He dipped the sponge into the water and rinsed the soap off her back. “You are still out of reach,” he said, wanting to rub his arousal against the soapy cleft of her buttocks. Ram circled around to the back and straddled the tub. Gently he sat down on the small ledge. The tub might have been too small for them to share, but he had a mutually satisfying compromise. “Much better. Come closer, Patience.”
She inched closer to him.
“Face me, lady,” he ordered throatily.
After a moment’s hesitation, she complied. “I can wash myself, Ramscar.”
He surprised her by handing over the sponge. “Then show me.”
Patience accepted the sponge and with brisk efficiency washed her face and both arms. She was
doing her best to avoid gazing at his swollen cock, but he had caught her nervously peeking at it a time or two.
“Your breasts. It would be utterly criminal for you to ignore those beauties,” he prompted when she hesitated.
Glowering at him, she washed her breasts with the enthusiasm of an elderly nun.
Was she mad? Why was she rushing? Patience undoubtedly did not appreciate her breasts as much as he did. Ram halted her brisk movements by resting his hand on her hip.
“Nicely done,” he praised her, grazing his nails against the contour of her hip. “However, there are other, more pleasurable ways to go about the task.”
Patience sensed Ram was no longer content to stroke her with his hungry gaze. A man like him was born to conquer, to take what he desired. The sponge plopped into the water forgotten. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. “Like this,” she whispered against his mouth.
His manhood jerked in response. It heartily approved. “Show me again,” he softly entreated.
She positioned herself between his legs and braced her hands on his shoulders. Her entire body tingled as her lips moved slowly, thoroughly, over his warm
lips. Ramscar was a wondrous kisser. He knew the right amount of pressure to make her senses sizzle. The clever thrust and retreat he did with his tongue teased her to the point of mindless abandonment.
Ramscar cupped her breasts and kneaded the pliant flesh. Her nipples plumped like succulent raspberries as each rubbed against his palms. He broke away from her mouth and nipped her on the chin with his teeth. Drawing her in closer, he suckled her left breast. A pleasurable contraction caused the muscled walls of her womb to quiver. Her sheath tightened almost painfully in anticipation. Only Ramscar had touched her in such a manner. Phoenix had only been interested in having a lover who attended to his needs. The man in front of her thought only of building on her pleasure.
Patience moaned when his fingers stroked the cleft between her legs. Like her dreams of him and the night she had visited him in his bedchamber, the hot intimate feminine heat was slick with anticipation, the honeyed wetness permitting his fingers to penetrate her without discomfort. Her hand glided down his chest and shackled his jutting arousal. The hot flesh pulsed in her hand.
He flicked his tongue over her nipple. “No more flirtatious games, Patience. You have distracted me until I think of nothing but bedding you.”
“You credit me with too much power, my lord,”
she said, closing her eyes when his fingers fluttered within her feminine sheath. “I wager no lady has held sway over you for long.”
Ramscar did not seem to hear her. He was too intent on exploring her body. He withdrew his fingers from her snug sheath and tasted the moisture coating them. “Just as I thought. Your desire tastes like a spicy temptress’s brew meant to ensnare a man’s senses.” He kissed her hip bone. “Consider me enslaved.”
Without asking, he hooked his hand around her right thigh. Patience locked her arms around his neck while he silently coaxed her down so she straddled him. The position opened her, leaving her feeling awkward and vulnerable. She glanced down between their bodies and watched as the length of his manhood rubbed enticingly against her sex.
Ramscar threaded his fingers through her long damp hair, pushing her tangled tresses to the back. “Lift your hips slightly.”
At her blank look, he grasped her by the waist and raised her high enough to position the thick head of his manhood over her feminine portal. Patience squirmed against the uncompromising pressure of his commanding penetration. She always disliked this part. This aspect of him did not resemble her dream at all. The earl was too big!
“You can,” he said, deducing her panicked
thoughts. “Easy now.” Adjusting his angle a degree, he eased into her sheath with tiny upward thrusts until she could wrap her legs around his hips.
Patience rested her cheek against his shoulder. His arousal stretched her, making her wholly aware of his invasion. There was no pain, but she could not fathom how to move. “I never dreamed that you were so large.”
He smiled into her hair. “You dreamed of me? Of us as lovers?” He sounded pleased by the notion.
She nipped his shoulder with her teeth. The man’s arrogance would not be contained if she confirmed his suspicions. “No. A slip of the tongue. I was thinking of another,” she lied.
“Witch!” Ramscar swatted her backside. “I’ll show you how to use that wicked tongue of yours properly.” He fastened his mouth firmly to hers and devoured. He did not release her lips until they were both breathless. Panting, he said, “On the morrow, you will think of no other man but me.”
Patience Winlow was a capricious creature. Part innocent, part temptress, the lady fascinated him. Ram tried to dampen his raging ardor by reminding himself that she was a skillful actress. She had had previous lovers and, perhaps, had practiced this blood-thrumming façade to perfection. She had succeeded in whetting his interest, and now he was fully prepared to reward her for her efforts.
The little actress would soon learn she was caught in her own sensual snare.
“You fit me quite nicely,” he said, gritting his teeth as he helped her slide up and down his rigid cock. He had adjusted his legs and secured them against the exterior of the sea horse–shaped tub so he could better control their movements.
Patience sighed on a downward stroke and leaned closer to place little kisses along his brows. She continued across his cheek, her goal his ear. Ram turned his head to accommodate her. She bit his earlobe and then flicked the tip of her tongue over a sensitive spot just behind his ear.
A soft purr of contentment vibrated in her throat. “You are very cunning.”
“I have always thought so,” he quipped, not really certain why she thought him so clever. Nor did he care while he held her wet, naked body against him.
She opened one eye and studied his face. “You have placed me in a unique position.”
He snorted at the politeness infused in her observation while his cock was buried so deep into her tight sheath that he could feel her heart beating. “When you tire of this one, I know several more that will amuse you.”
Her brows furrowed at his boast. “Are they equally deceptive?”
“Deceptive?” He bucked up against her so she was aware of every inch of him. “I thought I was being extremely conspicuous.”
She silently stared at him, clearly taken aback by his crudeness. “I was not speaking of
it,
you silly man!” She laughed and playfully shoved him on the shoulder. “I was referring to this position, me on top of you. I should be the one who has all the control, and yet—”
Ah, he immediately grasped what she was trying to explain. She seemed genuinely baffled by her predicament. As he had first suspected, her experience in carnal matters had been very limited.
“And yet you seem vulnerable to my whims.” To prove his point, he ground his pelvis against her hard enough to make the tub rock and quake.
Patience dug her nails into his shoulders. She pressed her forehead to his. “Yes. Very much so.”
Ram slid his hands over her firm buttocks, savoring the building tension he was creating in both of them with his relentless thrusting. He did not know if he could give Patience the control she was asking for. He had been born to protect and dominate those under his rule. His previous lovers had found him indulgent and creative in bed. However, there had never been any doubt that he was in charge.
“You’ll learn,” he murmured, nuzzling her throat and losing interest in the subject. Ram loved the
way her breasts still slick with soap rubbed against his chest. Unfortunately, the tiny sea horse–shaped tub had never been designed for the rigorous demands of lovemaking. It rocked stern to bow with each shattering thrust. The water within slapped against the sides like a tumultuous sea.
“Oh, Ramscar! I feel—” Patience tossed her head back and cried out as her climax overwhelmed her.
Her glorious uninhibited abandonment was a siren’s call for Ram’s taut body. Quickening his movements, he sensed his own release was approaching. Their frenetic movements had made the small tub extremely unstable. It rocked in tempo, sending Ram deeper than he could have managed alone. Heedless of the potential danger, he buried his face into her breast and hastened his strokes.
“Oh-oh—Ram!” Patience cried out, another orgasm claiming her. She sank her sharp teeth into his shoulder as she mindlessly rode him.
His restraint shattered, Ram pulled her up tightly against him, his cock swelling in anticipation of the impending release. The subtle shift in weight capsized the small overburdened tub. Entwined with Patience, Ram fell backward. The back of his head and his back collided with the hardwood floor. He grunted at the impact as lukewarm water washed over them.
Horrified that he had been hurt, Patience crawled
off him and immediately began searching for injuries. “Good grief, Ramscar. Where does it hurt?”
Everywhere.
He could not answer her. The blasted fall had knocked the air out of his lungs. A pity the pain and lack of air had done nothing to quell his ardor. He curled his hand around his cock and rolled onto his side away from her. His body would not be denied. Ram clenched his teeth as his fingers squeezed the swollen head of his cock. To his utter mortification, he pumped his seed onto the floor.
Patience picked up a towel and returned to Ramscar’s side. He was breathing heavily, and his body quaked. With his fist curled tightly around his manhood, she averted her gaze, realizing he was not as injured as she had initially feared.
She knelt at his side, facing his back. “I brought you a towel,” she said softly. “We have made a real mess. I doubt Scrimm will grant me another bath.”
Ramscar blindly reached for the towel she offered him. He pulled the cloth over his hips. “Christ, it was a debacle!”
Her lower lip quivered at his harsh statement. Until they had capsized the tiny tub, she had thought their lovemaking extraordinary. “My apologies, my lord. As you have just discovered, my experience in
these matters is very limited. You should have accepted Miss Grassi’s generous invitation if you desired a seasoned companion.”
Despite the water pooling on the floorboards, Ramscar rolled toward Patience; his hot gaze lashed her. “I have no intention of discussing my former mistress with you,” he said succinctly, rubbing the damp towel against his groin.
So Meredith had been correct about the couple’s relationship, after all.
He carelessly tossed the towel aside. It was impossible not to notice the earl was still aroused. Oblivious to his nakedness, he climbed to his feet. “Furthermore, the only debacle is me! Ever since that day I kissed you by the pond, I have anticipated the day I would lay you down onto my bed and sate myself between your soft thighs.” Thoroughly disgusted, Ramscar gestured at the watery mess at their feet. “And what do I do? I crack my skull and spine in one ruthless blow, and then hastily spill my seed as recklessly as a youth who has never glimpsed a woman’s bared breast.”
He stomped across the wet floor and pulled her up against his hard muscled body. “I did not want Angeline Grassi in my bed this evening. Whatever we shared was brief, and ended months ago.” He lowered his head and rubbed his nose against Patience’s.
“You were so beautiful this evening. I wanted to challenge every gentleman who approached you.”
The coolness of the air made her shiver and snuggle closer for warmth. “You never asked me to partner you in a dance.” Patience bit her lip, regretting her words. Now he knew how disappointed she was that he had not danced with her.
Ramscar roguishly grinned at her admission. His nails lightly scraped the length of her spine. “I was trying to be noble.”
Noble? By ignoring her, yet speaking to his former mistress? Patience’s eyes narrowed at his unlikely excuse. “Maybe we should mop up this water with a few towels.”
“I was. Truly,” he said, cupping her buttocks and maneuvering her closer. The length of his arousal pressed against her belly. “I had vowed to keep my hands off you. Each time I was close to you, I felt myself weakening. I knew if I touched your hand while we danced, all was lost.”
The hurt she had experienced from the slight vanished with his explanation. A soft cry erupted from her lips when he scooped her up into his arms. “Did the fall addle you? Put me down.”
“I will.” Ramscar carried her over to her bed. He dropped her onto the bed. She bounced as she fell against the mattress. Covering her with the length
of his body, he parted her legs and promptly slid his manhood into her until she gasped. “Our first time was a minor debacle, but I’m a gent who learns from his errors.”
Imbedded to the hilt, he moved his hips against her and flexed. She threaded her fingers into his hair and moaned.
“Let me prove it to you.”
After his first invigorating thrust, Patience forgot all about mopping up the water that was ruining the floor.
Patience awoke the next morning alone.
Shoving her tangled hair from her face, she sat up with a yawn. It was then that she realized she was naked. She glanced down at her body, viewing it differently than she had before Ramscar had stepped out of the shadows and offered to bathe her. As she had guessed, the earl was a virile, demanding lover. There was not an inch of her that he had not touched with his skillful fingers or tongue. The stickiness between her thighs reminded her of the hidden places he had eagerly plundered.
Ramscar had been quite thorough.
After he had carried her to the bed, he had proved to her that any doubts she might have had about his stamina or expertise as a lover were unfounded.
Panting and sobbing his name, she had climaxed four times before he had sought his own release. Once he was sated, Patience had expected him to pull out of her body and leave her. Phoenix had always pushed her out of the bed once his needs had been satisfied.
Ramscar surprised her again.
He had rolled her onto her back and massaged her body, beginning with her feet. Grinning at the memory, she idly rubbed her finger over the two bite marks he had left on her breast. By the time he had worked his way up to her breasts, his love play had suddenly turned serious. Parting her legs, he slipped easily into her and rocked against her until they were both breathless.
Between the excitement of the ball and Ramscar’s carnal demands, Patience had collapsed into a deep sleep. She had awoken several hours later. Rolling over onto her side, she discovered that Ramscar was also awake. Wordlessly, he pulled her leg so it hugged his hip, and gently coaxed his manhood into her. The frenzied passion of the previous hours had given way to tenderness. When she climaxed, she took him with her. The sensation of him pulsing inside her in tempo with her own release had been overwhelming and glorious. She had wept in his arms for the sheer beauty of it.
Her tears no longer seemed to worry him. He
had cuddled her against his side until they had both allowed exhaustion to claim them.
Patience retrieved her chemise from the floor. Pulling it on over her head, she winced when she noticed the dampness on the floor. Ramscar might not care about the condition of his floorboards; however, Scrimm would be very displeased with her once he learned of the mess.
She was not upset that Ramscar had left her while she slept. He was the Earl of Ramscar. Certain proprieties had to be maintained, not only for the staff but also for Meredith’s sake. His sister had been upset that Angeline Grassi had been his lover. Would Meredith be equally distressed to learn he had replaced the blond temptress with Patience?
Did one night of lovemaking turn her into Ramscar’s mistress? She was not exactly clear on the etiquette of taking a lover. However, one thing was certain—a gentleman did not install his mistress within his own household. It was expected that a gentleman would tuck his mistress away from prying eyes so he might inconspicuously visit her on occasion. Ramscar was not following the rules. Oh, how he must be crowing at his good fortune. As long as they were discreet, he could keep her in his household and summon her to his bed at a whim.
Patience glanced at the tiny bruise on her breast. She doubted she would be able to deny him if he
came to her again. He had deliberately marked her as his. Strangely, she was not as unsettled by the idea as she should have been. She scooped up the wet towel he had discarded the previous evening and dropped the dripping cloth into the tub.
She froze at the soft knock on her door.
Patience cleared her throat. “Yes?”
“It is Meredith. May I enter?”
Patience stared at the door, appalled by the reasonable request. From her perspective, the rumpled bed and the carelessly discarded clothing were akin to a den of iniquity. “I have yet to dress.”
“Very well. I will wait for you on the stairs,” Meredith said through the door. She moved closer to the door. “You need to dress quickly. Something has happened. A man from Bow Street has been summoned and my brother is demanding your presence in the library.”
It was not the friendly summons she had anticipated. Why had a Bow Street Runner been sent for? Hastily, Patience dressed. The answers she craved awaited her downstairs.