The Reluctant Marquess (16 page)

They had only made love once, and although every part of it was etched on her memory, she felt as if this was the first time.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Robert abandoned all pretense and snatched her up in his arms. He sought her mouth in an urgent kiss. Caught up in the excitement and the months of longing, Charity ran her fingers through his silky hair as his tongue plundered her mouth, their rasping breaths loud in the room. They separated to tear off their clothes. She undid the buttons on her gown, as he stripped off his shirt. Stepping out of the pool of fabric at her feet she kicked it aside. The sight of his splendid physique made her thighs tremble. She shivered at the touch of his quick fingers unlacing her corset. It fell to the floor along with her panniers. His hands slipped round to cup her breasts through the thin material of her shift, then he pulled it over her head.

“You’re beautiful, Charity,” he said his voice husky.

She stood proudly naked apart from her stockings, garters and shoes. He undid the buttons of his breeches tented by his erection and they joined the pile on the floor.

A burning heat in her belly, she admired his strong manly beauty, the long line of thigh and the curve of his backside, muscles rippling across his back at each movement. No trace remained of the invalid beyond the puckered red scar on his shoulder hidden by the bandage.

She had to touch him and ran her hand over his broad chest. “You don’t have much chest hair. I like that.”

His eyes gleamed, a mix of humor and suspicion.

“Compared to whom?”

She laughed. “I saw my father’s chest once, that’s all.”

He held her hand moving it across his chest. “Do you like the feel of a smooth chest?”

She took a deep breath. “Oh, yes.” She was startled when he moved her hand lower and she felt the soft black hair growing from below his navel down to … She blushed and pulled her hand away, wanting to touch him. “Don’t you wear anything under your breeches?” she asked to cover her embarrassment.

“Not when my plan is to seduce you.” Robert grinned and pulled the shift over her head, then kneeled at her feet to remove her shoes, peel off her pink satin garters, then her silk stockings, almost shredding them in his haste. Clasping her velvety bottom, he pulled her closer, finding himself at just the right angle to kiss the juncture of her thighs.

“Oh!” Hands to her mouth, Charity attempted to back away, but he held her close. It delighted him that she tasted of fragrant soap and woman, and he teased the folds of her delicate peachy skin with his tongue. Her knees buckled and she emitted little cries, holding onto his shoulders. “Oh, Robert,” she whispered, “Take me to bed.”

“My pleasure, my love.” He rose and they stood naked for a brief, incredibly erotic moment, and then came together flesh to hot flesh, burning where they touched. He swept her up and carried her to the bed.

Charity murmured half-heartedly for him to put her down, but stopped at the determination in his eyes. Feeling his strong, hard body against hers, she let her worries go and coiled her arms around his neck. His longing matched her own feelings.

Both had suffered pent-up desire from months apart and the unfinished business between them.

He gently laid her down.

Robert leaned over her on the bed, his arms braced, his gaze feasting on the beauty of the woman he’d come to love dearly.

So long denied this pleasure, their coupling would be fierce. His blood thrummed through his body, demanding, banishing the ever-present-ache in his shoulder. Their first time was too brief.

He was determined to have Charity enjoy every moment of their lovemaking. He lowered his head and sought her lush, swollen lips, his tender kisses turning wildly passionate as she curled her arms around him.

He nuzzled a small ear and kissed his way down her long graceful neck to the hollow in her throat, then her breasts, feeling the weight of each in his hands and paying close attention to a dusky-rimmed nipple until it peaked. He turned his ministrations to the other, loving her small mews of pleasure.

When he parted her legs and returned to stroke her there, Charity squirmed aware of how wet she’d become. Ignoring her protestations, he continued until she thought she would die from the waves of exquisite sensation. His fingers probed inside her, his thumb teasing that small nub of intense feeling until she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a loud sigh which turned into a moan and then a plea. Growing bolder, she took his erection in her hands and stroked the length of it, marveling at how it grew even harder beneath her fingers. The blushed skin was silky smooth beneath her fingers, yet rigid beneath. She fondled the head and the soft sacs beneath. How strange and how different from a woman’s body, and yet how perfect.

He made a noise deep in his throat. “If you keep doing that I’ll spend,” he said tightly, moving her hand away. He gave a strained grin. “Another time, my love.”

She couldn’t wait any longer to have him inside her, and knew he couldn’t either. She gasped, “I want you now, Robert!”

“Why?” he asked teasingly, kissing and licking his way down her body, making her moan.

She ran her fingers through his thick hair and gave it an impatient tug. “Because I love you.”

He gave her a lazy grin. “And I love you.” She looked ready to hit him.

“Darling, please!”

“You are ready for me?”

Charity gave a sob. “Yes, my darling, yes.”

Robert entered her with one swift stroke, thrusting into her hard and fast. Charity lifted her hips to meet him with each thrust. Incoherent words tumbled from her lips, as she raked his back with her fingers. The bed banged against the wall. A painting crashed down from its perch.

“I love you, Charity,” Robert said fiercely, thanking God he was alive to say it.

He settled into a smooth rhythm enjoying the feel of her breasts rubbing against his chest, her thighs hugging him close and her small mews of pleasure. Her body felt warm and welcoming. This was where he was meant to be and his heart burgeoned with love.

A sudden sharp pain stabbed at Robert’s shoulder, and drew an involuntary curse from him. He paused and swallowed at the force of it.

“What is it darling?” She took his face in her hands, her voice fearful. “Have you hurt yourself?”

“No. It’s nothing, just a bit of discomfort.”

“We must stop.”

“Stop?” He would not be denied and neither would she.

Distress rumpled her brow and her mouth trembled with alarm and disappointment. “Oh no we won’t.” The demanding throb in Robert’s balls distracted him more than the ache in his shoulder.

“Might we try something else, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Anything.”

He pulled himself back against the headboard and lifted her over him. One long, perfumed lock of her hair curled over her shoulder, falling to the gentle rise of her belly. He raised it to his nose and breathed in its fragrance then tucked it back over her shoulder.

He wanted to see all of her, the emotions flitting across her lovely face, the curve of her bouncing, beautiful breasts and her long legs. He guided himself inside returning to the slick, wet warmth with a groan of delight.

“Oh ... that feels ...” Charity gasped as he took hold of her bottom and thrust up hard, loving every inch of her.

The sensation was devastatingly wonderful. Charity threw back her head as she felt herself sliding into heaven and chewed her bottom lip to bite off a scream.

“Not yet, my love,” Robert said, his breath coming in gasps.

“Touch yourself.”

“Oh, no,” Charity giggled.

He took her hand and placed it there.

Blushing furiously, Charity caressed the sensitive nub as he moved within her. It tightened and throbbed beneath her fingers and produced such waves of pleasure that she lost all sense of where she was. She could only see Robert’s dear face as she cast off all decorum and screamed.

Robert delighted in her total abandonment. “Good girl,” he uttered through clenched teeth.

A few minutes later, he gave a loud groan and pulled away, panting. Charity kissed his chest, tasting salt and clean sweat. She fell back feeling deliciously languid, almost boneless. Between her legs throbbed pleasantly. Robert tucked his hand there and nestled his face against her curls at her neck. They lay quietly until their breathing eased.

Charity sat up. “Does your shoulder hurt?”

He stroked a lazy hand over her back. “No, darling.” He wasn’t about to admit that it ached like the very devil.

She gazed at the broken frame lying on the floor. It was a painting of a very unhappy looking man and woman.

“I don’t like that Hogarth much anyway,” Robert said, drawing her down to kiss the delicious curve between her neck and shoulder. “One of his Marriage à-la-mode works.” He moved on to a nipple which firmed under his tongue. “A satirical look at arranged marriages, which he obviously didn’t believe were successful.” He drew back to look at her, his gaze frank. “Some are though, are they not? Very good, in fact.” He gave a gentle bite to the nipple, sending a delicious shiver through her.

Charity gave a breathy giggle.

After a wet autumn, and the following winter had been dry and surprisingly mild. Robert and Charity had spent it in long walks through the woods with Felix and in the library. She read a book by the fire, while Robert sorted through paperwork at his desk. Although he now had a secretary, a Mr Grey, and more staff, he stilled involved himself in the businesses. Charity could see he enjoyed it, and obviously had more aptitude than his uncle, for the businesses ran smoothly. Even the poetry factory was flourishing under his attention.

Today the sun was warmer, and there were signs of spring in the soft green buds appearing on the bare branches of the trees. Daffodils and crocuses pushed their heads through the earth. Charity turned from her rocky perch at the water’s edge, where she searched for driftwood along with Felix who was sniffing at some small crustacean, to check on Robert as he sat on the lawn in a chair, reading The Tatler.

He had rarely complained about his enforced convalescence except when banned from riding, and grumbled about reading news after it was a month old. He was so much better, having recovered from the wound far quicker than the doctor forecast, but that doctor was a dour fellow. She would arrange for a new doctor to attend her when her time came. She put her hand to her rounded belly; soon she would feel the baby move. Life was so wonderful. She had been surprised and grateful when Robert agreed to spend time here and showed no inclination to rush back to London. He would have to go eventually, they both knew, for he must take his place in Parliament.

Charity did not mind the thought of returning to London. Now she was happy she welcomed the chance to see her friends again. Robert wished her to accompany him when he travelled, and sought her advice about the pottery factory.

Robert even invited his mother to visit. She, Clare and Frederick had spent a pleasant sennight with them and would return for the christening. Merry was also with child. She and her new husband planned to visit when they could. The house would be filled with members of the family. How much Charity looked forward to it.

She smiled and picked up an interesting piece of flotsam. Tossing it away, she bent to another. Robert had changed so much.

She didn’t think it was just that he came so close to death, more that he’d come to terms with the issues in the past that tormented him. None of his fiery passion had disappeared from the bedchamber, however. She shivered with delight. He looked up to watch her as she walked towards him, and she wondered if he read her thoughts.

This condition seemed to make all her senses alert, she was aware of the salt-laden breeze stroking her face, the smell of damp leaves on the ground, the rustle of her petticoats against her legs as she walked. Her body pulsed with life. Did her need for him show on her face? Would he continue to desire her?

Surely not when she grew as large as Mary, the farmer’s wife, who still delivered the milk even though her time was near. She chewed on her lip.

“Do you know what that does to me?” he asked when she reached his side. “Nibbling that plump bottom lip of yours?”

She stroked a hand over his shoulder to the nape of his neck. She couldn’t be near and not touch him. “No. What does it do to you?” He skirted an arm around her hips and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Perhaps you know now?”

Charity felt him hard against her derrière and giggled. She struggled to rise, but he held her fast. “Robert! The servants will see us.”

“Then come to the bedchamber.”

“You can’t still desire me in this state.” She put her hand on her stomach. “I seem to have filled out in the last few days!”

He tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “You are even more lovely now, Charity. Your hair is lustrous, your eyes bright, your peachy skin so soft …” His hand lightly grazed her breasts, swollen and straining against the fabric of her gown. “If you don’t come with me now, I shall disgrace us both.”

She pouted. “Then I must come, I suppose. And I did plan to find another piece of driftwood before dusk.” She gave him an impish smile as she climbed off his lap and was smacked on the derrière for her pains.

“I declare you are a tease, wife.” His newspaper fluttered onto the ground as he rose and drew her away, out of sight of the house behind the broad, nubby trunk of an aged oak. He tilted her chin up, his eyes turning smoky as they did when he desired her. “You want me too. Say it.” He ran a finger over her bottom lip and bent to kiss it, ending with a small bite. “Say it,” he whispered, his fingers working to free her hair, his body urgent and hard against her.

“Oh yes, Robert, I do. I love you so.”

With one eye on a servant sweeping the path, he took her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

Charity squirmed out of his grasp. She straightened her bodice. “My lord, please behave. I declare I shall never make a marquess out of you.”

Robert gave a loud hoot of lau
ghter.