Chapter Nine

As he moved closer, Catherine felt her heartbeat quicken and her skin prickle. Already her body associated him with pleasure, and yet they barely knew each other. He had been at his most charming a moment ago, to Benny and the others, and now that his focus was on her she was aware of just how intoxicating that charm could be. Her cheeks heated, and she shivered as his breath stirred her hair. There was a warmth between her thighs and an ache low in her belly, and she wanted him.

He made her feel like she never had before. She wanted more. For years she had longed for an interlude like this, with a man like Sebastian, and now that she knew exactly what she had been missing, she was torn. Before she had taken shelter at The White Rose, and fallen into Sebastian’s arms, she had been resigned to living at Winstanton until Jack was twenty-one. She had been determined to swallow her unhappiness for his sake. But now... Catherine was struggling with that idea of a lonely, solitary life.

At the same time, was it a good idea to be making more memories when she knew their time together was finite? Wouldn’t that just make her return to Winstanton more difficult? Even if it was a foolish decision, Catherine wasn’t going to say no to him. She wanted as much of him as she could get. Her experiences at The White Rose could be stored up in preparation for the long, cold years stretching before her.

His breath brushed her ear again, and as though he had read her thoughts, he said in a deep growl of a voice, “I want you.”

She closed her eyes. His fingers skimmed against hers where they rested on the table, and then he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the curl of her knuckles.

“I can’t get enough of you. I want to be between your thighs. I want my tongue inside you.” His whisper filled her head with hot, delicious images.

She squeezed her legs together and his hand dropped to her thigh, smoothing over her skirts, cupping her knee. Her breath hitched.

“I could take you right here. Right now,” he said, and the tip of his tongue followed the whorl of her ear. “And you’d let me, Duchess.” He nuzzled against her throat.

“I... we can’t.” But her voice was feeble, and she was imagining him lifting her, spreading her thighs, and freeing his cock. The bulge beneath the flap in his pantaloons was obvious.

“You can,” he said. He was drawing up her skirts, inch by inch, and in a moment he would have his hand on her bare skin. She ached, waiting, wanting his touch. He was seducing her with his words, and it was working.

Ah, there it was! His fingers stroked her bare thigh, moving upward while she shook and trembled. Those clever fingers slid between her legs and found the wet heat of her. She groaned, and pressed her face into his shoulder, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out as he rubbed her swollen flesh, dipping inside her. Again and again, building her desire to an urgent fever pitch. She moved against his hand, she couldn’t help it, and he murmured approval and encouragement.

Then it happened. A wave of blissful pleasure, overtaking her mind and body, and stealing her breath for a moment. When she came to herself, he had removed his hand and rearranged her skirts and was smiling at her. The charming smile that warmed his pale eyes and curled his soft lips. Something inside her fluttered, not just desire but something more. Something dangerously close to infatuation.

Suddenly Mr. Querol gave a snorting snore, making them both jump. Sebastian’s shoulders shook with laughter, and Catherine could hardly contain her own giggles. The weight of the moment had been lifted.

“Come to my room,” she said decisively. She stood up and, when she reached the door, looked back over her shoulder. She made the gesture coquettish and for a novice she thought she did rather well. His expression grew more intent, and she had his full attention. Her breath grew a little shaky—that sense there wasn’t enough air in the room—as she closed the door.

There was no one in the passageway or on the stairs, although she could hear Maggie’s laughter from the kitchen at the rear of the building. With the early darkness closing in, the inn was full of shadows, and when she reached her room, Catherine lit a candle. The fire was still burning nicely, keeping her warm as she went to the window to draw the curtain.

For a moment she considered the bleak view from her windows at Winstanton—rocky ground and the moorland stretching away forever. The castle was old and drafty, and despite the fires that were kept burning in the main rooms, it stayed chilly. She had noticed how warm and comfortable her mother’s house in London had been in comparison. If it weren’t for Jack she wouldn’t go home at all. But she couldn’t abandon him.

He was an engaging child and yet his father had rarely spent time with him, preferring to ignore him whenever possible. In contrast, his Aunt Ellinor had loved him fiercely from the day he was born. Catherine could not fault the duke’s sister when it came to Jack, although she was not an easy woman to know. When Catherine first arrived at Winstanton, Ellinor had kept to her rooms, barely speaking to her, running the house like an efficient ghost. After Jack arrived, things had changed. The two women had bonded over the child and now, although Catherine did not feel Ellinor was her bosom bow, she trusted her to care for Jack while she was away.

The knock on the door reminded her she was expecting a visitor. Memory of their intimate act of moments ago brought that ache back to her belly. How could she want him again this soon? But the truth was that she did.

As Catherine went to let him in, she realized she was smiling, and when she opened the door, she wasn’t surprised to see that Sebastian was smiling, too. That teasing twist to his full, soft lips. Those oh-so-kissable lips.

Then he was inside her room, the door closed and locked behind him. His focus was on her as he drew her against him. Before she could speak, he bent his head and kissed her. It was not as gentle as his previous kisses, but it was certainly thorough, and it left her tingling and needy.

“I’ve been wanting to do that,” he growled. Then, that intent look again. “Are you tender?”

“Tender? Oh!” It was new to have a man even think of such things. Catherine pushed aside embarrassment and considered the intimate question. She was a little delicate from where they had connected earlier, but it was definitely not enough to stop her from wanting him to do it again. She shook her head.

He looked unsure as to whether he should believe her. “Let us start with another kiss,” he said, and this time his lips barely brushed against her own, over and over again. This was seduction, and she could feel herself falling under his spell.

He lifted his head, and when she tried to reconnect her mouth to his, he kept just out of reach, not allowing her to deepen the kiss. He continued to stroke her lips with his, clasping her upper arms, his thumbs making soothing circular motions against her skin.

It was gentle and considerate and... it was torture. Her breasts were swollen and aching for his touch as she leaned into him, and she whimpered with relief when his hand finally slid up between their bodies, and he cupped her rounded flesh. When he stroked the plump bud with his thumb she arched into his touch, wondering if it was possible to want him more this time than the last.

He kissed her again, licking along her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth and let him in. Oh, he was good at this. His kiss grew more passionate, making her head spin as he finished with the soft pressure of his teeth, once again on her bottom lip.

While she stood, dazed, he looked around and spotted the chair by the window.

“Undress for me,” he demanded, an arrogant note in his voice.

And just like that the spell was broken.

“Undress for you?” The question was sharp. “So that you can see if I am perfect?” Her voice broke, as she felt herself suddenly swamped by the worst memories from her marriage.

Sebastian blinked in surprise and then his expression sobered. He could hardly miss her shocked expression, or the tension in her body as she tried to push him away. “Catherine—”

“Those times... he treated me as a cold and unfeeling thing. Less than a woman. Searching, always searching for a blemish, and if he found the slightest one... it was always my fault. He—he...”

Her voice wavered and she tried to hold the gush of words in. He didn’t want to hear this, he didn’t.

Sebastian reached for her, pulled her back into his arms and held her there. She was still tempted to fight him, but it was so nice here like this. The memories faded, and so did the threat of tears. Now that the duke was dead, she refused to cry over the past, but hearing Sebastian say that—she had felt so vulnerable.

“You felt powerless when he did that,” he murmured against her temple. “But I won’t force you to do anything. I am giving that power to you, Catherine. You can undress for me and make me want you even more than I already do. Or you can sit down and we can discuss politics.” He huffed a laugh at the look of disappointment on her face. “Or you can seduce me, and I promise you I will be your willing victim.”

She tilted her head back. Undress for him? And for herself. She imagined seducing him like that, watching him as he watched her, aware of how much he desired her. Teasing him, perhaps? A shiver of anticipation ran through her. She could do that, couldn’t she? Take her husband’s dominance over her and turn it about? It would be a remarkably apt way of exorcising those painful memories.

“Yes,” she said. “I want to.”

He searched her face, and when he read her resolve he smiled. “Good,” he said, his voice deep and husky. He went to sit down in the chair, making himself comfortable, thighs spread, hands folded at his waist, and then he just... waited.

Catherine smoothed nervous hands over her skirts. She reminded herself that it wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen her naked before. She could still feel where his fingers had been inside her in the parlor. And this was her chance to practice something she may like to use again, when she found a man she wanted in her bed for more than a few days and nights. Unless she had already found him.

Swiftly she pushed that thought away and reached for the fastening of the high-necked collar of her gown. She had chosen it after she found a mark from his mouth on her throat, hoping to hide the evidence from the others. Briskly she began to undo the first button, and then the second.

His chuckle caused her to stop and stare. “You are meant to be seducing me,” he drawled, “not trying to get this part over as quickly as possible.” His heavy-lidded gaze slid over her. “Go slowly. Make me wait. Anticipation will increase the pleasure.”

Oh. Of course. She took a steadying breath. When she reached up again, she took the pins from her hair, slowly and deliberately, allowing her dark locks to tumble down one by one. Then she set the pins down on the washstand and shook out her hair so that it was a dark cloud framing her face. He murmured something she didn’t catch and shifted in his chair. She decided to ignore him and turned her attention to the buttons at her wrists, loosening the sleeves, before she bent over and slipped off her shoes, and put them aside. Just as he had done, she left her stockings. They would be last.

Back to her gown, and she reminded herself that this task was not to be rushed. This time she focussed on each button, and even took a moment to slide her hand into the open bodice, slowly, slowly, enjoying the sensation of her own fingers on her skin. This was something she never did. Undressing was just a means to an end, but now it was the act itself that was important.

She glanced over at him. Sebastian was focussed on her hands with an intensity that surprised her. He followed their movements, and then he shifted a little, opening his legs wider. The bulge between his thighs seemed to grow as she watched. He was aroused and it was her doing. Sebastian had been right, the power was all hers in this situation, and it felt good. Very good.

She finished with the buttons and allowed the top half of her gown to slide down, catching on her elbows. Her chemise still hid her breasts, but the points of her nipples showed through the silken cloth. She touched one of them, rubbing the peak, giving it a little pinch.

He groaned.

Encouraged, she did it again, finding the sensation so enjoyable that she could have continued for longer, except she wanted him to touch her, too. To feel his mouth on hers, on her body. Quickly she shimmied her gown over her hips and stepped out of it. Now there was only her chemise and her stockings, and she had his complete attention.

He murmured, “You’re very good at this.”

Such praise! From a rake no less. It sent butterflies flying in her stomach. Then she lowered her lashes coyly as she slid the straps of the chemise down over one arm and then the other. The tips of her breasts caught on the neckline for a brief moment before she was free, and the garment puddled on the floor at her feet.

He made a sound, a deep note of pleasure and desire. Of sheer want. For a heartbeat she thought he might leap up and ravish her, but that was not their agreement. When she looked again, he was cupping the bulge in his pantaloons as he watched her. The tight cloth stretched over the muscles of his thighs, and his shirt framed his broad shoulders and chest, and she wanted him. Badly.

She hesitated, not sure whether to continue or to go to him. What was the etiquette in these situations? She supposed she could ask him, but why not satisfy her own desires? She was in charge after all.

Catherine took a step toward him, gracefully, aware of her nakedness, the way her hair curled against the bare skin of her back and shoulders and the slight jiggle of her breasts. He seemed to be holding his breath. She was close now, and another step brought her between his spread legs.

He reached out and ran a finger lightly over her hip bone, and into the crease of her thigh. He continued around her body, finally squeezing the globe of her bottom with an appreciative sound. His gaze met hers. “It has been a long time since I felt this... this...” The words drifted off.

Emboldened now, she began to undo the fastenings of his trousers, leaning over him, and with a groan he took the tip of one breast in his mouth, suckling. Then the other. Her legs wobbled at the sensation and she reached for support. In a flash he had lifted her onto his lap, spreading her knees so that they rested either side of his thighs, and she was open to him.

She gasped as once more his finger slid into her damp heat, stroking, using the moisture of her desire to lubricate his busy fingers. She was more aroused than she could ever remember being, pushing back against those questing fingers as they delved again. He watched her face with a hooded, intent look. As if he already knew her body better than she. That attention was too much, too personal, so she closed her eyes and concentrated instead on his touch.

“Ah, you are ready again,” he whispered against her lips. “Will you let me inside you, Catherine, so we can come together?”

Already that tension was rising within her, muscles straining, blood heating, heart pounding. She gasped out a “yes” and was aware of him freeing his cock. He rubbed the tip against her swollen flesh, and she opened her eyes to see him sucking on his fingers.

“You taste like nectar,” he said, to her amazement.

He was easing inside her, and with a thrust of his hips went deep. His mouth covered hers, swallowing her moan, and she found herself eagerly pushing back. Taking as much of him as she could. Sebastian nuzzled at her throat and then took one of her nipples in his mouth, using his tongue, making that now familiar ache build and build.

She rose up on her knees, and when he withdrew this time, his cock rubbed against her sensitive bundle of nerves. It was enough to send her flying again, clinging to him and gasping. He thrust up into her, once, twice, and then he too went rigid, groaning against her shoulder for a long moment before his body went still and relaxed.

She could feel his heart beating against hers as they sprawled together in the chair, unable to move. Catherine wondered if she would ever be able to move again. The wonderful ache in her body. The sensation of his hand, rubbing circles against her bare back. His breath slowing, returning to normal, stirring wisps of her hair. And little kisses to her face, across her cheeks and her nose. So many little kisses, covering her in their sweetness.

Catherine didn’t want to think. She wanted to let her thoughts drift into the darkness outside and fly among the stars, before falling to the snow-covered ground.

He brushed back her hair and sought her gaze. His own was more watchful than she had expected for a man whose body felt completely sated.

“Shall I ask for supper to be brought up here? We can dine alfresco.”

Was that a good idea? People would whisper about them, or be scandalized, well everyone apart from Maggie. But what did it matter, really? She would never see these people again, and even if she did, it would merely be a reminder of this moment.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Let’s do that.”