Chapter Nine
James pressed hard against Emma’s softness, her quiet mewls of pleasure stoking a fire in him that he hadn’t felt in…well, a very long time. He was no monk—he took his pleasure and had had mistresses over the years. None had ever inspired such lust as that which burned in him now. And he had no idea why.
Was it because Emma was so innocent? Because she was so different from the women he normally pursued? He had no idea, but he burned to touch her, to brand her, to take her.
But there could be none of that. Fake courtships and stolen kisses were one thing. Once he breached her, there would be no going back. Of course, that didn’t mean they couldn’t find pleasure.
He leaned back and looked into her face. Her eyes were shut, her lips shiny and full, her breath short as she panted beneath him. Oh, how he wanted to make her shatter. To wake her to a world he doubted she’d ever imagined.
“I want to touch you, Emma,” he whispered.
Her eyes flew open, and the blue-green was so soft and beautiful as she stared up at him through the dark. “Touch me? Aren’t you already touching me?”
He held back a groan. God damn but that sweetness, that innocence, was like catnip to him. His need to make her come multiplied.
“Not like I want to be,” he said, his voice harsh in the quiet. “I want to touch you…here.”
As he said the words he dragged his hand down her body and pressed between her legs, gathering the fabric of her gown there. She hissed out a sound of surprise and lifted her hips against him.
“I don’t…I haven’t…I want…”
“What do you want?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her gaze snagged his, wide and wild. “I don’t know, James. I just feel…full. Like I’m going to burst.”
“I can make it better,” he assured her as he caught the edge of her skirt and pushed it up. He held her gaze as he did it, watching her. He would stop if he had to. If she wanted him to. No matter how impossible that seemed.
But she didn’t ask. She just stared at his ever-rising hand lifting her skirt inch by inch. He slipped his fingers beneath the hem when he got it to her knees and touched her bare legs.
“James!” she cried out, her hands coming to cover his through her skirt.
“I can make it better,” he repeated as he leaned in and kissed her again.
She sank back, her hands drawing him close, her tongue tangling with his. He slid his hand up over her knee, to her naked thighs, and finally he found her drawers. They were silky and soft, but he wanted something better to touch. Something sweeter.
He found the narrow slit in the fabric and parted it, pushing his hand in to where she was exquisitely hot and already wet. He could feel that wetness on her thighs.
He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at her as he smoothed his fingers across her entrance. She shivered at the touch and stared up at him with wild eyes.
“This won’t ruin you,” he promised, though in his heart that was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to spread her legs wide and slide inside of her, he wanted to claim her until she trembled beneath him, until he found his fill of her.
But that wasn’t right. Neither was what he was doing at present, but at least it wouldn’t destroy her.
He pressed her outer folds open, his fingers slipping along her slick entrance. She moaned out a soft sound of pleasure as her hips jolted up against him and forced his fingers across her once again.
“What is this?” she whispered, her cheeks flaming.
“Pleasure,” he managed to ground out past clenched teeth. “This is pleasure, Emma.”
He smoothed his fingers along her again and again, then pressed lightly on her clitoris. She dug her fingernails into the chair arms, her eyes widening as she gasped out his name.
Hearing it said in pleasure was almost enough to take him over the edge. He leaned in and kissed her again, sucking her tongue as he worked at her, drawing her to lift against him, to find the release he could feel trembling through her.
And at last she found it. He felt her body tense against him as she cried out softly. Her hips lifted, her body thrashed and she gave over her orgasm in quick, focused waves.
When she had come through the crisis, he withdrew his hand from her, sliding her skirts down properly as he reluctantly got to his feet and stepped away from her.
She stood immediately, her face pale and her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her lips parted and closed, and he could see her fighting with something to say. But before she could do it, the door to the library swung open.
They both turned toward it and watched as the Duke of Sheffield entered the room. As Baldwin saw them standing together in the middle of the library, in the middle of the night, he came to a sharp halt.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, his gaze sliding to James in question. “I didn’t realize anyone else was up at this hour.”
Emma said nothing—she just gave James a horrified look and fled the room, her cheeks flaming and her steps unsteady as she flew past Sheffield without so much as a side glance. James watched her go, wanting so much to reach out to her, to tell her it was all right, that she hadn’t done anything wrong. But he couldn’t.
He glared at Sheffield as he softly shut the door behind him. “Good timing.”
Sheffield threw up his hands. “I apologize. Though I’m not sure how I was to know you were in the library with…” He glanced over his shoulder. “With Emma Liston.”
James rubbed a hand over his face. “By the way you say her name, I assume Roseford, Simon and Graham have told you all about my plans with her.”
“Such gossip is bound to travel fast in our group, especially if we’re all under one roof. Brighthollow and I had a long talk about it with Roseford earlier today.”
“God,” James muttered, rolling his head back. “And what did the rooster society decide?”
“That you’re an idiot to come up with such a plan,” Sheffield laughed. “But you know Brighthollow and Roseford are both incredibly opposed to marriage. Probably more than even you are. So they aren’t the best judges of what is right.”
James looked at Sheffield. He’d always liked Baldwin. Of their group, he was the quietest, the one who kept his problems close to the vest. Simon and Graham were so close to James, and Baldwin was right that Roseford and Brighthollow were the least likely to give him any advice except to run screaming from Emma lest he get caught in some kind of trap.
But in this moment, he needed advice. Good advice from someone less involved and less biased. Because what had happened a few moments before with Emma was entirely out of control. It hadn’t had a damn thing to do with a plan or helping her or helping himself. He’d just wanted to touch her, and he’d done so without a thought to the consequences or the rules or anything except how he wanted to see her face when she came.
She had not disappointed. Her release had been powerful and erotic and infinitely sweet. But it muddied the waters of his plan a great deal.
“I don’t know what I want from her,” he admitted softly.
Sheffield hesitated a moment, then moved forward to motion him to sit. Once they both had, he leaned forward, draping his forearms over his knees, his face intense with concern and focused. “I thought this false courtship you’ve proposed was just a ruse to help you both. Though I certainly got a sense there was more going on between you when I entered the library.”
James shook his head. “I…she isn’t the kind of woman who normally catches my eye, and yet there is something about her that draws me in. Tonight I…I may have gone a bit too far.”
“How far?” Sheffield asked softly.
“Not so far as too ruin her, too far to be gentlemanly,” he said slowly. “I know I can tell you this and not have you say anything.”
“I won’t say a word to anyone,” Sheffield reassured him. “Though I admit I’m surprised. You have never made a move that didn’t seem calculated.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” James said. “But I’m also not certain it is wrong. Though I know my reputation can be a bit wild, I do actually think through most of my actions. Especially the ones that will affect others. Tonight, I didn’t think. And perhaps that means I should back away from Emma. For both our sakes.”
He said those words and his chest hurt with the thought. He pushed to his feet and walked away from his friend to the window, where he stared out at the darkness with unseeing eyes.
“What has changed since you first came up with this idea to help her?” Sheffield asked after a few seconds of silence had passed.
James turned back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, has Miss Liston’s position increased in any way?”
James shrugged. “The little bit of extra attention I’ve paid toward her so far has seemed to help her a bit, but no. She is still in the same position.”
“And has her family come into more money or any other thing that might give her more value in the eyes of some?” Sheffield pressed.
“No, of course not,” James said. “What are you getting at?”
“We both know that this plan of yours is more beneficial to Miss Liston than it is to you.” Sheffield folded his arms across his chest. “You may pretend not to care, but I recognize that you want to help her. And that is not the worst impulse. Many people have…” He hesitated. “Have things that happen that are not in their control. Things that damage them. And good people should help. So if you are asking me what I think you should do, I think helping the young woman is still the right thing to do.”
James stared at Sheffield. No one had spoken to him about his plan in those terms. If he abandoned Emma now, just because he was uncomfortable with the desire she inspired in him, was it being fair to her? After all, he had dragged her into this idea. She never would have asked to be in this position without his prodding.
“I know you are right,” he said at last.
Sheffield smiled, and there was some relief to his expression. As if he were truly invested in the idea of James helping Emma. James looked at his friend more closely.
“Why are you up so late?” he asked.
Sheffield shifted. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “And I thought a book might help.”
James frowned. “You’ve been of great help to me tonight. Can I be of some to you?”
Sheffield held his gaze for a moment and then he shook his head. “No, my friend, I think not. Thank you for the offer, though. I do appreciate it.” He pushed to his feet. “I’ll be off to bed now. You should do the same. It seems you have some damage to repair with Miss Liston tomorrow. I hope you will make it clear to her that I have no intention of speaking to anyone about finding you two in the library tonight.”
“I will,” James said, holding out a hand to Sheffield. They shook. “Thank you.”
Sheffield shrugged. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Good night.”
He left the room then, leaving James to stand and stare at the flames dancing in the fire. Tonight he had gone too far with Emma and he should have felt sorry for it. He didn’t. In fact, all he felt was a stronger urge to do it again. To do more.
And all he could do was try to control that part of him that wanted to take and claim her. To focus on the true matters at hand and not let Emma Liston’s unexpected charms veer him from his course.