Chapter 14

14

Joanna jumped to her feet.What had she expected?

A declaration of eternal love?

She should not have any illusions about this man. He was wounded, body and soul. He loved someone he could never have, and it wasn’t her. She was a prize to tickle his ego. He had been a seducer, a rake in his previous life, chasing skirts and ruining reputations…the devil that he was, he was good at it.

Because he’d seduced her, too.

She struggled to catch a breath, her mind racing in a million directions looking for a way out of this and failing.

Except for one thing she could say. “No.”

Very slowly, with a wince so slight it was easy to miss it, he got to his feet, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She had a frightening feeling of being a deer stalked by a lion.

“No?” he asked as he took a slow step towards her. “You should have said no to our bet in the first place. It is too late now, is it not?”

She straightened her shoulders. “What are you going to do, sir? Force yourself on me?”

His throat bobbed, his gaze darkening. “Never. You will give yourself to me willingly or not at all.”

Something softened in her core at that, a tension she’d had since the moment she knocked on the gates to the mews. “Good,” she said. “I have more respect for you now, Lord Seaton. Now, I will take my leave.”

“What is your objection, Miss Joanna? Had you felt that ‘no’ before, you would not have come.” He stepped towards her, so close she could smell him again. His scent alone was more intoxicating than that whisky. “But you came, ready and willing to honor our bet. I’m here. So are you. I still want you. And you wanted me, too, I know it like I know my own name. Your body responded to me.” He raised his hand and gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “What happened? What changed?”

What happened was their talk. She loved hearing him opening up. Learning what had made him the man that he was. What had hardened him.

But that was not what had changed her mind.

What had changed her mind was that his heart belonged to someone else. Which was silly because she shouldn’t even be thinking about his heart. About him marrying anyone.

“It’s your sister-in-law,” she said, and his eyebrows drew together. “Clearly, you loved her enough to want to propose to her. And yet, you told me you’d never marry me.”

He cocked his head. “Dear Miss Digby, I warned you from the beginning, marriage will never be part of this arrangement. If you expect otherwise—”

“I know. I don’t expect anything. However, you made me realize that deep down, all I wanted my whole life was to be foremost in someone’s affections. And forgive me, but I just can’t bring myself to give my virtue to someone who doesn’t feel that way about me. I don’t require marriage, but I do insist on a partner who sees me as more than just a substitute for their true desire.”

He chuckled softly. “My dear girl…ever since the masquerade ball, you have been the sole focus of my most ardent attention and desire.”

Her breath caught, and her mouth became dry. She wanted to believe him. But he didn’t say he had no more love for the duchess.

“This is not about love, dearest,” he said. “My heart will never be part of this arrangement, and neither will yours. What, however, will be”—he leaned so close his breath caressed her cheek—“is pleasure. As much pleasure as you can take…” He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and she inhaled a deep breath as exquisite warmth ran through her skin. “And then I’ll give you even more”—another kiss on her other cheek, and an acute tingling shot through her down to her breasts—“and even more.”

He planted a soft, chaste kiss on her lips, which made a moan escape from her throat. He chuckled in satisfaction.

“Believe me, my sweet Persephone, you will be receiving my full attention. You and your pleasure.”

She licked her lips, swaying towards him as though pushed by the wind. Her mind went hazy from his kisses, and she couldn’t think of a single reason she needed to leave now. All she wanted was more.

But your virtue, argued the small part of her that could still reason. He’ll never marry you…and nor will any other man. You’ll be truly ruined.

She didn’t think she’d ever get a proposal in any event. Marriage was not in her interest. Never was and never would be. How many husbands would ever be so concerned about her pleasure anyway?

She’d be this man’s lover. She’d taste this part of life she wouldn’t experience otherwise. She’d live and she’d be the center of his attention. For just a few sinful hours, she’d know the pleasure he was speaking of, and then she’d have something to remember for the rest of her life. Something to write about, too.

“Yes,” she said and watched a slow, beautiful grin spread on his face.

To her surprise, he went to the table with the refreshments under the silver dome and lifted it up. On the plate lay a selection of cheeses, cold cuts, a vine of grapes…

And a pomegranate.

Her breath hitched as she studied the open, ripe fruit, the dark red seeds between thin white veins glistening in the candlelight. As if charmed, she went to the table, unable to look away from the fruit.

He picked one half up and held it out for her. A droplet of dark juice on the edge smeared his thumb, and he licked it off. As she watched the tip of his tongue running over his skin, the muscles somewhere deep between her thighs clenched deliciously and burned.

“If you try the fruit of the underworld, Persephone,” he said, “There will be no coming back. And you will forever stay here…forever be mine. Last chance, darling. Are you certain?”

The underworld must be the forbidden world of pleasure, and he was its master.

There was no return, she already knew. The sharp and pungent scent of pomegranate was in her nostrils, and she wanted to taste its juice. With her lungs struggling for air, she reached out and took the fruit from his hand.

She pushed on both sides of the piece, letting it split in the middle, red juices sprinkling right onto her face and neck. Spencer’s eyes darkened as his gaze focused on the droplet near the corner of her lips. As gently as she could, she tore off one seed and put the fruit on the table.

Silly, perhaps, but with her gaze locked with his, she felt like she was his queen now, the queen of this dark lord who would own her body and soul the moment the pomegranate seed lay on her tongue. Slowly, she put it between her lips, then crushed it between her teeth, the sweet and sour juice spraying through her mouth.

And it was delicious.

He gave out a tortured groan, and the moment she swallowed, he was on her.

His kiss was a storm, caressing, devouring her like she was the meal he’d been starving for. His arms wrapped around her like a vise, his chest as hard as a rock. Another low growl came from his middle, rumbling against her chest.

“You taste like pomegranates,” he murmured. “And like you. I’ve been thinking about the taste of your lips every night.”

“Have you, Lord Seaton?” she murmured against his lips.

“Call me Spencer, darling. I want to hear my name on your lips when you scream in pleasure.”

A hot shudder ran through her at his words. As his hand slid down her chest and cupped her breast, she shuddered again. With hot kisses he made his way down her throat and over her chest to her neckline, her skin burning.

“I’ll be your first, Joanna.” Her name on his lips sounded so intimate. Only her family and close friends called her that. “I want all of you to be mine.”

He turned her around, and his swift fingers began unbuttoning her dress at the back. When he dragged it down her arms and her body, it pooled around her feet on the floor. Her skin prickled with awareness of his gaze on her. He was the first man to see her naked… She was not one of the thin and pretty ladies like Charlotte who were considered more beautiful. She had rolls and curves and wide hips.

“Look at you…” he murmured as he pressed into her back with his torso, leaning down to kiss her neck. His hands cupped her breasts through her corset and her chemise. “Every curve…perfection.”

Her throat went dry…could she believe him? Her body surely did, her skin tingling, her breasts swelling and aching and needy from his touch. More, more, more, she felt with every breath.

He undid her corset, and she tried not to think about how swiftly and expertly he’d done it. He tugged it down, and, as always, it stuck on her hips, and he had to pull to free her from it. Her petticoats were next. He was kneeling behind her when she stepped out of her corset and the circle of her dress on the floor.

She felt his hot hands glide up her legs under her chemise, leaving hot traces up her skin. “Look at your gorgeous behind,” he murmured as he bit her slightly through the thin layer of chemise, and she gasped and jerked, but he didn’t let her move, his large hands holding her thighs in place. “Look at your gorgeous body…such a thin waist…such luscious breasts…and such a luxurious behind.” She didn’t know which was making her skin cover with sweat more, his words or his hands or his mouth biting her arse… She’d never imagined one would bite an arse at all—or that she’d enjoy it!

He rose to his feet, the edges of her chemise in his hands, and dragged it up and over her head…

Like a predator, he slowly walked around her, his eyes not missing an inch of her body.

And she was naked before him… Completely. With nowhere to hide. Not behind a mask, an ugly dress, or even a man’s clothes.

For the first time in her life, she was in the spotlight.

Shaking, she looked into his face, searching for any signs of revulsion, or rejection, or regret.

But there was nothing but hunger. His gaze was so dark it was bottomless, glistening, his thumb on his full, lower lip. His chest was moving slowly and deeply, there was a flush of color on his cheekbones, and something very large and very hard was bulging between his legs from under his pantaloons.

“You are the goddess of spring, my Persephone,” he murmured as he came to her and removed the pins from her hair, letting it spill over her shoulders, tickling her. “Just look at you…all lush and ripe and so full of life… Do not hide anymore, darling. You have nothing to hide from. You should be the one in the foreground. You were born to shine.”

She was warm now, from his words, from his gaze, from her nervous anticipation of what was about to happen.

He came to her, and she thought he’d lead her to the bed or kiss her, but he dropped to his knees in front of her.

“You were born for pleasure,” he murmured, his face right in front of her sex.

She gasped as he began planting sweet, gentle kisses on her thighs around the apex between them. Every little touch, every little lick of his mouth on her skin was like fire. Her head spun from all the hot and wet and glorious sensations in her body.

“Spencer…” she whispered, clutching at his massive shoulders. “What are you—”

“Enough hiding, Joanna,” he murmured and put his fingers on the lips of her sex, spreading them. “Tonight, you’re the queen of my darkness. Tonight it’s all about you.”

Then before she could move or utter a word of protest, his mouth was on her flesh, and he was kissing her right there… She cried out in surprise and pleasure as sensations she’d never felt before rained over her, his tongue lashing against her inner lips like the storm against the window. His wicked tongue played and circled and danced its wild and wonderful rhythm.

With one arm, Spencer lifted her thigh and laid it on top of his shoulder, bringing her sex even closer to his mouth, his face now buried between her thighs. His arms dug into her hips, holding her safely, as her legs trembled and she struggled to keep herself standing.

But she was standing. And he was on his knees in front of her.

Worshipping her.

And the more he lashed at her, the tighter something in her grew, the more something built and rose higher and higher. She couldn’t do anything but take his sweet assault, surrender to the otherworldly sensations he was giving her. She was going to disappear, burst into a dust of pure starlight…and be gone.

And in a few moments, that was exactly what she did.

She thrashed in his arms, holding on to him as if he were the last connection to earth… Until her legs gave out completely and she collapsed into his arms.

And he caught her.

The last thought she had before he picked her up and carried her somewhere was that he really wasn’t such a scoundrel as he wished to appear. He didn’t take her virginity like he wanted to.

He didn’t take anything at all.

He gave. He made her a goddess.