For Desire Alone (8 page)

Mariah allowed her friend to finish before she shook her head. “I—John is not my new protector.”

Vivien stared for a moment and then pushed to her feet and paced away as she muttered, “Oh dear God.”

“Please don’t take such a tone!” Mariah insisted. “You
know
that John is the unattainable man, by lady or by mistress. He refuses to bind himself to just one woman.”

Vivien snorted a sound of perturbed frustration.

“But we want each other,” Mariah continued. “Apparently desperately enough that he has suggested this affair.”

Vivien spun on her. “Mariah! You must see the very large numbers of reasons to worry over this arrangement.”

“I know,” she began, but Vivien would not allow it.

“If Owen had settled you with enough funds that you could live comfortably off the interest, as you had believed he would, then yes, you could enter into frivolous affairs. In fact, I would encourage you to do so, as they can be quite invigorating. But he didn’t.”

Mariah pursed her lips. “Yes, I realize—”

Vivien lifted a hand to silence her. “You
need
a protector, and sooner rather than later. Some kind of affair will only hinder that process.”

Mariah pushed to her feet. “If you will let me get a word in edgewise, I will tell you that John understands that I must continue looking for a protector.”

Vivien stopped and stared at her. “John Rycroft accepts the fact that you must look for a protector during the time that he is taking you in every way his wicked mind can imagine? I cannot picture that kind of arrangement is in his nature. To share you without it being in some kind of pleasurable way.”

Mariah swallowed hard at the image her friend created, but shook her head. “It is an arrangement we can both live with.”

Her friend continued to keep her gaze evenly on Mariah’s face. “He must like you a great deal.”

Mariah barked out a laugh. “No, he wants me. And I admit, I do want him. What he has offered me is pleasure, just for me. There are no expectations or boundaries. I am not expected to only give. And that is entirely bewitching.”

Vivien’s brow wrinkled and for a moment there was a flash of understanding on her face. Mariah wasn’t entirely certain she liked what she saw. It was something akin to…
pity
.

But then Vivien nodded. “I can understand that,” she said softly. “And perhaps this will lead to something more permanent.”

Mariah shook her head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“Only that if anyone could change a man’s mind, it would be you,” Vivien said with a laugh. “Spend a few weeks immersed in pleasure with him and he might not be willing to let you go. He could be entirely under your spell.”

Mariah blinked. Was that possible? Could she be the one to tame John’s wild heart? And what would happen if she was
his
?

“Perhaps,” she said, hesitating at the thought.

Vivien sensed that hesitation. “Or do you fear you will be under his?”

Mariah jerked her gaze to her friend. “
No
. No, that would not be wise. I cannot risk love again, correct? So I will not fall under his spell. I won’t involve my feelings, nor ask him to involve his. We will share only sex. Only pleasure.” She sighed. “At least I can depend on John to give me that and not pretend anything more.”

“No,” Vivien said softly. “John will never pretend. One way or another.”

Mariah pushed to her feet and walked across the room. She stared out at the street below, where carriages bustled and couples strolled toward the park just down the street from Vivien’s home. She was quiet for a long time, thinking about everything Vivien had said. Thinking of everything she and John had already done.

Slowly, she turned to find Vivien watching her, her gaze filled with concern.

“You are my best friend,” Mariah began. “And you are more well-versed in these types of matters than anyone in our acquaintance. So I trust you tell me the truth. You think this is a bad idea, don’t you?”

Vivien’s hesitation told a story before she spoke and Mariah’s heart sank. Until that moment, she hadn’t truly known how much she wanted to surrender to John with utter abandon. To throw away her obligations and fears and simply
feel
with him.

Vivien got to her feet and crossed to Mariah. She wrapped her arms around Mariah’s waist and squeezed.

“There are many things to consider, yes. Many pitfalls that could lead you to heartache. But, my dearest, I look at your situation and I think that you deserve some pleasure of your own. Do I believe you should tread carefully? I do, indeed.”

Mariah nodded. “I agree. And I intend to tread very carefully.”

Vivien smiled and gave her another squeeze, but as her friend pulled away and motioned to the door so they could proceed to supper, Mariah couldn’t help but wonder if she would be able to tread carefully with John. At the moment, she wanted to run headlong into what he offered.

And that could be the biggest mistake of her life.

John looked at the clock. It was nearly eight. But then, it had been nearly eight for at least a year because that seemed to be how long he had been watching the clock since he came into his chamber to wait for Mariah. A chamber he had shared with a great many women, and yet he had never paced about it in anticipation like this before.

There was a light rap on his door and John froze. Slowly he smoothed his jacket and called out, “Come,” with as calm a tone as he could manage.

The door swung open and Mariah stood in the entryway, eyes wide, face pale as she looked around slowly.

“Hello,” he managed to croak out.

She nodded. “H-Hello. I…Swanson told me to come to this room at your request.”

John motioned her inside. She entered slowly and then closed the door behind her with a tiny, earth-shattering click.

“I thought about meeting with you in a parlor,” he explained as he slowly crossed the room to her. “And sharing a drink and some empty conversation. But eventually I realized all that would do was prolong the time it took to get here. This chamber. Where we both want to be.” He took her hands and drew her closer. “Don’t we?”

“Yes,” she breathed and lifted up on her tiptoes to crush her mouth to his.

Any thoughts, any charming words that John had in his mind emptied in that moment. Finally, he was going to receive what he desired. Oh, he had taken Mariah before, but that wasn’t enough. Tonight he would really have her. Slowly. And he intended to take advantage of every moment they would share that wasn’t rushed and desperate.

He drew back and looked down at her. Her hazel stare was almost impossibly dark with desire at the moment and focused entirely on him.

“Take off your clothes,” he rasped as he stepped away.

She blinked. “You don’t want to take them off?”

It was said so sweetly that the words alone could hardly be taken as a challenge, but her expression was anything but sweet. She was taunting him, daring him to do so.

He shook his head. “I will rend the dress in two if I do it. And then you will be forced to leave my home utterly naked.”

Her responding laughter was throaty and made his groin ache, but then she lifted her hands to the buttons of her gown. It was a different from the one she had worn earlier in the day and had buttons along the front. He stared as she flicked each one free with just a smooth motion of her wrist and parted her gown to seductively reveal the curves of her breasts.

“If I am to take off my clothing,” she said with a counterfeit pout, “I think it only fair that you remove yours. None of this only one person naked while we make love nonsense.”

He swallowed. She was testing his resolve and his control with her playful, seductive teasing. And truth be told, he liked it. So many women he encountered seemed intimidated by his presence, his reputation, his money, his name, that they were coy with him. They allowed him to do all the work that led to a sexual encounter. And while he enjoyed a good seduction as much as the next man…

Well, he also very much liked Mariah’s confidence and boldness.

She opened the last button of her gown and parted the fabric slightly. She gently lifted and pushed her breasts together, but did not uncover them, offering him just a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage.

“Your turn,” she ordered.

He did not require a second request. Without breaking their stare, he shoved out of his jacket and tossed it away from him without bothering to see where it landed. Next he unbuttoned his shirt, carefully repeating her seductive play when she had done the same with her gown.

She grinned and then laughed at his playful teasing and his heart jumped unexpectedly at her wide, pretty smile. She so often didn’t show it, instead playing the part of a seductive, erotic mistress. But dear God, it was worth everything to see her so at ease, so joyful.

He stripped his shirt off and she stopped laughing and instead just stared at him.

“John,” she murmured and reached for him, closing the gap between them to press her hand against his bare chest.

He sucked his breath in through his teeth and held it as she glided her fingers down his chest, over his stomach and then let them fall away.

“You approve?” he managed to ask.

She nodded and her gaze returned to his. “Oh yes. Very much so. But I’m sure you think nothing of that. Every woman who sees you like this must coo and moan over you. You know you are beautiful, a specimen. My thinking the same couldn’t be of any consequence.”

John stared at her. As if he could ever rank her amongst the numerous unimportant women who had touched him over the years.

“Mariah, trust that your thoughts mean a great deal to me. They always have,” he said softly.

Her eyes went wide and she stared at him for so long that he shifted at the intensity of her gaze. To lighten the mood, to break the tension, he smiled.

“Now I am half-naked, and you are still fully clothed. I thought you wished to prevent this sort of disparity from occurring. It is only fair that you remove some portion of that gown.”

She blinked and the spell was broken. Her smile was wobbly, but she slowly, seductively glided her gown over her shoulders and tugged it down. She held up the fabric around her chest as she slipped her arms free from each sleeve and then dropped the dress around her waist to reveal her perfect breasts.

“Dear God,” he growled, almost against his will.

“Does this mean you equally approve of me?” she pressed as she glided a finger between her breasts.

He arched a brow. “Look at how my cock strains against my breeches and tell me I do not.”

She let her gaze slip southward and her eyes went wide. “My, that does look uncomfortable, Mr. Rycroft. Perhaps you should remove those before you lose consciousness from a lack of blood to the rest of your body.”

He chuckled as he toed off one boot, then the other and kicked them away so that when he pulled his trousers off, he could step free of their confines. Mariah leaned forward as he snapped free the first button of his trouser fly. Then the second, and she stopped breathing. The third, and he couldn’t contain his erection as it strained to escape in the space he had created.

“Would you like me to help you?” she asked, all breathless innocence.

He shook his head. “Touch me now and I shall explode. Which will completely defeat the purpose. Just one more and…” He popped the last button and slipped his cock from the confines of his trousers with a sigh of relief. Then he shucked them down and away to stand utterly naked and aroused before her.

“My God, John,” she whispered, all the teasing gone from her voice. “You are amazing. No wonder every courtesan, whore and mistress is willing to present herself to you at a simple word.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t give less of a thought to any of them at this moment. I am now naked, madam. And you are half-clothed. Please finish what we have started.”

Mariah half-smiled and then shimmied from her gown to stand before him naked. He caught his breath. He had seen her this way before, of course, but lust had been coursing through his veins too powerfully to really take in every inch of her.

She had long, willowy lines that flowed like some artist’s rendition of a woman’s perfect beauty.

“My God, Mariah,” he breathed. “You are everything I ever imagined you to be. More than I dreamed.”

She blushed. “But this is not a dream.”

She moved forward and gently wrapped her arms around his neck. She lifted up to her tiptoes and kissed him. This time there was no crushing desperation, no forceful demand to their kiss. It was slow and seductive as she tangled her tongue with his, tasting him, testing the measure of his response to this or that.

He shivered at her mastery of the kiss. He didn’t think he’d ever kissed a woman who affected him so deeply with just that caress. He cupped her backside and molded her more fully to his body as the kiss deepened and spiraled further and further into a place that could only end in their bodies joined and moving together toward release.

She groaned against his mouth and lifted and crooked one long, smooth leg around his thigh. The motion opened her sex and he felt its humid heat against him, welcoming him, waiting for him.