Chapter Fifteen

God, her lips were so soft and yielding. Vivian welcomed him with everything that she was, but then, he'd come to expect that from her over the time he'd spent with her. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't give in to her teasing, especially if she didn't truly love him, or if there was no future between them, but he couldn't help it. The longer the kisses continued, the more he wanted her, needed this coupling with her to make him forget the words of that damned note a courier delivered, the words he'd read shortly before taking the dose of laudanum that sent him into slumber.

You know what the right thing is to do. The things you did in the war can never be scrubbed from your soul. You took more lives than you saved. Stop holding Vivian hostage and let her go. There is only one way out, and you know it. Make certain St. Vincent's ball is your last night on earth else I will put a ball between your eyes myself.

Who had authored it, had it delivered? He couldn't say, but he suspected it was Starkington's doing. Despite him resolving to be strong or to ignore the horrible words, they'd attached to the feelings of melancholy and the depressing thoughts he couldn't help listening to, and the whole mass moved him closer and closer to what would no doubt be his last decision.

Yet all the while, he couldn't help himself, couldn't keep his hands from his wife's body. Kissing Vivian, holding her, loving her, was what felt the most like home, and damn but he would fight to keep that alive.

When she'd explained everything, when they'd gotten down to the bare bones of what had happened, he'd understood her better than he ever thought. In her position, he would have perhaps done the same.

Yet that didn't excuse the fact he was still a broken man.

The dance of her fingertips along his shoulders, down his arms, brought him back to the present, and he refocused his attention on his wife. Desire flared anew, and he resumed tearing the gown from her body. "I apologize for the frock. Order three more to replace it."

"I adore it when you show your forceful side." She stepped out of the ruined gown then toed off her slippers. "Besides, I'm not certain that was my color." Then she licked a path down his chest, but when she would have kneeled before him, he prevented the action by cupping a hand about her nape, hauling her against him, and claiming her lips once more.

There was simply nothing like kissing his wife. Every meeting, every glance, every caress from her that he followed with his own was like dancing, flying, evaporating into the air. Seconds later, he broke away merely to do something as pedestrian as breathe, and when she smiled, his world tilted and skittered to one side.

"It was a lovely gown, but you are by far more beautiful when you wear nothing at all." So saying, he slipped his hands to the laces of her stays. "So let us make that happen."

"I don't believe I've bid you nay yet, Baselton." Her eyes were passion-drugged, and the desire therein was much like what was shooting through his veins. Made even more acute when she nipped and licked beneath his jaw and again down the side of his neck.

In a thrice, the horrid garment came away from her body, and it took next to no time to divest her of the fine lawn shift. "Finally." Evan crushed her into an embrace and couldn't help but slide his hands down the silky length of her back to clutch her buttocks. The sound of her moan coupled with her faint floral scent nearly drove him to the brink of madness, but it was much too soon, and there was pleasure to be had. When he reached for her breasts, she pulled out of his embrace.

"Not yet." She tsked her tongue while wagging a finger at him. "Not until you are as nude as I. I refuse to let you have all the fun."

"Cheeky woman." But he grinned as he retreated a few steps then shucked out of his breeches and tossed them away. "Come. This afternoon, you are mine, and I refuse to hear anything else about it."

The woman practically purred as she went willingly back into his arms. "And what of St. Vincent's ball tonight?" Drawing her fingertips down his chest, she peered up into his face. "Will I remain yours then?"

How could he tell her that he didn't plan to be alive past the halfway point that ball?

You know what the right thing is to do.

Instead, he said, "You will for as long as I live." But he didn't guarantee how long that would be. Not willing to sink into that dark place in this moment, he kissed her again until he was well and truly lost in the softness of her lips and the warmth of her mouth.

The satin feel of her skin urged him to explore as did the breathy sounds she made. Already, she caressed any part of him she could reach while he cupped her breasts, worried the nipples into stiff peaks before dipping his head and taking one of the pebbled buds into his mouth.

"Oh, oh! Keep going. You know how I like it." A few gasping breaths followed the entreaty while she clasped her hand to the back of his head and kept him where she apparently wanted him.

That statement was only half true, for he didn't remember how they used to come together, but recently, he had learned quickly what sent her into the highest heights. With a growl, he moved his hands to her hair and methodically plucked the pins from her hair. They pinged faintly against the hardwood floor. As the fragrant mass tumbled down about her shoulders and back, Evan walked her backward and at the window where he contemplated his existence, he turned her about so that she faced outward in all her naked glory.

"The threat of public display should ramp your awareness, and let us hope your responses." Had he always been that daring or risqué? It was difficult to tell, but it felt right at the moment, especially when she gasped and placed a palm on the window glass.

"You are quite a naughty boy," she said with a glance over her shoulder at him.

"Only where you are concerned." Once more, he cupped her breasts, squeezed them, then brushed his open palms over the nipple tips and grinned when she squirmed. "If you do nothing else for me, Vivy, remember me as I am this afternoon. Remember the man who walked with you in Hyde Park, the man who finds the waddle of fat geese so ridiculous that it's hilarious."

There is only one way out, and you know it.

"I find that endearing, though." A sigh came on the heels of a laugh when he rolled both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "But why would you say that?"

"Never you mind." It took more willpower to shove the hateful, damning words of that note to the back of his brain. Need throbbed through his impossibly hard shaft, so he layered himself against her back, rubbed the tip of his length between her buttocks merely for a modicum of relief.

"Mmm, will you take me from behind this afternoon?" Anticipation threaded through the whispered inquiry.

"Only fate knows." If he did that now, the whole session would go by too quickly, for that degree and angle of penetration would quickly send him over the edge. "I think I'll play for a bit, and if you respond correctly, I'll continue." Bloody hell, what had gotten into him? Surely this wasn't proper deportment for an earl, but a wild part of him didn't care. Sex and romance sometimes didn't require proper, for life was raw and real and messy.

Like his thoughts.

With one hand, he twisted and plucked at her nipples while he slipped the other one down her torso, over the soft swell of her belly, past her mons, then delved his fingers through the curls shrouding that all-important hidden bundle of nerves.

"Open for me, Vivy. I want to play, to see how fast you'll go over the edge so I can do it all over again." If he performed well enough, she couldn't help but remember him for a long time… even after she'd married Starkington, let him put his hands on her beautiful body.

How can I give her up?

"Dear heavens." As she gasped, Vivan widened her stance. "Mr. Davis is on the street, no doubt doing errands for the afternoon. What if he sees us on his way back?"

The thought of the butler glancing upward at Evan's bedchamber windows and seeing the naked body of the countess while in the throes of passion caused him to chuckle. "Well, he'll either be too well bred to mention it, shocked to his core and give notice, or he'll prove a horrible gossip, which means we'll endure a few days of intense awkwardness in front of the staff." While he spoke, he parted her feminine flesh in order to coax that nubbin out of hiding. "Either way, it matters not, because this is a natural part of life… unless the man is too wrapped up in the warped ideology and skewed views of religious fanatics."

That was a troubling turn of events he'd recently become aware of, and knowing such evangelicals were out there convincing sections of the populace that intercourse for the sake of enjoyment over reproduction was evil didn't sit well.

Have we learned nothing from the Middle Ages?

Seconds later, he swept the subject matter from his mind so he could concentrate on giving his wife as much pleasure as she could bear. "That's it. Relax and let me have carte blanche over your body," he whispered against the shell of her ear as he strummed his fingers along her flesh already slick with arousal. He punctuated the request by rolling a nipple from root to tip merely to have her wriggle against him.

"Evan…"

"Think of me always. Don't let my memory be forgotten," he whispered while intensifying his actions.

Make certain St. Vincent's ball is your last night on earth…

"I don't understand why you keep saying things like that." Then a moan interrupted whatever else she would have said.

"It doesn't matter." Nothing did, which was why he'd concentrate on her in this moment and then prepare for his last. So she could have the life she'd always wanted.

With varying degrees of friction, he moved the pads of his fingers over that slippery button then went in a circular pattern. At the same time, her fondled her nipple and kissed her nape. When she arched her back, made soft sounds in her throat, he knew she was close. The second she pinched her other nipple, he had to steel himself from the need to spend, for it was quite the erotic sight.

Everything was so intense, and somehow that meshed with the franticness of his thoughts but also calmed the chaos in his mind. Temporarily, of course, because he was far too broken to have escaped such a thing. Vivian didn't seem to mind his insane drive to send her to the brink. In fact, her responses fed his own. He couldn't have enough of her, and as he played, his shaft hardened exponentially. It was a cycle of pleasure and pain that kept him quite alert and ready to pop off at any second.

But this was exclusively for her—the whole afternoon was—and he would keep these images of her in his mind when he did what was necessary.

Make certain St. Vincent's ball is your last night on earth…

"Evan, oh dear heavens, Evan!" She squirmed in his hold, bumped her hips against his, which sent acute sensation through his shaft. "Ah!" As she fell into that first release, Vivian clutched his hand to her breast, brought her other around to his nape and held him closer. "So powerful," she managed to whisper amidst panting breaths.

"Good." There was no stopping now; he had to possess her, leave his mark indelibly on her so she might look back on this moment with fondness. He wasted no time in turning her about. "It's not nearly over, though." As he kissed her with both authority and gentleness, he pressed her naked back against the window.

"I need you so much." Whether it was the coolness of the glass at her skin or the fact he hadn't truly stopped kissing or caressing her since they started, he couldn't say, but she was a woman thrown to the edge of passion. When he picked her up, held her legs beneath her thighs and the satin ribbons of her garters brushed his fingers, she murmured her agreement, wrapped her legs and arms around him, and then shamelessly kissed him back with abandon.

Bloody hell. In that moment, everything he struggled with ceased to exist. There was only her and him. Their hands were everywhere, and he especially adored the feel of her fingers sliding through his hair as she planted kisses all over his face and neck. God, she was exquisite squashed tightly between his body and the window glass. Her quivering thighs, the kiss of her damp opening as his shaft rubbed along it nearly had him on his knees, begging her to save him. In the meanwhile, kisses were exchanged without discrimination until they were both panting and gasping with ardent need.

And he was completely, utterly, irrevocably lost in her. Knowing that this woman could give herself to a relative stranger after the trauma they'd already endured together both humbled and amazed him.

Lifting her in his arms, Evan carried her to the bed. Once she squirmed into a comfortable position, he joined her, kissed his way from her lips all the way down her body, leaving no place of her silky skin untouched or unexplored. When she reached for him, he denied her request, and when he reached her abdomen, he gently urged her legs apart. There was something far too intoxicating about pleasuring a woman when she was naked save for stockings and garters.

"The world is a much better place with you in it, Vivy," he murmured then dipped his head between her splayed thighs and dared to taste that part of her that was unique to her. Never did he want to forget her; he would carry this memory in his mind to block out the knowledge of what he had to do. What he must do in order to ensure her happiness.

"Oh!" The poor woman buried her fingers in his hair. When she alternately tried to shove him away but hold him close, he knew he was on the right track. "Evan, oh goodness, I'm going to shatter again."

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he made the best use of his tongue in an effort to pleasure the hell out of her; the sweet taste that lingered as he suckled and swiped and soothed was truly the nectar of the gods. All it took to send her over the edge this time was the simple brush, a gentle roll of a nipple and she bucked against his face with a soft keening cry.

"Where have you been hiding this man?" she asked in a whispered voice drenched with exhaustion. "I could spend days locked away with you and wouldn't feel any shame."

"I've always been here, waiting, hoping you would notice." He came back up her body, and when he kissed her mouth, she looped her arms around him, matched his hunger and kissed him back as if she would never see him again.

Stop holding Vivian hostage and let her go.

Perhaps she wouldn't after tonight. It was the only way he could think of that would bring her true happiness and the life she deserved, the life she'd planned for… without him.

Needing more of a connection with her, Evan flipped them both over, which made her sprawl on top of him. "Take what you need from me; this coupling is for you."

"You have never done this before, allowed me the lead." Her eyes were rounded and filled with delight as well as dark passion. "I rather like it." In a twinkling, his wife straddled his hips, and the second she took his shaft in her hand to guide him where she wanted him, sensation shot through the whole of his form. "Yes, I like this position very much."

Then she slowly, so fucking slowly, lowered herself onto his rigid length, never stopping until she was fully impaled.

Their moans blended together. As she rested a palm on his shoulder and stared down at him, a tremulous grin curved her kiss-swollen lips. Her slender frame, the curves that resembled an hourglass, the honey-colored waterfall of her hair coursing down her back, those hardened pink nipples that jutted proudly… dear God! She was beautiful with the anemic afternoon sun coming in behind her like a halo.

"I will always remember you as you look right now," he said in a whisper filled with awe.

"Then let me help with that." It took a few moments while she experimented, and with each movement, waves of awareness and need slammed into him. Finally, she found a rhythm that she enjoyed, and the combination of gyrations, bouncing, and the way she stroked her body along his shaft had the power to send him into the seventh heavens of delight.

In that moment, he was transformed, for he was in awe of her as she worked him over. Every time her breasts bounced and swayed, the urge to spend nearly overwhelmed him, but he shoved the need away, for he would enjoy this joining for as long as he could.

How could he give her up, and to that bastard Starkington, no less? Yet for her happiness, her future, she deserved so much more than the broken man that he was.

Ready to shake apart from the exquisite sensations pumping through his body, Evan wrapped his arms around her, and with a grunt and tensed muscles, he flipped them both over again. Her hair was like spilled honey on the pillows, and as he settled between her legs, he met her gaze, tumbled down, down, down into the cool blue pools of her eyes, and he lost his heart to her in that moment. "Ah, Vivy, if you only knew…"

Unable to finish the thought, he speared into her heat, penetrated as far as he could, thrusting deep as if he were a man possessed.

There is only one way out, and you know it.

Over and over and over, he claimed her body, joined them together irrevocably, held his weight on his forearms and let himself go. As she clung to his shoulders, held him close while meeting every stroke, he slowed his mad rhythm merely to savor this one last act.

To savor her, to sear her into his mind's eye because she was the only good thing he had left, and only for a little while.

"Merciful heavens. Oh, Evan…" Tears rolled down her cheeks, no doubt from the sensations racking her as much as the closeness of the connection.

"I know." There was no stopping the moisture that welled in his own eyes, but for much different reasons. Now more than ever, he realized there was no one else on this earth for him that was as right as Vivian. "I know." Then he shifted his rhythm, and his thrusts became frantic, uncontrolled, deep, possessive.

Once. Twice. Thrice. That was all it took for them to shoot over the edge of release into bliss. Together. It was quite poetic and made that finish all too spectacular. As the contractions of her inner walls sucked greedily at his shaft, he ground his hips into hers to prolong the sensations, to make the coupling that much longer, but then it was over, and he collapsed into her body while murmuring words that had no meaning into her ear. The feel of her arms going around his middle, the wetness of the tears on her cheek as it layered against his was the height of intimate and special.

"Bloody hell that was amazing." Not wanting the afternoon to end, Evan held her close, kept them physically joined for as long as he could. Shock reverberated through his chest, for that was very nearly perfect.

"You are amazing, Evan. Simply wonderful." She stirred only enough to stroke a hand up and down his spine. "I hope you realize that." There were emotions in her eyes he didn't dare read or interpret, couldn't for it would affect his plans.

And she didn't deserve a man as damaged as he.

"Ah, sweeting." Holding her close, he shifted onto his side and took her with him. "Thank you for this." Muscles protested, as if he hadn't truly used them until now, but the coupling had brought him one stark and shining truth. He loved her, loved her as much as he could as the man that he was.

But he rather suspected that it wasn't enough. That is what his mind had convinced himself, and he refused to hold her back any longer.

Huffing as confusing thoughts once more filled his brain, he buried his nose into her hair that still retained a faint floral scent. "Not bad for an older man, hmm?"

"Do stop, Baselton. You are sublime."

They shared a breathless laugh, but he feared reality was already creeping in.

Eventually, he stirred. "In a moment, I will take advantage of the tea tray you brought in."

She snorted. "The tea will undoubtedly be cold by now."

"Tea is tea, love. And I'm famished besides." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Also, we will need to ready ourselves for St. Vincent's ball soon."

"Perhaps, though if I had my druthers, I'd spend the remainder of the night here with you." Her breath steamed the side of his neck. "Once the ball is over, I don't want to retire to my own room. I will pass the night here, with you, in this bed, so I can touch you whenever I want and hear you breathe beside me."

There is only one way out, and you know it.

He didn't answer—couldn't. For there wouldn't be an opportunity for that. Not once he'd done what he needed to do.

After lying together for a bit, he reluctantly left the bed while she did the same.

Once she donned her shift, she padded to the door that led to the corridor, glanced over her shoulder at him, and smiled. "In the event you need to hear it, I am glad you're here, Evan. I look forward to dancing a waltz with you tonight, to showing everyone in the ton that you are mine."

Oh, God.

"Thank you." Emotions graveled his voice as he nodded. "I hope after tonight you finally have the life you have always wanted." Though she frowned, Vivian left the room, and he collapsed into the nearest chair, planting his elbows on his knees and buried his head in hands.

What the hell should I do? What is the right decision?