Fantasy 02 - Forbidden Fantasy (15 page)

Like a blind woman, she stumbled over, and she collapsed toward him, relieved that he caught her. If he hadn't reached out, she'd have plummeted to the rug.

"You're soaked through," he chided, though kindly.

"I had to get away from them."

She pressed herself to him, her nose buried against his chest. He was so warm, so sturdy and reliable, and she could have tarried there forever, safe and secure in the circle of his arms.

He took her hand and led her up the stairs to his bedchamber, and she followed along, perfectly content to do whatever he wanted. There was a toasty fire burning in the grate, and he guided her to it. She stared into the flames, mesmerized, as he removed her cloak; then he sat in a chair and drew her onto his lap.

"Calm yourself," he murmured, "and tell me what's happening."

"I can't marry Mr. Shelton."

"I'm thrilled to hear it."

"I want to be happy. That's all I want."

"It's so difficult to achieve, isn't it? Happiness, I mean."

"Yes, so I talked to my mother. I told her that I refuse to end up like her. She's so forlorn and angry." "She definitely is."

"I want something better for myself, but she said I have to wed Mr. Shelton."

"So you spoke to your father?"

"But he wouldn't listen, either. He was eager to be with his mistress, so he was too busy to discuss it." "He has a terrible reputation for that sort of thing." "So this girl isn't the first?" "No, not the first."

"I didn't know! My world is disintegrating before my very eyes! Everything I believed about my family is false."

"Have you ever stopped to consider that it might be you who's changing? Perhaps they're exactly as they've always been and you're simply seeing them more clearly."

"Perhaps," she allowed.

"I'm proud of you."

She was amazed. "You are?"

"I recognize how hard it is for you to stand up to them." He kissed her temple. "I'm glad you came to me."

"So am I."

"How long can you stay?"

"For as long as you'd like. No one will notice if I'm late getting back." "I doubt that's true."

"I suppose you're right." She sighed. "I should probably be home by dark."

He smiled. "Then I suspect we shall have a lovely afternoon."

She smiled, too. "I suspect we shall."

Come with me." Ian eased her to her feet.

"To where?" Let me show you."

He'd just staggered out of bed, and a bath had been delivered, so the water would still be hot. She was freezing, her garments damp, her hair wet, and his initial order of business was to warm her and dry her clothes.

He couldn't get over the fact that she'd visited him, in the middle of the day—without hesitation or concealment—which indicated that the scene with her parents must have been appalling. He'd imagined that life with the Earl of Derby was unpleasant, so he wasn't surprised by her story, but it pained him that she was hurting.

He peeked in his dressing room, ensuring there were no servants lurking; then he drew her inside. "What's this?" she said.

"Honestly, Caro, you must have seen one. It's a hip bath."

"I know that," she retorted. "I assume one of us is about to bathe. Is it to be me? Or you?" "You."

"Are you going to watch?"

"Yes. I intend to wash you, too." He grinned wickedly. "If you're really nice to me, I might even join you."

"In the tub?"

"Yes."

"Are you telling me that men and women actually carry on this way? Together and in the open, where any servant could stroll in?"

"It's quite common, and a favorite pastime of mine." At realizing how much he'd revealed about his disreputable character, she glowered, and he hastily added, "Not that I've ever done such a thing with a female."

"Oh, of course not." "I'm a veritable saint."

"Absolutely," she wryly agreed. "How could I be twenty-five years old and not have learned these secrets?"

"Don't ever regret being sheltered."

"I used to presume it beneficial"—her sizzling gaze took a deliberate, inquisitive meander down his torso—"but since becoming involved with you, I've changed my mind."

"I have that effect on people. The more you get to know me, the worse you'll behave. I guarantee it."

She chuckled and spun around. "Unbutton my gown."

He proceeded methodically, stripping her as if he were a lady's maid. He could have lingered and enjoyed the endeavor, but he wanted her naked. He removed her dress, petticoats, shoes, and stockings, and he paused to take them into the bedchamber, to drape them over the chairs in front of the fire.

At seeing her belongings scattered about, he was much more pleased than he should have been, and when he returned to her, he was frowning.

"Why are you scowling?" she asked.

"Because I like having you here."

"My presence makes you grumpy?"

"Very."

"I don't understand men."

He nestled himself to her backside and peered over her shoulder, tantalized by how her breasts pushed against her corset. She was so beautiful, and she was all his.

He untied her laces, dragging the blasted contraption away; then he yanked off her drawers, and in a thrice, she was nude. He wrapped his arms around her and ran his palms down her stomach and thighs, and she shivered, but he was fairly sure it wasn't from desire.

"Let's get you in the tub," he urged, and he held her hand as she climbed in.

She slid down, hissing as she immersed herself. There was an extra bucket of hot water on the floor, and he dumped it over her, earning a squeal of irritated delight; then he pulled up a stool and sat next to her.

She was relaxed and content, and at the sight, he was overcome by the oddest impression that she'd finally arrived right where she was meant to be. His heart did a funny flip-flop, jerking in his chest, until he actually rubbed the center, massaging away the ache.

"You're scowling again," she said, laughing.

"I'm trying to figure out how rapidly I can have you in my bed."

"Is that your plan?"

"Oh, yes, that's my plan."

"You have a very fiendish mind."

"I can't deny it."

"I'm not complaining."

He snatched up a cloth and swished it; then he swabbed it over her body, stroking it across her shoulders and bosom, down her tummy and between her legs.

Though she was a spinster and a virgin, she'd abandoned her prior reticence. Events had made her more reckless, more eager to experience the mischief he initiated, so she did nothing to slow him, which was incredibly titillating. His cock was so hard that he wondered how he'd stand.

"Are you feeling better?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes."

"Have I vanquished your chill?" "Like a knight in shining armor." "Marvelous. Out you go."

He helped her rise and step out; then he grabbed a towel and dried her.

"You didn't get in with me," she protested.

"That's because I'm so impatient to lure you to my bed, instead."

"Will you join me next time?"

"Most definitely."

At the notion that she was already contemplating a next time, his heart made that silly fluttering motion again.

He was so happy when she was near, so miserable when she wasn't, but he wouldn't focus on the peculiar sentiment. He wouldn't like her more than was wise, wouldn't moon over her when they were apart. If he did, he'd start to dream about a future that could never be, which was the height of folly.

They'd been acquainted forever, and he knew her well. Though she was currently distressed over her betrothal, in the end she would relent. If he began to hope she'd do anything else, he'd drive himself crazy.

He folded the towel around her, tucking the corner between her breasts, and he led her into his bedchamber. They tumbled onto the mattress, and Caro was as comfortable as if they'd been lovers for years rather than days.

He rolled on top of her, and as he kissed her he was stung by the realization that he never wanted to let her go, so his journey to insanity was complete.

He wasn't looking for a mistress—he had one of

those—and he wasn't looking for a wife. He especially wasn't looking for a wife who was the daughter of one of the most powerful families in England. He would never pursue such a negligent path, but at that moment, when she was warm and fragrant and snuggled beneath him, any wild conclusion seemed possible.

Needing to feel her flesh pressed to his own, he yanked at his shirt, tugging it off and tossing it on the floor. Then he pulled her towel away, exposing her to his avid scrutiny, and he lay atop her again, both of them moaning with pleasure as bare skin connected.

He nibbled down her neck, across her chest, and he suckled at his leisure. His sexual stimulation was painful, his poor, neglected phallus begging for mercy.

He groaned with dismay.

"What is it?" she asked. "Are you injured?"

"No, but I'm so aroused that it hurts."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She grinned. "You're suffering because of me?" "Yes, you wench."

"Fabulous. How can I soothe your ache?" "You can't." "Why not?"

"Well... there are ... we are ... I am ..." He still wasn't able to explain the mechanics of fornication. It was simply beyond him.

"Why are you embarrassed? Are you telling me that you can philander with ease, but you can't talk about it?"

"Some things are better in the demonstrating." "So demonstrate." She flung her arms wide, like a virgin about to be sacrificed. "No."

"Why?"

"Because I'd have to remove my trousers and have you touch me."

"What a grand idea! Let's try it." She wiggled out from under him, ready to undress him against his will.

"No," he said again. "If I take off my pants, there's no predicting what I might do."

"You'd be spurred to further misbehavior?"

"Yes, and a man can become too provoked, to where he can't control himself."

"Have I suggested you control yourself?"

"You're to be wed soon, Caro."

"Not if lean help it."

He continued as if she hadn't interrupted. "So we can't do anything that might harm you at the start of your marriage."

She shoved him onto his back, her glare imperious and irked. "I hate it when you treat me like a child, and I'm tired of waiting for you to get on with it."

"One of us needs to keep a level head."

"I don't see why. So far, we've broken every imaginable rule. Why restrain ourselves now?"

"Because we must."

"Ian?"

"Yes."

"Do be silent."

She came up on her knees, and she hovered over his crotch, making quick work of the buttons on his trousers, and he dawdled like an imbecile and let her have her way. He should have stopped her, but his anatomy seemed to have cast a spell on his tongue, and he couldn't utter a single word of protest.

She drew the fabric away, baring him to his haunches, and she sucked in a surprised breath.

"My, my," she murmured, "would you look at that!"

"We're built differently—in our private parts," he managed to grind out.

"I know. I've listened to women gossiping."

As if she were a tot that had discovered a new flavor of candy, she proceeded to explore. She squeezed and caressed, each innocent stroke shooting through him like a bolt of lightning. Her thumb grazed the sensitive crown, his limbs jerking in response as sparks of desire flowed from his loins outward.

"It's very large," she mentioned.

"It can be—when I'm excited."

"Such as now?"

"Yes. I'm definitely excited now." "Wonderful."

He reached down and positioned her fingers, wrapping his hand around hers and guiding her in the appropriate rhythm. She was a willing, adept pupil, who instantly grasped what was required, but the stimulation was too extreme.

He'd intended to be patient, to let her tease and play, but he'd been goaded to madness. His lust spiked, his seed surging to the tip and demanding release. He slapped her away, when she didn't understand why he would.

"What's the matter?" she queried. "What did I do?"

"I need to come."

"I don't know what that means."

"You don't have to know. Just hold me."

"Like this?"

"Yes."

She hugged him as he stretched out, his phallus pressed to the soft skin of her belly. He thrust once, again, and again, and he emptied himself against her stomach. A potent orgasm carried him away, and as he spiraled up he worried that he'd never find the peak.