The Rake (13 page)

There was repressed laughter in his voice,
but there was no doubting that he was completely serious,
particularly since he nuzzled his face in the cleft of her
buttocks. Even through her clothing she could feel the heat of his
breath and the imprint of his face against her lower cheeks and it
sent a jittery sort of twang along her nerve endings. Horrified,
she shoved at the hand he’d wrapped around her hips. Obligingly, he
withdrew his arm a little way, then slid his hand downward,
slipping it between her thighs and cupping her femininity.

Demi’s heart seemed to stop in her chest for
several moments, then launched into a full out gallop, making it
difficult to drag in a decent breath of air. She thought for
several moments that she might faint.

“
M-my lord!” she gasped
finally.

“
You wouldn’t deprive a
starving man, would you?”

He thought she was one of the maids, she
realized abruptly. He was suggesting … she allow him to toss her
skirts up. A barrage of conflicting emotions pelted her on that
instant, jealousy foremost among them--hurt and anger. It wiped out
much of the heated desire coursing through her at his intimate
touch, not all of it, but enough that she could think more
rationally.

He would not have touched her so familiarly,
she knew, if he’d realized who she was.

She slipped her hand down over his, the one
he’d pushed between her thighs--to pull him away, she
was--almost--certain. His fingers discovered the opening in her
pantalets at that moment, however, and one long finger stroked
along the seam of her nether lips. She froze, her breath caught in
her throat as a dizzying rush of unfamiliar sensations washed
through her.

He didn’t know her. It was too dark in the
room for him to recognize her. She could allow him to do anything
and he would never know. No one would ever know. It could be her
secret joy, that she’d given herself to the man she loved before
she had to receive the man she hated.

It was a wonderful, terrifying, thought.

But he’d been near death only a few days
earlier. Was he really up to something like this? And even if he
thought he was, should he?

She licked her lips. “You’ll….” She paused,
cleared her throat. “Ye’ll hurt yer leg, yer lordship. Yer not a
well man.”

He removed the hand that had been gently
exploring her. She thought he meant to release her. Instead, he
tugged her around, caught her waist and dragged her across him,
depositing her on the bed on her back on the other side of him.
Before she could do more than gasp in surprise, he covered her
mouth with his own.

He kissed her as if he was indeed starving,
as if he would consume her. The moment his mouth opened over hers,
such heat swept through her that it washed the last of her doubts
before it. She slipped her hand along his shoulder and threaded her
fingers in his dark, unbound hair, cupping the back of his head as
he possessed her mouth with hungry urgency. He cupped one hand
along her face, his fingers splayed. Slowly, as his tongue raked
along hers in an intimate dance that generated waves of heat
between them, he skated his hand downward, delved beneath the
neckline of her gown and scooped her breast from beneath the
fabric.

A cool breath of air wafted across her bare
breast, and she felt the skin tighten as her nipple hardened, blood
surging into the sensitive tip as he flicked the hardened bud it
had become with one finger. Her belly clenched. A wash of warmth
and moisture gathered in her femininity. She shifted beneath him in
discomfort, uncertain of the strange uneasiness that assailed her.
She forgot all about trying to analyze it, however, when he broke
the kiss and replaced his finger with his mouth on her breast. A
hard shock of sensation struck her the moment the heat of his mouth
closed over the tender tip that went well beyond the pleasure she’d
felt when he kissed her mouth.

She felt as if she was falling into a dark
tunnel, where her entire being was focused upon that one point of
intimacy, upon the heat and adhesion of his mouth, the teasing
nudge of his tongue. Dizziness swirled at the edges of her
consciousness. Weakness sucked at her body so that it took an
effort to cling to him.

She discovered that she was panting for
breath, little gasps that hovered on the edge of soft cries. The
sounds seemed to drive him beyond reason. He thrust her skirts up
around her waist, sliding his hand between her legs as he had
before, nudging her thighs.

Near mindless with unfamiliar sensations by
now, she was slow to react to that gentle instruction, but as she
felt his fingers push through the slit in her pantalets, she moved
her legs apart to allow him better access. The movement parted the
seam where her nether lips met, opening so that the sensitive inner
flesh was exposed to his exploration.

Breathing as raggedly as she was, he
released her long enough to scoop her other breast free and
fastened his mouth over that tip before sliding his hand downward
again to explore her femininity. She gasped, arching upward as his
finger traced the sensitive cleft, stroking her and finally
settling on the tiny nub of flesh at the very edge, massaging it
gently.

A small cry escaped her before she could
think to contain it. He lifted his head from her breast at once,
covering her mouth, absorbing the little cries he rung from her
with each movement of his finger. The muscles low in her belly
began to quake, clenching and releasing rhythmically. A sense of
desperation grew inside of her as her entire body seemed to wind
tighter and tighter with tension.

He slipped a knee between her parted thighs,
then stiffened, a low groan that was more pain than pleasure
rumbling from his chest. Abruptly, he pulled away from her and
sprawled flat of his back once more, his eyes squeezed tightly
shut.

Stunned by his sudden withdrawal, it took
Demi several moments to recover enough to figure out what had
happened. “My lord?”

He cursed beneath his breath. “My leg,” he
said between clenched teeth.

Dismay filled her. She glanced down at his
leg, discovering in the process that he’d thrown the covers off and
he was completely bare. Protruding from a thatch of dark hair low
on his belly was the member she’d felt before. It looked a great
deal like a stallion’s member … and a great deal different. It was
certainly not as large, which was a source of relief, but far
larger than she’d realized it would be. Did she have an opening on
her body large enough to accommodate that, she wondered?

The thought made her femininity clench,
removing any doubt from her mind of what particular part of her
body yearned to be filled with his engorged flesh. Tentatively, she
reached down to touch it. As her fingers tentatively explored the
heated length, it jerked, grew harder and broader and longer before
her eyes. A wave of heat went through her, and wonder.

He caught her exploring hand. “As much as it
grieves me to tease you and leave you in need--and myself for that
matter--I’m afraid my damnable leg will not allow me to pleasure
either of us,” he said roughly.

She glanced up at him, but even though her
eyes had adjusted to the gloom, she could tell little about his
features. Shadows lay across his face, but she could see the heated
gleam in his eyes, and frustration. She lay her cheek over his
pounding heart, then turned her head to place a kiss there. “Is
there no way, my lord?”

He tipped her chin up, studying her a long
moment, and pushed her skirts up. Catching one leg, he guided her
until she was sitting astride him. She splayed her hands on his
chest, looking down at him a little doubtfully. Reaching up, he
hooked a hand behind her head and drew her down for a deep kiss.
She felt his other hand moving between them, pushing the fabric of
her pantalets aside. Something hard and rounded, nudged against
her.

She tensed as she realized what it was, felt
him stretching her as he slowly inserted it.

Her heart hammering in her chest with both
fear and anticipation, she held herself perfectly still, waiting to
see what he would do next. He grasped her hips, pressing her down
and back in counter to the direction of his own hips. Her flesh
resisted the intrusion but the pressure intensified and slowly but
surely she felt him moving deeper and deeper inside of her.

He stopped finally, releasing her lips and
panting raggedly.

This could not be all, she thought
doubtfully, feeling as if she’d missed something very
important.

He caught her face between his hands. “It
will most likely hurt you when I breach your maiden head,” he said
harshly.

She’d heard people speak of
such, but she hadn’t realized there actually
was
a barrier inside of her. Fear
touched her, but she nodded her understanding, bracing herself. He
wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. “I
should not take it.”

Warmth flowed through her that had nothing
to do with the tension of desire he’d created in her. “It would
mean more to me to give it to you than you could possibly know,”
she whispered.

He kissed her, tenderly at first, and then
with more fire, stoking the desire that had begun to wane. Stroking
his hands along her back, he cupped her buttocks, shifting so that
his engorged member slid back and forth inside of her, slowly,
caressing the inner walls of her femininity. The tension of before
built rapidly. Her muscles seemed to relax, cupping around his sex
lovingly, but without the sense of being stretched almost beyond
their limits.

He caught her hips, guiding her into the
rhythm that complimented his own. As the tension of fear gave way
to the tension of desire, he thrust upward suddenly, hard, ripping
through the barrier and sinking so deeply inside of her that she
could feel his member bumping against her womb, feel his belly
grinding against her nether lips. The movement sent a wave of pain
through her.

She cried out into his mouth, wrenching away
from him. Ripples of fiery pain ran outward from the wound, but
like the spirits that had seemed to burn her belly, the fire
rapidly diminished into a throbbing heat.

A sense of euphoria washed over her with the
realization that he had claimed her as no other man ever would,
joined his body with her own in complete possession. Tentatively,
she moved against him as he’d shown her before. Ripples of both
pain and pleasure raked through her as she felt his swollen member
slip along her tender passage. She concentrated on the pleasure,
knowing from his ragged gasps that her movements pleased him. He
caught her hips, urging her to move faster. She followed his silent
instructions, focused her attention completely upon every faintest
sign that a certain speed or movement increased his pleasure. She
was hardly aware that her own pleasure kept pace, until she felt a
burgeoning inside of her, as if something momentous was striving to
break free.

As her arms tired, she pushed upward until
she was sitting upright. The position drove him more deeply inside
of her and she threw her head back, basking in the wealth of
exquisite sensation that wrapped around and threaded through her,
almost seeming to consume her, bouncing gently as she rose and
fell. He grasped her hips, lifting to meet her with more and more
desperation.

Abruptly, he grabbed her, pulling her down
and capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as he
hove upward, driving deep. Something shattered blindingly inside of
her, an explosion of such wonderful, powerful pleasure that she
gasped as it thundered through her. Inside her, she felt his
manhood jerk, felt a wash of heat as his seed spilled inside of
her, coating her womb and her passage.

Weak in the aftermath, she collapsed against
him, struggling to catch her breath. His arms tightened around her
back and across her buttocks as he held her crushingly, arching his
hips to thrust deeply inside of her again and again until the
spasms ceased and he lay as limply as she did.

Her sense of self was slow in returning,
awareness of her surroundings giving way little by little until her
senses began to focus beyond her own pounding heart, the heat and
dampness of his skin beneath her cheek, his ragged breath, slowly
returning to normal. Reluctance shivered over her, but she realized
that she had stayed far longer than she should have, knew Sarah
must be wondering what was keeping her.

“
I must go, my lord,” she
whispered finally.

His arms tightened, as if he would refuse to
release her. Finally, however, as if with great reluctance of his
own, he loosened his hold. “Come to me tomorrow,” he said
hoarsely.

She kissed him lightly on the shoulder. “Mr.
Fitzhugh is bound to wonder why I’m so anxious to gather your
laundry.”

He speared his fingers through her hair,
dislodging her cap. “I’ll make certain he takes himself off.”

Chuckling, she dropped a light kiss to his
shoulder and pulled away. He stopped her, catching her face between
his palms and kissing her lingeringly. She was breathless by the
time he released her and aware that his member, sated and limp only
moments before, had come to attention once more. “I can only
promise that I will try,” she said, straightening her cap and
moving off of him, careful not to jar his injured leg. When she’d
gained the floor once more, she gathered up the laundry.

He caught her skirt, halting her when she
began to move away. “I should be horsewhipped for what I just did
to you. I didn’t hurt you?”

She smiled, even though she doubted he could
see it. “Don’t say that. You’re no more at fault than I am and …
you gave me far more pleasure than pain, my lord.”