Chapter Ten
Rhys removed his banyan and stood gloriously naked before her. His chest and shoulders were corded with sleek muscle, full of power and elegance. Tight buttocks flowed into lean, strong legs. The man’s body was a work of art she wanted to worship with her lips. The shivering sensation low in her stomach felt as if she were falling. Wordlessly he padded over and drew her to him. He first kissed her gently, then with ravenous need, and then again tenderly.
His head dipped, and fire licked at her as his hot tongue stabbed at her nipples, pooling wetness between her legs. He lowered her onto the bed, split her legs open wide, and stared at her…there. Her entire body blushed. Georgiana’s breath hitched when he sank to his knees in front of her. His intense appraisal was frank and unapologetic. Without speaking, he grabbed the back of her knees and slid her closer to the edge of the bed, ensuring her exposed core was more accessible.
“Have you ever been licked here?” he murmured, lightly skimming a finger over her core.
“No.”
“Spread your legs wider.”
When she failed to obey, he gripped her knees and pushed out, opening her in a lascivious sprawl. Her breath exploded on a hoarse gasp. Rhys dipped his head. His lips covered her clitoris, his tongue stroked it, and she screamed. “Rhys!” Shock gave way to acute pleasure. Oh sweet God in heaven.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” he whispered against her sensitive flesh. “From the moment I met you.”
The scoundrel. She fisted her hands in his hair and held on for dear life. Every lick and stroke were marvelously wild, and she unraveled with a hoarse cry of pleasure. It was the most incredibly erotic thing she had ever known in her life. He pressed heated wet kisses against her lower stomach, his warm tongue stroked one nipple, and up to her lips.
“You’re so sweet and passionate,” he groaned appreciatively.
He fisted his length and placed it against her entrance. Rhys’s eyes blazed with a sensual hunger that thrilled her. “I want to be slow and pepper you with praises and sweet words, but I need you.”
“I don’t want slow,” she breathed.
“Hold me, duchess.”
She wrapped her hands around his neck tightly. He widened her legs with his powerful thighs and entered her body slowly. Her breath caught at the tight, stretching sensation, and she bit her lower lip to keep from screaming.
“You’re tight but so wet you can take me.” The hard, rough murmur spiked her arousal even more.
Bracing on one of his elbows, he slipped his other hand between their bodies and found her nub of pleasure. Her breath escaped in little pants as his thumb pressed, rotated, filling her with bliss, easing his way more so he slid inexorably to the hilt. The sensation of his thick length entering her was indescribable. She was stretched so tight around his shaft she whimpered. It had been so long, and even then, she had never been filled in such an exquisite manner.
He drew out and then plunged deep. Again. And again. And again. He hoisted her legs about his hips and rode her with a passion that was almost brutal in intensity. He slid his hands beneath her buttocks, lifting her to every thrust. It was too much, too intense. She trembled as agonized need coiled in her belly. His arms wrapped tighter around her, surrounding her with hardened muscles, heat, his evocative scent, and somewhat intimidating strength as he stroked into her over and over.
A sobbing moan was wrenched from her throat as the pressure became too much…and then unexpectedly, she broke apart. Her entire body convulsed, clamping tightly onto his still-thrusting manhood. Several hard thrusts later, the unrelenting pleasure started to peak once more within her. She trembled at the sharp waves of undiluted bliss. “Too much,” she sobbed, her nails raking at his sweat-coated shoulders.
“Never enough,” he murmured huskily. “Burn with me, duchess.”
Georgiana let go, giving in to the deep pulse of pleasure tearing through her body. He groaned, and with a final plunge, he released within her. They clung to each other, and Georgiana felt shattered. She’d had no notion coupling could be this passionate, so fulfilling.
“I was too rough. Did I hurt you?”
“No…it was wonderful.”
A darkly sensual smile curved his lips at her admission. He gently eased from her, and she whimpered, her sore muscles protesting.
“Shh, relax,” he murmured pressing a kiss to her forehead. Bending down, he kissed her mouth with great tenderness, then her eyelids. After the violent passion of their lovemaking, such gentleness was the last thing Georgiana expected. It brought a lump to her throat.
He placed a soothing but very possessive hand against her buttocks and then stroked his fingers up and down her stomach in a reassuring motion. “I wasn’t careful,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have spilled inside of you.”
Her cheeks warmed as his meaning became clear. “I…I cannot fall pregnant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hardcastle visited my bed often, and it took years of marriage before I became with child.” And the indignities she had to suffer to achieve an heir had not been pleasant. The one she had hated the most was pushing pillows beneath her hips and remaining in that position for hours to ensure his seed took root, as per her doctors’ order.
“How often?”
“I…the third week of every month for three years.”
Incredulity filled Rhys’s eyes. “Your husband made love to you once a month…in effect, thirty six times for the entire time you had been married.”
“Yes,” she said primly. “And perhaps a few more times after Nicolas’s birth.”
“The bloody fool.”
“I suppose you would be different?” she demanded archly.
“I would have had you rocking onto my cock at least twice every goddamned night.”
She gasped. “You libertine!”
Something elusive pooled into the gray depth of his eyes. “Perhaps you are not as safe as you believe.”
Was there a possessive undercurrent in his voice? “I am. Nicolas’s birth was difficult. The doctor warned I wouldn’t be able to become with child again, but Hardcastle desired a second child. After months of trying…he stopped coming to my bed.”
Her husband hadn’t been to her bed for over a year before he died.
“As I said, a bloody fool.”
She formed a fist and gently punched Rhys in his hardened stomach. He chuckled before taking her lips in a kiss that went on endlessly. There was a primal delight in being held so firmly in his arms. Georgiana was acutely aware of the strength in him, and she allowed her fingers to coast over the sleek, powerful muscles of his chest.
There was something in his eyes that wasn’t purely lust. A tenderness that brought a lump to her throat. “I like you so much,” she murmured.
“I like you, too, duchess,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something else she was unable to identify.
The sudden, staggering desire to never be released by Rhys left her frightened. Confused and suddenly nervous, she withdrew, tugging the sheets to her and wrapping them around her body. “I must go.”
“No.”
“Mr. Tremayne—”
He arched a cool brow. “Are we still being formal…Georgiana?”
She stared at him mutely.
“You referring to me as Mr. Tremayne will not change the fact you have just been taking your pleasure on my cock.”
She gasped. “You’re crude.”
He crawled over her, his body powerful and intimidating, yet so frightfully appealing. She slid backward on the bed, but he followed, climbing over her, careful to keep his weight on his elbows.
“What I should have said was that your sweet, tight sheath rocked onto my cock deep, hard, and rough, and you loved every second of it, duchess, even when it seemed too much.” His growl was low and rich, and arousal stabbed to the heart of her.
“Do not confuse me with one of your gentleman suitors,” he warned softly. “There will be no shame between us while we are lovers. At times, I will place you on your knees and elbows and fuck you hard, duchess, and there are times I’ll love you so slowly, so tenderly, I’ll burn us both alive from the wanting. There is nothing crude about what we do.” His fingers stroked her thighs soothingly, a stark contrast to the cruel sensuality that curved his lips.
An ache grew in her chest and tightened until it restricted her breathing. Lovers… “This…this was one night,” she whispered.
He froze, and her heart hitched as icy gleams of his silver-blue eyes pierced her. He pushed from her without speaking and strolled to the windows overlooking the lake. He was so splendidly formed and uncaring of his nakedness, her mouth dried.
She sat in the center of the bed, uncertain of why she waited.
“And if I want more than one night?” he asked softly without facing her.
Her breath hitched. Didn’t he realize how impossible it was for them to be together? To even have him now at Meadowbrook Park was courting scandal. “It is not about what you want, Rhys. I will still be directed by my own desires.”
Then he faced her, and her cheeks heated to see his manhood had once again hardened.
“One night, you say.”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Come here.”
She contemplated him for several moments then pushed from the bed, the sheet wrapped tightly around her and sauntered to him. His large hands cupped her cheek, an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes.
“Are you sore?”
She flushed as the flesh between her legs throbbed. “A bit.”
His thumb dragged softly across her tender bottom lip. “If this is to be our only time together, I’m not done with you yet. There are certain things I’ll require of you for the night.”
She arched a brow, resenting the pulse of anticipation stirring in her blood. “Such as?”
“These lips.” His thumb slipped into the recess of her mouth. “I’ll be wanting them wrapped around my cock, sucking and pleasuring me.” Rhys’s gaze was direct, sensually calculating, and confident. “I’ll want you above me, riding my tongue. I’m going to make love to you, then fuck you, then make love to you again.”
Georgiana trembled, and a blush rose in her cheeks.
“If you cannot handle that, I’ll leave now, and I’ll treasure our time tonight together until breath leaves my body.”
She wetted her lips. “And if I can manage?”
“Are you saying you can?”
“Yes.” This could be the only night she would let down her guard with this man.
His eyes darkened, and his handsome face became etched with stark need. “On your knees.”
The command burned through her, and an unbidden whimper spilled from her. Lord help her, she obeyed, sinking to her knees and releasing the sheet so it fell from her body but was anchored by her hips.
“Touch me, my duchess.”
My duchess… He didn’t need to ask twice. She wrapped her fingers around his jutting length. “You’re so hard…and so thick,” she murmured, amazed she’d been a wife but had never had the occasion to admire the male form so boldly and unashamedly.
“Suck me in, sweetheart,” his voice was dark and rough, and it spiked her hunger.
Leaning forward, she swirled her tongue around the flared mushroom head of his cock, feeling the bunch and clench of his thighs beneath her fingers. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling at the strands and sending a tingling heat through her scalp. Georgiana moaned around his taste, which was dark, heady, and sultry, like the rain. She slid her tongue delicately over the throbbing head, and his guttural groan filled her with pleasure. A deep yearning coiled inside of her to bind him with the same pleasure he had enslaved her with.
He dragged her up his body and kissed her mouth. He was too gentle…her eyes burned with unshed tears. His lips then brushed the tip of her ears. “Do you feel cravings pulsing through your body for my touch?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“One night will never be enough. Be my mistress.”
The breath strangled in her throat. His mistress?
“I know we are to never be anything else, duchess, but for now…be my lover…my friend. Have an affair with me.”
His voice was full of unfathomable promise and a sweet, sharp pain throbbed in her chest. She had never been her duke’s friend or his lover. They had benefited each other’s position in society, and they’d had amiable conversation occasionally. Their intimacy had been founded on respect, but he had never been her confidant, or her his, nor had they made each other burn with passion.
Yes, the cold, empty, frustrated heart of her cried silently. Instead of answering, she pushed him, understanding that when he moved back, it wasn’t from her strength. He allowed her to direct him until he sank onto the sofa. Then she once again lowered herself to her knees in front of him. “I want…let me please you.”
A powerful heat flared in his eyes, and she took him, allowing their world to once again catch fire, unable to answer the burning demand in his eyes.
…
Rhys had envisioned Georgiana’s delightfully full lips wrapped around him, taking him with the innocent hunger he could see blazing in her blue orbs. She licked and sucked his cock beautifully, a bewildering mix of wantonness and innocence. He thrust slowly and deeply into her mouth, loving the sounds she made—soft purrs of pleasure. As her mouth loved him, Rhys felt as if he was going mad from the hunger clawing through his body. His head fell back, and a guttural groan slipped from him as she licked from his balls to the tip of his cock. He could wait no longer to be inside her. Gripping her long tresses, he pulled her up with sensual intent.
He tugged her onto his lap so that she straddled him and split her legs wide across his thighs. Fisting his cock in one hand, he positioned himself at her entrance. Rhys palmed her delightfully rounded ass in his hand and drew her onto his length with excruciating slowness.
She braced her hands against his shoulders, slowing his penetration, and he allowed her. Rhys wanted her to feel every inch of him as he slid into her. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her down on his aching length in slow degrees of penetration until she was seated on his cock as deep as he could get.
A soft cry spilled from her, and her nails bit into the muscles of his shoulders, leaving behind an erotic sting. His cock got even harder on a pleasurable pulse. The feeling was exquisite, and the tight fit of her had him groaning. What was even better was, despite the fact that she had to be very tender from his earlier loving, her face was a study in pleasure.
Her arms wound around his neck, and she fused their lips together, whimpering into his kiss and steadily increasing thrusts. Her body seemed to have been fashioned to meld with his, to fit so damn perfectly with his as they strained toward ecstasy. She arched above him, crying out as her release swept through her, and he tumbled with her.
“No one needs to know—we will be very discreet,” Rhys suggested, hating the idea of keeping their passion a guarded secret, but he wanted her that badly. Very stupid of him, for certainly nothing would ever come of it, even if he were to be bloody knighted. She was unexpected, a beautiful distraction from his plan to secure an unmatched future for his sisters, but it was impossible for him to shut away the urgings blazing through his dreams and waking moments. “This will be between you and me, no one else.”
“Yes.”
His damn heart stopped for seconds before roaring to life. “Yes?”
Her wide, generous mouth curved. “Oh yes. I’ll have an affair with you.”
He wrapped his arms fully around her, acutely aware of her slight femininity. The incredibly unique, utterly feminine scent of her body invaded his lungs. He felt almost at a loss what to do. “How long?”
“I…I’ve never had an affair before.”
“A week, a month, a year?” Forever?
“I…just until it ends.”
And for now, that would have to be enough.
She pressed trembling fingers to his lips. “I desire you in a manner I have felt for no other man, and I doubt I will ever feel again. Though I know we cannot last, I want to take and cherish whatever time we will have. And…and I want more than just you in my body pleasuring me,” she said, a flush coloring her face. She gave him an odd, searching look. “I am inextricably drawn to you. Who are you, Rhys? I want…to know you. Perhaps we might even be friends.”
He took her lips in a searing kiss and proceeded to make love with her slowly and for a long damn time.
Rhys watched Georgiana as she slept. Her hair spilled like a curtain of obsidian silk across the sheets. She was curled on her side, lightly resting against his stomach. He was sitting up on the bed, his back braced against the headboard, one of his knees drawn up and the other stretched out in a tangle of her feet and the silken sheets.
He’d exhausted her. Hell, he’d exhausted himself, taking her several times. She had been like an innocent, and he felt like a corrupter recalling all the luscious things he’d demanded of her. She had fallen into slumber, and he had been reluctant to disturb her. It was less than an hour till dawn, and he needed to slip away. He’d promised discretion.
He ran his finger down her cheek, and she did not stir. She looked so peaceful; he was glad he had given her that. The fear that had bled from her earlier had vanished. Rhys would ensure all threats to her and her son would be removed. He didn’t want to examine why it was so important to him that she felt secure and safe from worry.
The small sounds of contentment she made in her sleep soothed him. The way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks entranced him. She was such delightful company, intelligent and savvy, yet there was a sweetness she couldn’t hide. He liked her at his side. Unusual that. He was so used to being alone in the world he’d carved for himself plotting and watching, waiting for the sins of people to make their way into his arsenal. His sisters and mother had no idea of his reputation in the underworld, only knowing he was a businessman with several profitable investments. The duchess knew the thin veneer of gentlemanlike qualities he showed to the world was just that, a facade. Yet she had given herself to him so unreservedly, with such passion. He had the unnerving desire to find out what made her happy and simply lay all her hidden desires at her feet.
Perhaps this was what obsession felt like.
Georgiana stirred languidly against his chest. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled with unconcealed pleasure. “Hello,” she murmured sleepily.
“Georgiana,” he replied.
Her eyes were drowsy, slumberous, staring up at him with an inescapable hunger.
“The dawn is breaking.”
Her gaze slashed toward the wide windows overlooking the palatial lawns of the estate. “So it is.”
This moment without passion almost felt awkward. He’d never had an attachment before and hardly knew where to start. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
She slid up in the bed, dragging the sheets with her, hiding her nakedness from him. His duchess leaned against the headboard, combing her fingers through her tangled hair, the gesture nervous and unexpected. She darted him a quick, searching glance. “Rhys, I cannot thank you for what you did for me. I—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “You already thanked me.”
“It is not enough.”
His hand framed her cheek, his thumb running over the slightly swollen curve of her lips. “It is. You do not owe me eternal gratitude.”
Her chin lifted stubbornly. “Yet you shall have it for as long as I live. Do you think I am unaware of the burden and scrutiny you saved me, my son, and my family from? The scandal of a trial, the fear of wondering when Lord James would strike again. You removed that shadow from our lives at a great cost to yourself, Rhys.”
A fist closed itself over his heart. “I’ve killed before, duchess.”
She jolted, and her eyes widened. Her hand reached up to touch his face. Warm fingertips brushed over his flesh before they touched his lips. “Why?”
With a soft grunt, he released her and once again leaned against the headboard. “It is of little consequence.”
“I would not betray your confidence, if that is your worry.”
He considered her and the need in her eyes for a greater connection between them than fiery passion. It felt far too personal, lying there amongst twisted sheets, sharing intimacies with her he’d never told a soul. Joanna’s enraged screams had alerted him, and as he’d raced down the lanes to the small house that they had lived in in Lambeth, those minutes before he’d reached her had been the darkest hour of his existence. She hadn’t been raped—he had blessedly prevented that horror from befalling his sister.
He reached over and tugged Georgiana to him. His hands slid down and cupped her bottom and then pulled her into the hollow of his hips so her back was flush to his chest. Her skin was so soft, like a rose petal. “A man assaulted my sister.”
She took a deep breath. “Will you tell me?”
“Joanna was fourteen at the time of the attack. She fought back, and he scarred her face. I rescued her before he stole more from her, and I killed him. It did not haunt me, duchess, nor was I filled with remorse that I rid the earth of such vermin.”
She touched his forearms lightly. “I, too, have a younger sister. Ellie. When she was only thirteen years…her music tutor…he did something rather frightening. She told Simon, and though duels are illegal, he challenged the man for the dishonor of touching her. Simon killed him. I assure you, it is always honorable to protect those we love. I was not about to give judgment.”
Rhys smiled, never expecting such a perspective from a lady of polite society.
She twisted and shifted so that she faced him. “Tell me about the sister you wish for me to sponsor.”
“Lydia. She is three-and-twenty, she is full of charm and life, despite her imperfections, and I would see her wed to a gentleman of honor. It will be a challenge, for Lydia is deaf. She lost her hearing several years ago from a fever. Her gentleman will need to be kind and understanding. I will break him if he ridicules or harms her.”
Compassion softened his duchess’s features. “I’m terribly sorry for her pain. I’ll look forward to bringing her to the notice of society. My friendship with her will go a long way in securing her a gentleman of esteem.”
Her kindness had an ache rising inside. “Thank you. You befriending my sister is more than I would ask. You may not like her.”
Georgiana grinned. “I am sure we’ll get along famously. There were several invitations to balls I’ve been ignoring. I will return to town to attend a few events. I’ll see that a few invitations are also secured for your sister.”
He pressed a kiss to her nose. “Thank you.”
“Some of town society can be thoughtless. Is…is she prepared to mingle with the ton?” his duchess asked delicately.
“All my sisters have ballgowns, jewelry, and assorted fripperies to rival a queen. Their dowries are thirty thousand pounds each, along with shares in certain businesses I am invested in.”
She gazed at him in frank astonishment. “Goodness, they are heiresses.”
“They’ve had the best tutors in dancing, Latin, French, and how to walk, talk, and dress like ladies. They have been prepared for years.”
Her eyes searched his face. “You were only waiting for the door to unlock…you were waiting on me.”
“I was, duchess…I was, in more ways than one.”
Her smile became glorious. “We have some time before dawn.”
“About one hour.”
She waggled her eyebrow suggestively and then laughed. He captured her giggles with a kiss, tumbling her back onto the rumpled sheets. He would delay for another hour, and then he would slip away. Georgiana seemed to agree, for she eagerly opened her thighs to cradle his weight, clasped the muscles of his shoulders and hugged her to him.
Christ. Being in her arms felt so right. If only he could somehow convince her they belonged. His heart jerked, and he stiffened.
“What is it?” she murmured against his lips.
“I am wondering if I should simply keep you forever.”
Her mouth worked once or twice, and then she spluttered in an uncharacteristic fashion. Uncertainty shifted in her eyes, but he did not allow her lips to form a denial. He claimed them in a burning kiss, only allowing passion to hold them in its incendiary arms.
The doubt could stay for another day.