Lords Of Desire Part 25

"Oh." She kissed his jaw. "Well, this lady wishes to be taken to bed immediately."

"I see." He grinned. "Then I shall be delighted to obey." He scooped her up and deposited her on the narrow bed.

He stopped just to look at her. He'd never thought to see her like this again-her black hair spread over his pillow, her creamy white shoulders on his sheets. He loved her mind and her heart, but he also very much loved her body-the graceful mounds of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with their lovely rosy nipples, the delicate curve of her waist sliding into her hips' generous flare, the beautiful dark curls marking the place he would enter in just a little while.

He bent to slip off her shoes, to peel off her stockings, running his hands slowly over her knees and calves. He breathed in the musky scent of her need.

He couldn't resist. He bent quickly and kissed her there, drank- "Ack!" Nell grabbed his hair and tried to tug him away. "What are you doing?"

He swirled his tongue over her. "Don't you like this, Nell?" He slid his hands under her hips, lifting her so he could drink more deeply, lapping over the hard little point of flesh hidden there.

"Oh. Ah. Ohh."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yess."

She was hot, panting, twisting on the sheets. She smelled of woman, pa.s.sion, and Nell. He could not remember ever being so happy.

A particularly insistent organ reminded him he would be even happier soon. Sooner if he would just get on with it.

Nell, wise girl, apparently agreed. "Ian." She tugged on his hair again. "Now. Please. I don't want to be alone any longer."

He put her hips down and leaned over her. "And I don't want to be alone any longer, either." He kissed her mouth slowly, then moved to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her nipples. Mmm. He suckled one while he slid his finger back over the wet, sensitive flesh at the opening of her pa.s.sage.

Her hips jerked up and she squeaked. "Ian, get your breeches off now. I canna wait any longer."

"Yes, milady. As ye wish." He scrambled off the bed and out of the rest of his clothing.

Nell watched him through a haze of desire. She literally ached for him. The past, the present-everything came down to this room, this bed, the small opening between her thighs that cried for him. She was mad with l.u.s.t-and with love.

He came to her and she spread her legs to welcome him. Ah. The moment he touched her there, she began to come apart. As he slid into her, her body shivered and clenched around him. He moved once, twice...and then she felt his warm seed fill her.

Had he given her life? Had they started a child?

They had started their love, their marriage again. If children came, that would be an extra blessing. She sighed and ran her hands down his sweat-slicked back. She felt she would burst with the love that filled her.

He chuckled. "That was quick."

"Mmm."

"I'm not usually so fast, you know."

"Mmm. I was fast, too."

"G.o.d, Nell." He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "I've missed you."

She cupped his jaw. "And I've missed you."

"You won't change your mind, will you? You won't leave me again? I couldna bear it if ye did." His words whispered over her mouth.

"Nay, Ian, I've learned my lesson well." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "I intend to stick to ye like a burr."

The corner of his mouth curved up and he flexed his hips. "A burr? Are ye close enough now, then? Shall I keep you stuck to me like this?"

She giggled. She felt him growing thicker inside her. "Yes, please."

"Mmm." He kissed her again-and then raised his head. "What's this?" He frowned, touching her tears with his fingers. "You're crying."

"Tears of joy." She wiped her cheeks. "I've been so fashed since I got here-since before I got here." She giggled again. "I haven't been sleeping well, ye know."

"Aye." The other corner of his mouth slid up. "I weel know that. I've not been sleeping much myself." He leaned down to kiss her nose and flexed his hips again. "Shall we-" He paused, and then slid quickly out of her body, pulling the coverlet up over them.

"Don't-"

He put his finger on her lips and grinned. "I've got sharp ears-the result of my ill-spent time away from you, Nell. We're about to have company."

"What?" Nell's gaze swiveled to the door. Sure enough, it was opening. Nell dove farther under the coverlet as Annie came in with an armful of clothes.

"Miss Smyth said ye'd be here, milady, so I-" Annie finally looked over at the bed. Her jaw dropped-and then she grinned. "Weel, what do ye know?"

Nell was certain she would expire of embarra.s.sment. She looked at Ian-the man was shaking with laughter! It was obvious he'd be no help at all. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, Annie? Lord Kilgorn and I were-" Ian was still laughing. She was certainly not going to say what they'd been doing-though only an idiot would not be able to surmise the answer. "Well, did you need something?"

Annie was laughing as well. "No, milady. I'll just be going. I'll tell Mrs. Gilbert she needn't worry about getting a room ready for milord." She opened the door. "Ma will be so pleased."

Nell flopped back on the pillows the moment the door clicked shut. Ian was now laughing so hard tears ran down his cheeks and he gasped for breath.

"Oh, stop it. In minutes the entire house party will know exactly what we were doing."

That cured him. He stopped laughing to put his large hand on her breast. "Splendid. Let's be certain to live up to even the most lurid gossip."

"But-oh. Um. Mmm."

Nell decided she did not really feel like arguing.

LESSONS IN PLEASURE.

VICTORIA DAHL.

For my sister, Danielle.

CHAPTER 1.

London, 1875.

Sarah Rose Hood was in love with her husband. She was almost sure of it.

James was kind and handsome. Considerate and smart. He'd taken good care of her in the two months they'd been married, providing a home and servants and new dresses. She loved him. Surely.

And she feared him. Just a tiny bit.

"I'll be late, I'm afraid," he said, picking up his gloves from the parlor table. He smiled as he tugged them on. "Hanover will want to discuss the provisions of the new bill, and you know how he tends to go on."

Sarah nodded as if she did.

"You needn't wait up." His rich voice traveled in waves over her skin as he leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek. "Good night, Sarah."

She had to hide a shiver at his touch. "Good night," she returned, still breathing in the strange spice of his soap.

Strange. That was the best word to describe her feelings of late. It was decidedly strange to live in such intimate proximity with a man. Strange to be so abruptly picked up from a life sheltered from the attentions of gentlemen and then simply plopped down into a marriage and everything that entailed.

Not that she hadn't wanted to marry James. She had craved it, but...

When she heard the front door close, Sarah shook her head and rose to her feet to ring for dinner. The meal would be a solitary affair, as it always was on the nights James spent at his club. She didn't mind. James encouraged her to invite friends over to keep her company; he worried she was lonely. But these evenings alone gave her time to breathe, time free of worrying if she were behaving the way a wife ought to and filling her time with appropriate activities.

The meal of boiled beef and pudding ticked by in peaceful silence, and Sarah spent the rest of her evening curled in a chair in the cozy parlor, sipping wine as she soaked up the drama of the new novel she'd purchased that day. Reading was her greatest indulgence, and James encouraged her to spend as much as she pleased at her favorite bookshop. Another reason she was certain she must love him.

The new novel proved far too delicious, and the wine as well. When Sarah looked up from the story of high-seas adventure and frightening storms, she realized that it was after ten and past time to ready for bed. When she rose too quickly, her head swam with wooziness.

"Oh, my," she breathed, pressing her palm to her forehead. One gla.s.s of wine too many. Or two.

She wobbled a bit as she made her way carefully across the room and headed straight for the stairs. Thank G.o.d James hadn't come home early to find her drunk. And thank G.o.d he'd hired her a quick and capable lady's maid. Sarah felt a sudden urge to hug the girl when a few tugs freed Sarah from the tight embrace of her corset. The deep breath she drew sent sparks floating before her eyes.

"Oh, thank you, Mary!"

"You're welcome, ma'am," the maid responded, her Irish brogue soothing as a whisper.

Each unrestricted breath felt better than the last. An ache took over her ribs and then faded into a pleasant warmth. Sarah smiled at the wall. "Where did you work before you came to us, Mary?"

The girl's fingers froze for a bare second on Sarah's leg before she continued unfastening the stockings. Sarah immediately regretted the question. She did not speak to Mary about personal things. The wine had loosened her tongue.

"I worked for a Mrs. Albertson, ma'am. I was maid to her and her two daughters. They were sixteen and eighteen."

"Ah. I hope I am easier work then. Simpler, at least."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Girls of that age can be difficult." But of course, she herself was only twenty. Another strange thought.

Most of her friends had held secret fantasies of marrying up. A gentleman of the ton, perhaps, who would sweep a girl into that sparkling swirl of society parties and elegant country retreats. But Sarah had never wanted that. She had wanted love and friendship. Comfort and compatibility. A man of her father's station in life.

When she'd met James, a young barrister who'd just acquired a seat in the commons, her heart had turned over and then beat so hard she'd wondered if he could see the pulse in her neck. He was tall and handsome, his dark hair a fascinating contrast to pale green eyes. And then he'd smiled.

Sarah pressed a hand to her chest as her heart jumped to life at the memory.

"Ma'am?"

Blinking, she found that Mary was standing before her, holding a gown of delicate muslin. "Oh, so sorry." Sarah dutifully held her arms up and let Mary pull her chemise off over her head. Her body was exposed for a moment, pale and vulnerable. She closed her eyes until Mary pulled the sleeveless nightgown into place.

They were nearly done. She would sit in her chair for a few moments while Mary took down the hair she'd braided that morning. She would brush it out and then tidy up before lowering the lamps and leaving her mistress to herself.

Sarah felt the pins in her hair loosen. "Do you have family?" she blurted out, wanting to continue the conversation for reasons she could not fathom. There was that infinitesimal pause in the maid's hands again, but Sarah looked into the mirror and saw Mary nod. "Aye, ma'am. Two brothers, two sisters. A father. Me mum died when I was young."

"Oh. Mine also."

Mary nodded, subsiding into silence. Sarah could not fault her. She had valued the girl's silence all these weeks. It was not Mary's fault that Sarah felt so odd and restless tonight. The wine should have left her exhausted, but while she felt sleepy, her muscles were buzzing beneath her skin, her mind falling over itself with too many thoughts. But she let Mary be, and soon found herself tucked into bed and staring wide-eyed into the dark.

James would join her soon. They shared a bed, and that was, without a doubt, the very strangest part of being a married woman. She, who before marriage had never even seen a man's bare arms, slept in a man's bed every night. Felt his skin and his muscle against her. Breathed in the scent of his body. Eased him with her own.

Kicking her legs restlessly beneath the covers, Sarah flipped over and buried her face in the pillow. Sleep felt so far away, despite her weariness. And each minute that pa.s.sed, a new thought of James spun through her mind.

Their wedding night. Lying alone in this very bed, awaiting him. His first careful touches. The strange texture of the hair on his body. The warmth of his mouth, his hands. The knowledge that he could do as he pleased.

Her absolute mortification.

But he'd been gentle and patient and kind, and she'd tried very hard not to be afraid.

She'd grown accustomed to the idea now, but it still did not feel natural. It still felt...strange.

But not as strange as her body felt tonight.

Her mind could not rest. Anxious thoughts skittered through her head, frightening sleep away. She loved him, or wanted to, and the more fond she grew of him, the more worried she became.

She had a secret. A secret she should have revealed to James before they'd married, before she'd even accepted his suit. Now her lie of omission sat between them like a fence, and Sarah was on one side, pacing and alone.

All she wanted now was to throw herself over that fence and into his strong arms, but fear kept her feet glued to the ground.

Sighing, Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will herself to relax enough to sleep.

James Hood handed his coat and hat to the butler and rolled his weary shoulders. By G.o.d, he was tired. The hours he'd spent fighting for this d.a.m.ned agricultural measure over the past weeks had finally caught up with him. But it was done for now, and the next fight wouldn't start for...oh, probably three or four days.

He headed straight for his library, then paused at the threshold. Normally, he'd spend another hour there, gathering his thoughts, taking notes, and writing letters. But tonight...tonight his neck ached and his throat felt raw from too many days spent breathing in the cigar smoke of his colleagues. Tonight he wanted sleep.

Or...perhaps not just sleep. His gaze shifted toward the dark oak of the wide stairway. His wife was upstairs. His sweet, shy wife. Sarah had likely retired hours ago, and he wasn't brutish enough to wake her just to sate his needs.