“Mmm. You smell delicious, and feel so good,” he whispered. “Do you feel how hard you make me? Yes, I’ll make it better,
so
much better, for both of us.” He captured her lips and thrust into her.
His groan of pleasure drowned out her brief cry of pain. She pulled back, pushing at his shoulders. “Stop, Kolton. Stop, stop,
stop
!”
“What is it, luv? Am I hurting you?”
Though Prudence had no experience with lovemaking, she had heard the whispers of other ladies discussing the act when they were unaware of her presence. Prudence knew she couldn’t admit he was indeed hurting her, such an admission would be as good as announcing her virginity. She thought quickly. Partial truth might get her out of this situation.
“I-It’s just that you are so
big
. I need a moment to get used to your size,” she improvised.
He chuckled. “You are good for a man’s vanity.” He flexed his hips and she felt him throb inside her.
“Oh, my. That...that feels good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He slid slowly in and out of her. The pain had eased, and as it did, a new kind of pleasure took over. She groaned and moved her hips experimentally in slow circles as he continued his steady thrusts.
“Ahh, sweetheart, you know how to drive a man crazy,” he growled as he increased his pace.
She moved with him, matching his rhythm. Soon, their coupling turned frenzied. Pressure build inside her, her heart soared and she could barely catch her breath. Tortured whimpers escaped her and her arms slid up his back to clench his shoulders.
“Yes,” he hissed, “come for me, luv. I want you to milk me dry. Come. Come for me now!”
As if obeying his command, her body shattered into a million pieces. The tight knot in her lower belly burst apart and contractions of pleasure clutched her womb. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and screamed his name.
“
Ah.
Oh, God
,
I’m going to come!” he choked and began pumping wildly into her, sending her to an even higher level of ecstasy.
Giving a hoarse shout, he threw back his head. His thrusting grew slow and deep and Prudence felt the wetness increase between her legs as he filled her with his seed.
A minute later he withdrew and flopped down next to her with a satisfied sigh, and within moments was asleep again.
Chapter Three
Prudence lay wide awake, reliving every detail of her first, and most likely
only
, foray into lovemaking. She wanted to remember every moment and store it away for times in her marriageless future when she could pull out the memory and live it again and again in her mind.
As dawn approached, her thoughts changed. How was she going to keep this from turning into a royal mess? As carefully as possible—and successfully this time—Prudence slid out of bed. Quietly and quickly, she washed away the stickiness between her legs in the semi darkness and dressed, checking every few moments to make sure Kolton didn’t awaken.
He had been drunk—but had he been drunk enough not to remember? She could pretend it never happened...or, she could tell him she was too embarrassed to say anything when he stumbled into her room and had slipped away to another chamber to sleep when he snuffed out the light. Yes, that was a good plan.
Feeling much better now that she had formulated a plausible story, she packed the last of her things into her valise for their return trip that day, checking to make sure she had everything, before she left the room.
She placed her bag with the trunks packed the night before, and read for an hour before going down to breakfast.
***
Kolton awoke with a headache. It served him right, he told himself, he never should have let Travers talk him into drinking and cards on his last night in Bath. But the viscount could talk a rabid dog into giving up a bone when he wanted to get his way.
The pain in his head wasn’t so bad considering the amount of drink in which he’d indulged the night before. He lay for a moment going over the previous night’s events. He had won more than he had lost at cards—which was a surprise, considering he was deeper in his cups than he would normally allow—and had been smart enough to quit while he still had a sizeable amount of coin to his benefit. However, the fact he didn’t remember returning to his room or getting into bed bothered him a bit. He rarely imbibed to that degree, anything could have happened to him in that state. He could have been set upon by footpads, woken in a strange woman’s bed and ended up with the pox—no, he was relieved to be lucky on that score.
He stretched and took mental inventory of his body. Other than the pounding in his head and the taste of a dry woolen sock in his mouth, he felt relaxed and surprisingly well rested.
It was probably time to get up and ready himself to leave, Kolton thought lazily. He wasn’t looking forward to the long ride home to his house in London, but at least he didn’t have to deal with Amanda’s constant chatter and not so subtle hints about changing his unmarried state. His life was fine just the way it was at the moment. He wasn’t opposed to marriage at this point in his life per se; he just hadn’t found a woman he felt an overwhelming desire to wed.
Yes, he definitely would not miss Amanda’s tendency to go on and on about the blissful state of matrimony and parenthood, nor would he miss her other favorite topics of conversation: fashion and the latest bits of juicy gossip.
At least Pru would make a decent companion for the ride home. She didn’t run off at the mouth like most women. Pru was amiable and conducted herself with quiet poise. She would probably read most of the ride and share pleasant, non-irritating, conversation with him. He didn’t normally spend time with her, though he had escorted her to balls and functions regularly during her one and only season. After that one exposure to the marriage mart, she’d refused to waste her time being a wallflower when she could be enjoying a good book. She’d told his stepmother just that when the poor woman tried to convince Pru to have a second season.
He did agree with his stepmother about one thing. Pru didn’t even try to make an impression. She wore drab colors, dresses that made her look dowdy and chubby, and pulled her hair back tightly in a severe chignon at the back of her head. And those spectacles! It wasn’t as if she needed them for anything other than reading, but she never took them off just the same. It was easy for society’s eligible bachelors to skip over her in favor of one of the prettier maidens looking for husbands. Pru, it seemed, was destined to remain on the shelf.
Kolton threw back the covers and got out of bed. He needed to relieve his bladder in the worst way. When he was done filling the chamber pot, he noticed dried blood on his member.
Bloody hell!
What happened last night?
He moved to the washstand, poured some water into the washbasin, and quickly cleaned himself off. He was relieved to find no injury. But, if there was no injury, how did that explain the blood? It obviously wasn’t his . . .
He quickly finished washing and threw on his trousers from the evening before. Where was his shaving kit? Rupert would not have packed it before Kolton was finished dressing. His valet was nothing if not predictable in his routine. Just the same, it wouldn’t be much trouble to retrieve it from his traveling bag.
If he could find it.
His bag was nowhere to be found.
Damn!
Had the universe decided to pick today to play nasty with him?
Perhaps it was by the door to the suite along with the trunks.
Kolton retrieved the shirt he’d worn the evening before and tossed it on as he left his room. As he expected them to be, both his and Pru’s trunks were packed and ready by the door. Her valise was there, but his was not.
Completely confused, and more than a little irritated by this point, Kolton returned to his bedroom and froze mid stomp.
The bed was made, his clothes laid out, his valise sat open on the bed, and his shaving kit was where he usually kept it on the washstand.
Was he going
mad
?
He closed his eyes, praying that when he opened them there would be a logical explanation for everything.
Warily, he opened one eye, and slammed it shut. He squeezed his lids tighter together then opened them. Nothing had changed.
This was totally ridiculous. Where was Rupert?
He stalked back out into the main room and looked around. Pru’s door was open. He looked inside. She wasn’t there but...
Bloody hell!
***
Kolton was pacing his room when Rupert arrived with coffee. Kolton immediately stopped pacing, sat, and gratefully accepted a cup from his valet.
“Shall I shave you this morning, my lord?” the man asked crisply. Rupert’s unusually curt tone momentarily caught Kolton’s attention.
“Yes. Yes, Rupert, that will be fine,” he answered distractedly. “I will have my morning coffee then you may proceed.”
“Very good sir,” the valet replied, still sounding a bit stiff.
They had grown up together at Kolton’s family estate, Rupert taking the position as Kolton’s valet when they were both barely men. Because of their long friendship, Kolton didn’t mind Rupert’s tendency to speak his mind on occasion when the other man deemed it necessary. But rarely had Kolton been presented with Rupert’s displeasure and today, of all days, Kolton did not feel up to dragging the source of Rupert’s disapproval from him.
Good god, could he have really bedded Prudence? The evidence was there; he’d awakened in her bed with blood on his member and, upon further investigation, he’d found blood on the mattress. When he tried to remember the previous night, he could only make out fuzzy flashes of a woman’s moans and a supple body beneath him.
No, Kolton, wait . . .
No, stop! . . .
He vaguely recalled hearing those words. They repeated over and over in his head. Had she tried to stop him? He hadn’t forced her had he? The thought made him nauseous. He’d never forced a woman. But, if his tangled memories were correct, the truth was painfully clear; she had tried to stop him.
Why had he done it? He had been drinking...had he even known it was Prudence he was bedding? He fought to recall more of their encounter. No, he hadn’t realized he was with Prudence; he would have halted at once if he’d suspected it was her in bed with him.
He must have thought she was Helena; the lovely, talented, and widowed Lady Whenton whom he was bedding back in London. No, there was no mistaking the wonderfully inviting curves he recalled beneath him with the shapely, yet slender, Helena. But, then again, he wouldn’t have associated the luscious body he recalled with its slim waist, full, firm breasts, and softly rounded hips with the somewhat plump and nondescript Prudence he knew either.
Oh, God, did she
know
he thought she was another woman? How utterly demeaning for her. And thoroughly disgraceful of him.
He had never thought of Pru in such an unseemly manner. He had always put her in the ‘sister’ category as far as women went. She had been only six when her parents died and she came to live with her second cousin, his stepmother, Victoria. Eight years her senior, he had spent little time with the shy youngster in the few short weeks after she arrived and he had gone off to school.
She had grown into a quiet, gangly girl when he’d returned from Oxford, but he remembered noticing the unusual blue-green color of her eyes and thinking that she would grow into a lovely young woman some day. A few months later, she’d left London to attend the same prestigious girls’ school that Amanda had attended. She had come home only for holidays and to attend his father’s funeral. On that occasion, she had stayed with the family for a few weeks, but Kolton remembered little of that painful time.
When Pru finished school and returned home for her come out, he hadn’t recognized her. She had looked nothing like the pretty young woman he’d imagined she would grow into. Instead, she’d looked much as she did now—frumpy.
Prudence always seemed to melt into the background, as if preferring to study the world instead of being part of it. People had overlooked Pru in favor of prettier, more vivacious young women, and sadly, so had he. He realized he’d never taken the time to know her as a person. She had always just been Pru; reserved and unassuming, more likely to be found with her nose in a book than discussing fashion or sharing gossip. He knew nothing of her interests, dreams of the future—he didn’t even know her favorite color.
And, now, to have taken her virginity in such a way, possibly without her consent, made him realize she deserved much more than an apology from him. Although, now that he thought about their encounter, he did vaguely remember giving her
some
pleasure. As a matter of fact, he distinctly recalled being aroused by her moans of pleasure, his own orgasm brought on by her cry of completion.
Placing his cup on the table next to his chair, Kolton motioned that he was ready for his shave. Rupert had him prepared and lathered in no time.
“So, my lord, what do you intend to do about Lady Prudence?” Rupert asked casually as he placed the razor against Kolton’s throat and slowly began his first upward sweep of the blade.
Kolton barely kept himself from jumping out of his seat and getting his throat slit in the process. “Pardon?” Did he actually just squeak? He cleared his throat. “What was that, Rupert?” There, that sounded better, much more aloof, and hopefully not as guilty as he felt.
“Lady Prudence,” Rupert repeated, wiping off the blade with exaggerated care before continuing his chore. “What are your intentions toward her now that you have...changed her circumstances, shall we say?”
“Changed her circumstances? Get that bloody thing away from me before you succeed in decapitating me,” Kolton grumbled, slapping away the hand holding the razor to his throat. “What? ‘No less than I deserve’? Stop mumbling man and come straight out with it. I should have known there was an ulterior motive behind your offer of a shave when you know I usually see to the task myself.”