Love According To Lily (12 page)

Chapter 14

I shouldn’t be doing this
, Whitby thought in a mindless, baffling fog as he thrust his tongue past Lily’s sweet lips and devoured the hot whole of her mouth. But God, he couldn’t stop himself! The feel of her lips and tongue on the inside of his arm had driven him half mad with a fierce, throbbing need.

He’d never imagined wanting to make love to Lily, but he did, dammit, he did. He’d taken one look at her big blue eyes, had seen the fierce sexual yearning pulsing in their depths, and couldn’t keep himself from touching her, couldn’t stop the scorching flood of need that, despite everything, was sweeping him away at this very moment.

He tilted his head from one side to the other, kissing her deeply and aggressively, feeling rejuvenated, as if he’d just beaten down this fever with a heavy iron fist.

She stood up and crawled onto the bed, moaning softly and never breaking the intimate connection of the kiss. Then she straddled him and pushed him back against the pillows, and he realized his Lily was an aggressive lover. Then he remembered their childhood games and tussles. She’d always been creative and physically domineering, even then.

He held her face in his hands while he kissed her, wondering how he could be doing this and why he wasn’t trying harder to stop. But all he cared about at the moment was the feel of her soft, luscious body on top of his, and the sweet taste of her intoxicating mouth.

She sat down upon his erection beneath the sheet, and thrust her hips over it, pressing down and rubbing herself over him. He thrust his own hips, too, following her rhythm while he plunged his tongue into her mouth.

He gripped her hips to help her move, sliding her this way and that for the maximum degree of pleasure possible through the sheet.

“James would kill me if he caught us,” Whitby said, when Lily broke the kiss and sucked on his neck. His erection grew harder. He was a rock down there.

He thrust his hips upward, grinding against the soft folds of her womanhood through the sheet.

“I wouldn’t let him,” she said, bringing her lips back to his, thrusting her tongue deep inside his mouth.

Jesus, this was out of control.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had flipped Lily onto her back and was snuggling himself tight into the valley between her thighs, tugging at the tangled sheet to get it out from between them. Soon he was kissing her deeply again, thrusting his hips and running his hand down the outside of her leg, gathering her skirts in his fist and pulling them up. He raised his hips to get her skirts and petticoats up around her waist, then propped himself up on his hands to thrust between her legs.

He wondered again if she was a virgin.

“What happened between you and Pierre?” he asked directly. Finally. “Did you give yourself to him, Lily?”

He didn’t want her to say yes. He didn’t want to hear that. Yet, if she had…

“No,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

He shut his eyes and pushed hard against her, then lowered his weight down upon her. He kissed her neck and blew into her ear.

“Then you’re still a virgin?” he whispered, just to be sure before he restrained himself and put the brakes on his desires.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tightly. “Yes.”

He nodded, accepting the necessary end to this all too brief and unexpected pleasure.

His body was disappointed, dissatisfied and a little perturbed that she was inexperienced. If she had not been a virgin…

But she was still his sweet, untouched Lily. The rest of him—his heart and his mind—was relieved.

He slowly gentled the force of his thrusts, bringing his body back under control, squeezing his eyes shut, remembering who they were and what was happening here. He was ill. He was not rational. Neither was she.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he softly said. And it was the truth. He lay very still. “But we need to stop this. ”

“No, I don’t want to stop,” she replied. “I’m willing, Whitby. Please.”

More than a little surprised, and still as stiff as a brick, he had to hunt for self-control and the fortitude to act responsibly. It wasn’t easy. She was so soft and warm and beautiful beneath him. If she were any other woman…

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered into her neck.

“Yes, I do. I love you, Whitby.”

If there were ever three words more effective in curtailing the desires of a man like him, he would like to know what they were. Not even “my husband’s home” had a stronger effect.

He took a deep breath and rolled off her, discreetly flipping her skirt down to cover the tops of her legs. He leaned back on the headboard, shut his eyes and tapped his head against it a few times. He needed to knock some sense into himself.

Lily inched up on the bed, too, tugging at her skirts and awkwardly clearing her throat. He raked a hand through his hair. He felt very irritable all of a sudden.

“You’re angry,” she said.

With his head still tipped back on the headboard, eyes still closed, he shook his head. “Not at you.”

“What then? Because I can see that you’re angry.”

He sighed and met her gaze. “I’m angry at myself. You’re James’s baby sister.”

“I’m a woman, Whitby.”

Yes, he was more than aware of that now. And she was the kind of woman he would very much like to make love to. She was passionate, beautiful, aggressive…

But she was also innocent. And she was James’s sister. And she loved him.
Loved
him! What a damned bloody mess this was.

Lily turned slightly toward him. “When I first came in here,” she said, “I didn’t intend for this to happen. I had just wanted to talk to you about something, and I never did.”

“I thought we did,” he said, remembering that she’d told him how she felt. Which was how all this had started.

Her face became flushed all of a sudden, as if she were nervous. He waited uneasily for her to continue.

“I wanted to talk to you about the problem you have with your cousin.”

“Magnus?” he asked, more than a little perplexed. They had certainly strayed off topic if that’s what she’d wanted to talk about.

“Yes. I mentioned that Annabelle told me about the situation, and I know how worried you’ve been since you became ill, because you have no heir.”

He could feel his blood turning cool with a profound sense of dread. Where was she going with this? He didn’t want to know. All he could do was stare at her with a numb and nervous anticipation, his brain incapable of sending thoughts to his tongue to form words…

“Whitby, I know this will sound insane, but if you are truly worried about your health and your future, I could give you an heir. The doctor said it was possible, and judging by what just happened, he was right.”

Holy Mother of God.

He stared blankly at her on the bed beside him, knowing his eyes were wide, his face surely stone gray. Lily. Give him an heir? Had she lost her mind?

He swallowed hard. His stomach felt like it was made of lead. He didn’t know what the hell to say to her.

He took a moment to get over the shock, and to remind himself that this had surely been difficult for her and she was probably bracing herself for a rejection.

At least he hoped she was. If she wasn’t, she needed to do that straight away, because it was coming. God damn right it was coming.

“Lily,” he said, striving to be calm and gentle about this when all he really wanted to do was leap out of the bed and put distance between them, as if she’d just become a hot potato in his hands. Jesus, his heart was pounding.

“Lily,” he said again, “that is very kind of you to offer, but you know I can’t do that.”

“Why? Because I’m your best friend’s sister?”

He could see in her eyes that she was determined to debate the issue and try to convince him.

He didn’t want to debate it. He just wanted her to go.

“It’s not just that,” he replied, because he had to let her down gently. She was Lily, and she believed herself to be in love with him. “It’s complicated. I would have to marry you. But I’m ill. I know you see this as an ingenious plan to solve my family problems, but what if I die? I can’t marry you just to make you a widow.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” She shook her head. “Oh, that didn’t come out right. Of course I would mind if you died, but I would mind more if I could not do this for you and be close to you. And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy what just happened.”

She had no idea how uncomfortable she was making him. This was madness.

“You’re too young to give up your life like that, especially for a man like me. You deserve better. You deserve to marry a decent fellow and have a whole nursery full of children and a long happy life.” He waved a hand through the air. “And you’re presuming I am going to die. What if I recover? Then we’ll be stuck, won’t we?”

She lowered her gaze. “In a loveless marriage, you mean.”

“Well, yes.”

“It would only be loveless for you.”

God, she made him feel like such a heel. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you, Lily.”

Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep intake of breath. She looked defeated. “But isn’t there a chance you could love me?” she asked. “I thought you seemed to enjoy what we just did.”

“That was physical,” he tried to explain. “What can I say? I’m a man, and I was aroused. It doesn’t mean I am in love with you. I’m sorry, that sounds harsh. I care for you, Lily, you know that.”

“Yes, I do, but I want more. I want to
give
you more. I could make you happy.”

He was not entirely without feeling. Her words touched him. He did care for her, very deeply, and he knew it. He reached out to cup her chin in his hand.

“You’re a beautiful woman,” he whispered. “And you’re going to make someone very happy one day. But it can’t be me, Lily. I’m not the one for you, and I won’t use you to solve my problems, even though it’s what you want—or think you want.”

She kept her gaze downcast, and he wished she would look at him. He needed to know that she was going to be all right. “Lily,” he whispered, trying to lift her chin with his finger.

Finally, her eyes lifted. They were not wet with tears as he had expected, but there was immense pain in them. He had more than disappointed her. He had broken her heart.