Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (35 page)

“We should go to our room,” he said.

It was a sound suggestion, but not one she was willing to listen to.

She needed him now.

Needed to know that what they’d shared less than a week ago had really happened. To know that he needed her as much as she needed him even if it was only on the physical plane right now. No, there was a visceral connection that called them, each to the other. Intimacy was what would seal the bridge between their feelings and their desires.

They both needed this.

“I’ve wanted you every moment of every day,” she admitted. She’d just not known how to tell him that.

An animalistic groan emerged from him as he pressed her legs wide and rocked himself right into her center. “Tell me again you need me now.” His voice was hoarse.

“I do,” she moaned, tossing her head back, sinking into the sensation of his body against hers. She loved the feeling of him atop her. “I need you, Tristan.”

“I will give you whatever you wish for.”

His promise was like sweet nectar on her tongue, and she licked at his chin before pulling at his lips and sucking his tongue into her mouth.

His hands moved between their bodies and released the buttons on his trousers. Then his fingers were slicking between the folds of her femininity. Tristan bit playfully at her earlobe, tonguing the earring fastened there, and then his teeth nibbled a sweet erotic path over her neck, and over the vein that pulsed sharply in tune with her heart.

Sweat beaded at her brow as Tristan ran his free hand over her bodice and cupped her breasts through the material separating them—tonight it would come off, and they could be skin to skin finally. His other hand was moving in a hot rhythmic fashion over the bud of pleasure between her legs. His movements didn’t cease until her breathing grew ragged and hitched.

He chose that moment—the moment before she hit that final precipice of pleasure—to pull his hand away and bury himself deep between her thighs. He cupped her chin and kissed her as he filled her body over and over again. Their actions were hasty … desperate.

She clutched at him, wanting him to take her harder and faster, wanting it to never end as their breaths mingled and their bodies slapped and pounded together in crushing need.

“We should never have waited,” he said on a deep, hard thrust that moved her an inch up the sofa. She clasped her thighs around his hips and rubbed her hands over his back, trying to pull his shirt from his trousers.

“Had I known it would be like this…”

“It can be more.” He cupped one breast through her dress again. “It can be so much more,” he hissed out before biting gently at the tip of her material-covered breast.

She arched up against him as he thrust deeper inside her, his pace more frantic now. Grasping his head in her hands, she held him close to her breast, never wanting him to stop what he was doing to her body. She swore he made it hum in perfect accord to his.

One of his hands moved lower and she felt the flick of his thumb against the bud of pleasure between her thighs. He moved in time with his thrusts, and she felt her body tighten, building up to that final explosion of pleasure.

He covered her mouth with his when she hit that final apex. He kept kissing her, slowing the motion of his pelvis, as she rode out the exquisite feeling. When she grew cognizant of her surroundings, her gaze snapped to his. There was a hunger visible so deep in his blue eyes that her breath caught in her lungs.

“Put your hands above your head,” he demanded.

She could do no more than comply. She’d do anything he asked of her right now.

He tangled his fingers through hers, holding her hands where he’d asked her to place them. His other hand moved to the small of her back and he tilted her pelvis in such a way that he sank deeper inside her, causing a moan to press past her lips and her eyes to slip closed again.

“Look at me,” he said.

The small ring of crisp blue in his eyes ensnared hers. He grinned down at her as his hips thrust at a steady rhythm that brought her to the point of ecstasy once again. He met his end with a groan just as she exploded around him. Breathing heavily, he collapsed on top of her.

Charlotte tangled her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes. Getting up now would be an ordeal. She should have taken him up on his offer to retire to their bedchamber. But such a thing was not possible when they had a duke visiting them. She hadn’t an ounce of energy to pull herself together and go back to her daily duties. Lounging about seemed ideal.

Tristan stirred above her and lifted his weight away—she missed him immediately. His grin was charming as he fixed her skirts, pulling them back down around her shins. He stood in front of her, tucking himself away and fixing his clothes as best he could. He looked rumpled and as though he’d just come out of a nap. She wondered if she looked much the same.

“Let’s leave direction for Hayden and go to our room.”

She sat up and smoothed her hair back with her hands. “You know we can’t.”

“It’s our house; we can do precisely as we please.”

She put out her hand for Tristan to take. He helped her to her feet, but dropped to his knees to fix the wrinkles in her skirts and rubbed his hands along her calves in the process.

He buried his face in her lap and pulled her tight against his body. She rested her hands on his strong shoulders for a moment, feeling the strength that held on to her.

She had to believe her father would not hurt him.

“That was but a taste of what it will be between us,” he said.

She brushed her fingers through his hair, loving the silky feel of it. “We have the night to ourselves. It was reckless to do this in here. Anyone could have happened upon us.”

“But they didn’t.” He made his way to his feet and soundly kissed her on the mouth.

“I would like to meet your friend, especially since you expect me to entrust your safekeeping to him.” She searched his eyes, seeing his good humor lurking in wait, ready to tease her for the sudden recloaking of her modesty.

She realized then that the desperation to have him had stemmed from the worry that her father might actually cause him harm. For what reason did men play such foolish and dangerous games? If Tristan thought she wouldn’t interfere with what her father planned, he had another think coming. And on the heels of the realization, she knew she had fallen in love with him.

Without a doubt, her heart would shatter if she lost him. She’d send a letter to her father and beg him to call off the duel. Certainly she had some say in this. She’d been the one to disobey her father’s direct wishes, not Tristan. If anyone was to blame, it was she. But really, her father should ask himself where everything had gone wrong. Had he listened to her pleading against marrying Mr. Warren, none of this would have come to pass.

*   *   *

Tristan wasn’t sure what exactly had brought on his reckless need to have his wife in the library, but he was glad for it. Perhaps that would break the last of the barriers erected between them. Perhaps now they would stop dancing around their feelings and learn more about each other.

“Shall we head out to the garden, then?” Tristan asked some time later. They’d had to go up to their room, not to extend their morning tryst but to straighten out their clothes properly. Charlotte had also had to take down her hair and repin it.

“Is my hair at least presentable?” Charlotte patted away a few stray pieces at the back of her head as she looked in the vanity mirror. Tristan stood behind her, barely containing his need to carry her over to their bed and demonstrate how to disarray it further.

“You look flushed and lovely.” He took her hand, had her stand, and pulled her against his body so he could properly kiss her again.

“I cannot go out there looking
flushed.
What would your sister and friend think?”

“That our marriage is not only in name,” he teased.

He led her out of their bedchamber and headed toward the back garden.

She shoved at him. “You’re being impossible and far too smug.”

He grasped her hips and brought her closer to him as they walked. “It’s your fault. And you look perfectly fine. No one will be the wiser. Besides, Hayden expected a row between us, I’m sure, not a morning interlude.”

“Then perhaps I should act cross,” she suggested.

“Don’t even think it. I like it when we are in perfect agreement.”

“Yet I do not agree with you or my father dueling,” she said. “I know better than anyone that my father has a steady aim.”

“And you can rest assured that I do not—at least not while facing your father.”

“He’s quite angry.” She worried her lower lip. “I wouldn’t put it past him to aim true.”

And how dare her father try to rip away everything that was perfect in her life. Tristan couldn’t imagine a life without Charlotte … not now. Looking back to their earlier friendship, it surprised him that he’d waited so long to wed her; she’d always been the perfect woman for him. What he should have done was elope with her the very first time he’d mentioned marriage.

Hayden and Bea sat on an old stone bench as the children waded into a shallow part of the lake, fishing nets streaming through the water as they caught tadpoles and minnows.

“Hayden,” Tristan called out to his friend as they approached. “I’d like for you to meet my marchioness, Lady Charlotte.”

Hayden stood and bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who finally caught up with this rapscallion.” Hayden slapped Tristan on the back of his shoulder as he said this.

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I’m surprised we haven’t been introduced before now.” She took the duke’s hand. “Will you walk with me a moment?” she asked him.

“Certainly,” Hayden said. Tristan gave her a dark look. What was she about?

His wife went off on the arm of the duke, and Tristan raised his brows as he sat next to Bea, facing the lake and the children.

“Why is Hayden here?” his sister asked, suspicion filling her voice.

“Ponsley has requested a duel.”

His sister laughed. “You cannot be serious.”

“That’s exactly what Charlotte said when I told her.”

“Why would he wish to harm the man who married his daughter?”

“Maybe he still plans to marry her off to Warren.”

“You and I both know that Warren won’t have her now. He’s always preferred a woman with a pristine reputation,” Bea said sourly.

Tristan took her hand in his. “He doesn’t deserve you, Bea. He never has.”

“I wish I could believe that. Instead, I feel as though I’ve failed somehow in life.”

“Never think that. The only person who failed is Warren.” He put his arm around his sister’s shoulders and pulled her against his side. She rested her head briefly on his shoulder. “Charlotte’s father has always stood against me, Leo, and Hayden in Parliament matters. His actions don’t surprise me in the least.”

“Will you travel back to London?”

“No, I don’t want the duel written about in the rags. And I don’t want to hear any whispers about Town that there is some tension between the Castleigh and Ponsley households.”

“So where will you do it then?”

“Here, most likely.”

Bea placed her hand on his forearm. “You have to stop this—it’s foolish to duel with someone. What of the children if you’re hurt?”

“I won’t be hurt. Surely Ponsley is only doing this to save face amongst his peers. He’ll not widow his daughter.” He had to believe that, because anything else … There could be no other outcome than for them both to walk away without injury.

“I hope you’re right,” Bea said.

So did he.

*   *   *

“Are you his second?” Charlotte asked the duke, unable to look at him or give away how much this was tearing her up on the inside.

“I am.”

His hand was reassuring where it rested over her hand as they walked around the edge of the lake.

“I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“I’ve already arranged for a physician I trust to be on hand.” The duke seemed calm about the whole situation.

“That’s not reassuring.” Charlotte looked off into the distance, fighting back the tears that came with the weight of what her husband had told her.

The duke looked at her, drawing her gaze to his. His dark brown eyes were assessing but calm. “Do you love him?” he asked.

“I—” She closed her mouth. “Everything has happened so fast that my feelings are a jumbled mess.”

“That sounds a lot like love to me,” he said matter-of-factly. She didn’t doubt it for a minute. But she’d not share her feelings with the duke before sharing them with her husband.

“You love someone, then?” she asked.

His chest puffed out a little. “I do. She’ll not have me, but that doesn’t change my devotion to her.”

Charlotte suddenly felt sad for the duke. Who could this woman be to capture a man regarded so highly above everyone else? Truth be told, she couldn’t believe they walked arm in arm, sharing a conversation. There was no one with more pull in society than the man currently on her arm.

“You know you could stop the duel,” she pointed out.