Bridal Favors - Engaged in Wickedness (5 page)

"My God," he murmured. "Your skin glows!"

She looked down, but in the darkness she could see very little. Her white skin did indeed glow in the moonlight. But she looked at his curly mop of hair and the width of his shoulders. Truly there wasn't much to see, but she could feel such amazing things. Soon, she closed her eyes as her mind gave in to her very last thoughts.

This is exquisite
, she thought.
No one has ever touched me there...

His mouth found her right nipple and began to suck. Her body arched into him in shocked surprise, but she simply cried out in delight. Every pull of his mouth, every stroke of his tongue had her shuddering in wonder. Her knees went weak, and she was grateful to feel his hand brace her leg.

She could move her arms enough to touch his shoulder with one hand and to stroke her fingers through his hair with the other. His hair was silky soft and his shoulders so solid. It gave her enough strength to keep herself upright. She wanted nothing to interrupt the nip and caress of his tongue on her nipple.

Since he didn't need to hold her upright, his hand dropped lower, stroking beneath her skirts as he touched the stocking over her ankle, her calf, and then up and around her knee. His touch was gentle, his caress down there barely noticed while his mouth did such wonderful things to her breast. Nothing mattered except that. Her entire attention was riveted there.

Until his fingers crested over her stocking to slip a finger at the juncture of her thighs. She cried out again and tried to jump backwards. But her back was against the tree trunk, so there was no where to move. Worse, the brace of her legs against the ground widened her stance enough for him to push between her folds.

Never had she imagined the like. Not this way, not with the specifics. Not with the way his finger pushed in and drew back against her curls. She felt every ridge and bump of his knuckles.

She couldn't breathe for the explosions of sensations between her thighs, rippling through her belly, coiling behind her breasts. He was still pulling on her nipple, a steady distraction fracturing her mind to nothing. She was a body experiencing too much to comprehend.

He continued... everything. Her nipple. His knuckles. In and out. Twice. A third time. And then...

The coil snapped! Everything released.

She burst apart. That was what it felt like. As if skin and blood and bone flew apart, and her inner self soared.

Glorious
!

A long time later, she returned to Earth. Her breath slowed, her heart still thudded but in a wonderful rhythm. The tree bark bit into her back, but she scarcely cared. She was busy pulling together the pieces of her body and mind. But it would not reassemble as she'd once been. A piece here, a piece there, and everywhere were gaps in what she'd once been.

It confused her. It also delighted her because she liked nothing better than to be something different than before. After all, before she was bored and sometimes afraid. Now she was new. Or at least different. And that made her smile.

He was still kneeling before her, his face against her chest, his hands shifted such that one remained beneath her skirt, supporting her bottom. The other was stroking her hip above the fabric. A slow caress in a lazy circle.

She touched his forehead, brushing a curling lock away from his eyes.

"Are you back then?" he asked, his voice hushed with what might have been awe.

"Yes," she whispered. "No." Words were so very hard to form right then.

He pressed a kiss to the curve of her breast. He was smiling, she realized. "You have not done that before," he said. "Any of it."

It wasn't a question, but she answered it anyway. "Some. I have kissed before."

She felt his slow exhale and his hand beneath her skirt slid down and out into the night air. "I should not have done this."

"Is this why women wish to be married? Why didn't I know this before?"

He looked up at her, and she smiled at the dark shadow that was his face. She wished to see him more clearly, but as she couldn't, she settled on touching him with her fingers. She stroked across his cheek, measured the length of his nose, and brushed across his lovely mouth.

And when he opened his lips and stroked his tongue around her fingers, her toes curled in delight. More interesting, her belly quivered. Could they do this again? So soon?

He glanced back up the path. "We have been gone too long."

She frowned, reluctant to understand his words. But the meaning would not be denied. All at once, the practical considerations rushed into her mind. The ball, Amelia's mother, her reputation. Was her gown stained? Was she ruined now?

"Oh!" she cried, too dismayed to do more. Good lord, her breasts were still bared to the sky!

Fortunately, he was made of stronger stuff. "Shh," he said as he pushed to his feet. "Turn around, let me help."

She didn't respond at first as she was busy resetting her bodice correctly. She was so hurried that she nearly tore the dress. Never before had she been grateful for small breasts, but this time she was happy they tucked away without damaging herself or her gown.

Meanwhile, he was brushing off the knees of his pants before eyeing her skirt.

"It hasn't been too horribly long," he said, though he sounded as if he was lying. "Now turn around so I can see what is on the back."

She did, and he was remarkably efficient about knocking aside the dirt.

"That will do," he finally said.

She almost felt insulted by his brusque manner until she felt a slow brush of his fingers across the back of her neck.

"So beautiful," he murmured.

She turned back to him, wanting to search his eyes. So many men had called her beautiful, but his words didn't sound like flattery. In truth, she wondered if he knew he'd spoken at all.

"Sir Edward," she began, not even knowing how what she meant to say.

"Just Edward," he corrected with a wry twist to his mouth. "Please, Lady Gwen, call me Edward."

She nodded. "Will you call me Gwen then? Just when we are alone?"

He smiled at her, a slow delighted expression that filled her with warmth and had her stepping into his arms without thought or restraint. He welcomed her eagerly, wrapping an arm around her as he drew her tight.

She kissed him then, a slow press of her lips against his. He deepened it quickly, wrapping his other arm around her until they were pressed belly to belly. Groin to thick, hot, and impressively wonderful groin.

Finally her secret fantasy had come true. But now, of course, she had so many other wonderful experiences and ideas. Not the least of which was the way he kissed her.

Until he pulled back with a groan. "We risk too much right now."

She nodded, knowing he was right. Especially as he pulled a leaf from her hair. She glanced down at his pants, finally able to see them in the moonlight. Thankfully he wore a rather dull brown. She doubted the dirt stains would show. Especially if he did not linger in the ballroom.

"Do you remember my friend, Amelia? Find her and tell her that it's a Mr. Danford situation and I shall be taking a hackney home."

"The devil you say!"

"It's not as bad as it sounds. Last season Mr. Danford was too exuberant in his attention and I was forced to punch him in the face. I broke his nose, which was fine, but then his blood splattered on my gown. I couldn't very well let everyone see that, so I left the ball by the back gardens. I was going to walk, but there were cabs waiting there, so I hailed one and went home."

"Did your brother kill him? If not, I certainly will." He sounded so wonderfully furious that she chuckled.

"I don't think Robert ever knew about it. I am very independent. No one knows the half of what I do."

He grimaced at her as he took her arm and began steadily escorting her back toward the ballroom. "You risk too much, Lady Gwendolyn."

"Oh pray," she said with a laugh, "do not spoil the very best night of my life by sounding like my brother. Just do as I ask. I am sure there are cabs waiting nearby." Exactly where, she wasn't entirely sure. But the things were always close to a ball to pick up wayward gentleman. They would be just as happy with a wayward lady.

"I will do no such thing," he said. "You will wait here against the wall on the terrace. If someone sees your gown, they shall assume it was because you were leaning against the building there."

"You said my gown was fine."

"I said it would do. It will. For you to stand against the terrace railing. Then I shall tell your friend, Amelia, that you have something to show Debra at your home and that I shall be escorting the two of you there."

"She will wonder a great deal about that."

He frowned as he searched her face. "I suspect that you can handle her questions tomorrow. I need to know: will this be sufficient for her mother?"

Gwen nodded, impressed that he read the situation so well. Yes, she and Amelia shared nearly everything. It was Amelia's harridan of a mother who was the danger. "It should suffice. Especially if her mother has been drinking."

Edward released a short snort of disgust. "London chaperones leave much to be desired. I shall have to do better with my sister."

"Then I pity your sister," Gwen responded with a laugh. How excellent she felt right now! She didn't even care that she thought she heard the final flourish of the musicians. The ball would be ending very soon.

He must have heard it too because he grimaced at the terrace door. "Stay here. I will be back very soon. Do you have a wrap of some sort?"

"Yes. And it's very long for just this situation."

He paused as his mind obviously working through the meaning of that. "You are too wild! What is your brother thinking?"

"Having just enjoyed my wildness, Edward, I should think you are the last soul to criticize me!"

He flushed at her rather tart retort, and his gaze dropped to his hands. "Touché," he said softly. "Now don't move. I shall return directly."

"I shall not shift an inch," she said. Then she waited for him to disappear into the ballroom. She lingered a moment longer to see if anyone would come out onto the terrace. No one did as everyone was likely saying their good-byes inside.

Then with an insane giggle, she hopped off the terrace and began the very short walk to the back of the property.

Chapter 5

"Bloody hell. She's bolted." Edward hastily scanned the grounds, the terrace, even squatted down to see beneath the boards. She wasn't anywhere to be found. And he damn well knew she was nowhere inside. He'd set Debra to watching while he settled things with Miss Amelia Chichester and her mother.

"Bolted?" whispered Debra, her gloved hand pressed to her mouth. "But why? Was she in danger?"

Edward bit back a curse, not knowing how to answer. If it were Debra who'd gone missing, he would search the retiring rooms for where she would be cowering. But Lady Gwen seemed to run arms spread wide into anything dangerous. That was part of her allure. He scanned the grounds again, even knowing it was useless. She had too much of a head start. She could be anywhere!

Cursing at the delay, he still managed to dredge up a smile for his longtime neighbor and friend.

"Debra, let me escort you to your mother. You two can take the carriage home. I shall find out what has happened to Lady Gwen."

"You don't think she's taken harm, do you?"

"No, no," he said as he took hold of her hand. "She's simply wandered off somewhere. I shall find her and see her safely home."

"That's not very proper, you know."

"Yes, I know." He barely restrained himself from grinding his teeth. "Which is why you must keep it secret. Sometimes Lady Gwen gets rather, um, distracted. You know how you sometimes get lost in your thoughts and wander off?"

"Of course I do. But that's at home. Wandering off in London is
dangerous!
"

He knew that, damn it, which was why he was trying to get rid of Debra right away so he could search for Gwen. But he couldn't let his anxiety show. That would set Debra into a tizzy for sure. Then he'd never keep this quiet. "Yes, yes," he said, as he rather brusquely pushed her into the rapidly clearing ballroom. "But London is her home, and so I expect she feels quite comfortable here." Too comfortable, to his mind.

"Oh. Well, I suppose. If you're—"

"I'm sure. Go on now. Wave to your Mama."

"But what should I say—"

"I'm off for
manly
pursuits. Say that to your Mama and she won't think a second thing about it."

"But she'll be ever so disappointed that Lady Gwen isn't riding with us. She was rather excited when—"

"But you can both visit Lady Gwen tomorrow, right? To thank her for helping with your gown?"

Debra's expression cleared. "Oh! Oh yes! Of course—"

"Bye now, Debra. We'll speak tomorrow, what?" He didn't let her say anything more, but rather roughly pushed her toward her Mama. The two would get home right and tight, which was more than he could say about Gwen. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't stop the fear churning in his gut. When he thought about all the dangers to a girl walking alone in the middle of the night...