And what he’d said earlier in the evening . . . Lord above, it had been all she could do not to melt into a puddle on the ground.
Stepping onto the dock, she saw a large man emerge from the shadows. “Evenin’, Mrs. Leighton. I’m Fitzpatrick, His Grace’s valet. The duke, he asked me t’ bring you inside.”
His . . . valet? Julia swallowed her shock and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Pray lead on.”
“Just Fitz,” he said before turning around.
As they walked toward the palazzo, she studied Colton’s valet. Large and bulky, Fitz was definitely a man one would want to avoid in a back alley. Had that been a scar running down the length of his face? Her nerves, already on edge, were not calmed by Fitz’s presence. Why would the duke require such a large and forbidding manservant?
Julia shook herself. A true Cyprian would be preparing to charm the duke, while silently counting the strands of pearls she planned to buy with his money—not musing about his valet. Mrs. Leighton needed to be dazzling, flirtatious, and witty.
Focus,
she admonished silently.
Fitz opened the door and stepped aside to allow her into the palazzo. She crossed the threshold and saw Nick coming down the stairs. Julia was nearly struck dumb by his handsomeness. His ebony hair was wet and slicked back from his face, emphasizing the sleek lines of his cheekbones. He wore no waistcoat, cravat, or coat; instead, a fine white linen shirt covered his lean torso, a small patch of black chest hair peeking out at the top. His trousers and evening shoes were black, making him look impossibly tall and powerful.
And the triumphant, intimate smile he gave her was full of wicked promise. Julia shivered as she handed her pelisse to Fitz.
“My dear Mrs. Leighton,” Nick said, reaching the last step. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Your radiance steals the very breath from my lungs,” he murmured, his voice husky and deep in her ear. He took her hand. “Come with me.”
Nick tucked her close to his side as they went up the stairs. Her knees wobbled slightly, and it was all Julia could do not to turn around and run for the door. But she’d come too far, had too much to lose, to back out now.
They climbed another set of stairs in silence, finally reaching the top floor where Nick threw open a door to reveal his bedchamber.
I can do this. And he will not find me out.
She repeated it to herself again and again for courage as she strode inside.
Across from a small table and two chairs sat his enormous bed. Very enormous bed. Her feet stumbled a bit and he caught her elbow, steadying her.
“I thought you might like to have a drink first,” he said. “Do you care for almonds? They make a flavored liqueur not far from here that is quite delicious.”
Julia nodded and took a seat. Nick poured a small glass of light brown liquid for each of them and then handed one to her. He sat opposite, his gaze never wavering from her face as he settled in the chair, his long legs now stretched out in front of him. “Well?”
She took a sip, surprised at the sweet flavor. “It’s nice,” she said, tipping the glass for another swallow.
Though his posture was relaxed, she could sense Nick’s anticipation in the clenching of his jaw, the straight set of his shoulders. He was a big jungle cat, patiently waiting to pounce on her. The thought was both terrifying and thrilling.
Half-lidded, dark gray eyes studied her face. “Are you nervous?”
Julia shook her head, though her heart was racing. “No,” she lied. “Merely curious.” She drained the rest of her glass, and warmth spread through her bones. The nerves began to dissipate, and the soft glow of the spirits gave her courage.
“Well, then, we must see to satisfying your curiosity.” He held out his hand. She stood up and moved to stand in front of his chair, where she removed the glass from his hands and set it on the table.
Before she could do anything else, he clasped her waist and tugged her down to sit across his lap. He wrapped one arm tightly around her middle, securing her in place, while his free hand slid up to bury in her hair. Their faces were close, so close she could feel his breath, now coming every bit as ragged as hers. His erection lay beneath her, hard and urgent despite the layers of clothes between them. The proof of his desire thrilled her. Encouraged her. She stared at him boldly, her skin tingling, and waited.
His smoky gaze flicked to her lips. Unconsciously, the tip of her tongue emerged to moisten them and his grip tightened. “Witch,” he murmured, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his own. The instant his lips claimed hers, the desire simmering between them exploded into something wild. Then he deepened the kiss, turning her head slightly to adjust the angle, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the room spun. She dug her nails into Nick’s shoulders in an attempt to brace herself in the onslaught of sensation.
He coaxed and stroked, his hot, wet tongue like velvet against hers, and she couldn’t focus on anything but his kiss. Nothing existed but this wickedly charming man and what he was doing with his mouth. She rubbed her breasts, now swollen with need, against the hard planes of his chest in a desperate attempt to ease the ache inside her.
Nick’s hand glided over her knee, under her dress, along her stockings, until he reached her bare thigh. His fingers played there, on her naked skin, dancing and teasing, while his mouth kept up the assault on her senses. Her sex burned, and she knew he would find her hot and slick if he reached a bit higher. Her own tentative explorations of her body hadn’t felt anything like
this.
No, this was so much more, more than she’d ever thought possible—and still, it wasn’t enough.
Her hips tilted toward his exploring fingers, searching, begging for him. Nick moved his lips to her throat, nipping and kissing the sensitive skin. “I had thought to make you beg,” he whispered by her ear as his hand crept north, “but God’s truth, I’ll be on my knees in another few minutes, promising anything if you’ll just allow me to touch you.”
“Touch me, please,” she said, clutching him tighter.
He reached the apex of her thighs, his fingers sliding through the wet folds to find the heat of her, and she gasped. His touch was gentle, placed exactly where she craved it most.
“So wet for me,” he murmured. “Say my name. Say who has made you so warm and wet, Juliet.” The tip of his finger circled the tiny sensitive nub, stroking it and sending her arousal soaring. Clothing around her waist, Julia’s stocking-clad legs were splayed open on his lap, offering no resistance. She’d ceased caring how wanton she looked. “Say it, my dear,” he ordered.
“Nick,” she sighed, then inhaled sharply as he slid one finger into her entrance. He kissed her then, hard and deep, his tongue finding hers. Julia could hardly think, hardly breathe as he teased her, his finger moving in and out of her body to drive her higher. She broke away from his mouth, her head falling back, panting, as the pleasure built.
“My God, you’re tight,” he whispered against her throat. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her. “I cannot wait a moment more.” Grasping her waist, he lifted her to straddle him, the heat of her directly over his erection. Julia grabbed his shoulders, steadied herself, too mindless to do anything except fight for breath as Nick reached between them to unbutton his trousers.
Before she had time to think, his shaft sprang free and nudged her opening. He held the base with one hand and brought her hips down with the other, the pleasure mixing with pain as he worked his way in her body.
He swore through clenched teeth, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. “So tight. So good. It’s so bloody good.”
The deeper he pushed, the more Julia fought to stay relaxed. She knew if she tensed up, he would not be able to enter her easily. And the last thing she wanted was for him to realize this was her first time. Inhaling steadily, she ran her hands down his chest, feeling the sinewy muscles under his light shirt to distract herself from the increasing pain between her legs.
Pearl had said to get it over with quickly, for the shaft to pierce the maidenhead as fast as possible. Then perhaps Nick wouldn’t notice its presence. So gripping his shoulders and taking a deep breath for courage, Julia dropped her hips down as hard as she could, seating herself fully on him. The pain snapped through her as he filled her completely, but she tried to mask it with a groan of what she hoped sounded like pleasure.
Nick seemed not to notice. He groaned as well, his head dropping back on the chair as his fingers tightened on her hips. “Oh, hell, Juliet. What are you trying to do to me?”
God, it had
hurt
. But it was done—and he hadn’t noticed. Julia felt a surge of triumph, a roar of feminine power at the success. Now the pain was receding, just as Pearl said it would, and a strange new sensation, one of delicious fullness, dawned. She flexed her hips, and lust rippled through her cleft as Nick’s cock slid out and then back inside her.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, eyes closed and face taut with pleasure. “Ride me,
tesorina
.”
Desperate to feel the mind-numbing desire again, Julia lifted herself up and came back down, her hips working to thrust his shaft deep. He guided her movements at first, helping her rock back and forth, and the pleasure began to build as she moved faster. His hands skated along her back to the fastenings of her dress, and he soon loosened the top enough so only her chemise covered her breasts.
Her large bosom had been a bane her whole life; dressmakers constantly complained about the reworking of patterns to amply cover her. And Julia had always envied the silhouettes of the thin, flat-chested women who looked so elegant and regal in their high-waist dresses. In comparison, she felt heavy and clumsy, constantly trying to keep a shawl around her décolletage for propriety.
But the way Nick stared at her now, as he slid her lace chemise down to reveal her bare breasts, Julia wouldn’t change a thing about her body. His gaze, so reverent and full of heat, scorched her and her nipples tightened almost painfully. She arched her back as her hips flexed once more over his shaft, which caused ripples of ecstasy to travel the length of her body. His hands cupped her breasts. “You are like a goddess, straight from the depths of my dreams,” he murmured before drawing one nipple into his mouth.
His lips pulled intently on one tight bud and a burst of sensation raced through her belly to settle in her womb. Her hips moved faster of their own accord, her body reveling in the pleasure caused by both his mouth and his shaft. Nick used his tongue to lave at one nipple then shifted quickly to the other in order to give it the same attention. Julia could feel her muscles tightening, every nerve straining as the pleasure increased. He continued to draw on her nipple with his lips, and she threaded her fingers through his hair to hold his head in place. Each pull of his mouth had her spiraling higher and higher, her hips thrusting harder on his cock, until she thought she would die. It was too wonderful.
Nick reached down between them and used his thumb to stroke the tiny bundle of nerves atop her sex. Once, twice, and then she exploded, a white-hot charge setting off inside her. “Nick,” she moaned, his name stretched out into one long word as her body convulsed around him. She barely noticed when he grasped her hips and took over, bringing her down on him with a near-violent force. He stiffened, a groan escaping from deep in his chest, as he shuddered and poured himself into her.
Breathless and sweaty, she dropped her head onto his shoulder. Heavens, that was better than anything Pearl had described. No wonder men did this at every available opportunity.
“My God,” Nick wheezed. “I hadn’t thought to first take you in a chair.” He pushed her hair back from her face in a gentle caress. “I don’t know what came over me. You must think me a complete cad.”
She almost smiled. Yes, she knew him to be a complete cad—but not for the reasons he thought. “I believe you were as caught up in what happened between us as I,” she murmured. She needed to get up, to wash herself off and check for blood, but couldn’t make herself move just yet. Nick was still inside her, and Julia wanted to prolong the contact as long as possible.
His large hands stroked her back, and she relaxed into him. She’d just made love to her
husband
. The idea seemed so ludicrous, Julia had to swallow a laugh. And it had been magnificent. Truthfully, she couldn’t wait to repeat the performance.
He shifted, trying to get out from beneath her. “Here,
cara
. Let me get a cloth and clean you.”
Julia stiffened. He could do no such thing, since he might discover blood on either of them. “No, no. Please, Your Grace,” she cooed and pushed him back down into the chair. “Close your eyes and relax. Allow me to clean you.” She kissed him lightly in the hopes of securing his acquiescence.
“You know I hate my title,” he murmured, his lashes falling against his cheeks. “But thank God you do not want me to get up because I’m not sure I have the use of my legs just yet.”
She kissed him again, unable to help herself, before getting out of the chair and pulling her dress up to cover her breasts. The washstand stood across the room, where she found a cloth and fresh water. Ensuring his eyes remained closed she turned to check the insides of her thighs. Sure enough, a small streak of blood smeared her skin. Quickly, she swiped at it to remove the evidence of her maidenhead off her body. Once that was done, she rinsed the cloth and returned to Nick.
Sprawled in the chair, still fully clothed except for his semi-flaccid manhood, he was the most handsome thing she’d ever seen. The planes of his face were slack, less guarded. His black hair tousled, he appeared roguish, more like the devil she knew him to be.
She gently washed him, fascinated by the transformation in his shaft. Pearl had shown her drawings and even insisted Julia hold a wooden phallus. But this was different. No longer as stiff as before, the smooth, pink skin was soft yet surprisingly firm. With every stroke of the cloth, it seemed to twitch under her ministrations, thickening again.