Lady Beauchamp's Proposal (40 page)

More. Now.

The imperative to taste her, take her was so
great, he dropped to his knees before her.

“Lift your skirts,” he rasped, staring up at
her. She immediately complied with shaking hands, revealing white
silk drawers, and neat ankles and feet encased in black kid boots.
Without ceremony he tugged the silk ribbon at her waist and pulled
the drawers down, off and over her boots.
Better
.

Ravenous with need, his gaze and hands
traced over shapely calves wearing nothing but silk stockings, up
to her slender naked thighs and the dark blonde curls covering her
sex.

Splaying his hands across her hips to hold
her steady, he circled and dipped into her navel with his tongue
before running his nose down the center of her silky smooth, flat
abdomen, to her curls, deeply inhaling the musky scent of her
arousal. He groaned; he wanted her so badly his balls throbbed, but
he would satisfy her this way first before he lost himself inside
her.

“Hook your leg over my shoulder, my
love.”

She did as he bid, and he was immediately
afforded with the irresistible, mouth-watering view of her exposed,
deep-pink folds already slick and glistening, and her swollen
clitoris. Ambrosia had never looked so fine.

He gently opened her further with his
fingers, then licked the length of her cleft, savoring her juices
before he began to circle and lap her quivering center with his
tongue.

“James,” she groaned hoarsely and gripped
his head tightly with one hand, her hips swaying forwards, her
thigh muscles quivering. He loved it that she was so wanton with
him. That she let him have his wicked, wicked way. Even though she
was panting raggedly, he recognized that she was not yet at her
peak. And he was determined to fling her heavenward.

He started to slide two of his fingers in
and out of her in a calculated, merciless rhythm whilst he
alternated quick, light tongue flicks with a deeper suckling at her
core. She was almost there—hot liquid rushed around his tormenting
fingers and he felt her rise up as her muscles clenched. And then
she came on a heart-wrenching cry that was almost a sob. Her legs
gave way and she collapsed into his arms, shuddering, shaking,
moaning his name into his neck.

He gathered her to him and held her until
she’d recovered sufficiently enough to hold herself upright again.
As she kissed his throat, he could feel that her face was wet with
tears.

“We haven’t finished yet, my angel,” he
murmured into the disheveled mess of her hair. “Remember we have
all night.”

Don’t think about the fact that this may be
the last time you get to do this. Any of this.

* * * *

Undone.

That’s how Elizabeth felt. Completely and
utterly.

When James began to loosen her hair from
whatever remained of the arrangement, aftershocks of pleasure were
still rippling through her, at odds with the despair in her
heart.

But she couldn’t dwell on the fact that
tonight would be full of ‘last times’ for them both. If she did,
she would dissolve into a useless, blithering mess. James was
right. They hadn’t finished. They both needed to enjoy what little
time they had left together, whilst they still could.

With a shuddering sigh, she lifted her head
from his shoulder and placed her palms flat on the hard planes of
his chest, the heavily muscled pectorals rising and falling with
every ragged breath he took. He looked close to unraveling as well.
This wouldn’t do.

“I want you inside me,” she said, her voice
husky with both tears and desire.

He ran a thumb along her lower lip, his gaze
searing her, making her sex throb anew. “My thoughts exactly, my
love.”

With shaking hands, she peeled off his
already unbuttoned waistcoat, then helped him to pull off his
shirt. Then gasped in horror. “James, you’re hurt more than I
realized.” Her fingers ran lightly over the right side of his lean
ribcage, tracing the ugly black and purple bruises that had
obviously flowered there after his beating. A peculiar mixture of
white-hot anger and anguish lanced through her at the thought of
him being subjected to anything that would cause this much damage
and pain. Pain he’d endured for her.

“It’s nothing,” he said lifting her chin,
forcing her to meet his gaze. “Nothing will stop me from having
you, Beth.” Then he dipped his head and kissed her with such
focused intent, all coherent thought soon skittered away to be
replaced again by fierce, aching need.

Need that was not hers alone. James’s cock
was like a rod of forged iron, insistently pushing against her.
Blindly, with desperate trembling fingers, she attacked the buttons
securing the fall of his breeches until he sprang free.

Yes
. She wrapped her hand around the
throbbing, hot shaft of him and he sucked in a sharp breath, his
eyes darkening to volcanic black. A dark thrill shot through
her.

“How do you want me?” she murmured, running
her thumb across the silken head where moisture already bloomed.
The rich, heady scent of his arousal rose about them and she longed
to take him in her mouth, but tonight, they couldn’t afford to
waste his seed.

“This way.” He rose to his feet, pulling her
with him before he pushed her against the wall—she could feel the
oak wainscoting digging into her lower back. She didn’t care. She
wanted him to be rough, to obliterate everything else from her mind
except for the reality of him, entering her. Taking her.

“I’ve always wanted you this way. Lift your
skirts with one hand. Then grab my shoulder with the other.” Before
she knew what he was about—of all the positions they had tried,
James had never shown her this—he grasped her about the waist with
one arm, and under her behind with the other, then lifted her off
her feet.

“Wrap your legs about me,” he panted, and as
soon as she did, he raised her higher until she could feel the head
of his cock pushing against her slick entrance. Then with one
smooth movement, he thrust upwards, until he had hilted himself
fully inside her.

She gasped. The sensation of his deep
penetration took her breath away. She was impaled on him, crushed
between his naked torso and powerful hips and the wall behind
her.

Then he began to move her. The bunched,
rock-like muscles of his upper body flexed and rippled as he began
to slide her up and down upon his iron-hard shaft. She gripped his
wide shoulders already slick with sweat, her nails drawing blood.
His black gaze drove into her as surely as his cock hammered in and
out of her. Driving her higher and higher. Making her sheath clench
tighter. Her breath saw raggedly.

“Come for me, Beth.” His voice came out
harsh and low, between gritted teeth. He was so close to the edge,
she could feel it, his shaft began to swell and thicken within her.
At last, he closed his burning eyes. Cried her name again.

And then she crashed over the precipice with
him, falling head-long with dizzying speed into bliss. Her body
convulsed about him and she bit into his shoulder to stifle her
hoarse cry of ecstasy. Such infinite pleasure.

She would never forget this feeling for as
long as she lived. She would take it into her, make it part of her.
Not just a memory—it would be an imprint on her soul. Like her love
for this man.

“I love you, James,” she whispered. And then
she wept.

* * * *

Much later, in the quietest, coldest hour of
the night, just before dawn, Beth awoke from a light doze with a
start. And then cursed herself inwardly for wasting precious
moments of this night to sleep.

In the soft darkness, she felt James kiss
her temple. “It’s nearly dawn, my love.”

“I know…”

The candles had burnt low, and only a soft
reddish glow emanated from the fire. The room was cold but she
certainly wasn’t.

She and James were naked, curled about each
other in the four-poster bed, and Beth couldn’t—no didn’t—want to
move a muscle. Not because she ached all over—which she most
definitely did after having made love with James in just about
every conceivable way—but because she didn’t want to lose this
perfect, intimate contact with his warm, hard body.

She pressed her lips to his collarbone and
inhaled the exotic masculine scent that was all his own. She wanted
to tell him so many things; the depth of her love for him; that
even though she would never, ever forget him, he needed to forget
her and move on and find happiness with someone else…

All these words had already been spoken
during the night. But she didn’t want to say them again because she
just knew she would cry. And she didn’t want to spend their last
hour together, weeping against him. There had been too many tears
already.

Perhaps she could just show him—all that he
was to her—before they had to part. Forever.

She kissed his neck again, in the place
where his pulse beat hard and fast, then skimmed a hand lightly
across his broad chest, down his lean, ridged torso, to his hip
bone and flank. She felt his manhood twitch against her belly and
despite her sorrow, she felt her lips curve into a smile. How
bittersweet these last moments with James would be.

She enclosed her hand around the hot, hard
length of him, taking pleasure in the sound of him breathing her
name on a deep groan. She wanted to do something, just for him,
that didn’t have anything to do with pleasing her…or getting her
with a child.

She slid her mouth in a series of gentle,
lingering kisses along the same path her hand had just travelled
until she reached his swollen cock. It amazed her that even after
all they had done, he was still so effortlessly aroused…The musk of
their coupling was rich and heavy in the air around them, enticing
her to take him—all of his delicious, tempting hardness into her
mouth.

And she did. She swirled her tongue around
the silken, engorged head of his cock, savoring the salty taste of
both their essences before she plunged her whole mouth down and
around him as far as she could before withdrawing, back up to the
tip again; down and up, down and up, her mouth mimicking the suck
and slide of their earlier couplings.

James hand was splayed over her head, his
fingers gripping tighter and tighter. Then all of a sudden, he
grasped her face between his hands and stilled her movements.

“Beth…”

What was wrong? She lifted her head, but
before she could speak, he sat up then kissed her, deeply,
tenderly. Heartbreakingly.

When he pulled away, she could only just
make out the intent, harrowed expression on his face. “Beth…I want
you with me…this time.” The words were left unspoken…
Our last
time.

He sat up, pulling her with him before he
grasped her gently about the hips and positioned her so she was
straddling him. She sucked in a breath as she felt the delicious,
teasing pressure of the head of his cock nudging between her folds,
pushing at her already drenched entrance. The wanting within her
was suddenly so strong, she couldn’t wait for James to enter her.
With a great shuddering gasp, she slid downwards, engulfed the
whole steely length of him, all the way down to the very base of
his cock. He filled her so completely, so deeply, it took her
breath away.

James groaned then suddenly pressed his
teeth against the sensitive tendon at the juncture of her neck and
shoulder, sending a sharp blast of pleasure through her. She gasped
again, panting hard as her inner muscles quivered and clenched
around him—and willed herself not to climax too soon. She didn’t
want this to be over in a short, sharp blinding moment. She had to
make this last for both of them.

Attuned to her verging crisis, James raised
his head and kissed her gently, his hands cupping her face as his
thumbs stroked along her jawline. She whimpered and parted her lips
for him, her tongue caressing his as she fought for control.

“Slowly, my love,” he whispered into her
mouth as his hands slid from her face, skated lightly down her arms
to her breasts. He then expertly flicked his thumbs backwards and
forwards across her already peaked, throbbing nipples, sending
another volley of sparks, straight to her trembling loins.

Like her, he was breathing harshly now, his
expression strained. “I want you too much this way,” he grated out.
“Forgive me, Beth.”

* * * *

Before she could respond, Rothsburgh tipped
Beth back onto the bed, covering her with his body. Although it
cost him dear—his balls throbbed like hell—he remained motionless,
suspended on the edge of a sacred-like moment, as his gaze locked
with Beth’s. Memorizing her. Her remarkable grey eyes were so
solemn, so filled with love. It was killing him to let her go back
to her husband to play nursemaid, to be nothing but a
broodmare.

And what hurt the most at this particular
moment, was that he knew she was putting on a brave face for
him—that inside she was falling apart just as much as he was. But
before they were carried away on passion’s sure tide again, he had
to let her know something.

He dragged in a breath then spoke with
deliberate softness. “I will love you, Beth, until the end of my
days. And although you don’t want me to, I
will
wait for
you. Nothing you can say will convince me to give you up.”

“James…” She reached up and stroked his
face. “You can’t—”

“Yes. I can.” Ruthless man that he was, he
would not listen to any further protests. It didn’t matter what she
said. He lowered his head and kissed her as tenderly, as reverently
as he could, his tongue gently sweeping into her mouth, his lips
sliding with intentional, tantalizing slowness. A tribute to their
love.

She moaned into him, a small sound somewhere
between a sigh and a whimper, as her hands came up to caress his
neck, his shoulders, his arms. Then her hips suddenly tilted and
she cradled him, wrapped her legs about him. And he penetrated
deeper. So deep. It was like he connected with her very soul.