The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (31 page)

“Stop thinking,” she whispered.

“Hush.” Gideon found a new source of passion. His thumb circled the hard point of her breast through the fabric of her nightgown as her breath wilted in a sigh. He rolled her beneath him in one swift move, twisting the blankets about them, placing one of his thighs between her soft legs. He spread her below him and she whimpered. He shifted achingly slowly, settling his heavier points into her supple curves. With one hand on her hip he moved the other to her nape, gently caressing the hollow below her ear with his thumb.

She opened her mouth to him and he took, plunging into her, tasting the satiny inside of her lips and the slick underside of her tongue, feeling a powerful shudder wrack her body from her head to her toes. He suckled her lower lip, tasting the essence of the drunken pears from tonight’s dinner, which even now lingered. He drew her lip between his, teasing it with his tongue before letting it go then licking and nipping at the other. He felt her hands on his back, the pressure of her touch making him aware of his muscles twisting beneath his naked skin.

He shifted against her, the hardness of his body settling further into her pliable form. Moving his hand from her hip, he skimmed across her belly and up the center of her body between her breasts, pausing to feel the flutter of her heart as she arched into him, digging her nails into his shoulders. He winced and leaned up on one elbow, keeping his hand on her chest as he looked down into the darkness that enveloped her. He wanted desperately to see her. He imagined her silky skin shimmering in the moonlight, and the thought caused him to press his hips into her involuntarily.
Blasted curtains!
he thought, with a deep-seated moan. He preferred to sleep in total darkness, not waking until Ferry came to open the folds to the morning light. He never thought the darkness would bestow him such disadvantage.

Grasping both sides of her head as he balanced over her, he took her mouth again.

Her mind centered on the hard shaft that stroked her sensitized skin through the fabric. As Gideon moved he kissed her cheeks, eyelids, and forehead, drawing a path of heat over her face with a long slow burn that made her gasp for air.

He pushed his fingers into her hair, holding her head back as he trailed kiss after kiss down her jaw. With his tongue he lit a fire down the curve of her neck until he found the hollow at the base of her throat, where he rested his lips, quietly groaning against her, pausing for what seemed an interminable expanse of moments. His entire body tensed in check.

“Francine, I am very much past the point where I can rationalize,” he growled, the vibration of his baritone resonating through his chest and sinking into hers, firming her nipples. “You either need to find your way out of my bed, or I will find my way into you.”

She felt the blood rush to her head at the delivery of that sentence and nearly balked. His strength, which currently surrounded her, was evident and a bit overwhelming. She felt every muscle wrapping his bones and pressing into her, the length of every band held at bay over her. She had never felt so fragile in all her life. But then—
Doesn’t he realize this is why I’m here?

Her response was to bend the leg not caught beneath him, wrapping it around his waist, urging him on. His hardness inched closer and closer to where it was made to be, and every increment brought the cadence of her heart to a stronger rhythm.
This is it
, she thought.
Finally, tonight, right now, this is it.
The warmth of his breath against her neck loosened the muscles of her throat, forcing a sound of carnal ecstasy to escape her lips.

She moaned that final plea and his senses unraveled. Rising above her, he kicked their legs free of the blankets and reached down with one hand, dragging the hem of her nightgown up until his knuckles rested against her exposed knee. He breathed deeply of the scent caught in the hollow of her neck.

His hand traced her knee to the crease that led around the back, into the softest skin of her leg. He trailed his calloused fingers up her thigh, drawing her leg up slowly as the nightgown slid on his forearm.

“Gideon,” she said, almost
sotto voce
. It drove him.

“Again,” he said gruffly. “Say my name. Again.”

“Ahh, Gideon!” It left her lips in a cry that caught as he reached the crease just below the soft roundness of her buttocks.

He pushed his fingers between her legs and she was wet—
for
him
. Drenched in passion
for him
. He held a triumphant smile in the darkness as she gasped again and her hands flew to his shoulders, pressing him back slightly, sobering him as another, smaller cry escaped her lips. With great difficulty he raised himself on his elbow, releasing her hair and bringing his hand away from her womanhood.

She clenched his shoulders. “No, please, please, please, Gideon. Don’t stop,” she breathed. She gasped sharply as he carefully placed his hand on the side of her hip and stroked the juncture between leg and belly with his thumb. Her body started to tremble at his pause and withdrawal.

Gideon thought about what he’d learned this night, how she must be terrified of moments like this. How Hepplewort must have taken her by force and how difficult it must have been for her to soften and come to him. “Francine. Sweet, lovely Francine. We should not—”

“No more,” her voice wavered as she whispered. “I am only scared, because—just—don’t stop,” she begged. “I want you, Gideon. I want to feel you inside of me, filling me.”

He was shocked. She ignited a fire that no power on Earth could repress. He felt unbound from his senses, his emotions grazing the surface of his skin, raw and unprotected. His head dropped to her chest as he uttered an agonized sound, his brain wrestling with her fears and his conscience. Slowly, surely, he moved his hand to the triangle of curls at the base of her belly and smoothed them with his fingertips. He felt her thighs open to him instinctively. He turned his head and took one nipple into his mouth, wetting the fabric of her gown with his tongue, teasing with his teeth.

She jerked at the shock of the wet heat, the sensations racing from her breast to her belly, concentrating inside with a tingling pressure that threatened to burst. She opened her eyes wide, straining to see his head bowed over her body through the inky darkness, but she couldn’t. She reached for his disarrayed locks and immediately tangled her fingers, stroking and pulling and pushing, urging his mouth over her breast. He moved to the other, where an equally powerful shock sent her hips thrusting forward into his hand.

His mouth teased at her nipple, gathering the intoxicating threads of energy. She felt his fingers unfurl and shift as his palm flattened against her, and she pushed back. Never in her life had she been closer to another human being. Never in her life had she been so naked, her emotions laid bare. The darkness intensified rather than softened. She felt her entire being on display for him, as though he were reaching in to stroke her very soul.

He slipped farther into her curls, searching to find that which lay protected within. The first touch sent another jolt to her belly as he gently encircled the crux with his thumb, caressing and teasing mercilessly. Her heartbeat quickened against the lips pressed to her chest as his hand slid even farther down, until one finger slowly smoothed through the soft folds, leaving his thumb to stroke the delicate nub.

Oh God.
Oh God.
She could feel the callouses, the hard flesh, the bend of his finger. She closed her eyes and felt. Simply felt. The texture of his hand was so different from everything of her. He moved slowly, practiced, almost perfectly, so steady it was maddening. She squirmed, only to have him restrain her with his weight.

Gideon moaned at the hot wetness enfolding his finger.
How can she still be a virgin?
Even though he couldn’t see, he closed his eyes to concentrate on his other senses. Letting his hands speak to him.
If Hepplewort had his way, certainly she would have been loosened.
He shook his head, panting heavily against the warmth of her flushed skin.
Perhaps she is merely tense from fear
. He stroked her, feeling her saturate with desire until he reached the precipice which he could not sustain without taking her.

“Please.” she said. The word came on a breath.

Soaring down the peak like an eagle in flight, the last vestiges of propriety left his consciousness. He quickly moved his other thigh between hers and spread his legs, pushing her open for him. In the same moment he swept her nightgown up over her head, tugging it free from her arms and flinging it across the room.

He placed one hand at her nape, the other coming to the small of her back. Carefully tilting her pelvis for his intrusion, he kissed her throat with searching, open kisses, breathing deeply as he attempted to control the forward thrust of his hips. Every muscle in his body trembled as he reined his advance.

He felt the head of his manhood encompassed by her folds, and his lips drew back across his teeth, sending a hiss of breath against her neck. His mouth parted against her neck as though to bite her, but he never pressed the sharp edge of his teeth, only the pliable pressure of his lips as he drew against her.

He moved forward slowly—then felt an undeniable resistance. Through the haze of his desire he gradually comprehended the meaning of the barrier and froze in pained abeyance as the reality of the matter set in. He shook his head. His eyes opened wide as he lifted above her, trying desperately to see her through the veil of blackness.

Her eyes flew wide as he began the advance, the pressure intense as her body stretched to accept him. Then she felt the sudden twinge that threatened a searing pain, followed by his nearly imperceptible retreat.
No… No, no,
no
.
She reached down, grasping his hips. Digging her nails into his buttocks, she urged him forward. “Please,” she begged.

He froze. His breath quickened, his entire body tensed, and her nails dragged over his flesh as he pulled back from her, causing Francine to cry out a great sob of defeat.

He rested his hardened member between the soft folds of her womanhood, holding her as she whimpered and attempted to pull away from him, suddenly ashamed. But he held her fast and moved against her slowly, gently, steadying her jagged nerves. Tears welled in her eyes and he crushed his lips to hers. “I’m sorry. I cannot, I simply cannot. I am
very
sorry. Please, Francine, my sweet, you must understand— Just let me,” he panted softly.

She felt the tension gathering again as he moved, and she sank back into the bed, attempting to push him away yet holding on. He slid his hand between their sweat-streaked bodies, one deft finger sinking into her warmth.
Just let him what? Why did he stop? Is it because I’m a virgin? Did he expect more from me? Was I doing something wrong? Am I not good enough?
She shook the web of confused thoughts from her mind, concentrating on the feel of his hand between her legs and his mouth on her own.

He kissed ardent apologies into her lips as his fingers stroked through the petal soft skin, afraid to trespass further, his thumb steadily encircling her center. He started moving against her and her body settled into a rhythm with his, the tempo hastening. Her tangled fingers in his hair nudged his mouth over her breasts and he obliged, disturbing the precarious balance that still held her body in check.

He descended upon one nipple, grasping it between his teeth as he flicked the bud with his tongue. Her body quickened when he drew it into his mouth. He felt the pulsing flesh below tightening, attempting to draw him in.

She relaxed into him, concentrating solely on his hand on her. His mouth on her breast. The hardness of his erection against her pelvis. The taut arm against her side. The heavy thigh between hers. The steady pulse of his attentions, building.

Her senses seemed to break loose from their tethers, wrenching her muscles in spasms as she thrust against him, stroking his erection with her body. He groaned loudly as the pressure between them drew his release without permission, and he spilled his seed across the flesh of her belly.

He collapsed, capturing her cries with his mouth, sealing their breath together in a finishing kiss. He rolled to the side, pulling her with him in a tangled mass of limbs, neither able to move out of the haze of their euphoria. His hands gently roamed the landscape of her body as she drifted quietly, consoled by the power of something she’d never expected.