Chapter Eleven

T heodosia's mind turned hazy as her lips pressed against Saville's. Her mind could scarcely keep up with her actions. That she was actually kissing the Earl of Saville. A man she never thought she would ever kiss in her whole life.

But it felt wonderful.

Clearly her mother had brought all the wrong sorts of men to each and every blind matchup she'd arranged. Or perhaps if her mama had arranged them in a more intimate setting such as this, rather than a drawing room where the space loomed larger than the presence of the people within, it all might have been more enjoyable.

"How did this kiss taste to you?" she asked, her face still very close to his.

"Not bitter." His gaze swept over her as he pulled away.

Oh? "I taste like gin."

"It tasted like the sweetest cake on the dessert table." His eyes were hot like two fire pokers. "Did it satisfy your curiosity?"

"It did." But not nearly enough. She wanted to satisfy her curiosity more. She wanted to satisfy it fully .

As her first kiss, Theodosia had no other kisses to compare his kiss with, true, but she just knew in her heart, in this moment, no other man would be able to compare. No other man had tempted her to be free before. How many would be likely to do so in the future?

What on earth is wrong with me?

His mocking smile captured her, each look cast her way charmed her, and his touches—a mere lift onto a horse, riding caged in his arms, carrying her to the Bells' doorstep—had excited her even though she had refused to dwell on them at the time. Could not this be just the effects of the drink?

Must be.

Can't be.

She hadn't been tipsy all those other times she felt awareness flood her body. No, she'd been all too sober then.

However, another effect came into play as her mind bounced back between all the must be parts and can't be portions—she didn't care about the why of them, why they might or mightn't matter, what lay beneath them, or what even lay behind them.

Tonight was all about embracing freedom.

She pushed her chair away and stepped around the table, up to him. "Tell me, how many ladies have you kissed in your life?"

The gin he'd just sipped sputtered from his mouth, and he brushed off his legs. "That's not a question you ask a man."

She put a hand on his shoulder when he moved to rise, keeping him in his chair. "Because there are too many? What about this—if you share your number I shall share mine."

"What the devil?" He crossed his arms. "Just how many men have you kissed?"

Her lips lifted along with her brows. "You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

He cursed. "Would you believe me if I said five?"

"Do you believe yourself when you say five?"

"Damn it, it's not like I keep count of how many women I've kissed."

"Then there are more than five. Did you just pull that number from your arse?"

"Where the hell did you learn such a saying?"

She held up six fingers. "Brothers."

"Of course," he said sourly.

She leaned closer. "Just own up to the fact that you're a rogue who has kissed many women."

"Fine, this is me owning it. Now out with it. What's your number?"

Theodosia sent him a toothy grin. "A lady never reveals her cards."

"Didn't we have a deal?"

"I can hardly recall such a deal. Did we shake on it? Sign an agreement? And did you give me a true number?"

"Vexing minx."

"Shall I tell you a secret, then?" she asked conspiratorially.

He shot her a moody glance. "If you mean to appease me with some ridiculous nonsense, don't."

She rested against the table, staring at him. "I've even been thinking about marrying below my station. It's mostly a passing thought, but after meeting Mr. and Mrs. Bell, I might give it more consideration."

His mouth opened, then closed. "You want to do what ? Why the devil do you want to marry below your station? Your brothers will never allow it."

She waved a hand over the kitchen, passing over his outburst. "Say, a farmer. I'd be a farmer's wife."

"Are you being serious?" he grumbled. "Or is this the gin taking the lead in the conversation?"

"I'm always serious when it comes to my life. I know what I want." For the most part.

"And you want to marry a farmer."

"I want to be valued." She leaned back to grip the table with both hands. "To the men of the ton ...I am an object to be used. I am simply there to make an advantageous marriage. produce an heir, be obedient. I'd rather take charge of my own life."

"You don't need to marry beneath your station to become valued," he pointed out. He suddenly arched a brow. "Do you think you will be valued more as a farmer's wife than a gentleman's wife? Does a man not remain a man?"

"I want to argue with you," Theodosia said slowly, rather amused at her own answer. "But my tongue won't form the words. You've rendered me speechless."

"I never knew I was that powerful."

"You're not." But he was powerful enough. Enough that she found it rather refreshing to turn scathing retorts into teasing remarks.

He scoffed, but a smile formed immediately after. "Do you ever lose your sass?"

She crossed her arms. "Would I even be the woman you love to hate if I did?"

He barked out laughter, and Theodosia blinked at the rare sound. If his smile had been blinding, this outright laughter was almost hypnotic. His face softened when the corner of his eyes crinkled in amusement. She never knew he could have such an expression.

"I was wrong," she murmured. Why was her heart suddenly beating so fast? Lord, any moment it would burst from her chest.

"About?"

"My curiosity has not begun to be satisfied." Theodosia made a bold decision. "I want another kiss."

Dark eyes blazed into hers. "I am curious, too."

"About?"

"How it would feel if Lady Theodosia kissed me after so boldly declaring her desire."

Theodosia leaned closer to Saville, pulled by a force she couldn't explain. Blame the drink, the tipsy dizziness that claimed her body—Lord, blame the stars—but she could not help herself. She placed her lips softly on his.

Lightly but boldly, she traced her tongue over his lower lip. Suddenly unsure, she started to pull back, only for him to seize control with both hands on her cheeks, sweeping her into a ravaging kiss. His lips were warm, much softer than she expected. His tongue glided along the seam of her lips, demanding entry. She gave it, and he didn't disappoint. The kiss turned into an unrestrained devouring, and all her senses faded until there was nothing left but him .

He pulled away just as quickly as he had taken charge, eyes burning into hers once again. "Theodosia," he breathed. "Christ. What are we doing?"

"Living in the moment."

"That's dangerous. I'm just a man."

She nodded, her face still clasped between his palms. "I know. You've said as much. But let me ask you this, is this more dangerous than being chased by highwaymen?"

"Can you even bloody compare the two?"

Theodosia laughed "Come now, I haven't felt this free in a while. Don't spoil the mood."

"Then don't regret this." The lowered timbre of his voice sent a new wave of shivers down her spine.

I won't.

Proverbial chains had never felt this good snapping. His lips found hers and this time he didn't pull back. The man might have poison on his tongue at times, but his lips were magic.

He rose, pressing himself even closer into her body, as close as he could manage. Theodosia wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing his warmth. He lifted her up into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around him as he set her on the kitchen table.

Was she really doing this?

Yes, I am doing this.

"A life as a farmer's wife would never suit you," he breathed against her mouth.

"Why not?"

"You are much too vibrant to be bound to the country. You're far too brilliant to be tucked away in a solitary, pastoral life."

He claimed her lips again, his tongue dancing and teasing hers. It was as though their mouths had fused together and could hardly be parted. She held onto him for dear life, finding comfort in the solid surface of the table beneath her while the blood pumping through her veins took on an unsteady rhythm.

When he pulled away again, Theodosia took a moment to slow her breathing before she asked, "Is kissing always this wild?"

"No," he said. "Only with you." His gaze drifted over her face. "We are both foxed. I think."

"You think?" A bubble of laughter spilled forth. "I think we might be, too. Does that matter?"

"It means we are both primed to do something we might regret later."

"What is life without a little regret? Lord knows, we have enough regrets already, what will one or two more matter?"

"Damn it, you are not helping." His eyes narrowed. "And that's a problem."

"Well, it sounds like a problem for tomorrow." She tightened her legs around his waist. This was madness, utter madness, but for once in her life, gin or not, Theodosia didn't want to hold back. She wanted to take what she wanted. "For the most vexing man in England, your kisses are sure good."

His lips were on hers again. Demanding. Searching. Claiming. He molded their bodies together once more, and Theodosia felt his arousal press into her.

Theodosia jolted.

A glass crashed to the ground.

Their eyes met. Without a word, he picked her up and carried her all the way to their room while trailing kissing down her cheek, her jaw, the arch of her neck.

"That is not my mouth," Theodosia breathed.

"Your mouth isn't the only place I can kiss."

Her breath caught. And the moment they entered the chamber, their lips met once more. This time, she didn't know who kissed who first. Maybe she kissed him first, maybe his lips claimed hers first. But they were greedily devouring each other now like they each were each other's last meal.

A rush of excitement washed over her.

She tightened her arms around his neck as he pressed her against the door. The kiss went on until they both ran out of air. Her feet suddenly touched the floor, and the cage of his arms lifted away from her, as though giving her one last out.

Theodosia didn't want it.

She wanted another taste. The wanted all the tastes.

"You're not escaping," he said in a low, raspy voice.

"I'm not escaping," she agreed.

"What are we doing here, Theodosia?"

She ducked away from the door and sauntered to the center of the room and turned to him. "Having fun? Being free? Daring to take what we want even if it's only for this moment."

She sat down on the bed, smiling at him. He started to stride over but she stopped him with a lift of her hand and gestured to the chair.

"Sit."

He stared at her for a whole ten seconds before he slowly lowered himself onto the chair.

"Now, where were we?" Theodosia had no clue what she was doing, but she allowed instinct and her mood to lead her. It was as though they had entered a world of their own, and she decided she wanted to make a few of the rules here. Could she make the man before her lose himself? The idea was wildly alluring.

She undid the buttons of her shirt one by one.

"What are you doing?" A low growl.

"Teasing you." The shirt dropped to the floor, leaving her only in her corset and Turkish trousers. "Is it not working?" She laughed when his eyes clouded over. "Are you not in the mood to tease?"

His gaze held hers, as though a battle had ensued as they challenged each other with this one look. A challenge he lost when he shut his eyes and cursed. "Damn it, of course it's working."

She laughed.

This tiny bit of power. It felt marvelous.

She lifted her chin and slowly dragged her fingertips over the arch of her neck, the swell of her breasts, and stopped below the material of the corset.

The veins in his forearms bulged, and Theodosia came alive beneath the restraint in his gaze.

This is so bold, Theo.

And perhaps he was right. Perhaps they would regret abandoning all the rules tomorrow. But she didn't want to live her life on what ifs and what nots.

Regret? She'd regret it if she stopped now.

She reached behind her back, expertly yanking on a ribbon, loosening her stays, observing the bob of his Adam's apple as she pulled the corset away from her body and dropped it to the ground, exposing her breasts to his view.

So, so bold!

A deep, gruff curse.

She cupped her breasts in her hands. "Do you like what you see?"

"God yes."

Belatedly, Theodosia wondered where all the embarrassment that ought to be there had fled to, but then, she supposed this was the magic of gin—the freedom it promised. Even if this freedom lasted only this night.

Theodosia arched a playful brow. Except for the bulging veins in his forearms and now his temple, the man hadn't moved an inch.

Given the man's usual character, his restraint in the face of her teasing was quite impressive. Too impressive. She wanted to test that. She wanted him to feel what she was feeling in this very moment. Alive. Amorous. Almost roguish. Ready to seize this rare moment of freedom they'd decided together to claim.

One last garment to go.

Theodosia traced a finger over the hem of her trousers, noting with satisfaction as his lips parted.

Yes.

She lifted off the bed slightly to shimmy out of the trousers in what she hoped was an alluring manner, but given her slight unsteadiness, she thought she might be a bit off the mark. No matter. The end goal was to fully grasp the moment.

And it worked.

Theodosia's lips twitched as crossed her legs and leaned back on her arms, watching him.

What now, Field Savage?

*

Field swallowed.

The minx half sat, half lay on the bed without a stitch of clothing, without so much a lick of shame. Staring at him. Tempting him. Taunting him.

It takes two to play this sort of game, sweetheart.

Saville didn't bother with sensibilities; he gripped his shirt and yanked it over his head. Her eyes widened before narrowing to slits, but no daggers appeared in their depths. Instead, he found, for the first time since they met, a new look in her eyes.

Field wanted to grab hold of that look and never let go. No... that didn't sound right. He never wanted to forget that look.

Much sweeter than all her other dagger-like looks . How many other looks did she possess? Were they as... beautiful?

Had she always been this alluring? Was she even real, or was this a dream? He didn't know which would be more disturbing. Theodosia the temptress or Theodosia nothing but a dream. He was afraid the sight of her would disappear. He blinked a few times. It didn't.

Her grin widened.

Field almost swayed at that smile. He gripped hold of the chair to steady himself. She smirked. "One yank of your shirt and you're stumbling."

"I didn't stumble." I was struck by a revelation.

He knew it, because he could feel the knowledge battling through his veins, trying to burrow into the very core of him. But he couldn't describe it, couldn't put a name to it, this fire raging in his blood.

But he knew he wanted this woman.

He had wanted her for whatever mad reason since the moment they were stuck close together on that horse. No. Even before that. In truth, he couldn't really say when it had started; he just knew it had at some point.

His eyes had formed the habit of forever hunting for her. If she were not in his sight, he would set out to chase her down. And the moment he'd started this chase, he couldn't stop it.

Just like he couldn't stop himself from removing his boots and tossing them to the side. His trousers went next, male satisfaction rushing to one particular section of his body as her cheeks flushed bright red.

He flung his trousers with his foot toward the minx as he took his member in his hand. She swatted them away, her eyes turning to saucers as she watched him.

This time Field smirked.

She didn't disappoint. In fact, she exceeded any and all his expectations when the startlement in her eyes softened to intrigue.

"I must admit, this is a sight not even six brothers prepared me for."

Field sneered. "I would bloody hope not. And don't mention those heathens at a time like this."

She laughed.

"So what do you want to do now that we are both naked?" Field asked.

She cocked her head. "You mentioned something about kissing."

Field dragged his gaze over her pale body. Christ almighty. He wanted to taste every inch of her. He squeezed his cock, not sure how long he'd be able to hold back. "Yes," he said, his voice coming out hoarse. "I can kiss the entire length of your body."

"The entire length? Is that a promise?"

Christ. "Yes."

She chuckled. "Only if I can kiss your body first."

Field's jaw went slack. Kiss him first? Could he survive that? No, no, he couldn't. Could he? Her lips on him, trailing kissing everywhere? No, that would be the purest of tortures.

She patted the bed. "Come lie down, if you dare."

Field could no more resist the challenge that sparked in her gaze than he could the temptation she presented. He strode over, lowering onto the bed as she instructed, not letting his gaze slide away from hers even for a second.

This is madness. Madness you'd better not regret in the morning.

But even though that brief thought flashed through his mind, Field didn't stop. Regret? What regret? He could never regret this moment, this night. Regret was so far out of reach that even the word sounded strange to him now.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned over to lay small kisses over his chest.

"Hard. Muscled," she noted.

Yes, very hard.

"Also warm."

So damn hot.

She kissed him all over his body. The muscles of his chest, his belly, shoulders, and even the cords of his neck while her fingers left trails of gooseflesh along his upper leg. Her attention moved downward to his torso, and her mouth veered very, very close to his manhood. Field's entire body stiffened.

He would never be able to handle that. Not tonight.

Field couldn't take it anymore. In one smooth motion, he flipped her over. "My turn."

"What? But I wasn't done."

"Christ, woman, any more of that and another kind of liberation will happen and I want to taste you fully before it does."

"You're that desperate?" she teased.

Field couldn't deny it. "That bloody desperate, yes." His lips went straight for her breasts, those pale globes with their rosy tips he'd been itching to claim since she'd removed her corset.

So good.

His hand inched to her center and all the beauty to be discovered there. By no means could he claim to be inexperienced, but at this moment, as he searched for the spot and pushed one finger in, he was startled to find his whole body was trembling.

She gasped, arching into him, her arms circling around his back.

"Field."

"I'll say this only once more, Theodosia. There is no going back after this."

"If I didn't know that, I would never have teased you." She wiggled the lower half of her body. "Put it in me already."

"Christ, your tongue knows just how to set the mood. Where did you learn to speak such words? No, wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

He inserted another finger.

"That is not enough," she breathed.

Was there another woman on earth capable of driving a man crazier than this one? It was as though he had stepped into an otherworldly realm.

"We need to prepare you. I'm bigger than two fingers."

"You don't say," she teased, grinning up at him, a sparkle of mischief laced with desire in her eyes.

"Why does it feel as though you are questioning my manhood right now?

"Is your manhood compromised of two fingers? Then yes, I'll question this manhood."

Field nipped at her neck with his teeth. "I can't believe we are discussing such things. The size of my manhood is not in question."

She laughed. "Because size matters , isn't that right? Do you know, when my brothers were boys they once jumped into a lake naked—"

"Stow that tongue, woman! Do not dare compare me to your brothers!" His eyes burned with fire when they locked with hers. "They have no place here tonight."

"How right you are. Besides, I quite like the size of your manhood."

Field nearly choked on air. So, his cock was impressive to her. Good.

" Field ." Lord, the way she said his name made him even more hard, if that were at all possible. "I am prepared. Don't keep me waiting."

"Damn minx."

"Always."

He gripped her chin and dragged his mouth over hers "I can't wait anymore either."

"Then don't."

Field allowed instinct to take over his mind and body, and he unleashed all his desire into that moment with her. His tongue swept into her mouth the same time he entered her, and everything he knew about himself turned inside out. He hadn't known just how much he wanted her until that night, until that moment. Until he saw a side of her he never believed he'd be permitted to glimpse.

God, it feels good.

"Theodosia, are you all right? Is this good?"

"Yes," she murmured, then added provokingly, "Is this it? Or is there more?"

Teasing wench. There was so much more, even the entire night would not be nearly enough to explore everything he wanted.

"Give me more, Field."

All his restraint snapped, and along with it everything that made him a gentleman. Don't fool yourself, Field. Your control withered to nothing a long time ago.

Her moan escaped onto his lips.

He claimed it, just like he claimed her body with every thrust. Sparks of pleasure trickled over his skin as her nails dragged over his back.

This woman.

Theodosia King.

She always gave as good as she got. In life. In battle. Even in bed.

"Field," she cried, and his name on her lips sent him over the edge of a cliff he could never climb back up from. His thrusts deepened, pounding as he swept his tongue between her lips.

That cry belongs to me, too.

She belonged to him.