How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy (22 page)

BOOK: How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy
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“So pretty,” he said in a hushed voice. “Those sweet golden curls and your wet little cunny.”
She jerked when his fingertips brushed over her. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and that proved a heady combination when combined with his profane language.
“You are wet, aren't you?” he murmured.
She nodded, even though she suspected the question was rhetorical. She was wet—hot and damp and wild for his touch.
“Will, please,” she moaned.
He made a rough sound low in his throat, and then slowly pushed his fingers between her folds. Evie let out a strangled wail and rose up high, stunned by the fierce, gorgeous contraction of her inner flesh. That brought her breasts right up to his face and Will didn't hesitate. He pulled her in with a hot suck, alternately laving and flicking the stiff point of her nipple with his tongue. All the while, his hand worked between her thighs, massaging her inner folds, gently circling the tiny knot that ached and burned for his touch.
Evie grabbed onto his shoulders, fighting for balance. Helplessly, her hips pushed into his hand. His other hand came to her bottom to guide her in a gentle, grinding rhythm that drove her pleasure into a tight coil. Her breath came in sobs as she moved against him, her body lashed with pleasure by his expert manipulation. She felt him everywhere—his tongue curled around her nipple, his beard-roughened jaw sending shivers of delight across the tender skin of her breast. One hand squeezed and massaged her bottom, and the other rubbed between her folds, teasing her sex until she thought she would scream.
When tiny ripples of pleasure began to pulse deep inside, Evie almost did scream. She pushed down, trying to deepen the contact, desperate to ride the building wave of desire that flowed from her womb.
Almost purring against her breast, Will pulled his hand away. Shocked, Evie dug her fingers into his shoulders, her body throbbing with unfulfilled need.
“Will, don't stop now!” she yelped.
His head lifted, his gaze gleaming with passion and—blast him—amusement. “I'm not stopping, love. I'm joining you. I want to be inside you when you come.”
She tried to catch her breath. Evie wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but she did very much want him inside her since she was beginning to think that was the only way he could assuage the frustration and need pulsing between her legs.
“Lift for a second,” he ordered.
Awkwardly, she pushed up, letting him slip a hand to the front of his trousers. He quickly undid his fall and freed himself.
Evie glanced down, but when she saw the size of Will's arousal she almost wished she hadn't. Not that she felt inclined to call a halt to the proceedings—not at all. She just felt even less sure about the mechanics than she had before.
Will tipped up her chin to look at him. “Trust me,” he whispered.
She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his. “I do. I'm just being silly because it's my first time.”
“And I'm honored by that, my love, more than you can know. But I suppose I'd best get busy and help make you ready for it.”
“Funny, I thought that's what you were already doing,” she joked.
“Oh, there's more,” he murmured. “Much more.”
Then he rubbed two fingers through her folds again, slicking through her moisture, before slowly pushing them inside her. Evie bit her lip at the slight burn as he pressed into her tight passage, but she couldn't deny how lovely it felt too. When he began stroking and massaging her inner muscles, she moaned and started to move again.
“That's it, my beautiful girl,” he whispered. “Do whatever you want.”
Will twisted his hand, bringing the base of his palm against her tight bud while keeping his fingers buried inside her. Evie rode him, eager for more. She clung to him, rubbing her naked breasts against the fabric of his coat, making her nipples tingle and ache. She couldn't help looking down at their bodies, relishing the erotic contrast between her white, naked flesh and his soldier's garb. His big hands were everywhere, teasing, guiding and building her pleasure to unimaginable heights. It was wicked and forbidden, and she should and no doubt would feel thoroughly ashamed when it was over.
But it was also the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. It was Will, and she'd wanted him for so long. She wanted to imprint him on her body and her soul, so the memory of this moment would never fade.
Tiny contractions once more rippled through her channel, her inner flesh contracting around his fingers.
“God,” he groaned. “You're so ready for me.”
She gave a jerky nod, beyond any kind of verbal response. He withdrew his fingers, then tilted her up and forward a few inches. A moment later, she felt the broad head of his erection slip into her, forging into her tight channel. She hissed out a breath and went still.
Will murmured soothing words as he gently guided her body. Then he flexed his hips, nudging into her at the same time as she started a long slide down his thick length.
It burned like fire and yet felt wonderful at the same time. She sucked in a breath, holding it as she desperately searched his eyes. His gaze was heavy-lidded and gleaming, his cheekbones flushed with pleasure.
“Christ, Evie,” he rumbled. “You feel like heaven.”
She touched his cheek, smiling tentatively as he urged her down the last few inches until her hips were flush against him. Evie couldn't begin to describe how she felt—amazed, terrified, filled in a way she never could have imagined, both physically and emotionally. To be joined so intimately with him after she'd thought him gone from her life forever seemed impossible to fathom. She clutched at his shoulders, almost afraid to draw breath for fear she'd wake up and find it all a dream.
Then again, dreams didn't usually sting in such sensitive places. Evie wriggled a bit, trying to ease her discomfort. Perhaps it was her lack of knowledge regarding the mechanical details that contributed to the problem, although Will's size surely had something to do with it too.
His pleasure-dazed expression faded as his gaze sharpened on her. “Too much?”
She tried not to wince as she shifted again. “Well, it's very nice, but not quite what I expected.”
“It's your first time, love. There's always some pain.”
“I'm sure it will be better next time,” she said stoutly.
He laughed. “It's about to get better right now.”
And then he slipped a hand between their bodies to find the knot of flesh hidden in her curls. He began teasing it with slow, tantalizing movements. Warmth radiated from beneath his fingertips, seeping into her core. It seemed only natural to start moving again, rocking against him as he massaged her. When her excitement once more began to build, Will surged into her, stroking her inside and out.
Sensation rose in a golden spiral that flowed through her body. Her movements were jerky, unpracticed, but Will steadied her, silently guiding her to move with him. Their fractured breaths broke the silence, uneven and hurried. But their bodies moved together in glorious rhythm. Will touched her everywhere—holding her back, urging her forward, but always keeping her with him.
He flexed his hips, growling out his own pleasure. “Come for me, love,” he rasped.
Now she understood. Evie stretched up, reaching for the bright burst of pleasure just beyond her grasp. When Will flicked his fingers over her tender flesh, she broke. She arched her back as the sensation pulsed within her, a luxurious spasm then seemed to go on forever.
Will clamped both hands on her bottom and surged one last time, high and hard, his strong thighs lifting her as he groaned out his release. His eyes were closed, his features pulled tight with passion. She clung to him, her own eyes filling with tears of gratitude and emotion as his powerful body shook under her hands.
As he finally came to rest beneath her, his eyelids rose and a slow, sensual smile curled his lips. With trembling hands, Evie brushed her fingers through his dishevelled golden hair.
“My Wolf,” she whispered, and then collapsed in his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Will stroked a hand down Evie's back, his barely sated senses relishing the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips. As he cradled her trembling body in his arms, his reason grappled with the enormity of what had just happened between them. The enormity of what he had just done.
He'd taken her, an innocent maiden, on a creaky old chaise in a shabby little parlor at the back end of a church in the slums. Hardly the stuff of romance and certainly not the act of a man of honor, one duty-bound to protect the reputation of his bride. If anyone were to find out about this salacious little episode—and it had been deliciously salacious, he must admit—Evie's good name would suffer, regardless of their impending marriage. He should be thoroughly ashamed of himself for ravishing her in so primitive a fashion. The fact that he'd brought her to climax shouldn't be a source of satisfaction to him at all. He should be on his knees, begging her to forgive him for acting like a voracious brute.
But he wasn't the least bit sorry it had happened. The idea of going onto his knees before her had simply planted another image in his brain—Evie with her legs spread wide or draped over his shoulders, opening her tender flesh to the play of his mouth and hands.
Next time, he promised himself. Right now, he had to get Evie safely home before anyone found out she was even gone.
Turning her face to nuzzle into his neck, she heaved a sigh replete with satisfaction, pushing her lovely breasts against him. Will had always known that Evie hid a lush, welcoming body behind her plain spinster clothes. To say her form was spectacular was no exaggeration, and he could only thank his stars that the men of the
ton
were too stupid to realize the prize hiding behind that shy façade. Will had only begun to explore the bounty Evie had to offer, but he intended to devote a good part of his energies over the next several months to doing just that.
After, of course, he and Alec completed their mission and proved, among other things, that Evie had nothing to do with any criminal conspiracy.
That dreary thought broke through the warm cocoon they'd spun around each other in the quiet room. He needed to get moving, transporting Evie home and making a quick return to St. Margaret's so he could search Beaumont's office. It should be easy enough to filch the keys from her reticule once he had her in a hackney. All he had to do was kiss her until she was too distracted to notice what he was doing.
“Evie, my love,” he murmured, “I'm reluctant to make you move, but I think we'd best be going. We need to get you home before Lady Reese and Edie return from the Talwins' ball.”
“Oh, drat,” she muttered.
She pushed herself upright, wincing as she sat up straight in his lap, her legs still straddling his thighs. She gave him a shy smile as she rested her hands on his shoulders, her eyes shining as she met his gaze. Will's heart turned over at the joy he saw in her expression. The Evie he'd known had come back to life before him, with her love open and honest and no barriers between them. That's what it had been like before he'd taken her dreams and crushed them under the heel of his boot as he'd marched off to find adventure.
In one sense, she terrified him, because so much of her happiness seemed dependent on him. But he realized now what a gift that was, too, a much greater gift than even the ample pleasures of her body or her innocently sensual response to his lovemaking. The true gift was Evie's heart, which would now be forever his. She might not be the most beautiful woman he'd ever been with, and she wouldn't bring him riches or social influence. What she would bring was herself—her kind and generous nature, her gentle perception, and her loyalty. Marriage to Evie would come with a price, but it was a price he found himself more than willing to pay, given all she would bring him in return.
“You had to mention Mamma, didn't you?” she said with a rueful smile. “I can think of no better way to destroy any inclination I might have for pleasure, even with you.”
He let out a soft laugh. “I'll have to remember that. No referring to your mother when I intend to make love to you.”
“That would be wise,” she said as she struggled to pull up her stays.
She was gloriously disheveled, with her satiny smooth breasts and full pink nipples enticingly propped up by her undergarments. Letting out a regretful sigh, Will dropped a good-night kiss on one rigid tip and then reached to help her.
“I'll do it,” she said in a soft voice. As she slipped her hands under his to rearrange her bodice, she avoided looking at him, instead keeping her gaze on her fingers as she restored herself to some semblance of order.
Will tipped her chin up with a finger. “Are you feeling shy, Evie? There's no need, you know, not with me.”
She twisted her mouth in a wry smile, her cheeks faintly flushing pink. “It's silly, isn't it? I wasn't at all shy when we were, well, you know.” She waved a vague hand. “But now I can't help feeling rather . . . awkward.”
When her glance darted across the room to avoid his, Will knew something else was troubling her.
He grasped her gently around her ribcage, letting her breasts rest on his hands with a lovely, heavy weight. He might not have the time to take her again tonight, but he wouldn't rush her, not after the step they'd just taken together.
“Out with it, my girl. What's bothering you?”
Her nose twitched, as if something had tickled it, then she tilted her head and looked at him from under her golden lashes. It was so unconsciously sensual that his cock started to twitch back to life.
“I can't help thinking that this isn't truly what you want,” she said. “Last night was . . . not what I intended to happen between us. I'm afraid you're only doing this out of a sense of obligation to me, not because you wish for it.”
If she'd said that to him a week or two ago, he might have agreed. But with every passing moment Will was convinced that taking Evie for his wife was the right decision for both of them. “No one forced me to do anything. I'm doing exactly what I want to do.”
She worried her lower lip with her teeth, the sparkle in her eyes replaced by doubt. He hated that she questioned herself—and him—but given their past he couldn't blame her.
He flexed his pelvis, nudging into her with his stiffening cock. At this rate, he might never get her home.
When she gasped, her eyes going wide, he flashed a wolfish grin. “Does this feel like you're forcing me to do something I don't want to do?”
She gripped his shoulders. “N-no, but—”
He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her plump lips. “But what?”
“Well, Mamma once told us—”
“I thought we were leaving your mother out of this.”
She scrunched up her nose in an adorable grimace. “Sorry, you're right. You should just ignore me.”
He smiled. “That would be impossible. I can, however, guess what your mother said. She told you that men were insatiable brutes who would fornicate with any woman under any circumstance.”
She let out a sheepish laugh. “Well, yes. She was trying to warn us away from dangerous situations.”
He nodded. “Very wise of her, and for some men it's probably true. But not for me. I don't pretend to be a saint, Evie, but I'm not a rake, either. Especially when it comes to you.”
He moved his hands from around her body to capture her face between his palms. Her misty eyes gazed back at him, vulnerable and full of hope. Emotion rustled through him, along with the conviction that he must never betray that hope. “Evie, I've never cared about another woman the way I care about you, and I never shall. You are more important to me than anyone on this earth.”
Her eyelids fluttered down, the thick lashes a silken shield hiding her expression. Then she looked at him, and the happiness that blazed forth from her gaze rendered him speechless.
“Do you truly mean that?” she whispered.
He had to work to get the words past his tight vocal chords. “I promise that I do.”
She rested her cool fingers over the backs of his hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He tried to deepen it, but she suddenly murmured something against his mouth and pushed up.
“As happy as that makes me,” she said with a little grimace, “and as delighted as I would be to stay here forever with you, I must regretfully say that my knees beg to differ. In fact, if I don't get up soon I might end up crippled. I don't think
that
would be a very good start to our marriage.”
He laughed. “Indeed not, and it would be deuced awkward to explain how you ended up that way. Here, let me help you.”
He grasped her around the waist and lifted her up, and mentally sighed to lose the clasp of her luscious flesh around his cock. Evie wobbled a bit as her feet hit the floor, and he kept a firm grip until she was able to steady herself.
“I think my foot fell asleep.” She rested her hands on his shoulders and lifted a foot in the air, rotating it at the ankle.
“I'm sorry, Evie. Your mother was right—men are brutes. I promise that next time we're together, I'll make proper love to you in a bed.” Given his state of arousal as he watched her hobble over to retrieve her spencer from the chair, he could only hope that would happen as soon as possible.
As she restored her clothing to some semblance of order, he began to calculate how quickly they could wed. Evie didn't strike him as the type of girl who wanted an elaborate wedding or who needed to wait for a large trousseau, but her parents would find marriage by special license to be rather slipshod. Still, that might be the way to go in any case. Not only would he get Evie into his bed sooner rather than later, it would be less likely to irritate his father if they were married with little fanfare.
He came to his feet, absently putting himself to rights as he thought of all the things he needed to do over the next week or so—stopping a deadly conspiracy, breaking the news of his impending marriage to his surely annoyed father, and planning a wedding. Oh, and finding suitable accommodations for his bride. After he knocked all those items off his list, he could then turn his mind to how he would support his wife in the fashion she deserved.
Evie was struggling with the small buttons at the top of her bodice, so Will went to help her.
“I can't see a thing in this dratted light,” she said with a sigh, standing like a little girl as he finished dressing her. “I do hope we didn't sit on my glasses while we were, er, you know.”
“Never fear, my love, they're right here.” He retrieved the rather battered silver frames from the small table. “Although these do look a little worse for wear.”
“They're my spare pair.” She settled them on the bridge of her nose. They were slightly askew, giving her a rather comical air. “Edie's wearing my good ones.”
“Ah, yes, about that,” Will said, remembering that he was annoyed with her. “I do hope—”
“Now, Will,” she interrupted, “you're not going to be one of those husbands who is always scolding his wife, are you?”
“As I was about to say, I do hope you won't be one of those wives who continually hares off on crazy adventures.”
Her eyebrows tilted up over the rims of her spectacles. “You
do
know who I am, don't you?” She pointed a finger on her breastbone. “I'm Evelyn, the quiet one.”
“Well, I suppose I can forgive you this time, but no more midnight trips into St. Giles. Are we clear?”
“Will—”
“Evie, I need your promise on this,” he said quietly. “I won't be able to manage if I have to worry that you're running off into danger.”
Her mutinous look faded, and she went up on tiptoe and kissed him on the chin. “I suppose I can understand that, given that I've spent years worrying that you would be blown to bits on some battlefield.”
He grimaced. “Ouch. All right, I understand. And I also understand how committed you are to your work. But I expect you to keep me apprised of what you're doing and to keep yourself out of danger at all times.”
She nodded, but he had an uneasy sense she was only listening with half an ear.
“Will, I still need to speak with Michael,” she said bluntly. “He deserves an explanation and an apology.”
His gut pulled tight. “You weren't engaged to the man, Evie. You don't owe him an apology.”
Aside from the fact that he was learning that he was the jealous sort who didn't want his prospective bride spending private time with any man but him, Will wanted to keep her as far away from Beaumont as possible. After what he'd seen of that highly suspicious meeting in the kitchen, he was convinced that something dodgy was happening at St. Margaret's. If that was the case, it made sense to assume that Beaumont was involved until evidence indicated otherwise.
Evie made a scoffing noise and laid a hand on his chest. “You know that's not true. Michael is a good man, and he deserves to know why I've changed my mind.”
“He already knows why,” Will growled.
She rolled her eyes. “I knew you were going to be difficult. I won't put up with that, even from you.”
He was trying to formulate a response to that annoying statement when the small clock on the mantelpiece chimed out the hour.
“Oh, good God,” Evie gasped. “I didn't realize it was so late. We'll have to continue this later.”
“Fine,” Will said, resisting the urge to clench his teeth. He glanced around the room. “Where's your reticule?”
When he looked back at her, she'd gone beet red.
“Actually,” she said, “I need to, um, freshen up a bit, if you don't mind. Could you wait while I visit the . . .”
BOOK: How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy
3.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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