Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage

rubbed him up and down while he groaned.

“Let me make you feel good, Kate. Let go.”

She squeezed him again, and he shuddered but she did let him go, reluctantly, but only because she didn’t know what else she could do if he refused to allow her to remove his breeches.

And God help her, she wanted to see what else he was about to do to make her feel good.

His breathing slowed and his finger came back to play with her again, and she shuddered. He pushed his finger inside of her and slowly removed it, again and again. Her head moved back and forth fitfully on the cushions of the sofa. He watched her face, his eyes smoldering.

She clutched at his shoulders. “James, please.”

He moved back down her body and the tip of his tongue returned to lick her in the spot that made her eyes roll back in her head. She begged him, pleaded with him, felt his strong jaw moving against her, possessing her.

“Kate, just let go,” he whispered huskily, his breath a hot brand against her thigh.

His finger entered her again and stroked unfailingly. He moved the tip of his finger inside her and touched her in a place that made her toes curl and her thighs quiver. “Oh God. James!” Kate shuddered, and her entire body exploded into a mass of shuddering ecstasy. Whatever that man had done, wherever he was touching, it was a spot so perfect it made her want to cry. She rode a wave of shimmering perfection, clinging to his shoulders, holding him, while she cried out his name.

It was several moments before Kate returned to earth. James had just made her feel something beyond extraordinary. She bit her lip. James Bancroft, it seemed, was gifted at more things than just printing presses and perfection. And on the subject of perfection. Now that had been perfect.

But for some unknown reason, she couldn’t stop the tears that pooled in her eyes. “James,” she whispered, as he held her and then helped her to retrieve her gown and right her clothing.

“Yes, Kate?”

“That was … amazing.”

He smiled at that.

“It makes me sad though…”

His head snapped around to face her and he must have seen the tears in her eyes. “Are you unhappy, Kate? Did I hurt you?” He looked so earnest and worried that her heart wrenched.

“No. No, of course not. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt. But I…” She clenched her jaw. Oh God, how could she bring herself to say this to him?

“What? What is it, Kate?”

“It’s just that … with George I never…” She glanced away. “I never experienced anything like that and I…”

He nodded and clasped her hand. “Yes?”

She steeled her resolve and closed her eyes. She would just have to come out with it. “It just makes me think you’ve been with a great many women to have learned how to do that, and that thought makes me sad for some reason.”

His soft laughter made her crack open one eye to look at him. “What’s funny?”

“A gentleman never tells, of course, and I’m not about to discuss such subjects with you, but let’s just say I’m hardly a rake, Kate.”

She shook her head and searched his face. “You aren’t?”

“No. Not at all.”

“But how did you know how to—” Oh, that was it. Her face was probably mottled purple by now.

She’d already pulled on her gown again, and he’d refastened the buttons in the back. She was busily smoothing her skirts when he glanced at her.

“I admit I have some experience, of course, but quality is always better than quantity as far as I’m concerned,” he said with a wink.

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “But Lord Colton and Lord Ashbourne are your good friends, and their reputations—” She twisted her hands together. She couldn’t bring herself to say more.

He arched a brow. “Let’s just say there are many things Colton and Ashbourne and I do not have in common, and rakishness happens to be one of them.”

She bit her lip. “I know that I don’t have any right to be jealous of the other women you’ve known, James. But I am.”

He pulled her close and let her head rest on his shoulder. He stroked her hair and her cheek. “Kate, believe me when I tell you, you have nothing whatsoever to be jealous of.”

Kate smiled against his shoulder. It made no sense, but that statement made her ridiculously happy. And the way he was cradling her made her feel another host of emotions she didn’t want to examine at present.

Oh, she knew she shouldn’t be doing these scandalous things with him in the library or anywhere else for that matter, but she’d enjoyed and adored every single moment of it. She’d like to do it again, actually. Though she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. She wanted him to make love to her. Be her lover. She could admit that to herself now. And she would tell James too. When the time was right. But he’d barely allowed her to touch him tonight, and she doubted he’d break all his self-imposed rules and make love to her. For now. But she intended to make it difficult for him to resist.

The man was a master of all things, and he certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. Good God, what he’d made her feel. She could weep now just thinking about it. Oh, how she longed to spend the entire day in bed with him. She smiled to herself. She’d heard stories about women who greatly enjoyed their marital rights. But they seemed more like characters out of folklore to her. Lies told to unsuspecting brides to make their wedding night seem less ghastly, or stories invented by their mothers to keep them from going out of their minds with worry. But now, now, Kate wondered. Perhaps the right groom could make a wedding night better than the folklore even. And in her case, she hadn’t even needed a groom. She hid her smile behind her hand. She’d asked Lily once whether her pamphlet was true. Secrets of a Wedding Night was all about how horrendous a wedding night could be. It had frightened a great many young women. When Kate had inquired about it, Lily had merely given her an engaging smile and her famous wink and said, “I wrote that before I spent the night with Devon.” It had confused Kate at the time, but now she knew exactly what Lily meant.

Kate’s body was still feeling all sorts of happy little twinges and pings as James helped her right her final bits of clothing and escorted her to her room. She briefly thought about trying to invite him into her bedchamber but decided against it. She had been scandalous enough today, no use courting more trouble. Yet. Instead, she sighed, and slipped through the door, humming a tune she hadn’t hummed since she was eighteen.

“Good night,” she murmured, turning back to James and giving him a sly look over one shoulder. It was official, that man was too handsome for his own good. And so, so good at … ahem … things.

* * *

After James saw Kate safely to her bedchamber, he made his way to his own room, cursing himself mentally in five different languages. His cock was throbbing unmercifully. He might just explode in his breeches. He hadn’t felt like this since he was … a lad, damn it. What the hell was he doing? Very well. It was obvious that he could not. Could. Not. Keep his hands off that woman. He shouldn’t even try. He wanted her with a madness he had no idea how to combat. His every thought was consumed by her now that he’d touched her so intimately, tasted her, watched her beautiful perfect face as she’d come … Oh God, he couldn’t help himself. He was going to make love to her if she stayed under his roof. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Especially not if she tried to touch him again. It had taken every single ounce of self-control he possessed to keep her from unbuttoning his breeches and grasping his naked cock. And oh God, he’d wanted her to. Really wanted her to. He ached now just thinking about it. He needed a bloody cold bath. He needed a good bout at fencing. No. He needed to lose himself between her perfect pale thighs.

Damn it. What he needed to do was get her finished pamphlet and keep his distance. Some lunacy had just forced him to admit to her what compelled him. He did want to fix everything. Every bloody injustice in the world. Right every wrong. Make up for the one thing he could never fix. He squeezed his eyes shut. But damn it, he might not be able to fix this. Even if Kate were innocent, Abernathy would have to prove it, just like she’d said. And the evidence against her was overwhelming. She might well be going to her death in a matter of days, and what sort of a bloody cad took liberties with a woman who was about to die? He’d never forgive himself.