Lady of Pleasure (27 page)

Her eyes darkened with anguished emotion. “You broke her.”

A wretchedness of mind seized him. “Caroline. Give me a chance. For God’s sake, it’s all I want. It’s all I ask. A chance. Am I not worth that much to you?”

She momentarily closed her eyes, setting a hand to her lips. A breath escaped her. She eventually opened her eyes and lowered her hand, lifting her gaze to his. “I want proof that throughout all of this
I
was who you really wanted. That it wasn’t Lady Danbury you wanted in your arms but me.”

How did a man provide proof to a woman of his thoughts? It was impossible. He swiped back his hair which was falling into his eyes and knew all he could do was tell her about last night. He was about to look and feel stupid, but he knew he had to say it.

He shifted against the desk. “I can’t provide proof, per say, given it was in my head, but I can give you my word on what I am about to say. Will that do?”
She observed him. “It depends on what you say.”

“I see.” He swallowed. “So uh…last night.”

“Last night.”

“Yes. Last night. When you and I were—” He puffed out a breath, trying not to think about it. “When we were…
doing things
…in my mind, I was actually doing them with you and
to
you.”

She blinked and shifted toward him. “What do you mean?”

For some reason his face burned. It was like he was fourteen again. “What I mean is that I was having a fantasy about you while we were doing things.”

She blinked again. “I’m not comprehending.”

She was going to make him say it. Bugger. He cleared his throat in disbelief. “To keep me ‘stimulated’ with who I
thought
was Theodosia, I gave over to a fantasy that she was actually
you
. That I was back in that alcove with you and that I was finishing what we never got a chance to finish. And then I heard your voice. And then the blindfold came off. And it was as if…as if my fantasy had become a reality I wasn’t prepared to face. Because, hell on earth, you were really there.”

Her features flickered and her cheeks brightened. “So you were…you were fantasizing that she was…me? Without actually knowing it was me?”

He half-nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Yes. I even almost said your name at the end of it. When I was…” He wanted to crawl under the desk, but managed to say, “Finishing.”

An amused tremor touched her lips.

He could tell she wanted to laugh. His pulse pounded. “It’s not funny.”

A full-on smirk appeared. “To you it isn’t.”

She was playing with the wrong man to mock him at a time when he felt like an idiot. He grabbed her and yanked her and her full skirts hard against the length of his legs and blocked her against his own body which was still on the desk.

She froze, her smirk fading.

He dragged his hands down to her corseted waist and dug his fingers into the stiff yet soft material of her gown to keep himself from doing more. “Never laugh at me. Not when I am unfolding something important to you.”

Her lips parted and her eyes searched his face.

“Did I provide you the proof you wanted?” he asked, softening his voice. “Or would you rather I provide that proof now?”

She blinked rapidly. “Now?”

This was obviously going to require finesse. If he had to beg he would. “Yes. Now.” He dragged his hands up toward her full breasts that were heavy against his hand and curved them up to the softness of her throat, trying to control his breathing, trying to control her. “What do I have to do? What are my chances of making you my wife?”

She slowly leaned into him, searching his face. Her gloved hands gently smoothed their way up his chest before drifting toward his face. A soft breath escaped her. “Your chances may have improved.” She trailed the tips of her delicate fingers down the sides of his cheeks toward his chin, grazing his stubble.

An involuntary shudder overtook his entire body and his cock hardened. It hardened not just because of her touch, but because of the way she always kneeled to him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Something intense flared within him knowing he’d never wanted
any
woman like this. He jerked up her skirts, not caring if her mother heard their cries, and flung them out of his way and off to the side of them.

She stilled against him.

He raveled her petticoats around his one hand, silently waiting for her to object as he exposed more and more of her thighs.

Those pretty eyes merely held his gaze in pulsing silence.

“Call in your mother and keep me from doing this.” His voice broke with huskiness. “Before she hears everything.”

She hesitated, searching his face, and then whispered back, “She wouldn’t hear everything. She wouldn’t hear my heartbeat.”

Though he knew he wasn’t a man of many talents, there was one talent that he, Ronan, knew he specialized in. And he was using it. For her. For him. For them. Now.

Shifting his jaw, he slipped his bare hand between her smooth thighs, past the soft curls brushing his fingers and found that wetness and that nub. Holding her rigidly against his chest to keep her from moving, he searched her face and breathed out for only her to hear, “Be mine. Always.” They were words he had never spoken to any woman. They were words he meant and felt. He slowly rubbed and flicked her, letting her wetness cover his fingers.

She swayed against him, her hands gripping his shoulders hard as her cheeks flushed against her own accelerating breaths. Her eyes never left his. Her lips parted.

She looked like a woman ready to embrace the world.

And he wanted to be part of that world. Forever.

His chest rose and fell as he flicked and rubbed her faster and faster, until they were both panting in disbelief of what was happening. Feeling as though every bunched muscle in his body would pop knowing he was intimately touching Caroline in a way no man had, and that she was his, all his, he withdrew his hand and took her hand into his.

He dug his bare fingers into hers and moved them downward. He set them against the flap of his trousers, cupping her hand hard against the rigid line of his cock buried beneath the wool.

Though her cheeks were the color of fire, she boldly held his gaze, as if more than ready to prove to him that she was a lady who could and would oversee his pleasure and everything and anything he could ever want in life.

She daringly rubbed her hands against his length.

He seethed out a breath through his teeth and tightened his hold on her hand, tensely guiding her hand harder against the stiff length buried beneath the flap. He focused her fingers on the rounded tip of his cock through his trousers, guiding her to give him the pleasure he needed and wanted.

He swayed against the rippling sensation that overwhelmed him. It was overwhelming knowing she was touching him. Using her fingers, he unbuttoned his trousers.

Caroline lowered her gaze to his lips and slowly leaned in toward his mouth. She angled herself in to better fit her face toward his, given the brim of her bonnet.

Feeling his very mouth go dry, he instinctively moved his face in time to give his cheek to those lips.

She bumped her nose and lips against the side of his face. “Ronan.”

“Shhhh. It’s all right.” He focused and freed his cock, wanting to think of nothing but them and this. This and them. Shifting farther back onto the desk, he yanked her up and onto his lap. Gritting his teeth, he straddled her legs around him, pushing her thighs wide and open to expose her to him completely.

She dragged her moist lips from his cheek toward his lips again.

He moved his head again, feeling that crawling sensation. It was distracting. “No. Don’t.”

She paused.

Swallowing hard, he re-focused again and firmly shoved the bundled material of her gown off to the side, wishing she was naked. His breath came in heavy takes as he positioned the rigid length of his cock to enter her. “Ride me.”

Caroline grabbed his face and positioned it up toward her own. “Kiss me,” she whispered, trying to bring her lips against his.

Panic scraped him. Grabbing her shoulders hard, he jerked her away from himself before those moist lips touched his.

She froze against him.

He swallowed, feeling awkward, and eased his grip.

She searched his face, her hands stilling against his shoulders. She gripped his morning coat. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

He felt like punching himself. “I know. I’m just…I can’t. I don’t do kissing.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t— What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

He tightened his hold on her and almost wanted to shake her for making him feel like an aberration. “I don’t do anything involving mouth to mouth.”

She stared. “Why?”

As if he was going to tell her why. “Kissing isn’t everything, you know.”

Her lips parted. “But it means everything to me.”

“Yes, well, you’re going to have to swallow this one, Caroline. Because I don’t do it. I don’t like doing it.”

“You don’t like…?” She blinked rapidly, hesitated, and then softened her voice. “Can you at least try? For me? Maybe you will like it.”

“No. I never liked it.”

“But maybe we could…I have never kissed anyone before either. It would be like your first time and mine. It would be…
romantic
.” She smiled shyly and then leaned in again.

His chest tightened and he knew he couldn’t. He edged back. “Don’t.”

Her smile faded and she stared. “You won’t even try?”

Jesus. He buried his head into the velvet warmth of her neck, wanting to focus on her jasmine scent and her softness instead. He didn’t want to feel like a freak. All he wanted was this. Her.

“Ronan, what—”

“Don’t do this to me, Caroline. Don’t.” Tensing, he quickly guided his rigid cock into the tip of her wet warmth and tried to push into her, holding her hard against himself. Wanting her. Needing her.

She pushed at him, shoving him back and scrambled off, her bonnet bumping the side of his face.

He froze, his hands falling against the desk to catch himself.

She slid off him and back onto the floor, pushing down her skirts. She shook her head and kept shaking it. “No. I…I’ll not be taken like I was last night. I’ll not.”

Feeling his face burn, he quickly pushed his erection back into his trousers and buttoned the flap. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Caroline veered in, her arched brows coming together in an agonized expression. “Am I not worthy of an affection that goes beyond…
this
!” She gestured toward his trousers. “Am I not worthy of being kissed?”

His startled gaze met hers. He grabbed her arms. “Worthiness has no place in this. It’s not like that.”

“Then what?” She pushed away from his arms. “What is it? Say it! Is there another? Already?”

“Another? No!” He tried to grab her back. “Caroline, for God’s sake, I can’t—”

“Don’t touch me!” She smacked away his hands and frantically dug out something from her bodice. She held up his gold sovereign. “Take it.” She grabbed his hand and shoved the coin into it, forcing his bare fingers to close around its warmth which he knew had touched her skin. “You made a promise to me that if I kept this for you, that if I cradled it, in return, you would give me anything I wanted. And though I doubt you have the means to keep that promise, do you know what I want? Do you?”

She took several slow steps back, distancing herself more and more, as tears streamed down her face. “
You
. All I ever wanted was you. But not like this. Because this isn’t you. This isn’t the man I fell in love with. This isn’t the man who played piquet with me for hours to keep me from being lonely or feeling unwanted by society. This isn’t the man who taught me French. The man you are offering me is one I don’t recognize or wish to know. I want
Persuasion
. Not…
obscenity
, Ronan. Because I
never
spent my hours thinking about…
your cock
! I spent my hours thinking about our first kiss. Our kiss. And if
this
is how you plan on entering into our marriage, thinking that what I value most is nothing and can be brushed aside to make room for what only
you
want, then there is nothing left for me to cradle here. Because I’m done giving you myself at the cost of myself. I’m done giving you
everything
while you continue to give me
nothing
. I want more. I
deserve
more! But something tells me
this
is all I will ever get. And as such, don’t call on me. Don’t.”

She bowed her head curtly, the white curled lace within her bonnet fluttering, then turned and bustled toward the doors, her heeled slippers clicking against the wood floors. She slid open both doors of the parlor and disappeared, the harried clicking of her slippers continuing down the corridor and out of his life.

He staggered, unable to believe what was happening.

She was walking out of his life.

Ronan fisted the coin hard, letting it bite into the skin of his palm and scrambled up from the edge of the desk. “
Caroline
!” He darted toward the open doors, panicking at the thought of never seeing her again.

He skidded out into the corridor, turned and paused.

Caroline, who already stood at the far end of the corridor, turned her slim figure toward him, her skirts rustling against the white marble floor in the drumming silence that spanned between them. The light from the windows from the rooms beyond illuminated her face and bonnet.

He held up the coin, shaking it and quickly made his way toward her. “You will get what you want. You will get Captain Wentworth if that is what you want. I just need time. Give me time.”

“
Time
?” she echoed. “When I have already given you seven years of my life without so much as a word of what you truly feel for me? No. I’m done giving you time. I’m done anguishing over what more I can give you. Because I don’t need you to be Captain Wentworth, Ronan, but I damn well won’t be settling for Sir Walter Elliot, either.” She glanced toward her mother who was lingering in the corridor, a choked sob escaping her. “We are leaving, Mama.” With a rustle of her skirts, Caroline hurried toward the entrance door, flung it open with a bang that rattled the walls and rushed out.