Chapter 14

An hour after leaving the ball, her lover gripped the sheets beneath his naked body, groaning when she licked along the muscles of his stomach. The hooded gaze that peered at her was narrowed, his expression savagely carnal.

"You are so beautiful, James," Elizabeth said, tracing the contours of his form with open admiration.

His chest and shoulders were corded with sleek muscles; each defined line and curve showcasing a balance of power and elegance. James's broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist, each muscle sculpted and evident under his skin. His powerful thighs flowed into lean, strong legs. Elizabeth kissed over his hips, smiling when his muscles bunched in anticipation. His erection stood heavy, thick, and hard. His breathing, too, was shallow and irregular.

I did this …

It swept through Elizabeth then, feminine power, a sense of awe that James reacted to her caresses so powerfully.

"I want you so much, too, James. You have not touched me yet, and I am wet. So incredibly wet."

She gripped his cock and licked his length in a slow, sensuous glide. He groaned, and Elizabeth smiled. She sucked the flared mushroom head into her mouth. Her lover made another rough sound of hunger, clutching the sheets even tighter. Her hair cascaded over her face, obscuring his view, and he gripped it, wrapping it around his hand. He tightened his fingers in her hair, thrusting his hips upward, shoving his cock deep down her throat.

Elizabeth's eyes watered, and she made a light choking sound, wicked heat blooming between her legs when he groaned, "Fuck my cock with your sweet pretty mouth."

Elizabeth sucked him deep, loving the pleasure she gave him. She laved and explored his cock with her tongue and hand, learning what he liked, sucking the tip of his cock until he snarled, released the sheet, and shifted to pull her off.

She released his cock from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound, and he groaned. Peeking at him from beneath her lashes, she said in a deliberately sultry tone, "Tsk, tsk. I thought you were supposed to fuck my throat, Your Grace."

Elizabeth gasped when he grabbed her and tossed her onto her belly. "James!" she said, laughing.

"You make me mad with hunger," he growled. "Arch your hips."

He brought his hand down sharply on her buttocks, and she moaned at the fiery sting. Elizabeth jerked at the delicious friction at the landing of a second slap. She was painfully aroused and gripped by emotions she had never felt before. Her breasts ached so much that the caresses of the sheets tormented the sensitive tips of her nipples.

"I love your sensuality," James praised, his voice ruff with need. "So damn beautiful."

Then his mouth was on her heated flesh, soothing the sting with kisses.

"I missed your smell, the taste of your skin, the feel of your silky pussy on my mouth," he murmured, inhaling deeply as if wanting to trap her scent into his lungs. "I keep questioning how … how is it that my want for you grows instead of waning."

A delicious thrill went through her heart at his words. "I hope years from now you are still haunted by me."

She felt the curve of his lips against her backside, then James bit the flesh of her arse as if in punishment for making him feel so much.

He gripped her hips, and she instinctively curved and arched her hips more, desire thrumming through her body when he placed a pillow under her hips. His powerful frame covered her like a sensual blanket, covering every inch of her back and thighs. His breath teased her ear and the side of her neck.

"Tell me you want my cock to possess every inch of your sweet, little cunt," he murmured against her neck. "Slow and deep … hard and fast, however I want."

Honeyed heat washed over her senses, and a sweet ache trembled in her belly. "I want you to take my cunt," she whispered. "However you want me, I am yours."

James pressed a kiss against the base of her neck, soothing and arousing at the same time. He slid his hand up, stroking his fingers along the bare skin of her belly, and Elizabeth arched her buttocks higher against his body, inviting his touch to consume her entire body. His hand slid down over her belly to her sex and parted her folds to find her clitoris.

He rubbed repeatedly over her nub, and her awareness narrowed to that sweet, pulsing pleasure between her thighs. It was ecstasy, the most nerve-wracking pleasure she had ever felt. A desperate heat burned low in her belly, and she grew so wet it was almost mortifying. The striking pressure against her clitoris increased when he started rubbing her there with two fingers. Up and down, then a press forward. Elizabeth was slowly losing the battle to stay in control. She felt like another creature, one that was wild and wanton, had taken over her body.

He stroked his cock deep inside her sex, and Elizabeth's breath strangled, and her flesh burned as she adjusted to the thick invasion of his body into hers. She felt his hands slide over her bottom to help spread her pussy open for his invasion. The stretch was painful, but underneath it, the pleasure was sublime.

James started riding her, his thrusts deep and heavy with soft groans of pleasure rumbling in his throat, never altering his pace. The sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed lewd and erotic in the air. Elizabeth's breath puffed in sharp pants and moans as she surrendered to the untamed way he pounded his cock inside her sex. The pressure felt almost unbearable, and she teetered on a precipice of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. When Elizabeth sobbed with ecstasy, he drove back in, shoving his cock even deeper. She was almost desperate to escape the ravaging of her pussy.

"James," she wailed, her fingers tightly gripping the sheets.

His fingers strummed her clitoris, and shockingly, something lush and carnal opened inside of her, and the word that pushed from Elizabeth's mouth was, "More!"

She sobbed when he pinched her sensitive clitoris, whimpering when he began rubbing it hard. Wicked bursts of ecstasy flooded her senses, and Elizabeth shattered under the onslaught of pleasure.

"Oh, God," she gasped, trembling.

Sweat slicked their skin, and she gasped as he shifted his legs between hers, widening her a little further, and then arched her hips higher. James then plunged into her sex with even more hunger. She buried her face against the sheets as he plunged his cock inside her again and again. Pleasure quaked through her as the heat low in her belly twisted and became a tight knot of exquisite delight.

"Again," he hissed, "let me feel your pussy fluttering on my cock as you release."

Elizabeth moaned shamelessly, screaming as she attained her fourth climax for the night. She instinctively rolled her hips backward into his thrusts. James buried his face in the curve of her throat, thrust deeply once more, and with a ragged groan, released deep inside her body.

"Fucking hell," he whispered, sounding shocked.

He held her trembling body and delicately bit into the curve of her shoulder, the sting an erotic pleasure before pressing soothing kisses on the spot. Her breathing and heartbeat calmed, and Elizabeth collapsed to her belly, utterly repleted. Not a single muscle in her body felt capable of holding her up even for a moment longer.

"Is this how it always is?" she whispered.

James lowered his head to press warm lips softly against hers. Despite the soft touch, his kiss was searing and possessive.

"No," he said gruffly, "I … this … I have never felt like this with anyone."

She smiled and yawned indelicately. Elizabeth did not protest when he gently pulled from her body, walked away, and then returned with a wet washcloth and cleaned her. James came on the bed and tugged her into the curve of his arms. A tender feeling wrenched through her heart when she noted how careful he was with her.

The embers from the fire in the hearth barely sparked in the dimly lit bedroom. She snuggled into the warmth of James's embrace, unable to move. His hand stroked up her side, over her shoulder and down her arm in a caress. Her senses were filled with the warm, masculine scent of him, and sleep beckoned. She moaned, fighting against it with all her willpower.

"I was so caught up in our moment that I did not protect you," James said softly. "You could be with child."

Shocked, she stared up at him, resting her chin against his chest. Will you marry me or ask me to be your mistress if I am with child? She silently wondered.

His silver eyes were dark, intent, watching her closely. "Afraid?"

A sharp tremor of uncertainty quivered through her. Then she thought about it, and Elizabeth smiled. "No."

His brow lifted. "A rather uncommon reaction."

"I am returning to New York soon. I am an heiress. If I am with child, I would be very happy."

James stared at her as if he did not know what to make of her. "Happy?"

"Yes. I have decided against marrying. It would be a blessing to have a child to love in my lifetime."

There was a calmness in his stare—lust and something infinitely tender. "What of your reputation?"

"I'll claim widowhood. My love died in England because of his idiocy."

He smiled, the quirk of his lips was pure, heated sensuality. "I see."

"You make me feel so much." She whispered it against his chest, but the stilling of his body told her that she had been heard. Elizabeth reached up and brushed locks of hair from his forehead. Then, with the tip of her finger, she gently traced the small scar, almost indistinguishable, at the corner of his mouth. "I hope you do," she said softly. "It is almost one, James. I need to leave."

"Stay with me a bit more, please."

Elizabeth saw an emotion in his eyes that was unknown to her. A lump forming in her throat, she nodded. James wrapped his arms around her. His heat seemed to invade her body, filling her with a most pleasant sensation. Elizabeth took one of his hands and laced it between hers. It was then that she noticed the scars on his knuckles. They were puckered, and some were deep.

The rough scars and cuts were a stark contrast to the refined image he usually presented to the world. As she traced the lines with a gentle touch, she asked. "You have thirteen cuts on your hand. How did this happen?"

"They're from my days as a bare-knuckle boxer.

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. "You were a boxer?"

"Nothing so civilized. This was fighting without the rules of conduct that governed the sport of boxing."

Good heavens. "How was this possible?"

"I inherited the dukedom at twenty; I was saddled with a massive debt, one that threatened to ruin everything my family had built. It was a desperate time. My mother and sister needed me to provide, and I had to find a way out. I fought in the underground pits of London, where fortunes were made and lost with each bout. It was a brutal world, but it was the fastest way I knew to pay down the debts and protect my family's legacy."

The revelation seemed to settle over them like a heavy cloak. Elizabeth looked at him anew, scanning his face as if seeing him for the first time. The scars on his hands symbolized a life fought in shadows, far removed from the glittering balls and polished veneer of high society.

She touched the corner of his mouth. "Is this also from fighting?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you seek help? Surely, there were other ways?"

James chuckled softly, a rueful sound. "Pride, mostly. And a lack of trust. I'd seen too many turn their backs on me when the news of the debt came out. The ton can be incredibly fickle. Friends became strangers overnight. I decided to rely on myself to fight my own battles."

Her fingers gently caressed the scars again. "And now?" she asked quietly.

"Now," he said, shifting to look into her eyes, "I'm free of debt and have enough wealth to last a few generations. My cousin will build upon it."

"Your cousin and not your son?"

"I am not certain I will ever marry and have an heir, but I know of my cousin's existence."

"Why are you against marrying? Did someone break your heart?"

He laughed, the sound low and rich. "No."

"Then why?"

"Must I have a reason?"

"Is it not the natural path of life? To marry and build a family?"

"I already have a family. My mother lives, and my sister is married and has twin daughters. My cousin is also married and has seven children."

"Good heavens. Seven?"

There was a teasing, provoking glint in his eyes. "Hmm, my cousin professes to be deeply in love with his wife and cannot stay from her bed."

"So, you do believe in love."

"I see the evidence of it."

"But you do not want it for yourself?"

James chuckled, low and soft, the sound decidedly mocking. "I am not searching for it," he said mildly, "I do not long for these romantic sentiments I realize ladies take pleasure in thinking about. I simply enjoy my life and live without constraints."

"It must be wonderful to exist so freely," she murmured. "You remind me of my father."

"A rather unsettling thought, given how thoroughly I just debauched you," James replied drolly.

Elizabeth laughed. "My father was also a second son of a baronet. My uncle, Timothy, lives in Hertfordshire with his wife and children. I have never met them. He never quite forgave Papa for marrying a lady whose father was a banker from New York. Aunt Sally, however, kept in touch with Papa through letters. My aunt was never blessed to have children, and Mama said this made aunt treasure family more."

She shifted slightly, a pang of pain going through her heart. Elizabeth had held herself distant from her aunt, and she needed to forgive her meddling.

"My father took his modest inheritance from his grandmother and forged an empire in New York. Whenever I listened to Papa speak, I would always long to make my own mark in the world one day. Mama will be furious when she realizes Papa promised me that upon my return to New York, my inheritance will be mine to do as I please."

"What do you wish to do?"

"I do not know," she murmured. "Perhaps one day travel. War has torn apart Europe, and it might be years before I get a chance to visit Italy and France. I helped Mama with a few charities in New York. I might take a more active role when I return."

"Will you ever come back to London?"

Elizabeth felt the increase in his heartbeat.

"Will you miss me, James?" she murmured.

Something mysterious lurked in the chilling beauty of his eyes, and Elizabeth wished she understood what he felt. Or perhaps it would be better if I had not asked.

"I daresay I will look back on our moments and long for you fiercely, James," she said, pushing aside the need to keep the revealing words to herself. One could not gain anything behind silence and noncommunication. "I shall greatly miss you. I am not afraid to admit these things."

He lifted a hand, rubbing his thumb briefly over her bottom lip, which felt puffy from his kiss. Instead of answering her, he tugged her down, kissing her mouth with exquisite tenderness. An ache rose in her throat, and longing almost broke her apart. For a wild moment, terror scythed through her heart.

I am in danger of falling in love with you, James, she silently cried. How foolish am I?