A Gentleman's Wager (2 page)

‘Lick me, just a little,’ she said in imitation of his earlier words, and rocked her hips in encouragement. ‘Come on, Mark, if you want it, you have to give me something first.’

His groan was muffled, but he obediently thrust his tongue into her. He lapped, twirled and licked at her
until
he’d coaxed her clitoris from its hood. A couple more strokes and she found herself climbing towards orgasm.

That’s it, she thought, as she squirmed over his hot mouth and felt the prickle of his stubble. Her clitoris leapt. Waves of light spirited her skywards. Only his mouth was important. Nothing else mattered: not his needs, or his painful erection – nothing.

Disconnected, panting, floating somewhere close as the afterglow washed through her, Bella was dimly aware of him gently kissing her. His lips softly grazed her swollen mound, almost bringing her back down.

‘Do I get a turn now?’ he asked, his voice still muffled and slightly hoarse.

Bella lifted her buttocks and wriggled down his body so that she captured his cock between her thighs and the ruddy head nuzzled into her wet quim. The thrill she got from it surprised her; her body wanted to welcome him. It would feel so good just to let him slip inside, but making him wait would be even better.

‘Say please,’ she demanded, grasping his hands and pinning him down.

Mark struggled unconvincingly. He could easily have broken free, but chose not to. Instead, he lifted himself towards her in a wordless plea.

‘Say it or you’ll get nothing.’

He clamped his mouth closed and shook his head from side to side. Bella smiled. She rolled her hips so that her outer lips rubbed along the length of his shaft, ready to engulf him. She’d already made him shiny with her dew. Fresh beads of moisture peppered his upper lip. She licked at them and stared down into his eyes.

‘Oh, God!’ he gasped. ‘All right … please!’

She took hold of his cock, briefly releasing his hands in order to guide him inside, and then held him down
again
. Mark panted and struggled. He lifted himself, wanting her, driving into her. On top and in control, Bella rode him hard, taking all the pleasure she could from his stiff cock. Their bodies slapped together; his balls rubbed against her bottom. Her tongue slid into his mouth as their motion became more frenzied.

Bella’s sex was all of a tingle. She was climbing again, but she knew she wouldn’t get there in time. She’d already put his stamina to the test.

Mark gave a dry gasp. Bella felt his penis twitch, then pulse with life. His spine flexed and he groaned as if he’d been hit. She gripped him tightly with every muscle in her body and willed it to last just one minute more, even as it ended. For a moment, they lay very still. Then he pushed her off, wiped his spent cock on his rumpled shirt, and tucked the linen back into his breeches. When she didn’t move, he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

‘We should leave, before whoever it was comes back.’

‘You go,’ said Bella with a heavy heart. Whenever she was eager for more, men always wanted to give up, and frequently they just wanted to roll over and sleep.

Mark frowned. ‘We should both go.’

‘No, you go. Take the horses. I’ll follow on foot.’

It was a half-dozen miles back home to Wyndfell Grange and, although his lips thinned, a sure sign that he was unhappy, he didn’t argue. Without another word, he slipped away.

She must have dozed off, Bella realised on waking some time later. The sun was still hot and strong above. She wiped the perspiration from her brow with a grimy hand and listened for voices.

The grounds were quiet. Bella slipped out of the willow cave and headed down the slope of the deserted
lawn
to the path by the river. As she strolled idly along the leafy track a few moments later, the men had become indefinite, as illusory as her dreams. That was until she almost ran into Lucerne.

Viscount Marlinscar was stooped behind the bushes, rinsing his hands in the stream. The other man was nowhere in sight. Bella dropped to the ground, and scurried into the foliage of the rhododendrons. A reprimand for trespassing was not how she had envisioned her introduction to him. Thankfully, he didn’t notice her sudden motion. It seemed her best option was to wait here until he left. In the meantime, she could get a closer look at him.

Bella flattened herself against the damp ground and wriggled forwards. With her cheek pressed to the earth, she had a reasonably clear view of him sitting on the river-bank. He’d hung his coat over a branch and, as she waited, he lifted his loose white shirt over his head, stood and removed his breeches.

Bella blinked then gaped at his bare bottom. A warm glow of desire washed over her as her breath caught. Once she’d recovered from the shock, she realised that not only was he wealthy and fashionable, he was also attractive, something of a rare combination. Mostly, men of any standing or taste seemed unaccountably saddled with gout or else had two chins or none at all. Not so Lucerne Marlinscar: he was by comparison touched with angelic features, though undoubtedly far from angelic by nature.

Lucerne dropped into the river.

While he dipped below the water, Bella wriggled a little closer, eager for a better view. Despite the niggling doubts in her head about invading his privacy, her response was one of rapt fascination. His lack of modesty
delighted
her. Here was a man who wasn’t afraid of his body, who paid no heed to convention.

Deep inside her, the spark of her thwarted orgasm rekindled. Moisture welled between her thighs, and she clamped her legs together. However, instead of reducing her need, the strain only fuelled it. She closed her eyes and could almost feel him beneath her fingertips: hot to the touch, his body heat great enough to evaporate the gleaming beads of moisture left from his swim. His skin was silky smooth, soft against her own. She gasped in anticipation and opened her eyes.

Lucerne looked up, straight ahead to where she lay. A flicker of ice passed through his deep-blue eyes. Convinced she’d been seen, Bella shuffled backwards while her stomach did a triple jump. She lay still for what felt like eternity.

He had seen her, hadn’t he?

It was time she went, Bella realised, coming to her senses. He obviously hadn’t seen her. Reluctantly, for she was still drawn to him, she stood and began to dust herself off. A few too many twigs and her brother Joshua would ask questions. She was all ready to sneak away and force a path through the rhododendrons when a splash turned her head back to the water.

Lucerne emerged from the stream, glittering like the morning dew on the grass. Upright and completely naked before her, he paused to tilt his head to the sun, and run his hands through his tangled hair.

Oh, yes! Oh, my!

Bella had to fight the crazy urge to undress and join him. All thoughts of departing vanished from her head. Mesmerised, she watched the water trickle down his body. His front was every bit as pleasing as his bottom had been. Long-limbed and lean, lightly muscled across
the
chest, hairless except for a thin golden line that trailed down from his navel to his groin, he was like the statue of David, and everything Bella admired most.

Her focus narrowed down to one silvered droplet. She followed its winding downward journey as it traversed his abdomen, snaked across his hipbone and finally came to rest on his thigh. Bella stood open-mouthed, frozen like the statues of the fauns, but feeling unbearably hot. She hardly dared look, too terrified she’d be unable to contain a gasp of delight, but she was powerless to stop herself. Her gaze shifted slowly sideways from where the droplet rested to the dangling weight of his manhood, although dangling wasn’t quite what it was doing. The contrasting temperatures of the lazy afternoon sun and the cold water had done more than wash the toils of the day away. He stood glowing and half-erect.

Apparently unaware of or unconcerned by his condition, Lucerne waded along the bank through the thick grass. Bella followed behind the treeline, drawn to him by an invisible thread. A few paces on he settled among the rushes and disappeared from sight.

‘No! No, no, no!’

Bella looked around in frustration, seeking a vantage point. To her right stood a gnarled yew tree, with comfortable lower branches in which she could perch. She scrambled into its boughs with her skirts hitched to her knees, grazing her shins on the way up.

The view was perfect.

Lucerne lay sprawled out with his eyes closed, letting the sun dry his skin. One hand was combing through his short hair, while the other travelled an erotic, unhesitant path down his body, over his chest and across the flat plane of his stomach to his groin, where a sizeable erection lay. His penis, pale and perfect, splashed with
blue
veins, curved slightly to the left. The tip, to which he pressed a finger, was flushed deep plum.

Bella’s mouth watered. Her body hungered for him. Fascinated by every movement and eager for more revelations, she watched him touch himself. His hand worked while he writhed luxuriously against the grass as if it were soft silk. His handsome face twitched with longing. Soon his movements became more focused.

Bella stifled her desire to go to him by biting her lip. Unconsciously she rocked herself back and forth against the branch. To touch his pale skin, tangle her fingers in the knots of his hair, were her only thoughts. Lucerne was everything. Not even the wren chirping above her head caught her attention. She wanted to come with him, but her balance was too precarious.

Lucerne reached climax with a deep groan, and painted a sticky fountain over the nearby grass. In the afterglow, his hands came back to his head and he relaxed, letting his erection slowly fade. He turned his head to one side and opened his eyes.

‘What in hell?’ Lucerne jerked upright, his gaze fixed on Bella perched in the tree.

Panicked, Bella came crashing down. Regaining her wits faster than him, she dashed from the underlying bush while he stared after her dumbfounded.

‘Jesus! Hellfire and damnation!’ she cursed. In a straight race, he would easily catch her, and that could only mean trouble. Her only hope was to weave a path through the tangled web of rhododendrons to the drive. It was unlikely that he knew the grounds as well as her.

Back on the main path, Bella sprinted down the final stretch of canopied pathway, her thighs chafing badly to remind her of the earlier race. Only when she was safely through the gates did she stop running.

She held on to the wrought iron, panting, her breath dry and heavy in her lungs. At the far end of the avenue, having given up his pursuit, Lucerne Marlinscar watched her.

Bella turned her back on him and walked away.

‘LOUISA!’ BELLA SCREAMED
and ran towards her friend, her feet crunching noisily on the gravel drive of Wyndfell Grange.

Louisa Stanley dropped her vanity case and opened her arms to greet her. ‘Bella,’ she said. ‘I’m so glad I’m here. The coach was stifling and I had to sit opposite the same gouty reverend the whole way here.’

Bella grimaced sympathetically. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, then clasped Louisa in a bear hug. It was two years since they’d last seen each other and Bella had been looking forward to having her friend to stay for the winter. Louisa gasped, and her warm breath buffeted Bella’s cheek. ‘No exciting adventures with ghosts or highwaymen to share, then?’ Bella’s gaze flickered eagerly over her friend’s pale face but Louisa shook her head.

‘Um, no. Afraid not.’

Unchecked by the admission, Bella’s smile grew wider as Louisa’s trunk was lifted from the carriage. ‘Never mind. You’re here now and I’ve loads to tell you. Lauwine is occupied again. Can you believe it?’ She gave a small laugh. ‘Viscount Marlinscar has taken residence and, oh, God–’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘–Joshua’s invited him and a friend of his to lunch tomorrow. They called yesterday to formally introduce themselves, but I was out visiting Mrs Castleton.’

‘Why the whisper?’

Bella shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you upstairs. Come on.’
She
snatched up Louisa’s vanity case and tugged her towards the front door.

In the guest-room, Bella sank into the mattress of the old bed and fingered the heavy embroidered drapes as she watched Louisa unpack. Two years of life in the capital had greatly changed her friend. She’d always been delicate, but London had washed the colour from her cheeks and turned her into a porcelain doll dressed in satin, velvet and lace. Bella wrinkled her nose at the vibrant yellow dress Louisa had lifted from her trunk.

‘I know – you hate it,’ Louisa said before Bella had a chance to comment. ‘But it’s the fashion, and my aunt insisted. I suppose you’re still living in your riding-habit.’

Bella stroked her hand over her plum velvet outfit. The slightly worn pile was familiar to the touch and becoming a little shabby. She’d had it especially made to resemble a man’s frock coat, and it was her favourite even if it was nearly five years old.

‘Not all the time.’

‘Just most of it.’ They shared a smile and two years fell away, as if this was an ordinary conversation on an ordinary day before Louisa’s brother had died. After that, she’d been forced to leave Yorkshire to live with her aunt. Bella, who had never been out of North Riding, sometimes dreamed of seeing the capital.

‘So will you tell me why you’re at odds about Viscount Marlinscar, or do I have to guess?’ asked Louisa. She lifted another dress from her trunk. This one was a more tasteful shade of lilac. Holding both gowns, she opened the closet and sneezed as dust and the smell of mothballs wafted into the room. On the bed, Bella merely wrinkled her nose at the reek of camphor. She leaned across to a drawer and took out a beribboned lavender bag.

‘You won’t like it,’ she said, as she passed Louisa the perfumed sack.

Louisa knotted the ribbon around one of the hangers. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. Did you meet him at a party?’

A party. Bella hadn’t been to one in ages, whereas Lucerne was probably invited to dinner every night. Why hadn’t Joshua invited him on an evening when everyone was more relaxed, instead of during the day?