How I Married a Marquess Page 17

  He paused for just a heartbeat at her confession, undoubtedly knowing what she really meant. But she heard the warm affection in his voice when he murmured softly, “Then it’s a night of firsts for both of us because I’ve never undressed a woman in men’s clothing before.” As if reading her thoughts in her hesitation, he added, “But I undress myself quite often, and I think I can manage it.”

  The last button slid free, and he slipped the waistcoat from her shoulders. He gently lowered her onto her back, then removed her boots and unfastened the breeches, peeling them slowly down her legs and off.

  “It doesn’t bother you,” she whispered as his hands encircled her waist and moved slowly upward beneath her shirt, his thumbs tracing along her ribs toward her breasts, “that I’ve never before…been with a man?”

  He laughed as if she’d said something amusing. The deep sound rumbled through her and blossomed a throbbing heat between her thighs. “It pleases me more than you know,” he murmured as he gently lifted her shirt over her head and cast it away. “There now, completely undressed. As for the rest”—he stretched himself over her and kissed her tenderly—“we’ll figure it out together.”

  She lay naked on the sofa beneath him, warmed by the heat of his body over hers. Cool air wafted over her hot skin, and she shivered at the exhilarating mix of heat and cold, longing and anticipation. Nervousness swelled inside her from not knowing exactly what to expect, but she knew with certainty that this was right. And good. With him.

  Then his hands swept over her to capture her breasts against his palms and circle his thumbs around her puckered nipples, and her mind blanked. Her worry and nervousness vanished beneath his warm caresses, and all she knew was the delicious, aching sensation he sent tumbling through her. She was lost beneath his rough, warm hands massaging her fullness, teasing and pinching at her nipples. In the darkness she had no idea if her eyes were open or closed, nor did she care as long as he kept touching her like this, because everywhere his hands wandered, he set her skin afire.

  “You are perfect, Josephine,” he whispered, his soft words swirling around her and caressing her as heatedly as his hands on her body. “Tonight we’ll find pleasure together. And it will be good.” With a soft sigh, she arched her back against him as his mouth found her nipple, and he murmured hotly against her bare flesh, “So very good.”

  She gasped as he suckled hard at her and dug her fingernails into the muscles of his back, but he didn’t relent in his gentle assault against her and instead took her nipple between his teeth and bit down gently. He was an expert at this, she realized as the delicious sensation of pleasure-pain jolted through her. He knew exactly when to be tender, when to be rough, and how to drive her out of her mind.

  She writhed beneath him, the moist heat of his mouth nearly unbearable as his teeth worried at one nipple while his palm fluttered teasingly against the other. Prickling heat gathered beneath her bare skin, and all the blood in her body pooled between her legs, right at that private spot that now throbbed achingly, burning and begging to be touched as deliciously as he’d touched her before.

  When his mouth moved to her other breast, to start the sweet torture all over again, she whimpered with aching need.

  “I want you, Jo,” he whispered as he laved his tongue against her nipple, as if he understood and shared the ache he created inside her that demanded release. “More than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life.”

  “You…truly?” Her suddenly thick lips struggled to form the words.

  “I’ve wanted you since the moment I caught you staring at me across the ballroom.” His mouth left her breast and planted a trail of kisses down her stomach. “And I have been very patient since then. Very, very patient.”

  That had been Thomas being patient? Goodness. She’d be terrified, then, to know how he behaved when he set his focus on immediate possession.

  The tip of his tongue swirled into her belly button, and she bit back a scream of pleasure. “But I need to know you want me, too.”

  His words enveloped her in the darkness and heated her from her toes to the top of her head. No man had ever said those words to her before, had ever touched her or kissed her the way Thomas did. No one had ever stared at her with such longing and need the way he did, nor made her feel this warm and alive. Thomas did all that to her. And more. He’d filled an emptiness in her life she hadn’t even known existed until he was there and the void was gone, and all she could do was surrender to the overwhelming yearnings and emotions he churned inside her.

  “Tell me.” As he nudged her legs apart with his shoulder, he kissed his way down her body toward the triangle of curls between her legs. “Tell me you need me inside you, filling you, pleasing you…as much as I want to do all that to you.”

  “Yes, I want that.” She took a deep breath, fighting for any control or sanity that hadn’t been robbed from her by his caressing hands or the moist heat of his lips slowly moving toward her own moist heat between her legs. Surely he didn’t mean to kiss her there. “Thomas, I think—”

  He licked her.

  She gasped, the erotic sensation tearing the words from her throat. His hands grasped her hips and kept her pushed down against the cushion, to hold her open wide beneath the onslaught of his mouth against her sex. He slid his tongue along the length of her cleft, swirling against her wet folds and delving deep into the hollow at her aching core. Oh, sweet heavens, she’d never imagined that his mouth could be this pleasurable, or that a kiss could ever be this exquisitely wicked. Her fingernails dug into his bared shoulders, and she moaned into the darkness, her thighs quivering around him.

  “Tell me, Josephine,” he murmured hotly against her, his breath tickling her intimately and sending a delicious tingle pulsing deep into her belly.

  His wicked mouth stole away her breath. In the darkness she heard the soft, wet sounds as his lips sucked gently at her, the most erotic sounds she’d ever heard. She writhed beneath him, and her hands sought out his head as he lay between her thighs, to grasp his hair in her fingers and hold him tightly against her even as she lifted her hips from the sofa to grind herself harder against him.

  “Yes,” she cried, “I want you!”

  “You want me to do what to you?” With one hand on her thigh, he gently pressed her back down onto the sofa and lowered his lips against her. “This?”

  She groaned and rolled back her head. Oh, wicked, wicked man! He was teasing her on purpose, intentionally torturing her as he licked harder against her now, making her breath come in fast pants. She trembled helplessly beneath him.

  “Or this?” The tip of his tongue flicked against the pulsing nub buried in her feminine folds.

  Her hips bucked beneath him. “Thomas!”

  But he only chuckled and continued the delicious torture. Burning her up from the inside out, the aching heat between her legs threatened to consume her. She whimpered and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. She wanted him inside her skin, filling her, dominating her, possessing her.

  “I want—I want…you,” she panted out. “Right there, right where you’re kissing.” A low moan of frustrated arousal escaped her. “Oh, Thomas, please!”

  “Gladly.” He whispered the single word into the darkness and settled himself in the cradle of her spread thighs.

  He rose up on his left forearm to poise himself in the darkness over her while he reached down to gently caress between her legs. His fingers parted her intimate folds, already wet and ready for him, and as he lowered himself, the tip of his erection pressed gently but firmly against her as he held her body open to his. Then he slowly pushed inside.

  As she held her breath, he slipped deeper into her. Her body yielded to his hardness and expanded to accommodate him, and he filled her, so warm and tingling…so good. And she wanted more, craving him even deeper.

  She squirmed beneath him and whined with frustration because he was holding back, keeping his hard body in reserve when she wanted him to keep nothi
ng from her, surrendering all of himself, pouring all his strength and courage into her.

  “Slower now,” he cautioned as he sank another inch inside her, then retreated.

  Frustratingly, maddeningly, each carefully controlled stroke took him only slightly farther and not nearly deep enough to satisfy the craving her body held for his, not nearly deep enough to touch the throbbing desire at her core. “I don’t want to go slowly. I want you, all of you. Now.”

  He shook with restraint as he held himself over her on his forearms. “It will hurt—”

  With a fierce groan of exertion, she thrust her hips up against his, pushing him fully inside her and ripping through the thin barrier of resistance. A gasp tore from her throat at the sharp pinch of pain, her body stiffening around his.

  He grasped her hips to keep her from moving away and held her pressed tightly against him. “Stay still,” he ordered gently. “Just for a moment. Trust me, Jo.”

  Breathing deeply, her eyes closed and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, she did as he told her. The pain ebbed away quickly, replaced by something warm and deep, something…wonderful. He filled her completely now, the delicious heat and strength of him radiating out from her middle and cascading all the way down to the tips of her toes and fingers.

  Then he began to move the way she’d longed for him to do, gently stroking inside her with each rise and plunge of his hips.

  “Dear God, Jo.” His voice shook. “I can’t believe how hot you are…how tight.” He gave a testing swirl of his hips, and in response she shuddered, her body clenching impossibly tighter around his. He groaned. “You feel incredible.” He swirled his hips again, this time withdrawing from her until just the tip of him remained inside her before plunging deep inside. “So delicious.”

  Delicious. She moaned her response, unable to put into words the exquisite pleasure he gave her. How special he made her feel. As if she truly was the woman he wanted most in the world.

  Her fingers dug into the hard muscles of his bare back in an attempt to bring him even closer, and her heart raced. How could being with a man be so breathtaking, so thrilling? Because this man and only this special man made this first intimacy so wonderful. He was her hero who knew her deepest secrets and greatest vulnerabilities, yet who was still so careful with her heart, still so tender with her body as he continued to rock into her.

  Each retreat of his hips brought a whimper of loss to her lips, each return thrust an answering moan. The heat drew deeper and hotter and tighter inside her until it pulled up from the very bottom of her being and gathered into an ever-tightening knot of fire between her thighs. Right where the base of his manhood ground against her as he slipped in and out of her sex.

  “Thomas,” she whimpered, burying her face in his neck. She tasted the salt of his sweat on her lips from equal amounts of restraint and exertion, and the pounding of his pulse was a fierce tattoo beneath her lips.

  Leaning onto one arm, he wiggled his hand between their bellies and down to work his fingers against her aching nub, flicking rapidly against her even as he continued to stroke into her. A spasm gripped her and she gasped, panting hard beneath him. She was running straight for a cliff, helpless to stop and wanting to plunge over the edge, wrapping her arms as tightly around him as possible to take him with her—

  She broke around him and splintered into a thousand pieces in his arms. His name sounded her cry of pleasure in the darkness, and she collapsed beneath him, every inch of her body pulsating with exquisite pleasure.

  He shifted her hips beneath him, hitching himself up higher against her, then groaned as he dropped into her, grinding his pelvis against hers before retreating and doing it again, to satisfy a ferocious need inside him she’d never imagined a man could possess. A need for her. There was no gentleness now, just a driving desperation punctuated by low, throaty groans at each deep thrust.

  Without warning he suddenly pulled out of her and pressed himself tightly against her stomach. As he shuddered against her, a warm, wet tickle spread across her belly, then he collapsed against her, spent and satiated, his forehead resting against her bare shoulder.

  Neither moved. Gradually their shared breaths slowed. His racing heartbeat calmed, and the shaking that had gripped his body when he climaxed slowly ebbed away. Goose bumps still dotted his arms and legs, but those weren’t from the cool air but from the heat they’d created between them, the same fire that had flamed out and consumed her.

  Exhaling a long, trembling sigh, she tightened her hold around him. Her life would be completely different now, and she would never be the same again. Because of him. And she did not regret a moment.

  “You were right,” she whispered into the darkness, finally breaking the spell cocooning them.

  He tenderly touched his lips to her temple. “About what?”

  “That I would know when you’re satisfied.”

  A soft laugh rumbled from his chest, and she tingled as the sound passed into her. His arms were still wound tightly around her as if he was afraid she would leave. But leaving was the last thing she wanted to do. With her body still entangled with his, the delicious weight of him still pressing down upon her, she wanted to stay like this forever.

  “You are so beautiful, Josephine Carlisle,” he murmured.

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “But you can’t see me in the darkness.”

  “I don’t need to. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he whispered against her lips. “And I don’t mean the way you look.”

  Then he kissed her, and the first tear of utter happiness slid down her cheek.

  Chapter Eight

  Thomas traced his finger lazily across Josie’s bare back as she lay next to him on her stomach, the sheet still tangled around her legs on the bed where he’d carried her after they’d had sex on the sofa. Her skin glowed golden in the flickering light of the single candle, all warm and silky smooth, and he couldn’t keep himself from touching her.

  His lips pulled into a satisfied smile. Sweet Lucifer, she was exquisite. If he hadn’t taken her virginity, he’d never have suspected an innocent could be so passionate, so responsive to his touch. But she was all that. And more.

  For the first night since the shooting, he felt completely at ease. His heart didn’t pound with anxiety, and he didn’t taste the familiar metallic tang of fear on his tongue. And for once he didn’t dread the darkness or wish for the dawn. If she was in his arms, he was certain he would even be able to sleep without having nightmares or waking in the darkness, shaking and panicked. Except that the last thing he wanted to do tonight was sleep.

  Her long hair spilled around her slender shoulders, and he tucked a strand of the silky softness behind her ear.

  She smiled lazily over her shoulder at him. “I can’t believe you’re real,” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder, “or that tonight actually happened.”

  “Oh, it happened.” He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, then gave an animal-like growl. “But I can prove it to you again if you’d like.”

  With a soft laugh, she playfully swatted him away.

  “Tell me.” He eased back down beside her and continued to let his fingertips explore her tantalizing body. “At your age, someone as beautiful as you”—and completely unlike any other woman he’d ever known—“how did you manage to keep your innocence so long?”

  Her green eyes sparkled. “You mean, how did I escape the evil clutches of some sinister man bent on seducing me?”

  He chuckled despite the unintended pricking of that teasing barb. He might as well have been that sinister man, what with the way he’d single-mindedly ruined her tonight.

  She shrugged. “You’ve met my brothers.”

  “So I’m the only man foolish enough to pursue you with those three hovering about?”

  “No.” She smiled sweetly. “You were the only one brave enough.”

  His heart thudded. She thought he was brave. His chest tightened, the unexpected com
pliment curling delightfully through him. “But you said there were other gentlemen visitors to Blackwood who attempted to seduce you.” In other words…why me?

  She shyly lowered her gaze until she stared at him through half-lowered lashes, unaware of the desire that innocent look stirred inside him. “They were…different from you.” Her naked shoulder gave a small shrug as she admitted, “I like you.”

  For a moment all he could do was stare into her eyes. Surprised as hell by her soft words. And not knowing exactly how he should feel about her, not when he didn’t know for certain if he could even trust her. Except…

  He lowered his head to kiss her shoulder again, this time letting his lips linger against her skin as he mumbled honestly, “I like you, too.”

  A soft sigh escaped her. “Thomas, what do we—”

  “Brandy?” he offered, interrupting her, then slid off the bed and quickly headed into the darkness of the main room. He knew what she was going to ask, and he didn’t think he could bear it right then. Not a discussion about how they had no chance at a future together, not when his skin still smelled of hers and the taste of her still lingered on his lips. Further, at least two hours stood between them and dawn, and he needed sustenance. Because he didn’t plan on wasting a minute of time with her tonight.

  “It’s in the little cabinet—”

  “I was asking if you wanted any,” he clarified, calling out from the other room as he grabbed the bottle by its neck and two glasses. “I noticed where you kept it the last time I was here.”

  “Is there anything you don’t notice?”

  He could almost hear her rolling her eyes, and his lips twitched with amusement.

  “Very little. Details keep a spy alive,” he commented as he returned to the candlelit bedroom. “Ignore them and you die.”

  Sitting up, she raised the sheet to cover herself. “Is that what happened to you?” she asked solemnly. Her gaze drifted to his waist. “Did you ignore the details?”

  He paused at the edge of the bed, freezing in his steps as she stared at the scar that extended along his side. He’d much rather she’d been staring lower, distracted by his cock instead of the scar. But oh no, not this woman. Her eyes were on the wound. Ugly. Jagged. Deep. Even with the flesh fully healed, the scar showed conspicuously discolored from the rest of his skin. And even now he had to physically fight back the urge to place his hand over it and hide it from her sight.