Chapter Thirty-Three

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

One Night Later

G emma pushed the last bite of lemon pudding around her bowl. She’d eaten so much she thought she might pop, but if lingering over dinner delayed the inevitable, so be it.

The moment supper ended, she would have to go upstairs and change into a night rail…and wait for Grovemont to come to her bedchamber. The mere thought sent gooseflesh scattering along her arms and down her chest.

She didn’t know if she could do it. Spend the night in bed with him, that is. She’d signed the paperwork this morning, and everything had been in order. She’d asked a hundred questions and added a dozen stipulations. But in the end, she had promised to pretend to be Grovemont’s loving and faithful wife for two entire months. She could tell no one, and she had to act at all times as if they were nothing but happy together. In company and alone. Which reminded her. She’d agreed to call him Lucian from now on.

She was so full of nerves she was vibrating. Grovemont— ahem, Lucian —was mad. That’s all there was to it. He’d promised to trade fifty-thousand pounds and a divorce for the chance that he might be able to charm her into agreeing to stay. The man didn’t have a charming hair on his head. Every time he attempted to be charming, the strain in him was obvious. It was ridiculous. But it was also the easiest way to get her divorce. She’d thought about it more all night. He could make things untenable for her if he decided to fight the divorce. But the contract was clear. The moment the two months were up, she would get her money, her divorce, and her freedom.

As for whether she wanted to have a baby, she was torn. Part of her hoped she wouldn’t conceive. At least not with a boy child whom she would have to give away to his father one day. But Gemma couldn’t help but wish for a girl. A girl she would be able to keep forever. The thought made her tear up. But each time she thought it, she shook her head. There were ways to prevent pregnancy. Even ways to end a pregnancy. She’d heard the maids talk about such things upon occasion. Of course, the notion worried her, and if Grovemont found out, there was no telling what he’d do. But it was an option, if worse came to worst.

“More pudding?” Grovemont offered from his side of the table with a bright smile. He’d had nothing but bright smiles for her all day. Apparently, she would have to endure two months of his cheerfulness.

She was tempted to say yes to the additional pudding. But ugh. She was already so full. If she ate one more bite, she might cast up her accounts. “No, thank you.” She stood and spent an inordinate amount of time folding her napkin. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I suppose I should…”

He stood too. “Retire for the evening?” he offered.

Her only response was a curt nod. “I’ll see you…later.” By way of an invitation to bed, it wasn’t particularly encouraging, but what else was she to say? She turned and strode from the dining room.

An hour later, Gemma was pacing next to her bed. With Anna’s help, she’d put on the night rail from her wedding night. And tonight, she was just as filled with nerves as she’d been that night.

Gemma swiped the back of her hand across her brow. She was sweating. And breathing heavily. What if she’d…forgotten how to go about it? They’d only done it once, after all. She didn’t have enough practice to be any good at it. She winced. What if she did it wrong?

And she hadn’t merely agreed to lie there and accept Lucian’s advances. The contract had been clear. She had to be a willing , if not eager, participant. Thankfully, the solicitor had gone over the details of the contract exhibiting a completely stoic demeanor. But Gemma had read every word multiple times. There would be no getting this over with quickly.

Which frankly meant that she might as well enjoy herself. Though that thought made the nerves even worse.

The soft knock at the door between their rooms made Gemma jump. She promptly forced herself to smooth her hands down the front of her lacy night rail and take a deep breath. She counted to five. “Come in,” she called, hoping the worry didn’t sound in her voice. Only the words came out so faint, she wasn’t certain he’d heard them.

When the door opened, her doubts were put to rest. Lucian was there, standing in the candlelight, wearing the linen breeches he apparently always wore to bed. His chest was even more defined now than it had been the last time she’d seen it. All sinewy and covered with muscles. Only now he was also tanned. She swallowed hard.

He slowly made his way over to her. “You’re shaking?” Concern lit his eyes, and he reached out to gently cup her shoulders. “How do you feel?”

“I’m frightened,” she admitted, hating herself for the tremor in her voice, hating herself for showing him her vulnerability. Though she had to admit it felt better to say it aloud.

Lucian pulled her into his arms and hugged her, resting his chin atop her head. “Shh. Don’t be frightened. I promise you I won’t hurt you.”

His warm skin heated hers. “I know that, I just…” She just what ? She didn’t even know how to end that sentence.

He pulled away from her slightly and met her eyes. “Come, sit down,” he offered, taking her hand and leading her to the bed.

They sat side-by-side on the mattress facing each other. His warm hands rubbed up and down her bare arms. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” Gemma watched him with wide eyes and swallowed again. He was being so solicitous. And gentle. Careful with her. It made it difficult to stay angry with him. He didn’t feel any differently about her, she reminded herself. He just wanted her to remain married to him to save face. He couldn’t stand the ton knowing his wife had left him. As soon as the two months were up, he’d go back to being the cold, uncaring man she’d known before. This man, this man who hugged her and rubbed her arms and asked after her feelings, didn’t exist. She had to remember that. She had to remember the truth. His attempts at being charming were improving, and that was dangerous.

“Come, get under the blankets,” Lucian offered.

They both stood. He pulled back the covers and lifted them, and Gemma slid between them. Lying on the bed, she turned on her side to face him and wiggled backward, leaving room for him to join her. He moved to lay beside her, also on his side facing her. The warmth from his body surrounded her. She sucked in her breath and lowered her eyes to his muscled chest.

“Don’t worry,” he breathed, rubbing her left arm that lay atop her side. “I have no intention of pouncing on you. And if you want me to stop, you only have to say so.”

She nodded, but gooseflesh was already spreading all over her body from his touch. The heat radiating from him made her relax. He smelled good, like soap and pine. She closed her eyes. She remembered it, remembered this, the feel of his hands on her, the way her skin reacted to his touch, the way her breathing hitched when his fingers found a sensitive spot. “I’m more worried that I won’t want you to stop,” she whispered.

His firmly molded lips tugged up in a smile. “I hope so,” he said, catching his bottom lip with his teeth.

Gemma closed her eyes. She felt him move closer, knew his face was only inches from hers. His lips finally touched hers, a soft brush at first. Then another. No pressure. No demand. He was asking her if she wanted it. And damn herself to hell, she did. She scooted closer to keep the contact and pressed her lips to his more fully. Sparks of desire shot through her body, centering between her legs. When her hand curled around his neck and her fingers sifted through his hair, his groan echoed through her head.

Oh, yes, she wanted him. Maybe she shouldn’t, but she did.

One strong arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her into contact with his body. She felt him hard and hot against her belly, pressing against her intimately, making her ache. The kiss exploded then. His tongue pushed into her mouth and tangled with hers as his hand moved down to her backside to press her even more tightly against him. She moaned.

“Gemma,” he breathed against her mouth. “I want you.” His voice was deep and rough and intoxicating.

Her answer was to deepen the kiss, to cling to him more tightly.

“Do you want me?” he asked, the slightest hint of vulnerability in his tone.

Tears stung her eyes. His voice sounded slightly…tentative. As if her answer mattered more than he would ever admit. She couldn’t lie.

“Yes,” she admitted, and God help her, she did. She wanted him so badly. She’d wanted this man from the moment she’d first seen him in the study that night at Griffin’s wedding, looking so caught up in his faraway thoughts, a little sad, and a little broken. He was extraordinarily handsome, but that wasn’t the only reason she wanted him. She wanted him because moments like this felt so real. As if they were truly sharing themselves with each other. And she wished it were true. For the moment, for tonight, she would pretend it was real. It was the only way to keep her sanity.

He pushed her gown to her thigh and lifted her bare knee. He pulled it atop his hip, ensuring that the part of her that ached with need came into even tighter contact with his hard length. They both groaned when he moved his hips against her, pressing into her again and again.

The friction in the place she wanted it the most made her whimper into his mouth. “Please,” she begged, wanting even more.

In seconds, he had her gown up over her head and tossed to the floor. Then her hands were tangled in the waistband of his trousers, tugging them down. They, too, were on the floor in moments, and Lucian rolled atop her, pushing her onto her back as his hot, hard body covered her. Her legs spread, and she welcomed his heat between them. Their kiss continued, wet and all-consuming. She clung to his hard shoulders, digging her fingernails into them. She couldn’t get enough of him. “Please, Lucian. Take me.”

Lucian had had every intention of going slowly with Gemma tonight. He wanted to give her pleasure and plenty of it. Unrelenting pleasure she would remember and want more of. But the explosion between them from the moment they’d touched was undeniable, and when she said his name while begging him to take her, he was lost.

He moved his hand down between their bodies to ensure she was ready for him, and the wet heat he felt there left no doubt. Nearly mindless, he pushed into her to the hilt in one swift thrust and then gasped, pressing his forehead to hers hard. He stayed like that, unmoving for several seconds, waiting for her body to have time to adjust. But the ungodly heat and tightness of her made his eyes roll back in his head.

It had been a long time. So long. He hadn’t told her, hadn’t wanted to give her the satisfaction before, but Lucian hadn’t touched another woman the entire time he’d been in India. Partly because he’d been so focused on his work, and partly because he hadn’t been able to bring himself to touch another woman. He may have believed she was a scheming liar, but unlike his father, Lucian was no cheater. Now that he knew the truth about Gemma, he was thankful for his discretion. But it certainly wasn’t helping his performance at the moment that he hadn’t had a woman in over a year. He’d taken himself in hand, of course, but since he’d been home, each time he pleasured himself, it was his wife’s gorgeous face he’d seen hovering in his fantasies. Now, the real woman laid before him, her head thrown back in passion, her body stretched with his cock, would be his undoing.

It was Gemma who began to move. Beneath him she thrust up her hips and Lucian bit his lip in agony. “Gemma, I can’t?—”

“Can’t what?” She had a downright mischievous grin on her full, kiss-swollen lips.

“If you move again, I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” he panted, doing his damnedest to control his breathing, to control himself. It wasn’t easy.

“Ooh.” She licked her bottom lip and thrust up her hips again. “Promise?”

The damn broke then, and Lucian took over. He grabbed both of her hands that were clutched to his hips and pinned them above her head against the mattress as he took control and began thrusting into her. Once. A groan. Twice. Another. Soon his groans were intermingled with her sharp cries of pleasure bouncing off the headboard as he thrust again and again into her his lush body. He was sweating with the exertion it took to keep from coming when all he wanted to do was explode into her hot, wet warmth.

Lucian took a deep shivery breath and moved his hand down between their bodies again. This time he used his finger to touch the spot he knew she needed him to. He drew little unending circles around and around the center of her pleasure while Gemma’s brow furrowed and her head tossed fitfully against the pillow. “Please,” she begged.

Oh, he could watch this all day, Gemma taking her pleasure. She bit her lip and whimpered deep in the back of her throat. He purposely slowed his thrusts so she could concentrate on chasing her orgasm, and moments later, when it overtook her, her entire body shook. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her breath caught in her throat and the delicious tremor that made her shiver spread through Lucian too. He threaded his fingers through hers and pushed the backs of her hands against the mattress on either side of her head as he took up his deep thrusts again. Over and over, he drove into her, letting go and allowing the overwhelming perfection of being buried deep in her tight body consume him until his body shuddered one last time and he spilled his seed deep inside of her with one last rumbling groan.

When his brain finally worked again enough for him to open his eyes, he kissed her ear, the side of her face, and her neck before rolling off of her. But he kept one of her hands in his, holding it tightly, never wanting to let it go.

Sweaty and satisfied and still breathing heavily, Gemma stared unseeing at the ceiling above her bed. Oh, God. She was in trouble. Because that had been good. So good . Life-alteringly good. The man knew precisely what he was doing. She’d just experienced pleasure she didn’t even know she was capable of. If she allowed herself to, she could get used to this. Which was why she could not allow herself to get used to it. Because she still wanted a divorce. No matter how good they were together in bed.