Trusting the Rogue (6 page)

“Good evening, governor,” the driver called, as he pulled away from the kerb. Andrew had only offered Hannah’s address and had paid the driver, thinking he could negotiate his travel once he’d assisted her home—though, it seemed, he need not worry at this point.

He watched the outline of her features from the corner of his eye while they proceeded to her door. Her butler appeared before they reached it.

“Good evening, your Grace. Is there news regarding Lady Anna?” he asked on a bow.

“Indeed, Morris. They welcomed twins, a boy and a girl. All are quite well.”

The butler nodded, pleased. “The staff will be happy to hear it.”

“Um, yes. I am sure they will,” she said. Andrew watched her gnaw on her bottom lip.

“Do you require anything further?” her butler asked, offering Andrew a curious glance.

“Um, no. Thank you, Morris. That will be all. Please feel free to retire for the evening.”

The man blinked once, then nodded. He took Andrew’s jacket and hat and placed them on a small side table as he departed the room.

Hannah moved her hand back to Andrew’s arm, before she laid her palm in his. She raised her gaze to meet his, but said nothing. Only her curious eyes—eyes that seemed filled with questions—stared back at him.

He wanted to speak questions of his own, but ruining what he longed for—something he’d wished might grace him but had never dreamed of, which might be happening with her at that moment—was not something he was willing to risk. Was she offering what he thought she was?

She tightened her hand around his and Andrew felt his lips lifting slightly in a pleased tilt, in a way he hoped was also reassuring. Hannah took a deep breath and turned, leading him up the stairs, taking him willingly along with her.

On the second level, she paused at a slightly ajar door. Hannah toed the door open and stepped inside the room, dropping his hand in the process.

A small lantern glowed dimly on the side table. Hannah approached the bed. Harold lay in the centre of the undersized bed, his sheets kicked down in disarray. His chubby little cheeks pushed in and out as his mouth worked about his thumb. His arm was curled around a well-loved puppy doll.

Hannah pulled up the boy’s sheets, covering him before she leant down, brushing away a fallen curl from his forehead. The child sighed and rolled over, taking his puppy and sheets with him again.

A mother’s love—the same look he had seen on Anna’s face as she had held her new children—showed on Hannah’s at that moment. It warmed him in a way he had never thought possible.

He stepped forward and placed an arm around her waist as he moved up behind her, aligning his body with hers. She stiffened for a moment before she leant back into him, her head resting for a moment on his shoulder as they simply watched her son sleep.

Andrew could not say how long they stood there, but after some time she shifted her hand to his where it rested over the flat of her belly, taking it in her own. Hannah led them out, leaving the heavy wooden door ajar, as it had been when they had come upon it, then proceeded down the hall.

A lamp sat just inside the final door on the right. Soft yellows and flowers decorated the room upon a quick inspection, but it was the large four-poster bed in its centre that dominated the room and his attention.

Hannah turned once they were inside, and dropped his hand to clutch hers before her. Her gaze dropped to the ground for a moment before she looked up at him. Vulnerability shone brightly in her eyes. It pained him to see it on her exquisite features.

He pushed the door closed behind him. The latch, as it clicked closed, sounded loud in the quiet room. The gentle crackling of the grated fire was all he could hear.

“Did you mean it?” she asked softly.

“Mean what?”

“Pleasure. You can show it to me?”

His heart stopped for a moment, only to kick back with double force. “I did.”

She offered a slow nod, her gaze flicking to the lamp beside him. “Turn it off.”

“The lamp?”

She nodded.

“I want to see you, Hannah. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them. “Please.”

He frowned, but he turned and did as she’d requested.
One step at a time
, he reminded himself.

Darkness hit them suddenly when he turned down the flame. The quarter moon was out and, while it illuminated little, it was enough for him to see her, make her out in the shadows. She had not moved.

Andrew walked forward, stopping a breath before her. He made no move to touch her, for, once he did, he knew he would not be able to stop.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Hannah?” he asked, hoping very much that it was. It would pain him to walk away from her, away from the future his mind was attempting to carve. How could it be? How could he have gone from being tired of women—their games and mindless drivel—to
this
woman, one who challenged him and played on his mind regardless of day or night?

“I want to feel the way I do when you touch me,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and leant forward, his breath coming against the barrier of her collarbone. Her breathing deepened, raising her hand to his shoulder, her delicate fingers clenching him in anticipation of what was to come.

“And how do I make you feel, Hannah?” he said into the hollow at the base of her throat.

“Free,” she murmured, before he allowed his tongue to lick along the indent of her neck and shoulder. “Pleasure,” she uttered as he finally permitted himself to move his hand to her waist, shaping her broad hips before it travelled to her rear. “Desired.”

Andrew paused, a soft growl emerging from his lips. How she had been wronged. There was not a woman on this earth he wanted more than her. “You are desired more than you know. Never doubt it,” he said. His kisses shifted along her soft, flawless skin, down to the mounds of her breasts. He let his lips wander over the softness, mapping the curves with his breath, enjoying her soft moans and how her body leaned into his barely there touch.

He walked around her, allowing his hands to shape her body, exploring her through the many layers of her clothing. Those needed to go. It was dark, and while he could see shadows, the ties of a dress were delicate and could not be rushed. That thought too spoke of the woman now before him—Andrew realised for once in his life, he was in no hurry for self-gratification. Oh, he wanted her—uncontrollably so—but he would savour her, pleasure her. There would not be a moment wasted this night.

While he moved the fingers of one hand to her buttons, he mapped her body with the others, lingering in contact with her skin as he found flesh exposed by her sagging gown. She leaned deeper into him, the little sounds emerging from her lips fuelling the fire within him, moment by moment.

Soon the dress had pooled at her feet.
One layer gone, yet more to go.
The ties of her corset slowly released at the sure command of his fingers. The boned garment sagged about her before he pushed it down. Her thin shift followed before her naked back was exposed to him.

He moved the tips of his fingers to the lower curve of her back, just above the crease of her rounded bottom. He ran them leisurely up the arch of her smooth spine, fascinated by the texture, softness and sweet smell of her clean skin.

Was there nothing about her that he did not find divine?

Her hair was pinned high upon her head. He wanted it free, to feel its texture. Though the darkness deprived him of the ability to observe her pleasure, he would allow all his other senses full view, to witness her beauty and marvel at its loveliness.

One by one, he plucked the pins free, one hand still roaming over her delicate flesh. He slid his fingers along the gentle ripple of her ribs to her side until he reached the plump softness of her breasts. Her breathing stalled, as did his hand, before he moved it along the underside of the softness. Her breath soon turned choppy, her chest rising and falling. He allowed his knuckles to gently graze the hardened tips of her nipples, but offered her no more.
Not yet.

The smooth strands upon her head were now free, the discarded pins lining the floor. It was his turn.

Moving around her, Andrew stood before her naked form. He needed her the way he needed air. Without her, it felt as if he would cease to exist.

He untied the cravat about his neck, then allowed it to drop. He moved his fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat, before he shrugged it off, his gaze fixed on Hannah’s shadowed features. He knew she observed his movements—her breathing deepened as each piece of clothing hit the floor beneath them, as his shirt did a moment later.

Andrew reached for her then, curving his hands about her hips as she took a step towards him. She pressed into him, her softness melting against the firmness of his body, his cock stiff between them. Warmth filled him as he felt her against him—it was right. It was where she belonged.

He could hold back no longer. He would have her, claim her as his. Show her pleasure, joy and passion.

Claiming her lips for the first time was a more potent sensation than he had ever expected. The softness as they connected with his own sent a spiral of need through him, a desire to toss her on the bed and to experience passion at its heart, but she was not ready for that. He must treat her as a maiden, a woman green to the art of sex, not a woman ready to experience all the pleasures a man and a woman could create together. Later that would come—he refused to think of any other possibility—but now he would please her, his pleasure coming from hers.

Hannah slid her hands to his chest as their mouths danced, her hesitant touch soon turning stronger, more confident as the moments progressed. Andrew kept his tongue hidden until she embraced his lips with hers, meeting his kiss with her own. Slowly he allowed his tongue to slide across her lips. She hesitated but followed his lead, their tongues twisting in courtship moments later. She was a fast learner.

His hands roamed the curve of her back once more, this time south rather than north. The firm rounds of her rear shaped perfectly in his palms when he tightened his hold on them, bringing her closer to his body. His stiff cock strained against his breeches.

She broke the kiss, moaning a muffled name that he hoped was his, as he backed her towards the bed. She sat down while Andrew went to his knees, tracing his hands over the delicate netting of her stockings before rolling them down and discarding them, along with her slippers.

Hannah shifted back on the bed, laying her head among the pillows while he removed his boots and breeches. He soon stood before her wearing nothing at all, his proud cock pointing in her direction—not that she could see.

Climbing on the bed between her parted thighs, Andrew came to settle above her, casting most of his weight on his arms to her sides. His body called for him to mount her, join with her, but she was not ready. He would savour her some more, nibble on her fine flesh, dine on her beauty.

Lowering his head to the hollow of her throat, Andrew allowed his lips to move over her, morphing her body from the tense mass it had been moments ago to the melted woman who lay under him.

He paid lingering attention to her breasts, smiling against her skin as she arched up into his touch. He offered what he knew she craved—a firmer hand. He could not deny her a single thing. He curved his hands around her lush breasts, then lowered his lips to take the hardened tip of a nipple deep into his mouth. She moaned, her hips pushing high into his as she clasped his head, pulling him closer to her. He rested fully on her, his weight anchoring her to the bed.

Squeezing her breasts once more before he allowed his lips to leave her, he chuckled as she groaned her disappointment. He would rectify that shortly. He caressed her belly button with his tongue before roaming lower still, to the springy curls at her core guarding his next treasure.

Her gasp of surprise made him smile into her folds as he slid his tongue through her slit to circle the nub at the top. Her surprise quickly dissipated and her body relaxed, before she started to squirm—no doubt because of the foreign sensations assaulting her. Andrew wanted to bring her mind-altering pleasure and planned to do it more than just once, but first by his mouth. He did not have to wait long.

Hannah’s moans quickly changed to pants and rambling. “Stop, oh my, more, please, oh!”

His lips curved as he worked faster, sliding his fingers into her as well. He knew her husband has been dead for some time, but the tightness of her core and the way in which she gripped him with such force surprised him. Her husband had not pleasured her as he should have done, and Andrew planned to fix that tenfold. She would know after tonight what true pleasure at a man’s touch was.

He slipped another finger inside her and fanned them out slightly. Her juices made his entry easier, but as her back arched and he sucked deep on her nub, Andrew knew she had reached heaven, her womanhood spasming around his fingers as he stroked her from within.

Moments later, she melted into the mattress, a sigh emerging from her lips. He smiled as he kissed her core goodbye for the moment before he slid between her legs, wiping his mouth on the sheet to the side as he went.

Her breathing had slowed and she lazily moved her hands to him as he rose above her, sliding them down his back. It was a tentative touch and he was hardly sated.

“Oh, my,” she murmured.

He rested his forehead against hers. “Please do not think it is over, my dear. It is merely beginning.”

She paused for a moment. “More?”

He kissed her lips firmly before shifting his attention to her breasts, again shaping them in his palms. “Mmm,” he murmured, flicking the tip of her hardened nipple.

It did not take much for her to clutch his head, her moans filling the room once more, her murmured sighs rich in the air around them.
Oh, what a glorious sound!

He wanted to join with her, show her that sex was more than a painful moment that was undertaken only to gain an heir. It was truly one of life’s pleasures.