Reckless Viscount (25 page)

He lifted his hand from the low curve of her spine to grip the back of her neck and turned her face to his. She looked at him through the haze of her need. His eyes glowed with golden fire and she felt a pull in her chest.

“You unravel me,” he whispered against her panting mouth.

He withdrew his fingers from her heat.

She moaned in soft protest and clutched at his arm, digging her fingernails deep into the fabric of his coat.

“I am not leaving you,” he murmured.

In a single deft move, he gripped her hips in his hands and turned her toward him, then repositioned her legs until she straddled him, her knees cradling his hips. He reached between them and quickly opened the fastening at his waist, releasing himself from the confines of his breeches.

With fascination, Abbigael noticed the strain hardening the features of his face, somehow making him even more handsome. With gritted teeth, he grasped her hips again and pulled her toward him until her sex rested perfectly against the hardened ridge of his arousal.

The direct heated contact of her sensitive flesh with the silken length of him sent shivers of weakness through her body and she gasped. Her hands gripped his shoulders until her fingers ached with the effort. She wanted him so badly right then her entire body burned with the need that filled her.

She shifted impatiently and was pleased to hear the rough groan that escaped from his throat.

She licked her lips and whispered, “We can…like this?”

“I apologize for my appalling lack of finesse, but I cannot wait another second.” His velvet voice was strained and tight.

He lifted her hips and she felt him at her entrance for just a second before he guided her down over the tip of his erection. The fit was tight, but hot and slick. Their eyes met through the dark night shadows as her body slowly, slowly took him in. Once he filled her completely, they each released a breath—hers light and shaky, his rough and low.

Holding her gaze, he loosened his grip about her hips and slid his hands up along the narrow dip of her waist, over her ribcage that expanded and contracted with every breath, until his palms cupped the soft curves of her breasts. He swept the edges of her short cloak back over her shoulders and lightly skimmed his blunt fingernails across the skin at the top edge of her bodice, causing tingling shivers to course through her body.

In a swift move, he tugged the top edge of her bodice down to expose both breasts, then he leaned forward and pressed his lips between them. Turning his head first one way then the other, he took care to lavish equal attention to each breast until every tugging draw of his mouth on her nipples reached through her womb to where they were joined. Though he remained unmoving within her, she could feel the steady throbbing pulse of his erection growing stronger.

The sensation was astonishing, wicked and erotic.

But she wanted more.

Abbigael moved her hips, causing a wonderful slide of his body in hers. She gasped and arched instinctively, causing another gentle glide within her.

Leif released her breast with a groan that sounded half-relief, half-despair, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him as he rocked his hips beneath her.

Their rhythm was slow, the thrusts shallow but decadent. The building of pleasure was steady, strong and consuming.

One moment, Abbigael was reveling in the wealth of sensations that filtered through every cell in her body and the next, the pleasure reached a pinnacle and released with quiet intensity that spread outward in glittering spirals as she spun off into a universe of bursting stars.

The first thing to recall Abbigael back to earth was the call of night birds in the canopy above them. The sound quickly reminded her where they were.

She regretted the intrusion of reality, but could not ignore it.

A deep flush of heat spread across her skin as she realized the full recklessness of what they had just done. She tensed and glanced around, but the forest remained still and dark, as if holding them in a secluded world all their own. Only the very faint strains of the orchestra confirmed they were a part of something bigger.

Leif chortled in the back of his throat, apparently amused by her sudden concern for their surroundings.

She looked back at him and he took quick advantage to grasp her face in his hands and pull her forward for a deep and luscious kiss. Although she had been prepared to utter something about the inappropriateness of his amusement and the fact that they had best right themselves before someone came upon them, the scolding words flew from her mind the second his tongue swept past her swollen lips.

When she was pliant in his arms once again, he pulled back and murmured, “I had planned to share a lovely meal in a private pavilion. I intended to charm you with witty banter and feed you from my hand. I had hoped to seduce you over fine wine and culinary delicacies.” He smiled, that half-suppressed, devilish, boyish grin that left Abbigael breathless and light-headed. “But now, all I want to do is get you home and fully naked so we can finish consummating this marriage more properly. I leave the decision to you, my delightful Irish wife. I hold my breath in anticipation of your response.”

Needing no time at all to consider her choices, Abbigael replied immediately. “Take me home.”

He released an audible breath. “As you wish.”

He gently replaced her bodice over her breasts, placing soft kisses on the upper swell of each one before he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped away the moisture from between their legs. He was attentive, thorough and discreet. And she was grateful for his quiet ministrations as he helped her to her feet, providing support as her weakened legs regained their strength beneath her.

He held her hand, their fingers interlinked as they made the walk back through the forest and then along Lover’s Lane. The way was traversed in a quiet afterhaze of receding sensation. Abbigael still felt the pulse of pleasure between her legs, the thundering beat of her heart and the flush of warmth over her skin.

She felt…cherished and treasured in a way she could never have expected. There was a new sense of personal power and intimate delight present in her being that was something of a revelation. The feeling was so wonderful that she couldn’t even call up a drop of shame or embarrassment for having indulged in the pleasures of lovemaking while in the midst of such a public place. Rather than being shocked by her wanton behavior, Abbigael found herself excited by the liberation of such a hedonistic act.

She didn’t realize that a silly smile had spread across her lips until Leif looked at her and grinned.

“What thoughts are dancing through that sharp little mind of yours?”

“I never would have thought I had it in me to be so wanton.”

Leif laughed and lifted their joined hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I knew it all along.”

Abbigael cast a skeptical gaze at her husband. “Oh, you did, did you? And what exactly was it in my manner that gave away a secret so well guarded even I was unaware of it?”

“Your manner is very fine,” he assured her with a barely suppressed twist of delight to his lips. “That is not where I first caught a glimpse of the wickedness within you.”

“Where then?”

He stopped and turned to face her. His eyes swept over her features. “I saw it in a multitude of small things. Things another man may miss by looking too directly at the obvious.”

Abbigael eyed him with a touch of suspicion and a dose of fascination. “What do you mean?”

He brushed his thumb along the arch of her eyebrow. “It was in the other-worldliness of your fairy eyes.” He touched his index finger to the center of her bottom lip. “And the way your lips parted with breathless anticipation when I spoke to you and how your voice shielded the words you wished you could say. It was in the energy barely contained in the thoughtless movement of your hands and the forced sedateness in your walk. You were clearly meant for more than what the constraints that had been placed on you would allow. And now you are liberated.” He finished with a confident grin.

Abbigael was amazed by his perception, but a part of her had to ask, “Am I liberated? Truly?”

Leif lifted his brows and thought for a moment.

“Only you can know the answer to that, Irish.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The carriage brought them to the front door of Leif’s townhouse.

Their walk back through the gardens and then the carriage ride through the streets of London brought a return of composure to them both. But it was a façade. Sexual tension swirled in the atmosphere as thick and palpable as a London fog.

Leif watched Abbigael.

She continued to be an enigma to him.

Her passion was undeniable and explosive. Not unlike her temper, once roused it was not easily doused. The first time at the inn had branded his memory and he had been unable to keep from replaying the scene in his mind a dozen times since. It was frustrating that he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about her that charmed him so completely and had him hard and aching just by the thought of her. He hadn’t planned to take her again in the gardens, but once she had given herself over to the kiss, he could no more deny the need he sensed in her than he could ignore his own.

He studied her seated so calmly across from him. She hadn’t spoken much since they left Lover’s Lane and he wondered at her thoughts. But more specifically, he wondered what to do next.

She was his wife.

She had been a virgin before he had touched her.

He knew those things should mean something, but every time he had her arching and moaning in his arms, he forgot about all of that and only wanted to indulge in the fiery lust that burned within him. Wasn’t there some code of proper behavior between husband and wife? Wasn’t that why so many men sought their pleasure with mistresses and courtesans?

He had to be breaking the rules with Abbigael. Surely a proper husband did not make love to his wife in the middle of Lover’s Lane. That he would break the rules was no surprise. What amazed him was that his little Irish wife didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Are we going in?” she asked when he continued to sit and stare at her minutes after the carriage had stopped moving. Her eyes were bright and clear even in the darkness and he felt the hum of electricity flowing between them.

His cock pulsed to life, urging him into action.

“Of course.”

He opened the door and jumped to the pavement then turned to help her down.

God, he didn’t think he had ever anticipated a night quite so much.

As she stepped down to the pavement beside him, he lifted her hand and turned it over. Then he lowered his head to place a solid kiss in the center of her palm before turning and walking her to the door.

Inside, the house was eerily quiet.

Langley had long since gone to bed and only a few candles lit the wide entryway. Leif hadn’t had the funds to update to the gaslights many people were starting to install and he rather liked the subtle glow of candlelight.

He turned to Abbigael, and without a word he helped remove her cloak and set it on the small table. Her throbbing pulse was visible at the base of her slim throat, there was a breathless tautness in her shoulders and her gaze dropped to his mouth at the same time that her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

Leif swallowed hard and urged his blood to a slower pace. He had every intention of making this night as long and memorable as possible. It would not do for his libido to jump ahead of itself.

As if her sole intention was to challenge his control, she smiled in a distinctly secretive and feminine way as she took a step toward him. Placing her hand on his chest, she tilted back her head and the look in her eyes stopped his heart. Then she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her warm, sweet lips to his.

His heart jumped back into the race with a galloping jolt. Even after all of the physical intimacy they had already shared, or perhaps because of it, that simple innocent touch had his lust raging as if he were a boy in the midst of his first infatuation.

Her lovely lashes shadowed the glow of desire in her eyes.

“Take me upstairs,” she whispered.

A stab of lust shot straight from his chest to his groin.

“As you wish,” he replied, wondering how his voice could sound so even when his body shook with the hunger that gripped him. He grasped her hand and led her to the stairs, barely resisting the urge to take the steps two at a time in his haste to get her to bed. He thought he may have heard her giggle softly, but he couldn’t be sure he heard right through the hazy roaring in his ears.

Reaching the second floor landing, he turned automatically to the left. He entered the bedroom and closed the door behind them, then released her hand to start a warming fire in the grate. Within minutes, the room was illuminated with a fiery glow and heat billowed out to warm them.

Standing, he turned back to his wife and every muscle in his body froze in sudden alarm.

She stood where he had left her, just inside the doorway. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she perused the details of the room with wide and startled eyes. When her gaze came to rest on the plush mound of pillows in satin, silk and velvet that made up the centerpiece of the room, Leif’s stomach clenched painfully.