroking her up and down her spine with his fingertips, returning each kiss with a need unmatched.

She ran her fingers through his silky hair, felt the flexing muscles of his chest beneath her breasts, the growing hardness of his rekindled desire, which she no longer feared but yearned to feel inside of her again.

Finally, he turned her over, very slowly, his lips never leaving hers as she once again lay on her back, the soft pillows cushioning her head. He kissed her until the fire lit anew, until her hunger flamed for him, until her breath quickened and her body ached with urgency. She moved her legs involuntarily up and down the length of his, unable to control the tiny whimpers that escaped her when his hand found her breasts and began teasing her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and thumb. And then he broke away from her mouth to kiss a line of fire down her throat, her chest, and the side of each breast before taking one into his mouth to gently suck and kiss and caress.