A Taste of Sin (6 page)

Christy released a shaky breath. She hadn’t prepared herself for the kind of pervasive intimacy Sinjun demanded. She knew what happened between men and women, how the sex act was accomplished, but what Sinjun wanted was sinful, wicked, unthinkable.

Christy’s relief was short-lived as Sinjun lowered his head and kissed her there, between her legs. She felt a jolt of something so intense it defied description. Then just as quickly he moved his body upward, until he rested fully against her. Breast to breast, thigh to thigh, his staff probing ruthlessly between her legs.

She shifted uncomfortably as he inserted his slick head into her tight passage and pushed relentlessly. She clamped down hard on her tongue to stifle the groan of pain that rose unbidden to her lips. He shoved himself deeper, then suddenly went still, his eyes narrowed, his expression arrested.

“You’re a virgin!”

She knew he’d notice. A man of Sinjun’s experience would know everything there was to know about a woman. “Aye, does it matter?”

Sinjun thought about it for a moment and decided it didn’t matter to him if it didn’t matter to her. But she did owe him an explanation. Not now, however. He was too hard, too needy, too hot to waste time on lengthy explanations. His answer was to flex his hips and break through the membrane shielding her innocence.

She cried out and lurched upward, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but there is no other way,” he whispered, gentling her with his voice. “I promise it will get better soon.”

He moved his hips slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed he was to deflower a virgin—not that it didn’t please him to be the first with her. He withdrew, flexed, and seated himself more deeply inside her. His control was badly battered, his restraint desperately taxed. But he’d promised her pleasure, and Lord Sin always delivered. He had never in his life left a woman wanting.

Sinjun sent up a prayer of gratitude when he felt Flora’s first tentative response. Perspiration dotted his brow and dripped into his eyes. His teeth were gritted so hard that his jaw ached, and he was so close to the edge he feared he would tumble over.

“Ah, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “That’s it. Move with me. Feel it, live it, flow with it.”

He thrust hard and was rewarded with the subtle movement of her hips. There was no holding him back now. Thrust and withdraw, in and out, again and again. She was responding beautifully, every bit as passionate as he had imagined. Her small, enthusiastic cries were music to his ears, her short, gasping breaths a gift from the gods.

He was losing control. His body tingled with the beginning of his climax. He looked down at the woman straining beneath him and was deeply gratified when he saw she was nearly there. Her eyes were glazed over, and short, small gasping sounds escaped from her open mouth. He bared his teeth and concentrated on the goal within their reach.

“Come to me now, sweetheart. You’re almost there. Don’t hold back. Oh, God, I’m … I can’t…”

He heard her call out his name, felt her body contract, felt her tight passage squeeze around him, and he spewed forth his seed. He came in a great, gushing upheaval of body and spirit so intense that it defied description. He’d always enjoyed the games associated with sex—the chase, the seduction, the ultimate possession—but nothing this earth-shattering had ever happened before.

Did Lady Flora Randall possess mysterious powers that transcended simple earthly pleasure? Nothing as sublime as what he had just experienced could be considered mundane. If he were a poet he’d describe it as an affair inspired by heaven.

Chapter 3

H
er eyes were closed. Her head rested on his shoulder. He stared at her curiously. What was there about her that seemed so familiar? Nothing about the mysterious Lady Flora made sense. He had enjoyed her immensely and knew he had given her pleasure despite her innocence.

Why was she, a married lady, still a virgin?

It mystified him, but he didn’t let it deter him from his course. There was so much he wanted to teach her. He looked forward with relish to all the nights to come, when they would explore every nuance of sexual pleasure together. That thought brought an instant resurgence of lust, and a groan slipped past his lips.

She must have felt him harden against her, for she blinked up at him. He gave her an owlish smile. “The night is still young and I’m ravenous.”

“You’re hungry? My maid has gone to bed, but if you’d like, we can raid the kitchen.”

His grin widened. “You truly are innocent, aren’t you? I usually prefer experienced women, for they rarely demand things I can’t or am not willing to give, but you’re a refreshing change. Why didn’t you tell me you were untouched? Has
everything
you told me been a lie? Is mere truly a husband?”

“Aye, there is a husband. He … he’s impotent and cannot perform in bed or produce a child. He needs an heir and approves of what I am doing. He insisted that I come to town, find a man to my liking, and … well, he knows having a child would make me happy and he cares about my happiness.”

Dismayed, Sinjun stared at her. Did the kind of man Flora just describe really exist? Could a man be so anxious for an heir that he would encourage his wife to let another man impregnate her? If
he
were Flora’s husband he would
never
allow her to bed another man, no matter how old and decrepit he became or how desperately he wanted an heir.

“How very cavalier of him. I would not be so generous were you my wife. On the other hand,” he said, drawing her against him, “I’m deliriously happy with the choice you made. I’m curious to know why you chose me. Dare I hope I’m the only man who appealed to you?”

“You may hope anything,” Christy said with asperity. “As I explained to you last night, I heard you were a man without principles, so I assumed you wouldn’t make demands upon me should I bear a child from our association. It didn’t hurt, however, that I found you physically attractive.

“And you’re married,” she continued, “just as I am, and therefore not interested in commitments or lasting relationships. When I return to my husband, as I must, I know you will have no trouble finding another mistress. Men like you are interested only in casual affairs. Am I not right?”

“This conversation is beyond the pale,” Sinjun groused. Her description of him made him sound callous and shallow. “In all my days I’ve never met a woman, and there have been many in my life, who became my lover for the reasons you just specified. I think I’ve just been insulted.”

“I thought I was speaking the truth. Besides, I want the terms of our affair clearly understood.”

Sinjun stilled as her insult sparked his anger. “What exactly are those terms, my lady? Besides wanting to take my child back to Cornwall with you and passing it off as your husband’s? What we just shared tonight indicates that we are remarkably compatible.

“You have a passionate nature, whether you realize it or not, and if you want to become pregnant, who am I to discourage you? If you’re serious about what you just told me, I want you for myself. I want you for my mistress.”

Christy regarded him solemnly. This relationship was progressing faster than she had expected. A perverse devil inside her made her ask, “Will you remain faithful to me during the length of our association?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Those are my terms.” If Sinjun stayed faithful to her during the three months she remained in town, she suspected it would be three months longer than he had
ever
been faithful in his marriage.

“Very well, I accept your terms. But the same holds true for you. I will be your only lover for the duration of our alliance, and you will take no other man to your bed. Shall I rent a house for you, or will yours do? I’ll expect you to accompany me to social events, of course. And to let me visit whenever I feel the need.”

He grinned at her. “And speaking of need…” He grasped her hand and brought it to his loins. “See what you do to me? I can’t recall when I’ve been so quickly aroused by a woman. You’re deliriously different from any woman I’ve every known, my lady.”

Christy took his words with a grain of salt. A notorious rake like Sinjun probably said that to all the women he bedded. He oozed charm from every pore; she suspected he could charm the wallpaper off the walls and women out of their petticoats simply by flashing that devastating smile of his. Her thoughts scattered when he lowered his head and kissed her.

He nudged her lips with his tongue and she opened eagerly to him, meeting his tongue with her own, finding herself helplessly drawn into the web of his seduction. With a sigh of capitulation, she gave herself up to his loving.

Christy learned volumes about her husband that night. She learned that he was a perfectionist when it came to sexual matters. Nothing was left half done. He gave of himself with enthusiasm and passion and expected no less from her. She couldn’t have held back if she’d wanted to, for Sinjun wouldn’t have allowed it. With hands, mouth, and tongue, he gave her more pleasure than she had ever thought possible. And during the long hours before dawn, he taught her to please him in ways she’d never imagined.

When night faded into a new day, Sinjun slipped out of bed and dressed in the gray dawn of morning.

“The Ravensdale ball is the first big event of the Season,” Sinjun said. “Wear something fetching tonight. I want to show you off to the
ton.
I’ll be the envy of Londontown when I walk into the ball with you on my arm.”

“You are always the talk of Londontown,” Christy observed dryly. “I’ll go masked, of course.”

“If it pleases you. I suppose most women will wear masks, since it’s all the rage.” He bent and brushed her lips with his. “Just remember, you belong to me and I guard my possessions jealously.”

Christy stiffened. What an arrogant lout, she thought dispassionately. He was possessive of all his women except one. His own wife. It was no more than she’d expected from an Englishman. She hoped she could put up with his arrogance for the time it took to get with child. As for his lovemaking, though she hated to admit it, she could put up with that forever. She hadn’t wanted to enjoy it, but what red-blooded woman could remain unmoved by a man as sensual and accomplished as Lord Sin? Though her experience was limited, she seriously doubted a man existed who could challenge his reputation as a fabulous lover.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” Sinjun continued when the silence grew between them. “I hope you’re not planning on dancing till dawn, for I doubt I can wait that long to have you again.”

Christy gulped back a tart reply and forced a smile. “You need not worry, my lord. I’m yours … until the day we part.”

“Aye,” Sinjun replied in a voice made husky with desire. “As you said, my lady, you’re mine.” He brushed his lips against hers again. Then he filled his hands with her breasts and kissed each pert nipple.

His eyes were dark and hot, his face tautly drawn over the sharp contours of his cheekbones. His hungry, predatory look stunned her. Were all men as sexually charged as her husband? Did they all want but one thing from a woman? Many men had looked upon her with lust, but nothing she’d experienced compared with the potency of Lord Sin’s ravenous gaze. She felt devoured by it, as if her bones were melting. How naive she’d been to think she could walk away from this escapade without sustaining serious damage to her heart.

“Farewell, sweet Flora,” Sinjun whispered against her lips. “Until tonight.”

“Aye, until tonight,” Christy choked out.

With a jaunty wave, he let himself out of the room. She waited until she heard his footsteps descending the staircase before bouncing out of bed. The moment her feet hit the floor she regretted her haste. Every bone in her body ached, though not unpleasantly, and the soreness between her legs attested to the success of her plan to seduce her husband. Only one thing troubled her. Had she been the seducer or the seducee?

Her head was still reeling with that thought as she pulled on a wrapper and hurried to the window. She threw back the drapery in time to see Sinjun tool out of the alleyway and guide his high-stepping matched bays down the street.

She turned away from the window just as the door opened, admitting Margot. Margot’s narrowed gaze slid over Christy, assessing her condition with a practiced eye.

“Are ye all right, lass? He didn’t hurt ye, did he? If he did, I’ll have his balls on a platter.”

Christy suppressed a grin. She loved her kinswoman dearly, but at times she tended to smother her. Though only a few years older than Christy, Margot had been with Christy since both women had lost their fathers and brothers on the battlefield at Culloden. Margot’s mother had died shortly afterward, and old Angus had taken Margot in and raised her with Christy. Together, Christy and a somewhat cautious Margot had conceived the plan that had brought them to London.

“Sinjun didn’t hurt me, Margot. Quite the opposite. I am sore, though, and a hot bath would not be amiss.”

“I’ll see to it,” Margot said. “Rory can carry up the buckets for ye. He may as well make himself useful while he’s here. Lord knows there’s little enough for the lazy lout to do in the carriage house.”

“Complain all you want about Rory, but I’m glad he agreed to come with us. We couldn’t have made the long trip from Scotland without him. He’s a trustworthy lad.”