Chapter 16

For the next two weeks, James enjoyed Elizabeth's delightful company, and each moment with his lover mocked his resolve to remain indifferent and simply enjoy a pleasurable affair. As he awoke each morning, thoughts of Elizabeth filled his mind, and she remained his final contemplation before drifting off to sleep each night.

There were a few nights when his lover was obliged to attend social events with her mother and aunt, whom she declared held the undying hope she would accept one of the many gentlemen now showering her with attention. Elizabeth remained steadfast that their advances were unwelcome; she, however, accepted a few dances and the flowers delivered to her aunt's home. James watched it with a mild sort of amusement at the gentlemen tripping over their feet to woo her. He felt a fierce pride in her will and determination to live life and not merely endure it on the whims of others.

On Monday, he took her once again to see fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens. James paid handsomely for the display to last much longer. It had been spectacular, lighting up the night sky with bursts of color that reflected brilliantly in Elizabeth's wide, delighted eyes. In a moment of unbridled joy, she'd turned to James and kissed him on his lips. The bold move caught the attention of nearby onlookers, causing a stir among the crowd. Some whispered and pointed, amused or scandalized as they were both dressed as gentlemen. Elizabeth merely winked and kissed him again, this time lingering over the caress.

Tuesday, James appeared at another ball, shocking many into whispering. He'd danced with three other ladies before bowing over Elizabeth's hand and sweeping her into the sensual waltz. He noted how disapproving his mother seemed while his lover's mother appeared delighted.

Wednesday, James surprised Elizabeth with a private balloon ride. He recalled the awe and longing on her face when she saw a balloon soaring in the air for the very first time. His lover had been astonished when she realized that he arranged for them to go up. She had screamed her joy once they soared in the sky, lifting her hands upward as if reaching for the stars. Elizabeth was fearless, adventurous, and, once again, uncaring of the workers who steered the hot air balloon, for she had walked right into his arms, resting her weight against his chest and watched the night sky with him.

Thursday, he had woken with an eagerness inside that his mother, who called upon him, commented that he seemed different … happier. That night, he accompanied his mother to a smaller soiree, and not surprisingly, Elizabeth was in attendance. James's heart had pounded from the smile she bestowed when she saw him. James found himself increasingly enchanted by Elizabeth's vivacity and her fearless embrace of every new experience.

Their meeting on Friday was happenstance. James visited the Royal Observatory and encountered Elizabeth, who was in the presence of her brother. The night they flew in the skies in the hot air balloon, she had expressed a fascination with the stars. The way her face lit up as she peered through the massive telescope, the sound of her laughter as she teased her brother, was a sight that James knew he would remember forever. She asked questions, her curiosity boundless, and her enthusiasm infectious. James found himself drawn into the mysteries of the universe right alongside her. The minx deliberately brushed her hands against his several times, and their ease of camaraderie had clearly left Brandon feeling uncomfortable.

James waited a few days and then invited her to a literary salon. She daringly attended dressed in her gentlemen's attire, amused when some stared longer than proper, trying to ascertain just who this creature with the duke was. It was an evening filled with poetry readings and philosophical debates, and Elizabeth did not suppress wit and sharp intellect, laughing and chatting for the night.

Each day brought a new adventure, a new memory, and with each passing moment, James's resolve to keep their relationship light and unattached cracked, as something inexplicable slammed at it over and over.

"Are you aware that you have been staring into your drink for the last few minutes?" Oliver drawled, walking to stand beside James. "What mystery lies in this glass of whisky?"

James tipped the glass to his mouth and emptied it. "I am thinking."

"I know it," the marquess drawled. "I have never seen you like this, my friend, and I am wondering if we should be worried."

James lifted a brow. "Worried about what?"

"Tonight is the first we have seen you at Aphrodite in almost three weeks."

"This is not cause for any sort of concern. You and Radbourne are acting like wives and—" His words broke off sharply at the sight of the lady who strolled into the main ballroom of the pleasure palace.

Oliver followed his line of sight and whistled. "Is she one of Madam Rebecca's new courtesans?"

James froze. Elizabeth. He would know the curve of her lips, the jut of her chin, her sensual walk, and that smile anywhere. Her figure was elegantly clad in a red ball gown featuring a daringly low neckline that clung to her body before cascading down to her ankles in shimmering waves. The gown emphasized her slender waist and full curves beautifully. She wore a dark gold domino mask adorned with black feathers, which concealed the upper part of her face, adding a touch of mystery. Her dark hair tumbled in glorious waves down to her lower back.

Several men stared at her, the covetousness in their stare. She seemed oblivious to this, looking about, her eyes wide behind that mask. Elizabeth strolled toward an area that held several chaise longues. She pressed a hand over her heart, her lips parted in shock and perhaps a bit of wonder. Tonight, the interior of Aphrodite was dimly lit and bedecked with oriental drapes and lush carpeting. Ladies wore jewel-studded masks on their faces and their gowns had plunging necklines with sheer materials that revealed much of their legs and bodies. Elizabeth spun in a circle, seemingly trying to take in everything at once. Couples danced the waltz far too intimately, some salaciously embracing and kissing against the wall, and another lady in a black-and-blue mask reposed on a chaise, with a man clearly riding between her thighs.

"You know her," Oliver said. "Now, this is interesting. Is it—"

"Do not say it," James warned, ignoring his smirking friend. He strolled past the marquess, going down the winding staircase, never taking his eyes off his lover lest she vanished in the crowd.

Why are you here, Elizabeth?James silently asked, his damn heart pounding as he approached her.

As if his lover felt him, she glanced over her shoulder, and even in the dimness, he saw the spark of delight in her blue eyes. That lush mouth curved in a daring smile, and she walked away, at times stopping before couples to watch their congress.

She stopped before Viscount Hardwick and his lover for the night. Hardwick glanced up at her, a carnal smirk touching his mouth before attending to his lover, fucking deep into her throat. Several people had gathered around them watching, and James went up behind Elizabeth. She leaned against him, her chest lifting with her ragged and very aroused breathing.

"I recognize her," Elizabeth whispered. "That … she is his viscountess. Why …"

"Why are they here and not at their home?"

She nodded, shifting a bit closer to observe their play.

"Some like to watch; some like to be watched."

"Oh," she said, letting out a sigh echoing with such longing his gut tightened.

"Why are you here?" James growled against her ear, slipping a hand around her waist to hold her to him.

"I was at my brother's home yesterday … and I overheard a conversation where a few wondered when you would visit here again."

James stilled. "So you decided to come here?"

His lover turned in the cage of his arm, lifted a leg to hook it at his waist, slipped her hands over his shoulders and damn well climbed his body to wrap her legs around his hips. She shocked James by slipping a gloved finger under his chin and jerking it up.

"My brother wondered if you would be fucking one or two of the new ladies," she drawled, something hot and provoking in her eyes. "Your cock belongs to only me while we are lovers."

James's cock got so hard and so quickly his head felt light. He'd never had a lover act so blatantly possessive of him or one who met his stare with such carnal confidence.

She leaned forward ever so slightly and nipped the corner of his mouth.

"Is that why you are here, my duke?"

"No."

"Hmm," she hummed softly, brushing her mouth against his. "It was a most enlightening conversation. It seems you like to share your lovers."

"I am not sharing you," leaped from him like a snarl.

Pleasure gleamed in her eyes. "I am also deeply averse to sharing you."

She kissed him, and their tongues dueled in a sensual glide for several breathless moments. He walk-stumbled with her over to a wide armchair. James was vaguely aware of several people drawing closer, watching them as they passionately kissed. Elizabeth pulled her mouth from his, and her breathing fractured. She glanced over her shoulders, her gaze skipping over the more than twenty people who stood by watching them. Her smile surprised him, and a dark wash of lust rushed through his body.

"Are these the people I need to stake my claim before?" she drawled, shifting back to face him.

Deep inside her gaze, he saw desire and another emotion he could not identify. James realized then that the conversation she overheard had also wounded something inside of her. He stilled, awareness thrumming in his veins. If he had overheard anyone talking about Elizabeth taking any other lover, he would have likely lost his damn mind. He tenderly brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead. She smelled so sweet, so warm and alive.

"Hands off," she whispered, holding his gaze, her emotions naked. Only he was not able to understand them.

James complied, gripping the edges of the armchair, staring at his lover, his damn heart tumbling over inside his chest. Using her teeth, she tugged off her gloves and dropped them to the carpeted floor. Nimble fingers untied his cravat, and his senses were so heightened that James heard the whisper of silk as she tugged the cloth from around his throat. His gut was tied in knots and his heart pounded with anticipation. Her eyes gleaming, she balled up his cravat and pushed it into his mouth.

Elizabeth leaned close, placing her mouth against his ear. "You have not touched me, yet my pussy aches with want. I am already so wet, James."

He bit down on the cloth, a soft groan rumbling from his throat. She reached between their bodies, opening his flap and freeing his cock. James bit tighter on the cloth once her delicate hands tried to clasp his girth.

"I have been wondering about you fucking and owning my arse as you'd said." She nipped his ear sharply. "Is that what a lover here can give you that I am not giving?"

He shook his head, wanting to tug the cloth from his mouth and tell her that she was everything he could ever want in a lover. She leaned back and held his gaze. Elizabeth lifted her weight and positioned herself on the tip of his cock. It was fucking laughable how his heart pounded. Many had shifted closer, but it was his gaze she held. The picture she presented was one of erotic delight, for she forced those who watched to use their lurid imagination. Though her pussy was poised over his throbbing length, and he could feel the wet heat brushing against his cock head, no one could see.

The gown had barely ridden to her knees, revealing silken stockings tied with lace garters and delicate dancing slippers. She rubbed his cock head over her cunt, and he gripped the armchair so hard his knuckles ached.

"All of me belongs to you, James, and all of you belongs to me," she whispered, her eyes soft and luminous. "As long as we are lovers … this pussy is yours, my arse, the sweet, hot throat you praised … my fidelity and friendship are yours."

He almost spent his load right then. Her soft promise sent a flood of warmth through his chest. James could not look away from the sweet sensuality of her face as she started to sink her pussy down on his cock. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes widening. He'd always ensured her pussy was soaked before he took her, but he could do nothing but bite down on the cravat stuffed in his mouth and clutched the armchair, knowing he must not release it until his lover wanted him to.

"I feel as if your cock is splitting my pussy open, James."

Fucking hell. He groaned, the sound rough, garbled, and desperate. His balls tightened as she rocked onto his cock, bearing down even though he could see the hint of pain in her beautiful eyes.

"Last night, I dreamed of you licking my slit and tonguing me until I climaxed. I think of you often, James, even on the nights when you ride me to exhaustion. I still stumble into bed and dream of you."

Another muffled sound escaped him. Never in his life had he experienced such hunger … such want. With a sense of shock, James realized he had never moaned for another lover.

"Do you dream of me?"

Every night, he silently snarled.

Elizabeth must have seen it in his eyes, for she smiled. "There are times I feel as if you have invaded and possessed me, but when I stare into your eyes, I only see chilling beauty. I like when you look at me so … as if I just might also own a piece of your soul."

James itched to feel that satiny skin under his hands, to feel the silk of her hair against his body. She gripped his shoulder with one hand and slipped the other under her dress to find her clitoris. Her fingers plucked and strummed her nub, and her wetness coated his cock, sending ripples of heated pleasure from his aching balls to his entire body. He teetered on the edge. Sweat slicked his body, and he felt as if he burned. His lover bore down harder, a sharp cry leaving her as she impaled her cunt deeper.

"James," she whimpered, her fingers rubbing her clitoris harder. "I am so hot and eager for you to fill me up."

Elizabeth kissed the corner of his mouth, the tenderness a stark contrast to the lush way she rolled her hips, sinking deeper onto his length. "You look so beautiful, James. Your jaw is hard, the muscles of your throat so pronounced. I know you want to toss me onto my knees and punish my cunt with a hot fucking … is that not what you told me, my duke, that this desperate want writhing low in my belly can only be eased with the hottest of fucking?"

By God … I damn well cannot … too soon …

She held his gaze, her eyes dark with lust, as she sank her wet pussy inch after torturous inch onto his cock. Shock waves of pleasure shuddered through James. He felt when her pussy finally caved against the force she pushed down with, and she slid onto his cock until he was buried to the hilt. Her wild cry echoed in his ears. She was so tight sweat beaded on his forehead. Elizabeth rocked, swiveled, then slid up and down over and over, riding him with intense sensuality, provocatively murmuring against his mouth that he was not allowed to release.

She was the most ravishing thing he had ever seen. And by God, James knew Elizabeth was the only thing he would ever need in this lifetime. This woman made him so damn weak and desperate. Her breathing grew ragged, and her words petered out to moans and sobs of pleasure as she twined both hands around his nape, dropped her forehead to his and thoroughly fucked her pussy onto his throbbing cock. She tightened, rippling over his length as she unraveled, soaking his trousers with her continuous climax.

"James," she cried out, tightening again and ripping his release from his body.

She was beautiful in her climax, skin flushed pink, hair spread, tumbling over her body and brushing against his skin like a silken waterfall, her pussy fluttering around his cock as his release pulled another orgasm from her. His muffled groan was one of deep pleasure, and his damn body shook.

"Now you can hold me, James," she whispered, tugging the cravat from between his teeth.

He released the arms of the chair, hugging her close. His lover kissed him, her tongue gliding sensually into his mouth, stealing James's breath away. Finally, their kiss ended. Her breath whispered across his mouth as her lashes lifted, and she stared into his eyes. Elizabeth's gaze was wide and vulnerable.

"You are so damn perfect," he said gruffly. "So beautiful."

She smiled, yawned indelicately, leaned forward and buried her face in the curve of his throat. James eased her off his length and stuffed himself back in his trousers. He stood and arranged her so that he lifted her in his arms. She did not lift her head, and given her deep breathing, James suspected she had already fallen asleep. Only a few glanced their way as he walked with her through the crowd, for they already moved on to watching others. With her mask and the dimly lit room, it would be extremely difficult for anyone to recognize Elizabeth. Still, he would not have her a minute longer at Aphrodite.

He exited the club and walked a short distance to his parked carriage. The footman who opened the door dared not look at the lady in James's arms. He briefly woke her so they could enter without any mishap but tugged her back into his arms once they were inside and seated. He glanced down at her and met her drowsy gaze.

"Sleep," he said, "Once we are at your aunt's home—"

"No," Elizabeth said, smothering another yawn. "Take me to my brother's home. I was visiting him and had not planned to return home until tomorrow. From his conversation, I gathered he went to an … orgy. I hope I recalled the proper word."

Bloody hell. From the bright humor in his lover's gaze, James knew she understood her brother had gone to indulge in a night of licentious excess somewhere. She closed her eyes and, within a few beats, tumbled into sleep. He knocked on the roof of the carriage, and when the coachman attended to him, James directed him to Brandon's home. Several minutes later, he roused Elizabeth and watched as she deftly slipped inside the townhouse.

James returned to the carriage, instructing the coachman to take him home. Elizabeth was unlike anyone he'd ever known—bold, intelligent, and utterly fearless. Her kisses were always filled with promises of passion, her laughter felt like a necessity, and her presence a constant challenge to his self-control. James was not a man to obsess over anything, especially a lover. For this reason, he felt as if he were tumbling into something he did not understand. He bloody did not like it, and for that reason, the following week, he resolved not to see her until he reasserted control of these maddening feelings.