To Ruin a Gentleman Page 7

  Was she a fool for remaining here? Very possibly, but that didn’t weaken her resolve. She could not abandon her friends and family in what might very well be their time of greatest need.

  At dinner, there were only three. The vicomtesse had retired early to unpack and repack, as she would have to leave behind much more than she had originally planned. Daventry and the vicomte had sent a servant to hire coaches and in the morning the three would be on their way with only the essentials. Angelette wished she could go with them. Her gaze met Daventry’s across the table, and she wondered if he would miss her or think of her when he reached the shores of England.

  After everyone said their goodnights, Angelette returned to her chamber alone. She had tarried on the steps, hoping Daventry might say a private word to her, but he had walked up with the vicomte. She supposed she would say adieu in public tomorrow morning. Now, she sat in her chamber in a borrowed night rail and dressing gown and combed out her hair. The streets of Paris were unusually quiet. The calm before the storm or the peace they had been waiting for?

  Someone rapped on her door and, expecting Marie’s maid who had come to attend her the night before, Angelette bid her to enter.

  But it was Daventry who entered. Daventry in the dark, sober clothing the valet had found for him. The clothing didn’t fit him properly, but he still managed to look handsome. His hair was swept back from his face and his cornflower eyes were dark and serious. Angelette’s heart thudded and she suddenly found herself short of breath. This was what she had been hoping for, but now that he was here she didn’t know what to say, what to do.

  It was improper for him to be here, in her chamber, alone with her. But she didn’t ask him to leave. She didn’t want him to leave.

  She took a calming breath. “I suppose you are here to ask me one last time to go to Calais with you.” She ran the brush through her hair again, hoping he didn’t notice how her hand trembled slightly.

  “I’ve given up on that,” he said, closing the door with a final click that made her dart her eyes at him. “You won’t leave, and I respect your decision.”

  Angelette set the brush down. “You do?”

  “I do.” He crossed the room, his movements slow and sinuous, like a wolf stalking its prey. He stopped behind her, placing his hands on the back of the chair she occupied before the dressing table. She met his gaze in the mirror.

  “I even admire your decision. I appreciate loyalty and courage, even if it is foolhardy.”

  Her cheeks colored. “I don’t think I shall take that as a compliment.” But, as always, she felt the dual pull of anger and attraction when in his presence.

  “I mean it as one.” He lifted her hair and ran his fingers through it. Angelette tried not to shiver.

  “I hate leaving you on your own.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to stay.”

  His hand ceased threading its way through her hair.

  “I mean that you must do what you think is right, just as I too must follow my principles.”

  Daventry didn’t speak for a moment. His hand caressed her hair again, causing ripples of sensation to flow from her scalp down to her shoulders, and then to settle in her belly. “Then this is our last night together.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “For now. If all goes well, we may see each other again sooner than either of us think.”

  “I have no doubt of that. You’re a resourceful woman. If anyone can survive the storm coming, you can.”

  “Thank you. I will take that compliment.” She pulled her hair out of his hands and began to plait it. Her hands shook. “If you did not come to try and persuade me to go with you tomorrow, why did you come?”

  He leaned down and took her hands in his, stopping the progress she had made on the braid. Angelette looked up and into his eyes as he began to unbraid her hair. “I think you know. I think you wanted me to come to your chamber almost as much as I wanted to be here.”

  She shook her head.

  “I believe you enjoyed that kiss we shared as much as I did. I don’t think either of us wants to end this without at least one more kiss...and perhaps more than a kiss.”

  “More?” she whispered.

  He gave her a sidelong look. “Do you really want to play games, my angel? If you want me to leave, say the word. But if you want me to stay...”

  Part of her did wish to play games. They would give her time to think, time to talk herself out of what she wanted to do. But she didn’t really want to talk herself out of the promise in his eyes, did she? She might not be foolish enough to believe he loved her, though she did believe he felt something for her. If he didn’t, would he have done all he had for her? She certainly hadn’t made it easy for him. Or perhaps she was making it difficult for herself because she was frightened of allowing herself to feel all she felt for him.

  This was her last chance. After tonight, she would lose him forever.

  “Say you want me to stay,” he murmured.

  “I want you to stay. I want you to take me to bed, Daventry.” She started to rise, but he put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back down, keeping her in place.

  She watched in the mirror as he bent, brushed her hair off her shoulders, and pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. “You may call me Hugh.”

  Angelette took a slow breath as his lips traced her skin, ending just below her ear. “Hugh, then.” Her voice sounded low and husky. “Take me to bed.”

  He chuckled, his breath warm on her skin. “I’ve been wanting to touch you for ages.”

  “You haven’t even known me a sennight.”

  “And every minute I’m not touching you feels like a year.”

  She rolled her eyes, but heat flooded her belly at his words.

  “Mock me if you will, but time has nothing to do with it. I knew the first time I saw you.” His hands on her shoulders massaged gently, kneading away tension she hadn’t known she’d held.

  “Knew what?” she whispered.

  “Knew you were different. Knew that, despite my denials, I would do anything to be with you.” His hands moved gently but skillfully. “The more I think about it, the more I believe we are meant to be together.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe in fate.”

  He slid the dressing gown off her shoulders, his hands still massaging. “I believe enough for both of us. Your skin.” He bent and kissed her bare shoulder. “How is it so soft?”

  “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

  “Then you have secrets? Good. I like surprises.” His fingers took hold of the thin strap of her night rail. “I want to see you.” He tugged the strap down her arm, revealing the swell of her breast. “All day I’ve wanted to rip that fichu you wore off and throw it in the fire.”

  “And there have been several times I wanted to pull your shirt over your head and see what was underneath.”

  He gave her a roguish grin. “That can be arranged. Later.” He tugged the strap down further. “May I?”

  Her nipple was already hard with anticipation. “Please.”

  He reached for the little bow tied at the valley of her breasts. His hands were large and darker in color than her skin as he loosed the ribbon. The neckline immediately dipped, the strap he’d lowered sliding down farther until the material of her bodice caught on her distended peak.

  He followed the fabric down, caressing her skin with the backs of his hands. Her skin puckered in anticipation, but he didn’t free her nipple. Instead, he reached for the other strap and slid it off her shoulder until it too dropped precariously low. She looked at him in the mirror, and his eyes were on her face. And then, as she watched, his gaze dropped to take in her bare shoulders, her exposed chest, and the tingling skin of her breasts. He reached over her shoulder, and she watched as he tugged the night rail down farther, exposing her to him. Her nipples were dark and hard, the skin puckered from cold and from need. She could feel moisture gathering between her legs. If he could make her fe
el like this with only a look, what would happen when he touched her?

  Slowly, he bent behind her and lowered his head, his dark hair falling over her shoulder. He kissed her neck, moving around from one side to the other. Her eyes wanted to close, but she forced them open. She wanted to see his hands on her. He slid them down her upper arms, then in to cup her breasts.

  She inhaled quickly as the heat of his hands on that aching flesh flooded through her. He raised his head, watching her eyes as his hands took her nipples between his thumbs and began to tease them.

  Angelette moaned and arched for him. Her sex throbbed, and she squeezed her thighs together to ease the building need. The more his hands worked her, the more her need grew. She closed her eyes, unable to watch the wanton scene in the mirror. She only wanted to feel. It had been so long since she had felt like this.

  Abruptly, he rose and pulled her up, turning her to face him. He pushed the dressing gown and night rail over her hips until she stood naked before him. His eyes dropped to the floor and his gaze traveled over every inch of her until he reached her face again. “You look even better than I imagined. Your legs.” He sank to his knees, and her own wobbled to see him kneeling there. “It’s criminal to cover them up.” He put a hand on her calf, molding the shape of it, then sliding upward to rub her thighs. “So soft.”

  He bent, and to her shock, he kissed her calf. She’d never been kissed there before, but when he reached around and flicked his tongue over the back of her knee, she swayed with pleasure. Then he tucked his hands between her thighs, opening them slightly and then more so he could kiss her inner thigh. He moved up, his kisses lingering on the delicate skin as her breathing grew more rapid and her legs felt weaker. When his mouth met her curls, she tightened her hands into fists. She knew what he was about. She had heard of this, even experienced it briefly in the marriage bed, but when he licked her, parting her with his tongue, she shook all over.

  His gaze held hers and he licked again, his tongue tasting her and dragging against that sensitive skin. Spirals of pleasure coiled there and she shook her head. “You want me to stop?” he asked.

  “No. I want you to do it again,” she murmured.

  Gently, he pushed her legs farther apart, his tongue exploring until he found the place that made her whole body come alive.

  “Yes, right there,” he said, his breath making her pant even harder. He circled that spot with his tongue, licked and teased, until she was practically mewling like a cat. This—she had not known about this.

  He licked her again, then kissed her mound, moving upward to her belly. Angelette glared at him. “Why did you...stop?”

  “You wanted to see me without my shirt.”

  She blinked, uncomprehending. Then she watched as he removed his coat and allowed it to drop to the floor. Next came his cravat and finally he undid the buttons of his shirt. Her body thrummed, her sex pulsed, her skin was on fire. She wanted him between her legs again, and she wanted him naked when he was kissing her there.

  “Take it off,” she said when he hesitated before pulling the tails from his breeches.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped.

  “Madame, shall I help with your toilette?”

  “No!” she shouted.

  Daventry raised a brow. How did he seem so calm and unaffected? She would have to change that.

  “I mean, no thank you.” She lowered her voice to a polite level. “I do not require any assistance.”

  “Yes, madame.” The footsteps receded.

  “I could use assistance. Help me take this shirt off.”

  He didn’t need any help, but she stepped forward anyway, raising the hem and sliding her bare skin against his as she did so. When they were flush against each other, he lifted his arms and pulled the shirt over his head. Now his breathing had quickened, and when he lowered his hands they closed on her buttocks. The humor had gone out of his eyes, and the intensity she saw there made her own breath quicken.

  He lifted her, carrying her to the bed, holding her sex against his so she could feel his erection straining within the confines of his breeches. She reached for the fall, eager to feel him slide into her, but he stopped her hand with his, instead lowering her to the bed and coming down over her. He raised her hands over her head, catching them by the wrists with one hand. His free hand delved between them, cupping her. “So warm.”

  She felt his finger at her entrance, stroking lightly.

  “Do you want me inside you?”

  “Yes.”

  His finger slid into her, and she clenched around it, bucking when he moved deep inside her.

  “Not yet,” he whispered. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Yes, please.”

  But instead of opening his breeches and thrusting inside her, he nudged her thighs open. “You’re so wet and pink. Do you want me to taste you again?”

  Her gaze locked on his, and her legs relaxed open.

  “You like my tongue on you.” He released her wrist and knelt before her, opening her to his gaze. “Tell me what you like.” He licked and laved.

  “Yes, yes.” Her nipples were so hard they hurt. She massaged them, and when she looked at him again, his eyes were dark as he watched her.

  “Come for me. I have to see you.”

  He licked her again, then circled her small nub over and over until her body bowed and she shook with the pleasure of it. Finally, he pressed his tongue hard to her, and she shattered into blinding shards of white light. His tongue delved inside her and she clenched hard and long until she gasped for breath.

  And still the climax went on. Just when she thought it might end, he slid two fingers inside her, and she convulsed again. “Hugh,” she panted. “Yes.”

  And that was when he opened his breeches and she glimpsed his erection. It was long and hard; her breath caught at the sight. His fingers withdrew, and he rubbed the tip of his member against her entrance.

  When he rose to remove his shoes and step out of his breeches, the head was slick with moisture.

  “May I?” he asked, covering her body with his, his arms taking the brunt of his weight.

  She allowed her legs to fall open, and when he slid into her, it was the sweetest pleasure she had known.

  Eight

  He’d barely entered her when he had to pause and clench his jaw. Her body was so warm, so giving.

  Her breasts heaved. The nipples were dark red, and when he bent to take one in his mouth it was hard and plump. The muscles of her sex clamped on him, and he half wondered if he was about to embarrass himself. He could come inside her without even thrusting. He hadn’t expected her to react so completely to his mouth and hands, and he wasn’t even sure he could bring her to climax again. But he certainly wouldn’t give her more pleasure if he spilled his seed like a randy untried youth.

  Her legs closed, wrapping about his hips and urging him deeper.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t,” she promised. She lifted her hips, and she was so wet he slipped farther inside. His head swam from the pleasure. He had to find his control. She rocked up, causing him to groan at the sensation. Tightening his hands on the bedclothes, he thought of trees and windows and everything benign he could until he had himself under control.

  “Can you take more?” he asked, looking at her face. Her cheeks were still rosy from the pleasure he’d given her. He wanted to watch again as she climaxed, wanted to see the way her eyes darkened and her lips formed a perfect O.

  “There’s more?” she asked.

  He gave her a half-smile, then bent to take her other nipple in his mouth.

  “Yes, more,” she all but begged. He buried himself inside her, feeling her close around him, all heat and promise. He moved, thrusting gently, and she gasped, bowing so he could take more of her breast into his mouth. He sucked harder and thrust again, withdrawing almost to the very tip of his rod and then, when she cried out in protest, he filled h
er again.

  Her hands were in his hair now as he moved within her, keeping his thrusts slow and even, but the way she moved made that difficult. He could hear her breathing increase, could feel her skin heating. He looked down at her and she tilted her lips up, and he took them. The kiss was just as it had been before. The world seemed to stop and there was nothing but the two of them. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, and he followed with a thrust of his cock. She all but purred as he withdrew. Then she swirled her tongue into his mouth and he copied her movement.

  She met each of his thrusts, her breasts grazing his chest, and that was when his control broke. He yanked her up, pulling her onto his thighs so he could bury himself deep inside her. She looked down at him, her dark hair wild and free about her as she held on to his shoulders for balance. He thrust hard and deep this time, and she opened her mouth with a sound that was pure carnal pleasure. He put his hand on her lower back, and she arched, taking more of him. There was nothing but pleasure for him now. Her breasts rose and fell with his thrusts and she moaned and clenched around him.

  Sweat beaded on his brow as he tried to hold back the climax. He could feel the vein in his temple throbbing with the effort, could hear her cries becoming more urgent. And then she clenched around him, and he could hold back no more. The world went black as he came hard and completely. He shouted and she straightened, her eyes glazed and her mouth parted in pleasure.

  Her hips moved as she rode him now, taking every last bit of pleasure she was owed. He pushed her onto the bed, pushed into her, gritted his teeth as he came and came. Finally, with a shuddering breath, he lay sated on top of her.

  Realizing he must be crushing her, he lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her head to turned to the side, and dark curls lay against her cheek. Slowly, her eyes opened and smiled. “That was...unforgettable.”

  He blew out a breath, half laughing. “I don’t know what you did to me, but unforgettable is an understatement.”