Chapter 8

H ow on earth was it possible this woman didn't know what that word meant when it came to relations between a man and a woman? Her husband was the worst sort of bounder if he'd never seen to his wife's pleasure. Perhaps that was why he'd had so many lovers. No one wanted to sleep with him more than once.

"I will, of course, release you if you decide you don't want to have anything to do with me."

He ignored the internal voice that was shouting about how he was lying to her. He would never force her, but that didn't mean he wasn't above seducing her. Especially since she'd been the one to propose a love affair.

There was also the uncomfortable realization that Lucy Mansfield could very well be the one for him. Still, he didn't want to scare her away. He would have to proceed with caution.

He continued his explanation. "But the term release has another meaning when it comes to intimate relations between two people."

He wondered if he would have to spell it out for her, but the flush of color that rose in her cheeks told him she'd figured it out.

"But a woman can't… release with a man."

The sudden image of plunging into Lucy and giving her his seed threatened his composure. As it was, he was barely hanging on to his need to drag her into his arms again. She'd enjoyed their kiss, and he suspected she wouldn't mind a repeat performance, but he was playing a long game and couldn't rush things. If he wasn't careful, he'd lose this opportunity to make her his altogether.

"Pleasure, my temptress. The sudden release of sensation within your body when you've reached the heights of ecstasy."

Her eyes widened. Then she licked her lower lip again, and he wanted to groan with frustration. The fall of his trousers had been uncomfortably tight since he'd kissed her.

He saw the way her throat worked as she swallowed, and an irrational fear gripped him. She was going to change her mind and walk away.

"I… don't think that's possible. I've never found pleasure in the act of… I don't think I'm able to." She let out an embarrassed huff.

"I don't believe that's true. You might not have found release with your husband, but that doesn't mean you can't. Just that your husband was a selfish bastard who thought only of his own pleasure."

She stilled, her gaze lowered to the floor, and he wanted to kick himself. He'd never met Mansfield, but despite the fact he hated what he'd heard about the man, it was possible she still loved him.

"I apologize. I… don't really know what to say, but I shouldn't have spoken ill of the dead."

She wrapped her arms around her waist, and he expected her to turn away. Instead, she lifted her gaze to his. "I hated him. Not at first. When we married, I foolishly thought I was the most fortunate woman in the world. But it didn't take long for him to play me for a fool."

She turned toward the windows, and he wanted to put his fist through a wall. "He was the fool, not you. Any man who had you but failed to treasure you…"

He took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. Their conversation had taken an unpleasant turn. The last thing he needed was for Lucy to be thinking about another man even if he was her deceased husband. No, he wanted her to think only of him.

He moved so he was standing before her again, taking heart from the fact she was still here, talking to him.

"Lucy…"

She shook her head and dropped her arms. His heart plunged.

"Your wager is one-sided," she said. "What do I get if I win?"

He smirked, relief flooding through him. "Why would you want to win and deny yourself the pleasure I can give you?"

She laughed. "How are all men so confident?"

By way of reply, he held out a hand. The offer had been made, and now she would accept. But silence stretched to what felt like an eternity, and he could see the war she now waged within herself. She wanted to accept his wager, but uncertainty had her hesitating.

"Pleasure, Lucy. But just for you."

Her mouth formed a small o of surprise. "What? How is that…?" She shook her head. "Never mind—it's clear I have much to learn."

To his relief, she placed her hand in his.

"We shall start with kisses."

She tilted her head to one side as though giving his words grave consideration. "I suppose I can suffer through that."

Her smile was teasing as she came into his arms and lifted her face to him, and triumph surged within him. The widowed Baroness Mansfield didn't know it yet, but she would soon be his.

He wanted to start with slow, teasing kisses as he'd done before, but Lucy was having none of that. She took the lead, and he was happy to allow it since it meant she would take what she wanted from him.

The soft mewl of pleasure she made as their tongues warred within his mouth had his already painful erection hardening further.

She gripped the back of his head, her fingers curling against his scalp and holding him in place. When she pressed herself more firmly against him, he groaned. Slowly, he traced a path of kisses along her jaw until he finally reached the small shell of her ear.

"May I touch you, Lucy?"

She shivered as he nuzzled the soft skin where her jaw ended. "You're touching me now."

He was indeed, but it wasn't nearly enough. He needed more, especially if he was going to give her the release he'd promised.

Taking her words as assent, he lowered one of his hands to cup her backside and pressed her more firmly into his erection. It took an extraordinary amount of willpower not to rock into her softness, but he'd promised her this was going to be about her. If he started rutting against her now, he risked scaring her away.

Her breath hitched but she didn't protest, and so he cupped a breast with his other hand.

She stiffened immediately, so he kept his touch light.

"I'm afraid," she said.

He wanted to curse but instead lifted his head to meet her gaze. "The moment you ask me to stop, I will."

She stared at him intently, as though trying to decide if she believed him.

"Do you trust me?" That was the crux of the matter after all. If she didn't trust him, if she couldn't relax with him, he wouldn't force the matter. He'd just have to take more time to coax her.

"I probably shouldn't, but… I do."

He closed his eyes briefly, relief sweeping through him. He couldn't deny that he was awed by her bravery. She clearly thought she was being a fool, but he vowed to prove himself worthy of her trust.

"I need to touch you to bring you pleasure. Intimately. Do you wish me to continue?"

She pressed her face into his shoulder, and he waited. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she nodded. "Yes." Her voice was muffled against the fabric of his tailcoat.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he stroked the breast he still held, his thumb lightly brushing against the underside. He half expected her to stiffen against him again, but instead, she let out a soft sigh and pressed her mouth against his jaw above the edge of his cravat.

Desire rocked through him when her tongue darted out to sweep against the skin there. By way of reply, he brushed his thumb against her nipple, circling it with the lightest of touches.

Her breath hitched, and that was all the encouragement he needed to continue.

He kept his touch light, soft caresses of both her breasts now. She might not have found release in her husband's bed, but it was clear her body yearned for it.

She was rocking against his cock now, and he returned the motion. Her soft, breathy murmur of assent had him continuing his assault. One hand remained at her breast while the other trailed ever so slowly down to her waist, then her hip. He was kissing her again, rewarded by her fervent response, when he began to inch up the fabric of her dress.

He drew back and allowed a fraction of space between their mouths. "I'm going to touch you between your legs, but only with my hand. Do you still want me to continue?"

She drew back, and her brow was furrowed again as she weighed the request. "Only your hands?"

"Yes."

"Can you kiss me while you do it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'd kiss you forever if you'd allow me the privilege."

Her laugh was short, shaky, and it was clear she'd surprised herself that she could find anything about this situation amusing.

"You haven't won your wager yet, my lord."

His breath mingled with hers as he spoke against her plush lips. "No, but I will."

There was no soft exploration now. He couldn't take her body, but he could have her kisses, and so he plundered her mouth, his desire reaching a fever pitch as they drowned in each other. She was grasping his shoulders now, and he braced her against him with one hand low on her back as he trailed a path up her inner thigh.

When he reached her folds, she was wet for him.

Her breath stuttered as he stroked her there, just above her opening, where she was most sensitive. He continued his assault on her senses, and when her breath hitched again, he plunged one finger inside her. His thumb continued stroking that small bundle of nerves.

It didn't take long before she wrenched her mouth from his, her lips falling open with a soft cry as her entire body stiffened. He could feel the pulses of her release against the finger that was still inside her, and he wanted to shout out a cry of victory.

All too soon it was over. He allowed the fabric of her dress to fall again, and he took her mouth in another long, lingering kiss before allowing her to rest her head against his shoulder. He held her like that for some time.

"I didn't know." Her voice was soft against his body; then she tilted her head back. "I didn't know that was possible. And you didn't even…" She reached down to cover his erection with one hand, and he almost spilled in his trousers.

He grasped her wrist to stop her from bringing him to an embarrassing finish and brought her hand to his mouth. "Today was all about you."

Lucy's entire world had just turned upside down.

Now she understood why her married friends were so happy. Clearly their husbands shared the same intimate knowledge that Holbrook possessed.

Which left her wondering if Mansfield hadn't known how to please a woman or if he just hadn't cared about seeing to her needs. Given his general selfishness, she suspected it was the latter.

Holbrook took his leave after dropping a soft kiss on her lips and promising to call again. She watched him go without a word and then made her way to the armchair he'd recently occupied. A befuddled haze had settled over her senses, and she wasn't sure what she wanted to do about it.

Now she knew exactly what lay behind the many different ways her brother and her friends showed their love for their spouses. The casual touch of hands, a warm smile that seemed to convey things Lucy hadn't understood. The way they stood a little too close to one another, their lingering gazes and whispered conversations.

It seemed every one of them possessed the knowledge that marital relations didn't have to be one-sided. That women could have just as much pleasure from the marriage bed as their husbands.

Lucy drank the rest of her tea and then poured another cup. At least her hands weren't shaking. But given the lassitude that had settled over her body after Holbrook had brought her to release, she was surprised she didn't drop the teacup.

When she finished the second cup, she placed it carefully on the table before settling back into the armchair with a contented sigh. She knew she'd play every moment of her encounter with Holbrook over and over in her mind tonight. But first she needed to do something she found even more difficult than approaching a man she barely knew and proposing an affair.

She needed to break the cardinal rule that had been in place since the moment her closest friend had fallen in love with her brother. She had to question Charlotte about her love life because it was now very clear to Lucy that her knowledge in that area was woefully inadequate.