Far Beyond Scandalous (39 page)

"If you hadn't come crawling
back, I would have come after you.
 
You
realize that, do you not?" Amy said that last bit with a touch too much
glee in her voice, though he supposed she could be forgiven since they were
both finally getting what they wanted.
 
"No matter what kind of scandal I would have caused, I would have
sought you out and made you see reason.
 
I love you, Gibson, and that, I am afraid, will never change."

His heart soared at her words, and
the last of his anger remaining from his youth drained away.
 
His past didn't matter.
 
None of it did.
 
Even if he never saw a coin from the fortune supposedly still
sitting in a bank somewhere, it would not matter.
 
Amy had forgiven him.
 
Better still, she had given him her heart.
 
This time, he had been intelligent enough to accept it for the
precious gift that it was.

"That is perfect then, Amy,
for I love you as well.
 
And I have no
intention of ever letting you go again."
 
Then he shifted her body so that he could better access her mouth,
before reaching between them to undo the placket of his pants.
 
There was another part of her that he wanted
to reacquaint himself with, and the sooner, the better.

If their last kiss had been sweet
and tender, this one was incendiary.
 
It
began tentatively enough at first, their lips barely brushing as Amy snuggled
against Gibson.
 
But it wasn't
enough.
 
Not for him and not for
her.
 
Within moments, Amy had raised
herself up on her knees and was tugging at the throat of Gibson's shirt.
 
The skirt of her gown began creeping up her
long legs to pool at her thighs, and he was nearly undone at the sight of
her.
 
She was gorgeous.

"More, Gibson," she
begged breathlessly.
 
"I need
more.
 
More of everything.
 
Of you."
 
Amy knew she should not be saying such things, but she could not
help it.
 
The last two days had been
torturous, especially not knowing if Gibson cared for her as she did for
him.
 
She wanted to believe that he did,
but each time she thought about it, she dared not get her hopes up.

He had saved her from the clutches
of a madman.
 
There was that to consider,
especially knowing that he had risked his own life to do so.
 
Then again, he had also left her home in
Mayfair without a word, save for whatever he had spoken about with her father.

Still, her heart had believed in
him and always would.
 
He had saved her
life.
 
He had said he would give up his
own life for her.
 
She recognized that
those words, finally, were the truth.
 
All through the seemingly endless afternoon of statements and the
eventual removal of the body, Amy had held those words close to her heart,
knowing that she had to use them somehow to win him back.

There were obstacles between them,
true.
 
They could not be denied, though
she had been determined to find a way around them.
 
She would not allow them to stop her.
 
She would find a way for them to be together.

Then, late last night, her father
had returned from Carlton House with the good news.
 
Amy had, of course, wanted to immediately rush to Gibson's front
door, but even she was not quite that brazen.
 
The
ton
would forgive her much, but probably not that.

So she had waited until first light
and then, when she was certain her father was awake, requested permission to
summon a messenger to take the papers to Gibson.
 
When he agreed rather sleepily, she also mentioned that she would
be going out for a walk as well and not to expect her to return any time soon.

She did not mention, of course,
that she would not be taking a maid.
 
It
was assumed that she was, because that was the proper thing to do, and her
father was too exhausted to bother to ask.
 
He also did not think to ask where she would find coin to pay a
messenger.
 
She had prepared an answer
to that question as well, but it was unnecessary.
 
When she was certain that the earl was drifting back to sleep in
his library chair, she had slipped quietly out of the house, papers in hand,
prepared to fight for the man she loved, no matter the scandal she created.

Now, she was here, with him, her
body pressed to his, his lips on hers.
 
The one place she feared she would never be again.

"Were there endless days of
forever, it would still not be enough to give you all that you
deserve."
 
Gibson had no idea where
the poet in him had suddenly sprung from, but Amy looked beyond pleased at his
words so he didn't bother to examine it further.
 
He was happy.
 
She had
made him happy.
 
And she was happy in
turn.
 
That was all that mattered.

He pulled her closer and began to
nibble on her breasts.
 
They were just
as sweet and delectable as he remembered.
 
It hadn't truly been that long since they had last lain together, but in
his heart, it felt as if they had been separated for forever.
 
"I do not deserve you, Amy.
 
I have said that before and it is still
true.
 
But I am thankful beyond measure
that you chose to fight for me, especially when I would not fight for
myself."
 
Then he pulled one nipple
into his mouth and bit down lightly, sending shivers of pleasure racing along
her spine.

"And I do not deserve
you," she countered, teasing her tongue along the side of his neck and
generally behaving like a shameless wanton.
 
Not that she cared and she was fairly certain that he did not,
either.
 
"But I am thrilled beyond
words that you can see past my flaws.
 
That you do not look at me and find me lacking or think less of me
because of my past."

Pulling back, Gibson brought his
eyes to hers, making certain that she looked directly at him when he spoke,
even though it meant cooling the passion that had been building between
them.
 
"You are a strong woman,
Amy.
 
Far stronger than anyone has given
you credit for, I think."
 
He
teased the tips of her breasts with the pads of his thumbs.
 
"And I will spend the rest of my life
proving that I am worthy to love you and worthy of your love, as well."

After a long moment, Amy stilled in
his arms and that was when he knew for certain that the weight of his words had
finally found their mark.
 
"The
rest of your life?
 
Gibbs, are you
certain?
 
I do not want to press you for
a commitment you are not ready to make."
 
Though her heart leapt with joy at the prospect of becoming his wife.

"I am more certain of this
than I have ever been of anything.
 
Amy,
will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?
 
Not just because we suit or because I have my title back or
because I have already taken your innocence.
 
But rather because you love me as much as I love you.
 
With my entire heart and soul."

Tears pricked her eyes and in that
moment, Amy finally felt as if she had come home.
 
"Yes, Gibson.
 
Yes!
 
I will marry you, and I will
spend the rest of my life fighting for you when you doubt yourself.
 
I will be there if you fall and when you
triumph.
 
But most of all, I will be
there because I love you and without you, I am incomplete."
 
Then she kissed him deeply, pouring all of
her love, devotion and passion into that one act.

The passion that he had momentarily
cooled with his marriage proposal flared back to life with her kiss.
 
Gibson knew he should put her aside and send
her home.
 
It would be the proper thing
to do after all.
 
Yet, he was greedy,
and once they began to openly court, it was unlikely that they would be alone
together again until after the wedding.
 
This might be his last chance to have her until they were legally wed.

Rogue that he was at heart, he
would take full advantage while he had the opportunity.
 
Perhaps he had learned something useful from
his father after all.

Shifting Amy more firmly into his
grasp, he rose with her in his arms and began carrying her towards his
bedroom.
 
"Stop me now, Amy, if you
do not wish this, or if you would prefer to wait until it is all legal and
proper between us."

"I want you," she
whispered into his shoulder before scraping his skin with her teeth.
 
"More than you can ever know."

That was all he needed to
hear.
 
With great strides, Gibson
carried her to his bedroom within moments.
 
His erection throbbed almost painfully in his pants, and he wanted
desperately to bury himself into her tight, wet heat once more.
 
She must have sensed some of his need for
she made little mewling noises and pushed at his shirt, trying to remove it
from his body.

Gibson knew that he should wait and
bring her to satisfaction first.
 
He
also knew that Amy deserved tender passion, especially after the trauma she had
suffered the day before, but for once, he found his more gentlemanly manners
falling away.
 
The rake inside of him
emerged from where he had been hiding for the better part of Gibson's
life.
 
He needed to possess her, every
last, lovely inch of her.
 
Now.
 
He could not wait any longer.

Placing her almost reverently on
the bed, he stepped back and began to quickly strip out of his clothes, barely
bothering to undo the buttons.
 
"I
am sorry, my love.
 
I cannot wait.
 
I should, I know, but there is something
inside of me that is pushing me onward.
 
If you are put off by this kind of raw and unchecked passion, tell me
now because I fear if I go any farther, I will not be able to stop."

Stopping was the last thing Amy
wanted.
 
That fire and driving
hunger?
 
She felt it as well, burning
inside of her until she thought it might drive her mad.
 
It had been there since her father had fired
the single shot that had ended Mark Overton's miserable, worthless life.
 

As she had watched the man's life
drain away, she felt a clawing need to prove that she was still alive.
 
That he hadn't taken her life with him when he
died.
 
It was silly, she knew, but at
the same time, she wanted to reaffirm that she was still breathing, that she
had a future ahead of her.
 
She wanted
Gibson.
 
She wanted his passion.

"This thing you feel?
 
This unquenchable desire for me?" Amy
questioned, rising up onto her knees and opening her arms to him once he was
blissfully and perfectly naked.
 
"I
feel it to.
 
It begs me to prove that I
am alive.
 
Make me feel, Gibbs.
 
Please.
 
I need you inside of me, loving me as only you can."

He needed no further urging, and
with a growl, he moved to divest her of that infernal gown.
 
"Take it off," she practically
begged as she raised her arms to help him accomplish his task.
 
"I want to feel you.
 
All of you."
 
This was the strong, sure woman that had captured Gibson's heart
that very first day they had met, and he felt something give way inside of
him.
 
It was the last of his doubts he
realized, as he leaned down to capture her lips with his once again.
 
Amy had freed him from chains that he hadn't
even realized were binding him.
 
He owed
her greatly for that.

Then she darted her tongue out to
play along the seam of his lips and he forgot everything but her.

He pushed her down hard into the
mattress so that he could recapture one of her delectable breasts with his
mouth.
 
With his hands, he teased the
other globe, pinching and twisting her nipple until she squirmed beneath
him.
 
Then his hands stroked lower,
across the flat of her stomach which he could imagine soon swelling with their
child.
 
This time, he allowed himself a
moment to savor the image and found that it made him wild to have her once
again, hoping that this time, he might plant that seed if he hadn't done so
already.

"Open for me, sweeting,"
he breathed as his hand skimmed the nest of curls at the apex of her
thighs.
 
Amy did as he asked, spreading
her legs wide in welcome.
 
He stroked
his fingers along her slit, pleased to find her ready for him at his slightest
caress.
 
"So wet."
 
Then he kissed her again.
 
"But not yet.
 
First your pleasure.
 
As
always."
 
It seemed as though there
was a bit of gentleman left in him after all.

Slowly, Gibson kissed his way down
her body, lavishing attention on every inch of her skin.
 
If this was to be their last time until the
wedding - and he would see about purchasing a special license to speed things
up if necessary - then he would make it count.
 
By the time he reached her navel however, he knew he had captured her
full attention.

"Gibson, please," she
begged but he continued to kiss and caress her, all the way over her feminine
mound, down her thighs to her delicate ankles and then finally, her feet.
 
By the time he was done, there was not a
part of her that he had not worshiped or touched, kissed or caressed.

When he worked his way back up her
body, he spent extra time on her inner thighs, kissing and biting the tender
flesh until her legs quaked and she clutched blindly at the bedclothes.
 
She was so close to finding her release, but
she was not there quite yet.
 
So, with
trembling hands of his own, Gibson parted her feminine lips and slid first one
finger and then a second deep inside of her.