Otherwise, she would be facing a very sad union, indeed.
She pushed away from the window and stepped into the hallway. There she found Swanson, speaking to one of the extra men John had hired to guard his home. She blushed as the large, burly guard looked over Swanson’s shoulder at her. Sizing up the merchandise, no doubt, to see if it was worthy of his protection. His blank expression revealed nothing of his answer on that score.
Swanson spun around at the guard’s distraction and smiled at her.
“Ah, Miss Mariah.” He did not look at the guard again, but said over his shoulder, “You may take your place outside. Please recall your instructions.”
The man grunted and moved away from the hall and into the foyer where Mariah heard the front door close behind him.
“Has having more men working for the household made your job more difficult?” she asked.
The butler tilted his head in surprise. “No. No, Miss Mariah, of course not. They are rough men and must be handled somewhat differently than I would handle a footman or maid, but there is no extra work for me. Even if there were, I believe your safety would be worth that burden.”
Mariah smiled. Society at large might never accept her, John might begin to look upon her as a burden he regretted taking, but clearly Swanson and the rest of the servants were determined to make her a welcome mistress of the household. A small step, but one that gave her a little confidence, at least, that the future was conquerable.
“And has Mr. Rycroft already gone to bed, or is he in his office?” she asked.
Swanson shifted slightly. “I believe Mr. Rycroft is finishing up some work in his office, but he has told me he plans to go to his chamber within the half hour.”
“I see,” Mariah shifted. “Is his valet to be sent up to him soon?”
“In ten minutes, yes, to await his arrival.”
Mariah met the other man’s eyes. “Perhaps that order could be ignored?” she said softly. “Or perhaps you could just assume that
someone
will be present to play the role of valet for Mr. Rycroft?”
Swanson hesitated and she could see that the concept of ignoring a direct request from his master was a foreign one. But then he nodded. “It seems to me that as long as Mr. Rycroft has what he needs, there is no need for anyone in the household to interfere. Do
you
require anything of me, miss?”
Confidence sprang to mind, but she doubted the butler kept an extra cup of that in his shirtwaist, so she merely shook her head.
“No. I think I will head upstairs now. I have no need for my maid.”
“Good night, miss.” The butler gave a low bow.
Mariah smiled at the man and then headed upstairs to wait for John. And prayed that her wiles would be irresistible to him. If they were not, she didn’t know how she could face a lifetime of his disregard after a few weeks of his utter devotion and desire.
John was still reading a missive that had come to him late in the evening when he entered his bedchamber at midnight. He turned the page and continued to read even as he nudged the door shut behind him.
“Mr. Thomason?” he called out as he shook his head. “I believe I must make a call tomorrow. Will you be certain my green waistcoat is repaired? That button was loose last time I wore it.”
When there was no reply from his normally competent valet, he set the letter aside on the nearest table and looked around the room. There was something not quite right. His fire was too low, his dressing room too quiet. Had Swanson not sent up the valet? How could that be? Swanson was always the picture of perfect service.
He turned toward the bell to ring for his valet himself when a soft sound from his bedroom stopped him.
“Perhaps you could simply wear a different waistcoat.”
John stared at the bell next to his door for a long, charged moment. He wanted to turn around so badly he could taste the anticipation sweet on his tongue. It tasted like the soft skin of the woman who had just spoken to him. A woman who should very much not be in his bedroom. Not because she wasn’t wanted there, but because she was wanted far too much.
“What are you doing, Mariah?” he asked as he finally allowed himself to turn toward her.
Any further questions died on his lips, for when he faced her, he found that she was utterly naked. Except for his dressing gown, which was opened in the front to reveal all the pale, firm flesh of her body that could inspire a damned novel.
One that would
not
be read by ladies of good breeding.
“I am visiting my lover in his chamber,” she explained as she leaned back against the doorway separating the two chambers of his room. She arched her back and the robe gaped a fraction to reveal the curve of her breast, complete with a hard, pink nipple at the tip. One he wanted to latch on to with his lips and suckle until she slid to the floor in a heap.
“I’m not your lover,” he reminded her. And himself. Mostly himself. “I’m your fiancé now.”
“Yes,” she said and then pondered him closely. “And it seems you do not believe they could possibly be one in the same. Despite everything.”
“Because of everything,” he insisted and moved toward her without wanting to do so.
She tilted her head. “I don’t understand.”
He rubbed his eyes with one hand, but the image of her naked body never left his mind even if he wished to scrub it free.
“You are to be my wife,” he tried to explain. “And if anyone is ever going to respect you, I must be the one to set that precedent. And the first step is to treat you as I would treat a fiancée from my own class. I would not…I would not…”
He opened his eyes and stared at her. If he said out loud all the things he would not do, he would find himself doing them. And that was wrong.
Somehow.
He was having a hard time remembering just why when she smiled at him in such a wry, knowing way and turned to face him head-on. Her body was on display and his cock refused to listen to reason, instead hardening until he could scarcely breathe.
“So you would respect me by keeping your hands off of me?” she asked.
He nodded. His mouth was too dry to give another answer. Especially when she slipped her thumbs under the lapel of his robe and shoved it away from her body.
“That is a very sad beginning to a marriage,” she whispered. “To show a woman respect by showing her no desire. How much worse will it get when we are married?” She lowered her hand between her legs and stroked there without breaking his gaze. “Will you lock my pussy away in a chastity belt? Will you pass me in the hallway pressed against the wall so you do not touch me?”
He cleared his throat. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not.” She shimmied closer and the way her hips twitched mesmerized him. “I’m being very realistic. You see, my dear, this marriage you have proposed may not be for fortune or for…” She hesitated for just a fraction. “Or for love. But as your wife, I intend to demand that your husbandly duties be fulfilled in the bedroom. And I am starting now.”
She reached him and shoved his jacket off his shoulders with a saucy wink that made his already hard cock even harder.
“Don’t make me ask twice,” she said as she leaned up to press a heated kiss against his neck.
She was presenting far too tempting a prospect, something John guessed she knew full well. He should have been able to control his reaction to her. After all, beautiful women had thrown their charms at him dozens of times before only to be rebuffed.
The difference was he wanted this woman. Passionately. Powerfully. And he could not deny that when she wound one naked leg around his and arched up against his hard cock with a shiver of desire.
He found his hands lifting, almost of their own accord, winding around her upper arms and dragging her against him fully.
“Oh yes,” she purred, rubbing against him like a cat who had discovered a saucer of cream. “This is what I need. I’m pleased you do not intend to deny it to me.”
“Deny you?” he growled as he shoved her toward the bed. “Who could dare do that?”
Then there were no more words. He opened her naked legs and gazed down at the glistening sex waiting for him. She was right, he had been avoiding her, but it was only because she was such a temptation. Every moment of every day, he longed to pound deeply into her body. To take her, to claim her, to make her his in more primal a way than any slip of paper that sealed their marriage would ever do.
And every time he had such thoughts, it only proved to him that he cared for this woman.
That
he feared more than anything else, when it came down to it.
But tonight there was no fear, only desire that swept him away and deposited him on a distant island where nothing else mattered except that his fingers brushed along the inside of her thigh until they found the wet folds of her pussy.
She arched up, pushing his fingers harder against her body and shuddering when he touched her slick, smooth clitoris and breached her core. He smiled, wicked, and invaded her even more deeply. He stroked her sex with his fingers, driving within her as she lifted her hips and squeezed the digits with her inner muscles.
He lowered his head and stroked his tongue against her sex, lapping up the sweet juices of her desire as she moaned out his name in a long, throaty gasp. How had he denied himself this for so many nights? He would certainly not make that mistake again.
He sucked her clitoris hard and her orgasm exploded in a rush of moans and a fluttering of hips and sex. She thrashed her head as her crisis built and finally crested and she relaxed back against his pillows.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, still flush with erotic release. She smiled, utterly wicked and somehow still in control, despite the fact that he had taken over her seduction and forced the first release of the night. Now that he looked at her, he realized it would not be the last. She was bent on proving to him how much he needed her and he was not about to reveal that he had already come to that very same conclusion.
She sat up and shifted to her knees before she placed her hands on his chest and laid him back against the bed. He lifted his hands behind his head as a pillow and chuckled as he looked at her.
“And what will you do now?” he teased.
But there was no teasing on her face or in her voice when she whispered, “Everything. Anything. Because you’re mine.”
Later, John knew he would pretend she had been in the thrill of the moment. Or that her words were just empty seduction. But in that moment, looking up at her, he knew what she meant and there was nothing empty about it. She was claiming him as her husband. Tonight, long before any vows would be said. She was giving him everything and asking him for the same in return. Tonight he would give it, even if he had misgivings about the future. Tonight, he
was
hers.
She dropped her mouth to his hard cock and began to suck him slowly, languidly, tasting him like she had all the time in the world to do so. Her tongue was a revelation, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body and building him toward orgasm, only to back him off when it grew too close. She was an expert at pleasure and he surrendered himself to ministrations.
Mariah felt John give in to her and thrilled with the power she possessed. It might be temporary, yes, but for now it was hers and she intended to enjoy every moment. She nuzzled his cock, stroking it against her cheek before she drew him deep within her throat and sucked. His breath grew short and she rolled her tongue around him in slow, steady circles as he cried out in pleasure.
But it wasn’t enough. She could make him come, of course, but she wanted to be closer. She released him, letting him fall from her lips with a wet pop and then she shimmied up his body, dragging hot kisses along his belly, his chest and finally his mouth, tangling their tongues together as she positioned her pussy over him and slowly lowered herself to take him deep within her.
He stretched her magnificently, filling her every inch, making her feel whole in ways she would never be able to express to him or anyone else. Their panting breaths merged into shared moans the further he disappeared into her willing body and finally he was seated fully inside.
She began to ride him, gripping his waist with her thighs and stroking in firm, repeated thrusts. He rubbed just perfectly against her clitoris and the pleasure she had felt when he licked her returned with equal power. Perhaps even more power since they were one body now, one joined entity reaching for a common goal of pleasure.
He lifted with more earnest desire and she felt him move as close to the edge as she was. She wanted them to fall together. To feel him pump within her just as she shivered in release. She pulled him to a seated position and wrapped her legs around his back as she rocked, never slowing, never giving either of them relief from her relentless need. He held her hips, guiding her restless movements until the pleasure was almost pain and she screamed out his name.
He growled with pleasure, the veins in his throat outlined as he pumped his hot seed deep within her. She took it all, milking him with her own release, their hips slamming together, their sweat merging as he kissed her so passionately that tears filled her eyes as she clung to him and wished, prayed that the moment would last forever.