A Night of Secrets (39 page)

Meg wiggled, whimpering under his touch. Grayson slowly pulled her shift upward, over her head, leaving her naked and panting underneath him. His touch was too much, her body ripe with need. Before she realized his intentions, his mouth was on her stomach, kissing a warm, soft trail down her body. Meg resisted the urge to push him away as his mouth moved lower, hovering just above the curls that covered her maidenhood.

“Open your legs for me, Meg,” his voice hoarse. “I will taste you.”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

Meg tried to cover herself, but he pushed her hands away, and tugged her thighs apart. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Meg squeezed her eyes shut and prayed it was a dream. Surely men and woman didn’t mate this way. Then his warm mouth pressed to her inner thigh and the dream shattered into reality. Further up he moved, closer to her femininity.

Meg moaned, tossing her head back. “Grayson, please!” she cried out, although she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted. Nothing made sense any longer but Grayson. Grayson, the man who made her lose complete control.

His fingers wrapped around her thighs, holding her captive. Meg thought she’d die from wanting. His warm breath tickled her folds right before he lowered his head to that very spot that pulsed with a need. Her hands tightened in the sheets as she bit her lower lip. His tongue darted out slipping between the aching folds and she cried out, the shock of his mouth on her too much.

He licked and teased her very womanhood, his velvet tongue rubbing in a way that sent shivers coursing through her body. Dear God, she didn’t know this was supposed to be done, but she didn’t care if it was wrong. His mouth felt too bloody right.

But the ache deep within only intensified, a burning desire that twisted her womb. Meg moaned, pressing the side of her face into the pillow. And just when she thought she’d die from need, he pulled away. Slowly, he moved up her body again, pressing kisses to her stomach until her muscles quivered. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

“I love you,” she whispered. Vaguely, she was aware of what she said. Vaguely she was aware of the way he stiffened at her words. But she didn’t care, nothing mattered but easing the ache in her body. There would be plenty enough time later for regrets.

“Please Grayson,” she whispered, as he hovered over her.

As if breaking from a trance, his mouth covered her breast. Meg’s fingers slipped into his hair, pulling him closer. How she wanted him like she’d wanted no other. He lifted away and rested his forehead to hers. His chest crushed her breasts, the crisp hair rubbing erotically against her nipples. His breath was warm and harsh against her lips. Meg’s lashes fluttered up. For one long moment, they merely stared into each other’s eyes, their breaths mingling as one. She could feel his arousal pulsing hard against his trousers, pressing hard against her lower belly.

“How wonderfully you taste,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to her mouth.

Before she could properly kiss him back, he pulled away, standing beside the bed. She didn’t miss the way his hands trembled as he pulled the trousers from his muscled legs. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Would the feelings ever dull?

Within a blink of an eye, he was atop her again. Meg sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by his speed. His warm weight settled atop hers and his mouth claimed her lips in a bruising kiss. Meg wrapped her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his, needing to be as close to him as possible. Grayson shifted and his cock brushed against the curls at the junction of her thighs.

She was more than ready for him, her body aching with a need that demanded attention. Her fingers skimmed down his back, like an artist, taking in the curves of his muscles, down to his buttocks. She cupped him there and in a state of complete wantonness, she pulled him up against her.

His arousal pulsed hard and hot against her folds. “Please, Grayson, I want you. All of you.”

The muscle in the side of his jaw clenched, his eyes glowing with desire. She swallowed hard and pressed her lips to his neck, smiling when she heard him suck in a breath. He made her feel amazing and powerful. Around her, his scent hovered, spicy sandalwood and male. She couldn’t help herself, her tongue darted out and she tasted him. Salty and warm. She felt a shiver raced through his body.

“I need you, Meg.”

“Then take me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “Drink from me, Grayson.”

He cupped the sides of her face, his glowing gaze intense, piercing. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please.”

He leaned down and took her bottom lips between his teeth, drawing it forward before slipping his tongue into her mouth. The kiss was beautiful, but not enough. She wanted him inside of her. Like hard satin, the tip of his arousal pressed into her, tempting, taunting. Wet and hot, she was more than ready for him.

“
Merde,
I need you Meg.”

“Then take me,” she whispered.

He lifted his hips and thrust into her tight sheath. Meg cried out and arched her back, bringing him further, completely inside of her. Then he began to move, slowly at first, drawing out and back in, entering deeper each time and driving her to the brink of madness. Frustrated, Meg lifted her hips, rocking against him, urging him forward.

“Look at me, Meg.”

Her lashes fluttered up and she peered into his glowing green eyes. “You are mine,” he said, his voice harsh and unrelenting.

She cupped the sides of his face. “And you are mine.”

With his gaze on her, he lifted his wrist to his mouth. His lips lifted, those sharp teeth gleaming wickedly. With a hiss, he scraped his arm across his teeth. A thin trail of red blood seeped from the cut.

“Drink,” he demanded. “I will not lose you, Meg.”

She blink, startled by his demand. Her heart hammered madly. She knew once she tasted him, there was no returning to what her life had been. But his hard gaze left no room for argument. He lowered his wrist to her mouth. She wanted him for as long as she could have him. Meg gripped his arm, closed her eyes and pressed his wound to her mouth. His blood was sweet and warm as it swept over her tongue. Just a taste of who he was.

Grayson growled, pulling his arm away and crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue thrusting between her lips in a devastating kiss. She swore she could feel that little bit of blood sweep through her body, warming her veins. Meg arched against him, the pleasure only intensified, a spiraling desire that swirled deep within her core. With a groan, Grayson tore his mouth from her and surged into her, stroking her again and again. Meg’s womb tightened. The aching need flared, pulsing and quivering through her body.

“Grayson,” she cried out.

“Trust me, love,” he whispered as he leaned down, his warm breath across her neck. The sharp point of his teeth scraped her neck and pleasure mixed with pain.

“Grayson, please, now!”

Meg felt his warm lips and then the sharp sting of his teeth as they pierced his flesh. She practically felt her blood surged into him, felt her soul enter his body. Euphoria washed over her.

Meg’s body quivered before exploding and pulsing into a burst of brilliant, white light. And she was floating, spinning through a star-filled sky. She was barely aware when Grayson threw his head back, arching deep within her as he found his own release.

Chapter 21

Meg stood before the full-length mirror, her gaze riveted. The reflection staring back couldn’t possibly be her. She felt odd, as if she didn’t quite know herself.

Her dark hair was piled atop her head, soft curls framing her face and falling down around her right shoulder. The sinful red dress nipped in her waist and flared out toward the floor. It certainly brought out the flush in her cheeks, which wasn’t good at all. She should have been pale, as most titled women were, but how could she not flush with heat when she thought of Grayson? And she always thought of Grayson.

Yes, in her gaze was the unmistakable glow of a woman satisfied. She stepped closer and lowered the pearl choker. The tiny bruises were barely noticeable, but the memory they brought forth sent chills, hot and cold, racing through her body.

She took her lower lip between her teeth, the pink blush turning red. Just bloody wonderful. Merely thinking about Grayson, about the nights spent in his arms, brought a heady ache to her body. Three wonderful days they’d been together and although she now knew every inch of his form, she still knew so little about the man and his abilities. It seemed that every time she questioned him about his past, about his parents, he’d start kissing her and she’d forget her train of thought.

She hadn’t told him she loved him since their wedding night. Nor had she drank his blood. But she didn’t need to repeat her actions. Grayson knew she loved him, he had heard her. She would wait for however long it took for him to repeat the words. As for his blood, even now she swore she could feel it pulsing through her, making her stronger, happier. Or was that her feelings for the man?

“You look beautiful,” Hanna whispered from her spot on the bed. She was sitting on her knees, her eyes wide, as if not to miss a thing. She’d only seen Meg in rags, of course she’d think highly of her now. But what would the other women believe? Would they feign niceties then gossip about her behind her back?

“Someday, perhaps a man will hold a ball in my honor.”

Meg wanted to smile over the child’s naiveté. Grayson wasn’t holding the ball because he was proud of his fine catch, he was holding the ball to introduce her and to show the world he stood by her side.

“I can’t move,” Meg replied, wiggling her hips, but the movement only made the corset dig painfully into her lungs. “You can’t loosen the strings?”

“Sorry, my lady,” the maid said from behind her. “If you want the dress to fit, the stays must be tightened.”

The servant’s in the house were so silent that at times Meg would look up from a book, find one cleaning and wonder how long she had been there.

“Well then, should have ordered the dress in a larger size,” Meg grumbled. Really, who had decided a twenty inch waist was all the vogue? She’d never had to worry about her size before. Just another difference between being Meg James and Meg Bellamont. She’d be bloody grateful when the ball was over and they could began their life together.

“Well then.” She turned around to find the maid staring at the floor, tears trembling on her lashes. Meg resisted the urge to groan. It was difficult, the power she suddenly wielded, a woman who could cut down a new servant with a comment that was anything less than cheerful.

She rested her hand on the girl’s arm. “I’m sorry Anna, I didn’t mean to reprimand you.”

A smile quivered on her lips and she dropped into a curtsy. “Tis all right, my lady.”

“My lady,” Meg repeated, her gaze focusing on the far wall. “That sounds incredibly bizarre.”

“My lady?” The maid’s dark brows drew together, most likely worried she’d upset Meg once again.

Meg sighed. “Nothing, Anna. You may go.”

The maid curtsied again and then scurried from the room. Was she running to tell the rest of the staff what a dragon the new Mrs. Bellamont was? How would she ever get used to people waiting on her hand and foot? She felt oddly guilty about the entire situation.

“I wish I could go,” Hanna said and rested her chin in her hands.

“I know, Poppet.” Meg leaned down as much as her corset would allow and pressed a quick kiss to the child’s forehead.

Was it her imagination or did Hanna feel oddly cold? “Only a few more years and you’ll be old enough.” Frowning, she pressed her hand to the child’s forehead. Yes, definitely chilled. Tonight, after the ball, she would tell Grayson her suspicions about Hanna. The thought frightened and relieved her. She prayed Grayson would be able to help her with the child, answer questions she didn’t understand.

“Much more than a few years,” Hanna mumbled and sat up, dangling her feet off the bed. She swung her legs back and forth, releasing a sigh every few seconds.

“Catherine and Anna will be staying with you and have promised to read stories and play games. You will be all right, won’t you?”

“Yes. I suppose.”

Meg fought her grin. “And Grayson has promised to take you riding tomorrow.”

“Truly?” Hanna’s gaze jumped to her and she clasped her hands tightly together. Always fearless, she and Grayson got on well and Hanna was most likely already dreaming of racing across the fields.

“As long as its overcast.” Meg tried to sit, but the corset would allow no such movement. She gasped and leaned back against the bed post. “I’ll probably faint right in the middle of a waltz.”

Hanna giggled.

“They’ll have to drag me upstairs by my massive coiffure.”

Hanna laughed louder.

“It’s not funny,” Meg said, lifting her chin in an exaggerated height. “I can’t breathe. And won’t the town folk enjoy it if I faint and make a fool of myself.”

Hanna frowned. “Oh blast, they’ll be there?”

“Hanna! Watch your language, please.”