Chapter Twenty-Four

H art turned at the snick of the door shutting. Across the room, Lucy leaned against the door, her eyes shut. What was she doing down here? He set his drink down on the windowsill.

“Lucy?”

Her eyes popped open, and she straightened. She wore a white satin robe. Her russet hair fell over her shoulders in long waves. God, a man could get lost in all that silky hair. His fingers twitched.

“I was looking for you. You weren’t in your room.”

“You went to my room?” His voice felt hoarse. She had come to his bedroom. In her nightgown. To find him. His brain slowed as all the blood raced farther south.

He had escaped downstairs shortly after leaving her in her room. Being separated by only an unlocked door had been torture, and he had immediately regretted his big speech this morning. His cock didn’t give a rat’s ass whether she still had feelings for Murdoch. She had agreed to be his wife, and it turned out he was one possessive bastard. He’d sat on the edge of the bed for less than ten minutes before deciding to come downstairs and brood over his choices.

He had been sure it would take time for her to come to him. More time for him to flirt and to kiss and to seduce. More time for her to get used to his ugly scars. But here she was, searching him out like an angel, all dressed in virginal white.

She floated toward him. “You said you’d be waiting.”

The catch in her voice had him moving to her. He searched her face for clues to how she was feeling. “I didn’t think you would come so soon.”

“I didn’t like being alone in that big bed with the ugly canopy.” Her eyes were luminous in the lamplight as they gazed up at him.

“Ugly?” he couldn’t help but smile.

Lucy nodded. “But mostly lonely.”

“That’s no way to spend your wedding night,” he murmured. Entranced by her fingers as they played across his chest. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Are you sure you are ready?”

Lucy pulled her hand away and stepped back. “Why is it you’re still reluctant? Do you still see me as the girl you are responsible for?” She turned her back to him. “I know that your offer of protection is the reason for our marriage. But am I so hideous that you cannot bear to bed me?”

God, she was so adorable and so very wrong.

Hart wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I have not thought of you as a girl in many years. Why do you think I sent you with Trudy to travel on the continent?”

“You did not want to be bothered with me.”

“No, because it was my responsibility to protect you, and all I wanted to do was defile you.” He leaned down to nuzzle her ear. “You bother me plenty.”

She relaxed against him. “I do?”

“Yes, and I know that this marriage was not your first choice. That you had other plans with your beau. I just don’t want to rush you. You are definitely not the hideous one in this marriage.”

“You are not hideous!” She twisted around in his arms. Then she shut her eyes and sighed deeply. “There was never an understanding with Mr. Murdoch.”

“So, he was just seducing you without promising marriage? Rogue! I’ll kill him myself.”

“No, I mean I made it all up. Mr. Murdoch doesn’t even know I exist.”

Hart stared down at her flushed cheeks. What?

“You looked at me with so much pity that day. Poor Lucy, no prospects except money-grubbing fortune hunters. So, I made up a beau. And when you asked for his name, the first name that popped into my head was Murdoch. Violet is always telling me what a handsome flirt he is when he comes to see her father.” Lucy shrugged.

No Mr. Murdoch. No lovers at all. He grasped handfuls of her robe and tugged her close. “There is no one else that you wish to be with?”

Her hands rose and cupped his face. “Oh, Hart, there’s never been anyone but you.”

He saw the truth of it in her eyes. That truth scared him. Just like it had a year ago. But he would not turn her away again. He did not know why she would pledge her heart to a damaged rogue like him, but she was his wife. Mine. He bent and captured her lips.

Lucy slid her arms around his neck and sank into the kiss. Her lips opened for him on a sigh, and he dipped his tongue in to play with hers. Her kiss incited a fire low in his belly, the burn of arousal like a shot of fine Irish whisky. Hart was suddenly desperate for every inch of her. He slipped his hands into her hair, running through the waterfall of glossy strands. It was just as soft as he imagined. “Lucy, will you show me what you are wearing under this robe?” He murmured against her mouth.

She nodded. Stepping back, she tugged loose the belt. The robe parted. She slipped one shoulder off, exposing pale creamy skin, then she shrugged off the other. Underneath she wore a nightgown in a gossamer white to match. It fell to her knees and showcased the lovely length of her legs. The outline of her small pert breasts was visible through the thin fabric, and her tightly pebbled nipples jutted out, tempting him to pull one into his mouth. His gaze wandered down the soft curves of her hips and to the thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs. Hart licked his lips.

“Helen said you would like it. There is not much of it to speak of.”

Hart grabbed her around the waist. “Oh, I like it. You are like a gossamer angel. I can’t believe you are mine.” He slowly walked her backward toward the tufted sofa in front of the fireplace. Dipping his head, he kissed her again. Nipping at her bottom lip, he then soothed it with his tongue. “This plump bottom lip drives me mad with desire. When you worry it with your teeth, when you lick at the corner, all I can think about is nibbling on it.” He sucked that berry pink lip between his teeth for a second time before slanting his head and devouring her mouth once more. The taste of her was intoxicating.

She let out a squeak as her bottom hit the back of the sofa. Hart picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Having her pussy notched against his erection was divine torture.

Lucy tore her lips from his with a gasp. Her eyes widened. “What is that?”

Hart froze. “Lucy, did Trudy talk with you about what to expect on your wedding night?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Your mother?”

Lucy shook her head.

Good Lord. He moved them around to the other side of the sofa and sat down. Lucy still straddled him, but he set her back a few inches onto his thighs, already missing the sweet heat of her sex. She stared down at the bulge in his trousers, and he sucked in a deep breath. He’d never bedded anyone so innocent. How did one explain the mechanics? Or was showing better than telling?

“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks stained pink. “I was just surprised.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetness.” He cupped her cheek. “I let myself get carried away, forgetting that you are a virgin. I assumed that you had some knowledge of what happens between a man and a woman.”

“The only thing I’ve overheard was that a woman must lie there quietly and bear the attentions of her husband. Is that what I am supposed to do? Because your kisses don’t make me feel like I can lie there and be still.” She rolled her hips restlessly.

Hart groaned and leaned forward to kiss her. “Is that what they are telling young women? Christ. What you heard is wrong. I hope that my kisses and my touch enflame you and bring you pleasure. You should never have to endure anything.” He grasped her chin gently. “If there is anything I do that does not feel good, you tell me. Do you hear me?”

She nodded. Her gaze again flitted down to his erection.

“This is my desire for you.” He slowly began to unbutton his falls. “When a man becomes excited his cock lengthens and hardens.”

He peeled back the flap of fabric and grasped his cock, drawing it out. He gave it a slow stroke as she watched.

“Is it sensitive?”

“Uh-mmm,” he managed as he stroked it again. Her curious gaze was killing him. He’d never been this hard in his life. Taking his cock out had definitely been a mistake.

Then she reached out and stroked one finger over the head, changing his mind. It had been a bloody brilliant idea.

“It’s so smooth,” she murmured.

He let go of his shaft and let her explore. Her fingers were gentle as she petted him. Perhaps he would lose his mind before she had satisfied her curiosity, but he’d happily sacrifice his sanity if he could continue to have her hands on him. Then her fingers wrapped around his cock. She pumped her hand once with the kind of grip he craved, causing him to jerk his hips in response. Christ, he was going to come in her hand and ruin her first experience. He pulled her hand from around him, bringing her fingers up to kiss them.

“Sweetness, your first time should be about your pleasure. Let me show you. Can I touch you?”

Lucy’s eyes tracked his hands as he quickly tucked himself back into his trousers. Then he slid his hands up her thighs, rubbing small circles on the soft skin along the inside. The small gasp that escaped her lips was more desire than alarm but he stopped at the hem of her nightgown, where it had been rucked up, just barely covering her sex.

Her rosy nipples were right at his eye level, the tips puckered and begging to be sucked. Hart leaned forward to lave one with his tongue right through the thin fabric covering it. Her soft moan encouraged him to take it into his mouth and give the tight bud a long suck. Her breasts were lush, her nipple stiff as he flicked his tongue against it. Then he switched to the other nipple and gave it the same attention.

He glanced up to gauge her reaction and found her watching him with eyes full of need. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, and her hips undulated again. “Hart, please show me what else. I feel as though I’m on a precipice.” Her fingers flexed, tugging at his hair in the most delicious way.

“I know what you need, sweetness.” He slowly moved his hands up higher to her center, brushing his thumbs over the curls of her mons while he watched her face for any signs of discomfort. “Have you ever touched yourself here, Lucy?”

She shook her head.

“Not in the bath or at night when you lay in bed?”

“No, should I have?” Lucy gasped as he ran one finger down her seam and circled lightly over her opening. She was already wet, and he spread the moisture back and forth gently as she circled her hips. “That feels good.” She moved her hands to grasp his forearms, her nails biting into his skin.

“Yes, sweet, move those hips. That’s a good girl.” He found her clit with his thumb. When he pressed it firmly, she shouted his name. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He rubbed tight circles relentlessly over her clit.

“Yes, yes, that feel so good.”

Only then did he slide a finger into the wet silky heat of her pussy. Pumping it in and out slowly into the silky heat as she soaked his hand. He inserted another finger and sought out the spot that he knew would make her scream his name.

Lucy lunged forward and captured his mouth in a fierce kiss that stole his breath. She panted against his mouth, her tongue tangling with his, her teeth scraping across his bottom lip. The unguarded passion in her eyes had his hunger for her snapping against the leash of his self-control. Her hips never stopped circling, chasing her pleasure, and he imagined them pumping up and down on his cock.

Gripping the back of her neck, he kissed her back as his other hand worked her tight pussy. Taking her higher and higher until, with a gasp, she pulled off his mouth. Her eyes closed, and her head fell back on a long moan. He rubbed his fingers in the same spot again and again. “That’s it sweet, come for me,” he demanded. His need to see her come apart in his arms wild and desperate. In the next moment, she seized up, her inner muscles pulsating around his fingers, as she screamed his name.

Magnificent in her crisis, Lucy gave herself over to the pleasure with pure abandon. Watching her come apart sent him over the edge. His cock pulsed and bucked as he came in his trousers for the first time since he was a randy boy of fourteen. He brought her lips to his for a long kiss. Then he laid his forehead against hers and tried to regain control of his racing heart. Christ, this woman was going to bring him to knees.

“That was amazing,” Lucy whispered after a few minutes.

He nodded, incapable of putting into words how he felt. Amazing, yes. Destroyed might be the better descriptor.

“That was love making? Maybe the other men are doing it wrong.”

Hart let out a hoarse chuckle. “That was just part of it. Let’s call that lesson one.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “When is lesson two?”

He shifted them so that he lay down along the sofa with her on top of him, her head tucked into his good shoulder. He brushed her hair away from her face, indulging his fantasy and combing his finger through the long, satin locks. “Maybe in a little bit. A man needs a few moments to recover.”

“Oh,” she said with a small sleepy yawn. With her eyes falling closed, she snuggled against him.

Hart wrapped his arm tightly around her. The intimacy of holding her this close hit him hard in the center of his chest. The loneliness of the past year had been of his own making. A self-protective shell he had created. But Lucy had not paid any attention to his walls. She had marched right back into his life without permission and turned the whole thing on its head. She was a gift he certainly didn’t deserve.

He kissed the top of her head. “Rest. We will get to lesson two soon enough.”