His Perfect Passion (11 page)

She’s so damned perfect!

He had her hard. No doubt about it—this was a hard fucking. But right now, he needed it. Later he could be gentle and slow, but first he had to feed the beast in him. There was only one thing on the menu for the beast, and it was sweet and pink and situated right between Marianne’s thighs. He could get inside her deeper in this position than in any of the other ways. Oh, glorious heavens, he thought, please never let it end!

Pumping fiercely, he ground into her like a madman, time slipping away behind a veil of carnal sensation. He had no idea how long he fucked, if it was a second, a minute or an hour, who knew?

He reached down a finger to glide over her clit and the second he did, she came, all at once, clenching and shuddering beneath him. Her orgasm ignited his own release. It was nirvana to pleasure her, to feel her body tense up, to hear her cries. He felt his own need bubble up and overflow like wine from a cask. Her glorious response pushed him over the edge where he could embrace the end he sought so desperately. With a shout and a hiss and a gush of hot seed he melded into her and, for one brilliant instant, knew absolute heaven.

About an hour later she was languid and sleepy in his arms—a well-ridden, thoroughly sated, and stunningly sensual woman. Her blindfold long removed, she had crawled up on him, her head at his chest where she kissed and trailed her sweet lips up to his jaw and his shoulders.

He thought about all that he had known about her before and all that he knew about her now. Darius was happy to realize he’d been correct in predicting the passion in her. His Marianne was a siren in bed. She was also affectionate, and he adored her touches and gestures. After they made love like this, he liked to hold her close against his body, kissing and stroking over her skin. Whenever she did the same to him, his heart swelled. Marianne made him feel victorious, like a warrior, strong and powerful. But there were many facets to her, and in some ways she was more of a mystery now than before. He sensed a kind of darkness in Marianne and that was a concern. Darius knew his feelings for her were growing stronger with each passing day, and with those feelings the urge to protect and secure her happiness however he could.

“
Cara
, why did you seem sad when Lord Rothvale asked you about your drawings?”

“Did I?”

“Yes. To me you did. And he even patted your hand to console you a little, it looked like. Why does drawing the sea make you melancholy?”

She sucked in a quick breath before answering. “I think it’s because the sea is so demanding.”

“Demanding?” Her explanation struck him as odd. “In what way?”

“No matter where I go, the sea calls to me, and it has for a long time. I cannot get away from the pull of the waves, and I fear it will always be so. Somehow, capturing one moment of time depicted in a seascape is soothing for me. That’s why I only draw the—” She shook her head and looked at him. “Enough about that. I want to talk about you. Lord Rothvale is serious about you making a run for the House of Commons, and I think he is right. You would be very good, Darius…”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, thinking about how she’d just avoided his questions so neatly. Marianne was loving and kind and attentive. He could not fault her as a wife in regards to how she embraced her many duties and responded to him. And he believed her sincere. So why then was there this persistent nag in the back of his mind telling him that Marianne wasn’t being completely honest?

Chapter Twelve

A week passed before he said it again.

Marianne searched in all of the usual places. She’d come to her study to review the housekeeping accounts, but the books weren’t here. Her desk had been rearranged as well. Very odd. She would inquire to Mrs. West and get to the bottom of the mystery. Shuffling through another drawer in her quest, she didn’t hear him come in.

“Looking for something, my darling?”

“Oh, Darius. Yes, actually. I came up here to review the accounts, but I cannot find the housekeeping books. They are nowhere in this room that I can see, and someone’s been fumbling around my desk.”

“Well that’s no good at all. We must find the culprit and see to a swift punishment.” He walked over and pulled her up.

Marianne knew he was up to something as soon as he started in on the teasing. She could smell it on him.

“What do you know, Darius?”

“Only that your neck flushes when you get frustrated.” He smirked. “And you get a little crease, right here, between your eyes.” He brushed the place with his lips.

“Well, yes I’m frustrated—I cannot find the books!”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll turn up, Marianne. Probably sooner than you think. These things have a way of working out.” He waved a hand in dismissal.

She observed him carefully. He looked very smug and rather devious. “Did you want…something, Darius? You know, when you came in here?”

“I s’pose a kiss would be nice, but that’s not why I came to find you. Actually I am in need of your opinion on something. Will you come and let me show you?” He held out his hand, a definite leer of mischievousness above that firm jaw.

She took his offered hand and let him lead her down the corridor and into the south wing of the house. He stopped them at a door near the end of the hall.

“What I want you to see is in here.” He smiled knowingly. “Now close your eyes.”

“Another surprise? Don’t you get tired of surprising me, Darius?” She eyed him warily.

“Never! Now be a good girl and close your eyes,” he growled.

She obeyed because it was what she did when he gave her an order. She closed her eyes and heard him open the door. He brought her into the room.

“You may open your eyes now, Marianne.”

She looked around the elegant room and fell in love. It faced south and had a picture window with a view of the sea framed in one wall. A lady’s desk was arranged afore the window, for light. There were upholstered chairs in a turquoise silk and a large chaise set before the fireplace. The earthy colors of blue, green, and the dark brown woods appealed to her. The thick carpet was warm and luxurious. This was an absolutely flawless room.

“What is this place?”

He didn’t answer as she walked over to the desk. She put her hands on the English oak and splayed out her fingers. What a magnificent working desk, she thought. You could sit at this desk and view the sea anytime you wished. How pleasant it would be to relax in a room such as this.

“Sit down, Marianne.”

She pulled out the chair and sat. She looked out the window. The day was gusty, the choppy whitecaps bobbing for miles. A lone merchant vessel sailed by

“Open the middle drawer.”

The drawer contained engraved stationary for correspondence. Lifting a sheet of the heavy linen paper, she read the engraving, Mrs. Marianne Rourke, Stonewell Court, Kilve, Somerset. A breathy laugh escaped and she brought her other hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound. She could feel Darius had moved. He was directly behind her.

“Now open the bottom, right drawer.”

The sound of wood sliding against wood squeaked harshly in the quiet between them. The account books. Her housekeeping books were stacked neatly and ordered just as they should be in the drawer.

“Oh…Darius…”

“Do you like your new study, Marianne?”

She leapt up and spun around. He was right there before her, smiling broadly.

“Like it? No! ‘Like’ is an unsuitable word for how I feel about this room. Darius, I
love
this room!”

She leaned up to kiss him on the lips. She put a hand to his cheek and asked, “Why?”

He shrugged. “I know how much you like the views and thought you deserved a nice place for your work. A beautiful place for a beautiful woman.” He turned his lips to kiss her palm still resting on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Deserved.
There was that word again. He said she deserved this room, but really she didn’t. Would he still think her deserving if he knew? Still, she wouldn’t hurt his feelings. She’d accept his lovely gift and show Darius her appreciation as a dutiful wife should.

“You might even be able to sketch up here, the light is good. Anyway, I’m glad you’re happy with it.”

“I am, Darius. Very much so.” She embraced him and felt his strong arms wrap around her.

The knock at the door alerted them that the tea had arrived. Both pulled out of their embrace at the same time. Sitting side by side on the chaise they watched quietly as the maid set out the tea for them. Marianne looked at Darius, so dignified and handsome as he waited for the maid to finish and leave them alone again.

Darius picked up a strawberry from the plate and held it to her lips. “Open your mouth and bite.” His eyes awaited, looking covetous and hungry now.

She covered the berry and closed her teeth over it. Juice squirted around her tongue, the tangy sweet perfume releasing into the air. She chewed the soft fruit and swallowed slowly, never taking her eyes off him.

He lunged and was on her in an instant. His tongue pushed deep and swirled over every inch of her mouth, sweeping up traces of the lingering strawberry flavor.

She felt herself go instantly wet for him. The heat flooded her between the thighs, and she had to clench them together for relief.

He pulled back, arched his brow, and stared.

She stared back.

He touched her forehead gently.

“What do you think about in that mind of yours, Marianne? So many thoughts you must have. When you look like you do right now…I wonder what you think about.”

“Right now I’m thinking I want to do something…for you, Darius.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes widened. “What do you want to do for me, Marianne?” he whispered with controlled breath.

She moved from the chaise and knelt on her knees before him. Lifting her face, she pierced him with her eyes and rubbed her lips together.

Darius opened his mouth in surprise, but no sound came forth. He was a tight as a bowstring and ready to snap, but choked out the command. “Tell me what you want to do. Say the words!”

She was relentlessly frank with him. “I want to suck your cock, Darius.”

A kind of whimper came out of him, and she liked the sound he made. She moved her fingers quickly, releasing the buttons that covered him. His cock sprang out proud and hot in her hands. Gripping at the base with one hand, she lowered her mouth. Her tongue licked at the tip. She could smell his musky male scent. He jerked sharply and then arched into her touch as she closed over the head and pushed him to the back of her throat.

Darius moaned and strained under her onslaught. His harsh breathing just about matched the pace of her sliding strokes. He gripped her head and pumped into her mouth. And she liked every bit of what he did. From the first, Marianne had found pleasuring him with her mouth to be exciting—never unpleasant. He did the same for her, and she loved that, too. He gave her orgasms when he put his tongue to her. But Darius had never allowed her to finish him with her mouth. She wanted to know what it was like when he exploded in passion and her tongue was around him.

She could tell he was close and doubled her efforts of sucking as he slid in and out. She enfolded his testicles in her free hand and squeezed the tightening sac. All in a rush it happened. She felt the burst under her hand and heard the gasping above her head. The warm gush filled her mouth, and she held it as he convulsed into her throat, feeling victorious, and strangely happy.

When she pulled back from him they shared another look. He stared at her mouth. She slowly swallowed the salty tang and smiled at him. His face broke in an expression of near pain, and he answered her in a rush of sentiment, spoken in Italian, the words harmonious and flowing, but nevertheless unknown to her.