Chapter 32

CHAPTER32

Later that night, Julia was calmly reading a book when the door to her bedchamber quietly slid open. For a moment, she thought it was Harriet, but she had already sent her maid away to rest for the night.

But then, she saw his tall frame and his broad shoulders which seemed to occupy most of the width of the doorway. It was Andrew, and he was sneaking into her bedchamber in the middle of the night like a bloody thief.

Julia did not know whether she should scream and launch her book at him or kiss him senseless.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, slamming her book shut and stalking over to him. “Are you insane? What if someone saw you go in?”

He had the audacity to even look affronted at her questions. “I made certain no one was around. I am not an idiot, Julia.”

“It depends on how you define idiocy!”

“Well, we are already courting,” he replied belligerently. “It is normal for couples who are courting to want to spend time with each other.”

Not in each other’s bedchambers, though, she thought, feeling that familiar tantalizing thrill skittering down her spine.

Her eyes followed the line of his broad shoulders as he shrugged off his coat and threw it carelessly to the side.

“And you are mine.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “No, I am not,” she corrected. “This is only a fake courtship, and need I remind you that this is me helping you get rid of all those young ladies hanging on your arm?”

“Jealous, Red?”

“You wish!”

“Let me show you how fake this courtship is, then.”

Andrew sighed and sat on her sofa, pulling her until she fell into his lap with a muffled shriek. It was then that she noticed the familiar smell on his breath.

Bracing her hands on his chest, Julia looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “Are you intoxicated, by any chance?”

It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but Andrew nodded with sham solemnity. “I am intoxicated by you,” he murmured as his hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer to him.

His mouth slanted over hers and at the first touch of lips, it felt as if her whole body was suddenly ignited. Set aflame.

Logic would have dictated that Julia slapped some sense back into him, threw him out of her bedchamber, and sent him on his way to his rooms. However, Julia found that logic always escaped her whenever it came to Andrew, and with a soft groan, she kissed him back with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building within her for the better part of the week.

I will burn for this, she thought in a haze of desire. But he is my only release from this torment.

“My God,” he groaned. “You will be the death of me someday.”

“You make it sound like being with me is so horrible.”

“On the contrary.” He grinned at her. “I could not think of a better way to leave this world.”

As he pulled her back down for another toe-curling kiss, Julia felt that she would much rather he stayed in this world and carried on with what he did. Andrew, she had discovered, had a way with his tongue and lips that had her shuddering and made her weak in the knees.

“I do not suppose I have ever seen you in your night rail before.” He eyed her form lasciviously. “I cannot say I have any complaints on that department, though. You look breathtaking, Red.”

She flushed at his compliment. Or maybe it was because he was languidly caressing her breast, gently squeezing the soft mound and running his fingers over the turgid peak.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” she told him.

His touch had her breathless, her core already wet and needy.

“But Red suits you so much,” he insisted. “And not just because it is the color of your hair. Red is for passion.”

For love,Julia thought, although she dared not say it.

What they had between them was not exactly love—not exactly what the poets wrote about. She had never come across a poem describing the ways Andrew made her gasp and moan, writhing beneath him as she went nearly out of her mind with desire. If the poets did write about something like that, then she would perhaps like to know where they kept their writings.

Not that they could compare to what she felt with Andrew, no, but a little research never hurt anyone. Besides, she was wholly inexperienced in comparison to him, and she was never one to want to be outdone.

Andrew gently pinched the stiff peak, and Julia let out a soft hiss, throwing her head back as she straddled his legs. Instinctively, she began to grind her hips against his manhood, and soon, he was groaning into her throat.

“Little witch,” he crooned into her skin. “Temptress.”

Julia smiled wickedly, knowing that he was just as affected by what she was doing. She began to grind against him more intentionally until with an impatient growl, he smoothly divested her of her night rail, and she was sitting naked on his lap, her wavy locks trailing down her back like molten fire.

He fisted her hair and pulled gently, baring her throat as his mouth clamped over her breast. Julia let out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as he wreaked havoc on her body until she could feel herself pulsing between her legs.

As if Andrew instinctively knew what she wanted, his hand plunged into the thatch of curls that shielded her most intimate parts, boldly parting her slick folds as his finger stroked her wet center.

“Damn, Red,” he said hoarsely. “Do you have any idea how wet and hot you are?”

Julia had a vague idea, yes, but she was far too occupied with his finger circling that little bud of pleasure between her legs as his lips gently sucked on her nipple.

Mewling, she tugged at his breeches, wordlessly conveying to him that she wanted to touch him, too. That she wanted to bring him as much pleasure as he did to her.

Her wish was granted when he impatiently took off his shirt and breeches until he was as gloriously naked as she was. He pushed her back onto the sofa and kissed her deeply as his finger slid into her wet center, gently stroking her until she was writhing on the sofa beneath him.

“I love how responsive you are, Red,” he whispered. “I love it when you tell me just how much you like what I am doing to your delicious body.”

“Please…” she moaned. “Andrew, please…”

She saw his grin flash in the firelight and knew that meant trouble.

“Oh, I know what you want, Red, and tonight, you are going to get it.”

Andrew stood up and clamped his hands under her knees before pulling her down the sofa.

Julia let out a surprised shriek. “What are you doing?” she asked in confusion.

He smiled mischievously at her. “Finding a better vantage point for pleasuring you, of course.”

It was then that she realized that her legs were dangling over the arm of the sofa, her hips raised as if she was some sort of obscene offering to him.

“What a delightful feast you present to me, my dear.” He laughed hoarsely. “It would be a shame to deny myself a taste.”

Julia let out a long moan as his tongue rasped audaciously at her center, sending her into a haze of pure, undiluted pleasure.

“Andrew… oh, Andrew… dear God!” she gasped.

She was writhing on the sofa, bucking her hips even as he held her still to receive the lashing of his tongue against her core. She clenched her hands into fists, her fingers digging into the cushions while Andrew feasted on her wet flesh like a starved man.

She held a hand over her mouth to muffle her loud moans, but Andrew reached out to grab it.

“I want to hear you, Red,” he told her. “I want to hear how I make you scream.”

Rogue!

As if to prove his point, his tongue swirled deliriously slowly over her flesh as it circled the bundle of nerves that drove her wild.

“Please,” she moaned. “Please, Andrew…”

“Then scream for me, Red,” he coaxed. “Scream for me, and I shall let you have everything you want.”

She nodded, and she could feel him smile against her sensitive flesh.

“Good girl,” he crooned.

Andrew fulfilled his promise and renewed his frenzied attack on her most intimate flesh, his tongue stroking and swirling, his lips gently sucking on her until she came with a low scream, her entire being exploding into a million tiny stars, all of them scattering into the dark night.

As Julia lay there, breathless and spent, he pressed a soft kiss to her still-heated flesh, and she shuddered. Gently, he eased her back onto the sofa and gathered her in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her sweat-drenched temple.

When she closed her eyes, she could see herself wanting more of this—wanting all of it. But she knew that if she dared to cross that line, she would never be satisfied. She was already insatiable for him as it was. Breaking the rules completely would break her as well, and she could not allow that.

“Andrew,” she murmured, “you really should go.”

He sighed. “Red, you really are the most annoying person, you know that?”

She bit her lower lip. “You know you cannot stay. If they suspect we’re doing this, I shall be ruined.”

“And so? If you are ruined, I shall take responsibility for you,” he retorted.

Julia flinched at his reply. Of course, he would take responsibility for her. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

But taking responsibility denoted a hint of reluctance. As if marrying her was an obligation he should fulfill just because he had compromised her.

“Very well,” he groaned, rising from the sofa and reaching for his scattered clothes. “I shall see you at breakfast tomorrow, and you had better be seated at my side, or else.”

She sat up, watching him dress. “But is this not what we planned all along? What we agreed on?”

He looked at her and for a moment, she could see the frustration brewing in his eyes. She could see that he was almost about to explode.

“I thought—” he started but then closed his mouth, his eyes going cold. “Never mind. I shall see you tomorrow.”

She did not say anything more as he gave her a curt nod before leaving her room just as quietly as he had come in.

Julia knew that this was for the best, that they could not keep seeing each other like this. For her, at least, because she was finding herself getting more and more attached to him. If she was any more tied up with him, their eventual separation would break her into pieces.

She curled her legs up to her chest and willed herself to be strong as she stared into the fireplace, watching the flames dance, listening to the logs cracking.

It is better this way.

Maybe if she kept saying it long enough, she would eventually come to believe it, too.