Sinful Cravings (8 page)

“Yes.” She ran her gaze over him. “You look weary.”

He shook his head in dismay. Weary wasn’t the word. About five decades older, more like. He’d never felt so terrified in his life. Which confirmed something that had been creeping up on him since he’d met Hettie.

He was falling for her.

Jasper arranged it so that their rooms were next to each other. His protectiveness touched Hettie. The relief on his face when he’d spotted her in the hotel entrance had made her heart sing. Was it at all possible that Jasper cared for her? Perhaps she was just one more in that long line of women but she didn’t think so. If she was, he’d have had her in bed by now. Or tried at the very least. She was hardly going to give up her virginity to a rogue, but she wouldn’t have put it past him to try.

No. No, that wasn’t right. The man she’d
thought
he was would have tried. She wasn’t so sure about the real Jasper, though. There was no doubting he was a flirt and a rogue. He enjoyed chasing those women and made no apologies for it. However, at the heart of that flirtatious manner was an intelligent man. A caring one too. Whatever the sins of his past were, she didn’t think this man would go about taking virginities.

He glanced her way as they followed the porter to their rooms. Her heart gave a little bounce in her chest. Was it foolish to believe she could capture his attention? Perhaps. But had she not been debating his fine qualities only a moment ago? There was a chance—a small one—that he too saw beneath her exterior. Did he see how well they worked together? How he eased her out of her rigid shell while she kept him out of trouble?

There was no doubting it. She just had to make sure Emma was safe first. When all this was over, she wanted to spend more time with Jasper. For once, she saw her life as more than simply serving others. This tiny, selfish voice inside her begged her to take something for herself for a change. That something was Jasper.

Foolish or not, she had to try. He might reject her, and she would return home and forget all about him. But at least she would have tried. If she’d learned anything from Jasper, it was that anything was worth attempting once.

The porter showed her into her room and deposited her bags. Jasper went into his room but returned shortly after as she began unpacking. He settled himself on the bed and eyed her, as though it was entirely normal for her to have a man in her room.

“You should not be in here,” she told him.

“Pish, no one knows who I am here.”

“The hotel staff know and before long there will be gossip.” She expected him to tease her, but instead his expression grew dark.

“Does it bother you, Hettie? That people shall gossip about you and me?”

Once it had. But now...? “Not really. Who am I, after all? No one knows my name. I’m sure I shall be forgotten soon enough.”

He stood and strode over, his brows furrowed in what could only be described as a ferocious expression. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he was angry with her.

“Never. Who could forget you?”

Hettie gave a depreciative laugh. “Everyone. It is easily done, I assure you.”

“I will not.”

She froze and looked into his eyes, so warm and rich and inviting. Slowly, she lowered her skirt back into the travelling bag and licked her lips. “Why...” Her voice came out reed thin. “Why shall you not forget me?”

A loud thump resounded in her ears while she waited for the answer. Her heart must have been pounding faster than a steam train.

“I like you very much, Hettie,” he told her in a low tone.

A finger came up to press a strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheek tingled from the touch. Her chest constricted.

“Very, very much.” He leaned in and brushed the sweetest, most delicate kiss across her lips. “Hettie, I should like to court you once this is over.”

She swallowed hard. “C-court me?” Of course, this was what she’d been imagining, dreaming, but the reality of it...? Hettie couldn’t quite bring herself to believe he really wanted her. She’d thoroughly expected to be rejected.

“Yes.”

“As in...” She dropped her gaze away from his. “As in, you wish to bed me?”

“No.”

“As in...for something else?”

“Yes.”

Her gaze shot to his. “You understand I’m not like those other women. I will not be taken to bed and discarded.”

“I do.” He came close again and this time his lips swept over hers several times. “As I have said, you are an amazing woman, Hettie Foster. And I should very much like to spend more time with you. I am smart enough to know when I have met my match.”

And she had met hers, she thought.

“In that case, yes. You can court me.”

His eyes crinkled in the corners and he put his hands to her shoulders to draw her close. Jasper’s warm gaze ran over her, pausing at her mouth which still tingled from the all-too-brief kiss. Hettie couldn’t help herself. She lifted her chin in invitation.

Jasper’s lips twitched. He lowered his mouth with too little haste, making her tingle from her head to the tips of her toes in anticipation.

“Jasper,” she muttered in frustration.

He gave a chuckle before touching his lips to hers. His hands remained reverent, only touching her shoulders then skimming up to rest his thumbs on her jaw line. Hettie tilted her head in a bid to press the kiss deeper. For a while, she thought he intended to merely tease her until she flattened herself against him and wrapped her arms about his waist.

He released a sound—a little like that of a wounded animal or something else, she couldn’t be quite sure as her pulse throbbed in her ears. All she knew was that he sounded as frustrated as she felt. His body was so warm and alive, so hard and wonderful. To have it close to hers drove all sense from her. She suspected she could happily remain pressed against all those muscles for eternity. No wonder women flocked to him. Hettie could hardly blame them. One feel of him and all her morals had practically leaped from the hotel window.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

“I am,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Properly.”

Another chuckle. But he did as she bid. This time his tongue met hers. A delightful frisson skipped through her while he sampled her, tentatively at first like someone trying a new flavour of ice cream. He was attempting to be a gentleman of sorts, she realised. Not that a gentleman would kiss an unmarried woman in a hotel room but for Jasper, this could certainly count as gentlemanly behaviour.

She tried not to clamour against him, but it was hard. A deep ache started up between her thighs. A virgin she might be but she wasn’t ignorant as to what it meant. She needed him as a wife needed a husband. She ached for the touch of his fingers between her thighs. Hettie had explored herself plenty of times to know the pleasure her body could bring, but somehow she knew Jasper could do so much more.

“Hettie,” he grunted a warning when the apex of her thighs connected with the arousal she could feel through his trousers. He drew back and eyed her, his hands still firmly cupping her face. “You make it hard to be a gentleman.”

“I did not know you knew how to be one.”

He narrowed his gaze, warning her now was not the time for teasing.

She relented. “Do you have to be a gentleman?”

“Did I not just offer to court you? I know you well enough by now, Hettie, to know that bedding you would not raise me up in your esteem but merely damage it.”

She nodded while the haze of desire began to fade away. “You are right. It is just...”

“Just...?”

“My body aches for you,” she admitted.

He dropped his hands away and her stomach near bottomed out. Had she sounded a fool? She hadn’t really meant to admit as much. Jasper flustered her beyond all reason and made her reckless. In some respects, she liked it, but not when it made her seem foolish.

“I should not have—”

“Hush.”He cut her off by raising a hand then pushing it through his hair. “Never be embarrassed by your needs.” His palms were back against her cheeks, brushing where her cheeks burned with humiliation. “But you have no idea how hard it is to stay in control when you say things like that.”

“I am sorry.”

“No.” He gazed into her eyes. “Do not be sorry for your needs. In spite of what everyone will tell you, particularly your father I should imagine, they are natural.”

“I do know that.”

He eyed her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. “When will you ever cease to stop shocking me, Hettie Foster?” His thumb stroked her cheek absentmindedly while he pondered her. “Do you...touch yourself? Do you know how to bring yourself pleasure?”

She gulped. “Yes.” The word came out a whisper.

“Holy...” His next word came out a whisper too but she heard the coarseness of it. It sent a thrill through her.

Jasper liked the idea of her touching herself. That excited her to no end. The daring, bold Hettie was shaking at the confines of her corset, desperate to be unleashed. She couldn’t give herself to this man—not without marriage—but could she do more...?

He rested his forehead against hers. “Do you want to touch yourself now?”

She nodded against him even as heat flooded her face.

His intake of breath seemed weighted. Jasper drew back and took her hand to guide her to the bed. He coaxed her to lie down, his expression dark and serious. Hettie did as she was bid, never taking her eyes off him. Anticipation swirled in her stomach.

Gradually, he inched her skirts higher. His eyes glinted when he eyed her legs and the tiny slip of visible flesh between her drawers and the silk ties of the stockings.

“Show me,” he demanded, his voice gritty.

With a shaky hand, she found the slit in her drawers and eased her fingers through. He wouldn’t be able to see her most intimate parts but the scandalous nature of what she was doing made her whole body tremble with nerves and excitement. She could hardly believe that she, Hettie Foster, was lying on a hotel bed with Jasper Cynfell while touching herself.

She felt the familiar heat and dampness of herself. When she found her nub, a tingle raced through her. She couldn’t recall ever being this aroused when doing this by herself. Jasper’s sound of appreciation merely enhanced the sensations while she explored her body.

“Hettie...Christ...” His gaze remained on the spot where her hand vanished into her undergarments. “I want to touch you.”

She stilled her movements.

“I will not if you do not—”

“I want you to.” The words came out in a rush before she could change her mind. After all, what would a little touching harm? She would remain a virgin even if he touched her. And how could something that felt so good be wrong?

Hettie withdrew her hand and closed her eyes. Part of her longed to watch, part of her knew deep down how naughty she was being. She wasn’t a widow or a fallen woman. She was the polite, well-behaved daughter of a vicar. No one would expect such behaviour from her.

And yet she could not help revel in it. She felt so wild and free from restriction.

“Oh!” Hettie’s lids flew open.

Jasper might have been cautious before but once his fingers connected with her flesh, there was no holding him back. He moved his hand with perfect expertise. She supposed jealousy ought to ring through her at the idea of where he’d learned such skills but the pleasure swept her away before she could recall why she should be jealous. And from the way he looked at her, she couldn’t fail to feel like the only woman in the world.

Hettie gripped the pillow at either side of her head and rolled her hips in time with his movements. He released harsh breaths and she finally noted that he had undone his trousers and slipped a hand inside them. She wanted to see more really but could not find the words to demand as much, nor the courage. Another time perhaps.

He worked them both to their peak. The thought of him gaining pleasure from this experience only made it more extreme. She watched the movement of his hand in his trousers, catching the occasional glimpse of his arousal—a sight that intrigued and overwhelmed. Her body tightened and he worked her bud vigorously.

“That’s it, my girl,” he urged through clenched teeth.

My girl.
Oh, how that thrilled her. Grip tight on the pillow, the ecstasy reached its peak. Her thighs vibrated at the intensity of it and she clenched her eyes tightly shut. It crested and spilled through her, sending waves of heat and pleasure from head to toe until she thought she would die from it. As it finally ebbed, she drew open her eyes.

Through a haze of lethargy, she watched his face contort in pleasure. He snatched her hand and curled it around his shaft. She released a surprised cry at the feel of that taut flesh and the way he worked her hand up and down him. Now Hettie had a fine view of his manhood and she couldn’t help marvel at it.

He uttered her name and moved her hand in several vigorous thrusts before spilling. Hot seed hit the back of her hand and his trousers. Hettie admired the sight, then the vulnerability stamped on his face while he worked through his orgasm. He eased her hand up and down him a few more slow, gentle times before releasing it.

“Forgive me.” He sounded weary and regretful as he fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.

She wiped off her hand and handed it back to him while offering a gentle smile.“I don’t think you need forgiveness, Jasper. After all, I demanded pleasure from you. It was only right that I return the favour.”