The Training of a Marquess (23 page)

His hands moved over her back as she snuggled further into him. He curled her hair around his hand, gently pulled her face away from his chest and stared down at her with eyes the blue of an agitated ocean, dark and stormy.

“Claire,” he murmured and lowered his head.

His mouth moved over hers in a playful tease. Her tongue slipped out and licked his bottom lip, wanting to taste him. He growled and the teasing turned into a kiss so deeply carnal that her legs lost their ability to support her. His arm tightened around her back, the only thing holding her up.

He broke the kiss and eased off the wall, picked her up and carried her to a lounge partially hidden by several tall potted plants. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in this neck. The scent of bergamot, milled soap and the male musk that was him drugged her senses. No words had been spoken between them since he had whispered her name, but none seemed needed to name this want growing inside her. Did he feel it, too?

For tonight, he would belong to her.

He would still take her to London, but it no longer mattered. He was hers and she was going to keep him. If it took weeks of gentlemen dancing attendance to prove to him she was his—always and forever—then so be it. If that was what he needed to trust in her love, then she wouldn’t deny him.

Still holding her, he lowered himself onto the lounge, arranging her to his satisfaction. When he was done, she sat between his legs with her back against his chest. She leaned forward and peered over her shoulder. “I will offer you a trade. I’ll remove my dressing gown if you will remove your shirt.”

Before she could twice blink, his shirt was gone, tossed away to land across one of the potted plants. She smiled her approval and bent her head to unbutton her dressing gown.

“No, allow me.”

His arms came around her and he expertly unbuttoned her dressing gown. If he did nothing but sit behind her all night so she felt his warm breath on her neck as he held her, she would be happy. The way he nestled his head against hers so their cheeks touched made it easy to pretend he loved her.

Maybe the day would come when he did, but if not, she would cherish the memory of being with him.

“Sit up.”

The rumble of his voice in her ear sent shivers down her back. Claire moved away to give him room to slide the gown down her arms, lifting her bottom so he could pull it down her legs. He tossed it away, and it landed half over his shirt. She whimsically imagined the garments were pleased with the arrangement.

His fingers caressed her neck as he pulled her hair aside. Lowering his head until his lips brushed her ear, he asked, “Did you wear this silk nightdress for me?”

“No, I always wear silk to bed. I like the way it feels on my skin.”

Another growl, this one vibrating through her. Heat pooled in her secret place, proof of her desire she now knew. His mouth explored her neck causing her to whisper his name in a plea.

“Hush. Close your eyes, love, and just feel.”

Love.
It was the first time he had called her love. The word settled over her, seducing her as finely as his heated kisses and caressing hands. Obeying, she closed her eyes, giving herself over to him.

Chase inwardly cringed. He hadn’t meant to call her love. He had only told one woman he loved her, but had called the women he’d been intimate with, luv. Claire deserved better. She wasn’t a dalliance, not a woman he used only to satisfy his needs.

Yet, he’d called her love. Not luv. The difference was important to both of them, though she didn’t realize it.

Christ in heaven, her skin was incredibly soft and as silky as the nightdress she wore. Following his own instructions to her, he closed his eyes, giving himself over to the feel of her in his arms. He nibbled his way down her neck to her shoulder, inhaling her violet scent as he explored her body.

Pulling the ribbon undone on the front of the nightdress, he slipped his hand inside and cupped a breast. A very perfect breast—more than enough to fill his hand. Her nipple peaked when he flicked his thumb over it, and he couldn’t help his smile when she trembled. He slipped his other hand below the silk so that he held a breast in each hand. Tonight, he wasn’t going to stop until he claimed her. That should worry him.

Sleep had been elusive because of her so he’d come down to the courtyard. Would she appear? If she didn’t, then he wouldn’t touch her until they went to London and he had the answer to his question. Or so he told himself. But he’d known in his heart she would walk through the door. When she did, he would break his promise and make love to her.

He would still give her a Season because if he didn’t—if he didn’t prove to his heart he could trust her—he would always hold a part of himself back and that was unacceptable. He was a man who when he loved, he loved with all that he was. When he offered his heart again, he would settle for nothing less than forever and a day from her as well as himself.

“Do you want me?” He slid his hand over the silk of her dressing gown, down to her belly. “Do you want me, Claire?”

She nodded.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Chase. I do.”

There was nothing else he needed to hear. “Come here then.” She snuggled her back against him as if there was nowhere else she belonged.

“Now what?”

“Well, that’s up to you, but what I’d like is to get this gown off you.”

“How remarkable.”

“Hmmm?” He nibbled on her ear. “Why’s that?”

She inclined her head, giving him better access to her neck. “Because we both want the same thing.”

Chase gathered the material in his hand and pulled up. She lifted her bottom and he slipped the gown over her head, dropping it on the floor.

He angled his head around hers and feasted on the sight of her beautiful body. “My God, you’re beautiful.”

She twisted in his arms and squatted on her knees facing him. “You, too,” she said, reaching for the buttons on his trousers.

He lowered his arms and let her have at him. She fumbled with the buttons and his male pride growled its approval that she was inexperienced at the thing. When she finally managed the last button, she pulled his breeches over his hips and down his legs.

For some reason, his feet seemed to fascinate her. Her hands explored his toes, the bottoms of his feet and the tops. They had never been made love to before and quite liked it. Her touch sent little shivers up his legs. While she played, his eyes devoured her body.

She was taller than most women, her arms and legs firm from working with the horses. Her hips flared out before curving into a small waist. Her belly was flat and her breasts, as he had discovered, were perfect. Her pale hair fell down her back to her waist.

Everything about her called to something primitive inside him. He wanted nothing more than to cover her body with his and bury himself deep inside her. But she was enjoying her explorations, so he mustered his control, allowing her to have her fun.

She peered up at him and grinned. “I had wondered what they felt like. Now I know.”

“And now that you have explored every inch of them, what do you think?”

“Oh, they are fine feet and I like them very much.”

She turned her attentions to his legs, but her eyes focused on his erection. His cock jerked as her hands came near it.

“May I touch it?”

“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you.”

“I’ve always wondered what a man looked like.”

She reached out with one finger and poked it. His laugh died in his throat when she wrapped her hand around him. It was apparent she wasn’t sure what to do with him now that she had him in hand, but he didn’t give a damn. Her tentative, inexperienced touches were driving him wild. Christ in heaven, what would it do to him when she gained experience? He might expire from the pleasure, but he would die a happy man.

“Enough,” he said. “Come up here.”

She crawled up his body. “I haven’t finished learning you,” she protested and then licked his nipple.

Chase almost came out of his skin. “Claire.” He pulled her up so she was lying atop his body and kissed her. Her breasts pressed against him, and he trailed his hands down to her bottom. He slid a finger inside her and she was wet, oh so wet. She moaned into his mouth. The taste of her, the feel of her, the little mewling sounds she made were too much and his control flew away on the wind. Flipping her over, he covered her body with his.

“Now. I have to have you now.”

In answer, she grabbed his head, pushing her tongue into his mouth, their tongues meeting in a fierce duel. Chase wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock and guided it to the entrance of her sheath. She was tight and he forced himself to go slow, to be gentle. He pushed a little deeper and stopped to let her get used to him. Christ in heaven, she felt good.

Claire knew he was afraid of hurting her, but it didn’t hurt, not the way it had with Thomas. She wrapped her legs around his bottom and pressed down. “Please.”

He groaned and slid fully inside her, then stilled. Burying his face in her neck, he sucked on her skin sending ripples of pleasure through her. She turned her head to the side, giving him better access. When he pulled back, she tightened her legs to keep him from leaving.

His soft chuckle sent hot puffs of breaths over the damp skin where his mouth had been. He pushed back into her and then began a rhythm she recognized, yet didn’t. Thomas had done this, but it had been accompanied by grunts on his part and pain on hers. With Chase, it was so good. As he moved inside her, a pressure built. All thoughts of Thomas evaporated.

Her lungs turned to bellows as she struggled for air. Now that she understood what was possible, she greedily reached for it, wanted to feel the intense pleasure again. A drop of sweat rolled down his neck and she licked it away with her tongue, tasting salt and him. A rumble sounded deep in his throat as his movements quickened. Wanting to see his face—to know if joining with her affected him as much as her, she kept her eyes open.

His jaws were rigid, his lips pressed together and his eyes were fixed on her. He made her think of a fierce warrior of medieval days come to storm the castle. She surrendered the castle without thought. “Take me,” she said.

He reached between them and flicked her most secret place with his finger.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Air left her lungs and her vision blurred as her body soared to the stars.

He pumped hard twice more and then pulled out of her, his seed burning its way across her belly. Before she could think why he did that, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was feral in its savagery. She met his beast with her own.

I will always love you
. Because she didn’t say it aloud, she didn’t have to hear him say she didn’t know her mind. But she did, God, she did.

He flipped them over so she was once again sprawled atop him. With a gentleness that touched her deeply, he pushed her damp hair from her face.

“I cannot imagine why, but all my strength seems to have deserted me,” he said, giving her a dimpled, lopsided grin. “You were at risk of me collapsing on you and smothering you.”

“Hmmm.” She felt boneless. Wherever his strength had gone, hers had gone with it. She laid her head on his chest, closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal, falling asleep wrapped in his protective warmth.

Chase stroked Claire’s back in lazy circles. She had fallen asleep. It felt right to have her in his arms. If Teresa had returned his love, this is how it could have been between them. But it had never been quite right for them. He’d tried so hard to please her, to make her happy. His best had not been enough, and he’d kept his hurt hidden. It was her loss.

His breath hitched with this new realization. He hadn’t let her down, had been there for her to the end. He had offered her the moon and stars, but she hadn’t been able to put her misery behind her and accept the gift of his love. The pieces of his heart that had shriveled up with her loss unfurled like a desert plant with the first rainfall. The knowledge that he could truly find happiness again staggered him.

He tightened his hold on the sleeping woman in his arms. Withdrawing before he climaxed had been near impossible, but he refused to risk getting her with child before he had a ring on her finger. He pulled a strand of hair through his fingers, bringing it to his nose and inhaling her scent.

Claire was nothing like Teresa. She wasn’t needy or damaged. Even after what her father had done to her by marrying her to Derebourne, and even after the loss of her son, she had found a way to bring meaning into her life with her horses. She was strong. If he refused to marry her, but gave her a home and her horses, she would carry on with her life in a way that would bring her happiness.

Forever and a day
, she’d said. He was beginning to believe her. But she could survive without him and he liked that about her. If they did marry, he could be himself. He wouldn’t have to put his needs aside for her. They would love and they would fight, but they would always be there for each other. Did he love her? No, but he was getting damn close.

Should he still take her to London? Yes. The facts hadn’t changed. The beast in him growled at the thought of other men coming near her, but he had set himself on this course and surely he could bear it for a few weeks.

He kissed the top of her head. “Claire.”

No response, only the steady rhythm of her breathing. She slept so trustingly in his arms that he didn’t want to disturb her. But the servants would be awake in a few hours and he didn’t want a scandal attached to her name.

“Claire, wake up.”

She mumbled something incoherent and snuggled into him. He glanced over to where her nightdress was draped over a bush. Reaching over, he snagged it with his hand. He struggled to get it over her head and through her arms, chuckling when he thought that he was an expert on removing a lady’s clothing, but not so much at putting them back on.

She was so deeply asleep that it was like trying to dress a cloth doll, but he finally managed to get her nightdress on. He stood with her in his arms and lowered her onto the lounge. After quickly dressing, he picked up their glasses. Draining what was left of his brandy, he went to the kitchen and rinsed them out and returned them to the side table in the dining room.