The Mistress of Trevelyan (36 page)

I opened my legs wider, wanting to feel more of him against me as his thrusts grew more and more insistent, until my body arched to meet his every move. My heart thundered, my blood rushed, and an ever-tightening need coiled in my loins.

"Ride with me," he demanded. "Feel me. Let yourself go with me."

I remembered our ride, the racing excitement, the freedom, and I shut my eyes, giving myself over completely to him and the frenzy consuming our passions. His body tightened, shuddered, and he pressed deeper. The force of his thrust lifted my hips high, and he slid his hand between our bodies, brushing over me just where I ached the most. Pleasure burst within me and went flooding through my body. I shuddered uncontrollably, totally at his mercy. But he was unmerciful. He thrust hard again, lifting my hips higher, pressing my head and shoulders deeper into the bed. Again his hand brushed insistently against my flesh as if he knew some magical place to touch me. Then an even greater pleasure tore through me, ripping apart my world with unimaginable sweet, agonizing pleasure. Stars exploded before my eyes, and his name exploded from my lips. I groaned softly as wave after wave of exquisite heaven washed over me. I was a mere grain of sand upon the shore of an ocean of pleasure, and Benedict was the tide of that new world.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

"Titania," Benedict breathed as he lowered his lips to mine. He kissed me so softly that tears sprang to my eyes. His tenderness in the wake of the passion we'd just shared touched my heart with a sweetness I had never known. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me, wanting to feel his heart as intimately against mine as I felt his arousal within me, but he held himself back.

"Let me hold you closer," I said.

"I will hurt you." His arms trembled with the strain of holding his full weight from me.

"I assure you, my constitution is not so fragile." I wrapped my arms tight about his neck and pulled hard. His arms gave away, and his full weight pressed me deeper into the bed. My breath flew from my lungs, and the immediate sensation of being close to him changed to one of being buried beneath the largest pile of laundry I'd ever known. I squirmed a little, trying to adjust, but couldn't seem to draw enough air into my lungs to function.

"Perhaps I was ... a bit hasty in my estimation of my... constitution."

His chest shook with laughter before, in a lightning-quick movement, he was on his back, with me on top of him, and him still inside me. I placed my palms on his chest, lifting myself enough to see his smile.

"I find your constitution extremely pleasing," he said. His hands slid down my back, and when he reached my bottom, he quite shockingly cupped my rear end and firmly pressed me against him. Then he continued to caress my bottom and the top of my thighs, evoking a rather disturbing response. The need that I thought he'd satisfied well enough to last me to eternity heated again. "Do you know why?" he asked.

I shook my head, staring at him, not trusting my voice to work. He paused, and his eyes darkened as he seemed to realize how important his response was to me.

"Let me show you." Hooking his hands around my thighs, he urged me to bend my knees to his hips. Then he eased my shoulders back from him until I sat upright upon him. Without his body pressed to me, hiding my nakedness, a sense of vulnerability stole through me. I felt unsure until I saw the hungry look in his dark eyes. He arched a little, seating himself deeper inside me, and an increasing pressure told me he was more aroused as well.

"Besides the fact that you're are woman to my man, an irreplaceable and infinitely gratifying fact"—he threaded his fingers through my hair, arranging the long tresses over my breasts and shoulders—"your hair is like silk between my fingers, soft and mink-like in color, especially in the sun. Many times since that first day when I checked you for an injury, I have closed my eyes and imagined threading my fingers through your hair again.

"Your eyes are the color of the early-morning mists upon the bay that I see from my window, and the sailor in me cannot help but want to explore deeper."

He brushed my hair aside and cupped my breasts, making me gasp with pleasure. "You have a fullness to your body that adds grace and stature to your height, which is a more perfect fit to me than any woman I have ever met.  I can touch you without fearing that you will break." Urging me forward, he leaned up and suckled one breast, bringing it to an aching peak as his fingers did the same with my other breast. "You respond to my desire with the heat of a blazing fire. In fact, I have lived so long in the cold, I had forgotten how good a fire can be."

I sighed, arching to him as his thumbs relentlessly brushed over the peaks of my breasts until my hips responded to his every touch. He pressed upward to the rhythm of his strokes. Not deep and thrusting like before, just a slight rock that left me aching for more.

Understanding his words was becoming fearfully difficult.  Inside me, the tension felt like a gathering storm.

He placed his hand over my heart "You have a giving heart that knows no end to what it will battle for another.

"You have a mind that captured my interest with your first words and continues to pull me ever deeper into its complexities. And you have a mouth that inflames me not only when you are lecturing, but when you are silent as well." He lifted his finger to my lips and slid it inside my mouth, searching until my tongue brushed against his fingertip. A stab of pleasure darted all the way to my toes then back to my femininity, which he filled so completely.

"But it is your passion, Titania, that enslaves me and fires my imagination with the thousands of ways to bring pleasure to us both." He drew a wet line down the center of my body with his damp finger, and he didn't stop until he found that very sensitive flesh so near where our bodies joined.

Thousands? I wondered for a moment but my body wanted nothing more than to lose myself within his. I vibrated with his every stroke, rocking gently, hearing the music of our lovemaking in the rushing of my blood. And he was a master caught within his own tune, because he arched off the bed like a string wound too tight, plucked too hard. This time the heaven and the stars slammed into me with the force of a runaway train, knocking the very breath from me. I fell against him, too weak to move, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

"Whatever are we going to do?" he whispered.

Guilt tried to reach out and pull me from his arms, but I turned my back on it, refusing to let this moment of happiness escape me. "Thousands?" I asked, not capable of saying more. I fell asleep, listening to his soft sigh.

It was still dark outside when I awoke to Benedict's kiss upon my neck and his hands cupping my breasts. I lay on my side with him pressed against my back. Moaning softly, I arched my back and felt the heated hardness of his arousal against my bottom.

He slid his hand down my stomach and cupped my feminine flesh. I was surprised to feel a slight soreness there, but the brush of his finger upon that place he seemed to find so easily overrode my senses with pleasure. "Titania," he whispered in my ear, his voice deep and rough with sleep and desire. "We should not be here. We should not be together, but I cannot let you go. Will you come to me again? Tonight?"

I knew he spoke true. I never should have crossed the threshold of his bedroom door, but I had to know him, just as I had to love him. Just as I loved Robert and Justin. Just as my heart thirsted for more of life than I had. I wasn't ready to let go of him. I wanted more than one night to remember.

"Tonight will you let me show you more pleasure?"

"Now," I urged, wiggling against him.

He sighed, then chuckled. "I fear you're going to be the death of me, woman. Or I of you. You need to rest some, or you will be too sore. But I want you to think about me pleasuring you. I want you to think about my kiss, my touch. I want you to think about me being inside you, filling your every desire. I want you to think about that all day."

Shifting my hip, I pressed against his hand, wanting more of his touch, feeling a little out of sorts. "Why ever did you get me so... so... expectant if I have to wait?"

"It is part of the fun," he said. Rolling from me, he patted my bottom lightly. "Now let's get you back to your room before we become fodder for the servants' gossip."

"More like torture than fun," I muttered, frowning at him as I sat up, clutching the sheet over my breasts. I stared at him with irritation as I watched him dress. His every muscle rippled with power as he moved. I couldn't help but notice how he filled everything. His trousers stretched taut across his buttocks and thighs, and his arousal made its own impression against the buttons. His shirt covered the breadth of his chest and shoulders like another skin; its tailored cut conformed to his every contour. His presence within a room seemed to take up any empty space, so that no matter which way I turned, I was aware of him there. Yes, the man filled everything to completion, but nothing more so than me. Tonight was an interminable time away. "Does that mean you are not running away on your business trip today?"

He turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow that said I'd best tread carefully. Then he sauntered to the bed and, with a devilish gleam in his eye, took hold of the sheet, snatching it away. His bold gaze roaming over my nakedness had me tingling everywhere. "No, I am not leaving. I am of the mind to delay that trip for a while and deal with the complexities here." He took another look at my "complexities." "And you, my dear, are seconds away from being completely ravaged this morning. But if you do not mind Dobbs walking in on that tableau, then..." He started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Dobbs?" I squeaked, scrambling from the bed. "Where's my nightgown?"

"Here," Benedict said, chuckling. Instead of handing me the gown, he put it on over my head, holding the sleeves out as I dressed, and then buttoned it up. He did the same with my robe and slippers, showing a gentle care in his every move. Taking up my lamp, he opened the door to the secret passage and led me to my room. Once there, he set the lamp down and pulled me into his arms, hugging me close to him. After a moment he stepped back, and with one hand on each of my cheeks, he gazed into my eyes. I saw so many things within the dark depth of his eyes that I wondered why I ever thought a woman would never be able to see his soul, because at that moment I did. I saw the soul of a man so needy that my heart ached for him, a man who'd stood alone so long that he no longer knew how to share the burdens he carried. I felt as if those burdens were going to suddenly descend and rip him away from me, for I could see the guilt lingering in his gaze, just as it lingered in my heart. But I refused to give it purchase on this moment of my life.

"Tonight," I said softly.

"Tonight." He sighed and placed a kiss upon my forehead, then left.

I stood there alone, seeing my reflection in the glass of the windows, wondering who the woman there was. She wasn't the same woman who'd come to Trevelyan Manor with determined practicality, but I liked her. I liked her warmth and passion and hope. The promise of dawn had yet to break through the mists surrounding Trevelyan Hill, yet I felt as warm as if I stood but inches away from the sun, and I turned my eyes away from any dark clouds looming ahead.

Come what may, last night would be forever mine. And tonight, too.

"Well, Robert," I said, looking down at the herbs we'd grown. "The plants will soon be big enough to pick and sell to Cook Thomas." Though it would be several weeks until we picked them, I thought it best to prepare Robert for what lay ahead.

Robert glared at the plants, looking upset. This wasn't going to be easy. The month since we planted them had passed in a blur of changes, all of which seemed to have hinged on the bond Benedict and I forged when Robert had been so ill. If that had not happened, I wondered if I would have gone to Benedict last night. Yes, I admitted, refusing to lie to myself. It might have taken me longer, but I would have eventually gone to Benedict, for I loved him.

Half a day had passed since he had seen me to my room, and I still felt all warm and wonderful inside, but troubled too. I wondered if I should question him about preventative measures against childbearing, but then I decided to educate myself about the matter first. I spent the morning in town scouring through the only other bookstore besides Mr. McGuire's. My search for material addressing the subject of how to avoid bearing children proved to be frustrating. I had but one medical book to show for my efforts, and I'd yet the time to read it.

Benedict's passion was more than I ever hoped to have, and I prayed with my whole heart that history wouldn't repeat itself, and have me bearing a child out of wedlock. That thought cast a dark shadow over the inner glow of Benedict's lovemaking.

How could I go to him a thousand times for pleasure and not care that I would bear a child? I couldn't. Soon I would have to lock the door to the secret passage and throw away the key. But not yet. I would chance fate just a little longer before I denied myself my heart's desire. And I would thoroughly investigate methods to prevent childbearing, but I'd do so with a heavy heart, for I could think of no greater joy than to hold my very own baby within my arms.

As I looked at Robert and Justin, I longed to bear Benedict's child, to carry his seed within me and nurture it to life. But I well knew the difficulties of that kind of life, and I prayed that I wasn't already with child. I also knew I had to settle for what blessings I had. Being Justin and Robert's governess had brought a fullness to my life that was irreplaceable. My time with them today seemed to take on an even deeper meaning in my heart. Not only did I love them for their own sake, but they were also a part of the man I loved, and that seemed to make the bond I felt stronger. Justin sat on the blanket, drawing in his science notebook, ever distant from what was happening around him. And Robert was about to be Robert.