An Improper Seduction (17 page)

“Excellent. Round up my gardeners and have them come to the library. I want them all, Graham. And have them be quick about it.” He strode down the hall as Graham gave another brief bow and murmured, “Yes, my lord.”

Once settled in the chair behind his desk, Geoffrey slashed the envelope with the sterling letter opener. His eyes perused the page as he felt his brow furrow. It seemed The Fates had returned to dally with his destiny.

His hand was to be forced once again.

And, he did not like it at all.

The knock at the door and Graham’s voice had him setting the missive aside.

“Enter.”

In moments, three men of varying ages and physical soundness stood before him. The Nash men had been keepers of the Colburn grounds for well over one hundred years.

William had been old when he was a lad. Or so Geoffrey had thought when the gardener had married the current housekeeper. With a full shock of white hair, his stooped back belied the tanned and weathered face, the eyes that still held a twinkle.

His son, Liam, was taller, if only because he was straighter. Brown hair was turning grey at the temples, his face a replica of his father’s right down to the lively brown eyes. He had wed a milkmaid from another estate and lived in one of the tenant houses. She must keep the cows contented for the household never ran out of the white liquid, nor butter, nor cream.

He schooled his thoughts.

The grandson, called Billy, could not yet be a full score of years. His tanned face had not a wrinkle on it, even around the blue eyes that must have come from his mother. He was taller than either his father or grandfather, his manner more cautious as well.

It was William who spoke, “My lord, you have need of us?”

“Gentlemen, I have a project for you. I have explicit instructions and I wish it finished before ten o’clock this evening. Now, listen closely, here’s my plan . . .”

Chapter 20

Angeline hurried to the cottage with starlight and a pale moon lighting her way. As she emerged from the copse surrounding the small building her sight was filled with the glow of dozens of candles burning brightly as they sat upon the ground. She walked toward them as she looked up to find the focus of their attention.

His strong back was straight, his buttocks tight as he sat on a swing!

Not there prior nights, the board hung from a huge branch of a large oak that had sheltered the edge of the pond for centuries. Geoffrey swayed gently, his arms wrapped round the ropes by which it hung.

A gasp fell from her lips.

His body shifted, his face turning toward her. “Good evening, my angel. I have been waiting impatiently. Come here and be careful of the flames with your gown.”

Angeline gingerly walked round the candles barely taking her eyes from her lover. He shifted on the swing as she moved to stand before him.

“Take off your gown, Angeline,” he said in a deep, gruff voice that turned her insides to jelly.

By the light of the candles, stars and pale moon, she undid the buttons up the front of her dress then slowly shifted it off her shoulders. The soft fabric slid down her skin teasing every nerve as Geoffrey’s eyes watched her actions.

She felt her nipples tighten from the cool air; watched his sex harden as he watched her actions.

“Come.” His hands lifted toward her. She placed her hands in his feeling the warm calluses and strength as she stepped between his thighs.

Geoffrey rested his head against her midriff and let go a low moan. “You are magnificent, Angeline. I fear I shall never tire of watching you disrobe.”

Moving her hands to his shoulders, he placed his on her derrière and massaged. Her heart thudded in her chest, she closed her eyes and savored his attentions.

“Kneel, my angel. Place one knee on each side of my hips. The swing is padded. You should not bruise.” His hands slid down her thighs guiding her into position then moved to her hips to bring her closer.

She could feel him, his sex hard against her soft woman’s entry, but he had not yet taken her.

His lips, next to her ear, whispered, “I could hardly wait for you to come. Your swing inspired me so I had my gardeners build one for us this afternoon. How do you like it?” She purred from the sound of his voice and the feel of his manhood moving against her as he positioned her hips over him in a firm but gentle grasp. “It is wider than yours so we both can fit. And, you can feel the padding so we do not bruise. The rope is strong and the tree has held its place for two centuries at least.

“All for you, my angel. What do you think?”

She felt her breasts against the rough hairs of his chest. Felt the two of them breathing heavily, in unison. “It is quite delightful, my lord.” She said, in a whispered voice not much like her own. “I will never look at a swing quite the same way again.”

“I should hope not . . .” he pulled her down on his sex. She gasped again as she felt the hard heat of him enter her. Shifting her knees slightly, she impaled herself completely, rewarded by his groan as he hit home.

“Wrap your arms round me, Angeline. Hold on tight.”

As she did what he bid, she felt the swing lurch, his muscled thighs straighten out beneath her.

He was pumping. The action and her own weight pulled her down on him, pushed him deeper inside her.

She clung to him, her mind lost in the pleasure of it all.

They reached the apex of the arc, she clung tightly as his legs pulled back and he dropped back, his sex receding slightly from her sheath.

At the zenith of the backward motion, Geoffrey extended his legs forward again pushing up and into her.

He was holding on to the ropes, keeping them both tethered to the swing but his lips were next to her neck and ears and he plied both with gentle wet kisses and whispers. “You are so wet for me, my lady. So tight. So right. I want all of you, my Angeline.”

The swinging continued back and forward, Geoffrey pumping into her, pushing her toward ecstasy. She held on tightly, dug her nails into his back as she gasped for air. Heard his heavy breathing as well.

Higher and higher they flew. The rush in her head was wild and wonderful. They couldn’t possibly fly any higher. The ropes would not let them. She could not bear the joy of it much longer.

And she did not.

At the peak of the next swing forward, his hard thighs stretching long, his sex deep inside her, her body released. She felt her whole body contract round him, clung for dear life to him, gasped for breath as his groan filled her ear, his own climax filled her body.

Her lips found his. They kissed fervently, tongues tangling in their passion, their bodies still convulsing with intensity.

When she finally broke the kiss, they both gasped for air but Geoffrey hung onto the ropes and continued to swing, pumping them high into the boughs of the oak, out over the lake and its dark waters.

“Hold on tight, Angeline. Do not let go, whatever you do. Let us fly even higher still.”

The swing arced back then forward. As it reached its peak once again, Geoffrey released the ropes then wrapped strong arms around her. They flew higher still as they completed the swing’s arc then gravity took them.

“Catch a breath,
now
!” Geoffrey said into her ear.

She drew in a huge breath as she started to feel herself falling. She tightened her arms round his back and her legs round his hips. They were going into the lake and there was no stopping it.

She fell. And fell.

The two of them made a huge splash when the cold waters enveloped them. After the heat of their lovemaking, the chill of the water nearly took her breath.

Down under the darkness she went, Geoffrey holding her tightly. The momentum slowed as they went deeper. At the bottom, he took her mouth again as he pushed off toward the surface.

Their lips were still locked, their tongues still entwined as they broke into the night air.

When he released the kiss, she inhaled a deep breath. “Geoffrey, you must be mad. You could have killed us both.” She could feel his strong legs kicking, keeping them afloat.

“Nonsense, the lake is deep enough here. As a child, Ronald and I swung into this lake a thousand times. Do you not remember the rope hung from the oak?”

“No, I came to the cottage rarely to visit Ronald. My mother would take me to the manor house only. And, I would suspect you were shorter and lighter then than now.”

“This would be true but we never touched the bottom then and our weight, yours and mine, swung us out farther than we ever went as lads.” He laid back and kicked toward shore.

Her wet back out in the night air, she could feel the goose pimples rise on her skin. “Now I am cold, my hair is wet and I must look a sight.”

“The cottage is warm. I started the fire myself. There are towels to dry your hair and I think you look beautiful, wild and freshly fucked.”

“Geoffrey, how can you say such a thing?”

His feet touching the bottom, he stood up to carry her to the cottage. Once inside he kicked the door closed then set her on the rug before the fireplace.

His hands moved up to cup her face, his eyes focused on hers in the light of the blaze.

“You do look beautiful. And you are freshly fucked. I know, because I did it myself.” Then his mouth was on hers once again. It was an urgent, boundless kiss made all the more exciting because the length of his naked body stretched against the length of hers. She slid her arms up round his neck, melted into his heat, gloried in the passion his mouth incited within her. When he broke away from her, her knees were weak from the interlude.

“We best get you dried off, especially your hair. Then we can pick up where we left off.” Picking up a towel from the table, he wrapped it round her body then tucked the end between her breasts. He gave her a leer and chuckled as he did so. Then he grabbed another towel, turned her back to the fire as he wrapped her hair and started rubbing it briskly.

“Geoffrey, you’ll make a snarl of it.”

“Then I shall comb it out. I brought a brush right here. Come sit on my lap in the wing chair and let me comb through this mane of yours.”

Her hand now in his, she followed him to the chair and sat in his lap. She wiggled her backside to get comfortable.

“Stop that now,” he said gruffly, “or this job won’t get done at all.”

She smiled at him with a knowing look, wiggled one more time feeling his sex harden against her then turned her back so he could get at her waist-long tresses.

Geoffrey cleared his throat while he started to brush. “I could get lost in your hair, Angeline. The color is like burnished copper. It’s soft as silk and feels wonderful against my skin.” He pulled the brush gently through it. When he reached a knot, he took the time to brush in small, short strokes until it became untangled then pulled the brush through the length of it again.

Angeline was growing drowsy from the heat of the blaze and Geoffrey’s patient attentions. She leaned back against him.

“Let me put you in bed for now, my angel. You will be falling from my lap in a moment.” He picked her up letting the towels fall away, carried her to the bed and placed her on the fresh bedding. She could smell the scent of fresh air on the linens as she slid her feet beneath the top sheet. When he crawled in next to her she snuggled up against the warm wall of his chest, nuzzled the fur there and fell asleep.

Geoffrey pulled Angeline close to him. Her breathing even in her dreams, he stroked the smooth skin of her back from nape to tail. Silk, her skin always felt like silk.

He drew her closer still reveling in the feel of her and the nearness of her presence.

He’d have to ask her again before this night was through. He knew her answer would not change, though why she was being so stubborn he could not discern. But he would have to give her one last chance before he made other plans.

He pushed a few stray tresses away from her face.

Certainly she was no girl just out from beneath her books, but she was a beauty. Her complexion was pale as she never shunned a bonnet when tending her gardens. The light sprinkle of freckles were only visible when one was very near to her.

He had thought of teasing her about them many times. It must have been the flash of those pale green eyes that had caused him to refrain.

She slept peacefully now in his arms. And well she should after the disturbing events of the afternoon and the sexual excitement he shared with her this evening.

His fingers trailed over her cheek as he felt himself harden. His sex, nestled between their stomachs, never seemed to be sated where she was concerned.

With every other woman he had worn off the glow by this time. The relationship would turn into sex for personal gratification but insatiable need had never been a part of it.

Not with Angeline. It mattered not how many times they made love. After only a brief period of rest his body yearned for more of her.

And she would readily accommodate him. That was probably a small miracle. Considering her total lack of experience, she had taken to the lovemaking game as a seasoned courtesan would. Willing, eager even, and not afraid to try new things on her own.

She was priceless.

Angeline groaned softly as she rolled in his arms. Moments later his sex was against her derrière, the same one that had enticed him all those weeks ago in a field of wildflowers.

He ached to take her yet again.

Cautiously he slid her hair away from the back of her neck. She was warm there and her woman’s scent wakened his need further.

With gentle kisses he proceeded to see if he could rouse her. His tongue teased the skin over her pulse point then caressed the shell of her ear.

“Mmmmm. Geoffrey, you give me no rest.”

He rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger as he cupped her breast. “Even sleeping you raise desire in me, Angeline. Wake and let me love you again.”

“Do you not ever wear out? Don’t you sleep?”

“It seems I cannot when you are in my arms.” His hand moved its attentions to her other breast. She groaned softly then wiggled her backside against him.

“You tease me, my angel. Surely you can tell I am already hard enough to take you. But then, you may not be ready.” He trailed his fingertips down to her mons, stroked the muff there, then slid between her nether lips.

“I should never doubt. You are wet for me already.” He shifted her body then pulled her legs up. In moments he slid into her slick sheath. He could not stifle his groan of pleasure. “There I am. Deep inside you again. How quickly would you like to meet ecstasy again, Angeline?” His fingertips stroked her belly, her breasts.

“I am much too exhausted to take the trip, Geoffrey. Do as you wish. I think I need more rest.”

“Hardly,” he whispered into her ear. His tongue caressed it again; his fingers moved between her thighs. He rubbed the pearl he found there, gratified by the tremor that roiled through her body. “I think sleep must wait. You must not be as tired as you would have me believe.”

His hips pushed into her rhythmically from behind as his fingers massaged her clitoris. Soon gasps came from her lips as she wiggled and stretched in his arms.

“Geoffrey, you are too much.” Her head turned far enough to look up at him so he took her mouth plundering the sweet insides, savoring the taste of her and the duel their tongues played out.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked when they broke the kiss.

“No, I just have no strength left to bide my response.” Her body pushed back against him forcing his sex deeper.

“Then let go.” He pumped into her harder, massaged her quicker, felt her body tightened, tethered his own climax as best he could manage.