Chapter 10

G ordon felt like hell and not from the glasses of mulled wine that he’d drunk. No, actually that had been rather delicious. He simply didn’t know what to think.

He’d sung more carols, laughed, played more cards, danced about the room, and taken part in more parlor games than he had in his entire life. After all, he’d avoided Christmas parties, but now that he’d thrown himself into this one, he’d liked it a great deal. It had been one raucous moment to the next.

The Briarwoods knew how to have fun, and they didn’t need to have the sort of silly fun that others did. No one had gotten three sheets to the wind. No one had over imbibed in anything. No one had showed off jewels, or clothes, or their power.

They had all simply reveled in each other. No one had been cruel. There had been no strange comments. It was a revelation to see a family that loved each other so well.

Though they did seem to tease each other a great deal. That was a bit of a mystery to him.

Now, as he went up to his room, he considered.

Gordon had noticed that Perdita kept giving him little looks. No doubt, she hoped that he would come to her room. Bloody hell, he wanted to join her. He wanted to stalk down the hall, throw open her door, toss her upon the bed, and then worship every inch of her perfect body.

That was a point he was still working through for himself. How far was he willing to go to show her that he was not the man for her? Far. He was willing to go far, but he was balking because there were parts of him that had always ruled him, and it wasn’t his sex.

As he came up to the landing, he turned to the right, determined to go to his own chamber, but just as he was passing along a table styled in the French fashion, he spotted it.

The dratted rabbit.

He was hopping down the hall, ears flopping.

Gordon let out a dry laugh, which caused the rabbit to stop and twitch his ear towards him.

Sometimes the Fates were too on the nose.

Gordon blew out a sigh, tempted to turn and go in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t do it. The rabbit was hers, and Gordon was the only one who had seen him since he had gone missing. So, he strode to the rabbit and picked the little fellow up. He resisted for a moment, kicking his back feet, and then he paused.

Gordon could feel the little heart hammering away and began to stroke his back and whisper to him.

The animal began to calm, sensing that Gordon had no intention of turning him into stew. Gordon followed the beautifully decorated hallway to the family chambers.

He stopped before Perdita’s door, promising himself that he could handle this. He was an adult. He was an adult who was very in control of himself. And so, instead of pausing or allowing his thoughts to spin out of control any further, he lifted a free hand and knocked.

For a moment, he was certain she wasn’t going to answer, and he was actually relieved. He wouldn’t be tempted this night. He wouldn’t have to decide if he was willing to bed the young lady.

Even as his body hungered for her beyond anything he’d ever known.

He took a step back, his honor still intact.

He would take the rabbit to someone else, and they would find a place to keep him until he could be returned to Perdita. But then he heard her footsteps on the other side of the door and the panel swung open, exposing a golden glow from the fire, silhouetting her perfect curves that were hidden by her silk dressing gown.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him. She drew in a quick breath of pleasure and then her eyes dropped to the rabbit. She let out a squeal of happiness. “You found him?”

“Indeed I have,” he stated, overblown by her presence in her dressing gown.

She was naked under that thin silk. He could pull the ties, and his hands could roam over her body. With the fire behind her, he could see every shadowed curve and the place where her thighs met right at her sex.

Half of him longed to back her into the room, drop down to his knees, sweep the dressing gown back, and kiss the slick folds of her core. He shook his head, realizing he was swiftly losing all control.

“What a wonderful thing,” she exclaimed. “I was searching for him in all my free moments today. What a little blighter he is.”

He thrust the rabbit towards her. He could still retreat. He didn’t have to go into her chamber.

“No, no. Come inside,” she urged. “You can put him right into his hutch. In my dressing chamber. The poor thing needs a good rest. Where did you find him?”

He cleared his throat and teased, “He was going through the hallways like a bandit.”

Her brows shot up and she tsked at the rabbit. “It’s a good thing Cook didn’t catch him. I always have to warn the servants to be very careful with animals that they find about the estate and castle. Cook especially! But thank you,” she said with great sincerity.

And at that thank you, his heart swelled.

It wasn’t supposed to swell. It wasn’t supposed to feel anything but disappointment in his fellow man, but it did. Damnation, it did.

She pointed across her beautiful chambers to a door. “He’s very happy in there at night. At least, I think he is. He didn’t try to escape, I assure you. The children took him out and lost him.” She gave a bemused look. “Children are wonderful but really quite a handful.”

He did not know much about children, so he kept silent as he crossed to the door to her dressing chamber. He spotted the large hutch and put the rabbit in and shut the doors.

“You don’t go hopping about anymore,” he warned. “You cause far too much trouble.”

She laughed, leaning against the doorframe behind him. “All the animals cause us humans what we deem trouble because they do what’s natural to them, and it’s not to follow the whims of humans.”

He crossed to her, and they retreated back to her chamber. He couldn’t quite ignore the bed just a few feet away. Or the floor in front of the fire. Or the excellent chaise longue. All excellent places to make love to her.

“Yet,” he said, trying to distract himself, “you keep trying to make them indoor pets.”

She arched a brow. “That’s not entirely true. I just try to make sure that they’re well before I let them out into the world again. And then, of course, the ones that want to stay do so.”

“I see,” he said softly. He looked down at her, closing the gap between them, his loins aching for her. “And which one am I? The kind that you’ll let go out into the wild or the kind that will want to stay?”

She tilted her head back, gazing up at him through her dark lashes. “You already know what I think,” she said. “But wild things do always resist a bit before they yield to a good life.”

He closed the last of the distance between them, drinking in her scent, and pulled her into his arms. He could not stop himself. He wanted to show her that he was a wild thing indeed, even if he knew the truth. He wasn’t wild. He never had been. He was a creature of rules.

He wanted her to see that he would resist just like all wild things should, but he didn’t want to resist. Bloody hell, he didn’t want to. He wanted to give himself into the wonder and the comfort of this family, this castle. And to her.

It was the first time he had felt that way in his entire life. And so he allowed himself to melt into it for a moment. Could he let himself have this? Even if it was for a short time, he would allow himself this, and then he would part from her because he wasn’t her match.

She loved the wild. In truth, she was the wild one. She was a free spirit, and he was a creature of books and offices and trying to fix the world. He would make her miserable and she him. Perhaps they’d be happy for a short time together. But then, eventually, she would be disappointed in him for not being who she needed him to be. She deserved an adventurer, someone who would go out into the world, into the woods, and seize it.

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted to seize the House of Lords, except he’d failed at that. So, perhaps all he wished now was to seize a few rooms in his estate and retire there and never have to face how awful the world was.

He didn’t want to see the hope in her eyes that he might be different fade because he couldn’t be.

But nor could he stop this passion between them that had now been ignited.

So, thinking of the kiss that they exchanged earlier, the kiss that had nearly undone him, he arched her into him, studied her lush, parted lips, ablaze at the sight of her pink tongue, and kissed her again. Then he tilted her head back and looked down into her face, a face that was so beautiful, not because it was arranged in an artful manner or because it had some aesthetic piece that all of society would approve of, but because there was something magical about it, something unusual, something different.

“How?” he asked softly. “How is it possible that you are like this?”

Her own gaze was hooded now, her cheeks pink, and she held onto him for all she was worth. Her voice was a sensual caress as she replied, “We shall never know. Perhaps it runs in the blood. But whatever we all should be? We should be true to ourselves.”

In the blood.

True to ourselves.

He could scarce imagine such a thing.

She was going to be the most wonderful mother, and he thought for a small moment that if he had a child, he would not just have one. He would be like the Briarwoods. He would have a small army, so that none of his children would ever have to be alone.

Not like he had been.

He didn’t know how to explain how terrible it had been to be left alone. He would never do that to a child. He would want them to always know that they had someone when he was gone, to rely on and to share memories with.

Oh, he understood that for many having only one child was what was needed. And perhaps if his parents had not died, he never would have even thought on it. They would have been a merry band, if a small one, his parents and himself. But he’d not gotten to keep that. It had been stolen from him.

And in that same breath, he suddenly realized he was thinking of what a child with Perdita would look like—dark hair, enigmatic eyes, looking as if they had come from a fairy glen—and his heart stuttered again.

Something was working upon him, something in the golden flow of the fire. Was it the spirit of Christmas? Surely not!

It couldn’t be some strange mythical spirit of the light coming to brighten the darkness. He could not be changed so entirely, could he?

Maybe it was true. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe all those thoughts he’d had in the woods about the falcon and the crow were a mistake. Maybe they could be one.

All he could do right now was give in and kiss her.

If he was going to do this, he was going to do it fully. There would be no half measures, no wading in, no tiptoeing. No, he was going to launch himself into her pleasure.

There was no question of if . He had already decided. He had decided the moment he had entered her room.

He swept her into his arms, picking her up. He cradled Perdita easily. She was not a small delicate thing, but he was big and quite strong. She beamed up at him and circled her arms around his neck.

“My goodness,” she said. “You do seem determined—”

“Determined to please you,” he replied.

Perdita’s breath hitched in her throat, and he took her mouth then. He took her mouth in a searing, hot kiss as he walked towards the bed. With her hands about his neck, he was able to kiss her thoroughly, teasing her mouth and the line of her lips with his tongue. Then, eager yet determined to awaken her, he thrust his tongue between her lips.

She began to breathe in starts against him. Her body arched into his and how he loved it. It was the only encouragement he needed to throw all caution aside. He lowered her to the bed then and sat down beside her. He did not end the kiss, but he wound his hands into her hair, tilting her head to the side so that he could kiss her more fully.

The kiss grew like a small flame turned into a raging inferno. They kissed and kissed again, stealing each other’s breaths. Moans filled each other’s mouths. His body felt completely and totally alive, and yet he felt lost to the pleasure of the sensations.

All reasoning went away. All of his logic. All of the rules. He threw them aside.

She pulled back and then reached for his cravat and began unwinding it with surprising skill.

No doubt, it was all the brothers in her life. It was a funny thing to think in that moment, and it certainly put the consideration of murder back into his head. Yes, he could be murdered for this, but perhaps it would be worth it.

Perhaps? There was no perhaps about it. This would most certainly be worth it. He helped her with his cravat, and then he shrugged off his coat. Quickly, she worked at his waistcoat, peeling it back from his shoulders before dropping it to the floor.

She seemed determined to disrobe him, and then she pulled his linen shirt free from his waistband. He assisted her to get it up over his head, for she was not quite in a position to do so with ease.

He sat there shirtless before her. Her eyes widened, and then her pupils dilated, clearly pleased by what she saw. Good. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For her to be pleased?

She sucked in a soft breath and then, much to his amazement, she leaned forward and placed soft kisses upon his clavicle. Without a word of urging, she began to explore him. It was tentative and slightly awkward.

Clearly, she’d never done this before. It mattered not to him if she had or if she had not, but there was something thrilling about the idea that he was to be her first, the one she would explore this world of pleasure with. She made her way from his clavicles over his pectoral muscles, then down his rib cage, and he found himself flexing. A ridiculous thing to do, but he could not stop himself.

He wanted her to see how strong he was.

She let out a little murmur of pleasure, and then she licked her tongue along his rib cage before she glanced up and whispered, “Lay back. I’ve waited my whole life to get to explore you like this.”

“Me?” he clarified, certain he had misheard.

“Oh yes,” she replied, her voice rich with desire. “It was always going to be you.”

He did not know how, but those word undid him, and he knew that he had to do whatever she said. With their first kiss, he’d been giving the commands, but now she was seizing control. How he loved to see her in her power.

She worked at the ties of his breeches, eager and ready for him. They were tight, as the fashion of the day indicated, so he helped her slide them down his legs.

But then she let out a laugh. “Oh dear! I’ve gone about this the wrong way.”

He groaned, realizing she was quite right. His breeches were stuck upon his boots.

Together they worked each Hessian free, tossing them to the floor, and then she grabbed hold of his breeches again and worked them down his legs.

She let out a gasp of pleasure and her cheeks burned pink, not with embarrassment but excitement.

“You are beautiful,” she breathed.

He reached up and twirled a lock of her dark hair about his fingers. “You are the beautiful one.”

She grinned. “We are both very beautiful. Now, wait a moment.”

He frowned. What was she up to?

He didn’t need to wait long to find out. She began to make quick work of her own dressing gown, shimmying out of it like Venus emerging from her bath. And then she pulled the pins from her hair and it fell about her face and shoulders.

He couldn’t breathe or think.

Not with her on the bed beside him, looking down at him, whilst he waited.

She lowered herself beside him and resumed her kissing of his body. Her adventure. “I quite like the taste of you,” she murmured against his skin.

The feel of her lips, her tongue, her breath against him was sheer torture.

And when she traced her lips over his hip bones, his hips shot up from the bed.

She let out a low note of approval. “You do want me.”

“You’ve no bloody idea, Perdita,” he groaned.

“Then show me,” she urged as she let her hand linger above his sex before she dared to touch him.

The feel of her delicate hand wrapped around him was the most exquisite thing he’d ever known.

But this was about her. Not him.

So, he decided to show her as she’d asked.

He rolled her underneath him, plastering her body with his, stretching out atop her, until every single bit of her was covered with him.

She let out a moan of pleasure as he took her mouth again.

He thrust his tongue into her hot mouth, teasing her with the same sort of rhythm he intended to use in a few moments.

And then, mirroring her, he kissed his way down her body, paying homage to her perfect breasts. How he longed to linger there, but no, he was determined to make her so slick…

Except she already was.

When he teased his fingers between her legs, he found she was nearly ready for him. But this was her first time, and he had to be careful.

He locked gazes with her and began to stroke his fingers over her most delicate spot.

The muscles in her throat strained as she swallowed. Her lashes fluttered as he began to coax her to her height. As he drove her higher and higher, her need built.

Her thighs parted and she arched her hips upward. How he loved her wanton, carnal movements. She was not ashamed of her body. She was completely comfortable with it. It was intoxicating.

And just when she was almost there, he moved his fingers, lowered his head, and covered her swollen bud with his mouth. Sucking.

She let out a wild cry, bucked against him, and seized his hair with such strength it stung. But it was worth every bit of pain to hear his name upon her lips as he caused her to ripple with pleasure under his tongue.

As she shuddered against him, he closed his eyes, savoring the taste and feel of her. When she sighed and relaxed ever so slightly, he rose, stroked her hip, then parted her thighs a little farther.

She stared up at him dreamily, and he teased the head of his cock along her slick folds.

She bit down on her lower lip, whimpering because she was, no doubt, quite sensitive after her pleasure.

He rocked against her opening, straining at her tightness. It felt so bloody good, he had to grit his teeth to refrain from thrusting deep.

He worked his way in slowly, her sheath wrapping about him exquisitely.

She panted and wiggled and tried to adjust. Her face was a mask of consternation.

“This is trickier than I expected,” she confessed.

He wanted to laugh but couldn’t. “Yes,” he agreed.

He didn’t want to hurt her. The wild need in him urged him to drive home. Yet that was not acceptable.

So, he held back.

“Why are you denying us?” she asked at last, her hands gripping his biceps.

“Pain,” he replied honestly. “I don’t wish you pain.”

“I am not afraid of a little pain to reach the ultimate pleasure,” she said fiercely.

And the wisdom in those words stunned him for a moment. How many could say the same?

Very few.

She was a marvel, his Perdita.

So, he took her heed and did as she said. He thrust forward deep, to the hilt.

She gasped and clawed his back. He winced and held perfectly still, but then he reached down between them and found her sweet spot, circling it. Lowering his head, he kissed her. And soon she was undulating against him again.

The pain gone, in search of that ultimate pleasure.

It was ultimate. With each rock of his hips, he lost himself to her. She danced that wild dance with him, until they were both lost in the movement, rocking together, working together.

And then they were ricocheting together into bliss wilder than he had ever known. His body pumped against hers, and her core tightened in waves about him as she was lost to pleasure.

He watched her face, determined to recall how he had made her look and feel in this moment. So completely free.

As the last bit of pleasure slipped through him, he tried to catch his breath. But there would be no catching his breath now. Not with Perdita.

He would never catch his breath again. He did not even know if he wanted to.

Gordon pulled her into his arms and covered them with blankets against the cold, feeling more than he had in years. Feeling the darkness disappear a little on this winter night with her as his light.

But after some time, and once he had stilled, his thoughts began to invade the silence of the night. He cursed himself. He cursed himself for a thousand kinds of fools.

“It’s all right,” she said softly, somehow sensing his distress.

He was startled. He’d thought she’d drifted off to sleep. He ached for sleep. For it was in these dark hours that his thoughts often turned on him.

“What is?” he growled before he softened, determined not to hurt her in this moment. Gently, he pulled her towards him, even as his instinct longed to push her away.

“The war within you at present,” she whispered. “You think that you’ve done something terrible, don’t you? I feel as I’ve just reached bliss, but I can feel the fight inside you. You mustn’t worry about it so much. The war within will eventually end. A side will win, and that will be how it is.”

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t worry about me,” she cut in with more power and surety than he’d ever experienced before.

She pressed him onto his back and laid her hand upon his heart. “You can’t control the way I feel. So I ask you, please don’t try.” She pressed her hand into his chest, as if she could touch his heart, and then she stroked her fingertips over his hard muscles. “This is what I wanted. You’ve given me what I wanted. And if we are together until we are old and sitting in our house, watching our children play in the forest with animals, adopting crows and falcons and rabbits and cats and mice, then so be it.” She was silent, her eyes dancing with emotion but no regret. “But if after this Christmas, you still feel like you need to go to the North and lock yourself away, I won’t be able to stop you. Nor will I try. So don’t think of that.”

She leaned forward and kissed his lips briefly. “Think only of this.”

Then Perdita wound her fingers with his, arching her body into his as if they were still one. “Think only of this.”

His stomach twisted, even as some part of him cried out to surrender to her. To ignore all the warnings that this would end ill.

His mind raced first to London, to all his failures, letting so many people down because of the greed in the world. And then to the estate where he had been safe but alone all his childhood.

He did not know how to do what she was asking. His mind was always racing, going other places. But then she lifted her hand to his face and stroked his cheekbone, then tucked a lock of his dark hair back. “You are not anywhere in the world but here. Here with me.”

Their gazes locked and his thoughts stilled, and he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the curve of her palm.

And he was, maybe for the first time in his entire life, simply there.

With her.