Chapter 43
A Donna Creates a Rogue
Later that night
Having finished his grappa and determined there was nothing more to be said about his intent to marry Vittoria, David was about to make his way up the stairs when he heard his name spoken in an urgent whisper.
He glanced back down the corridor to discover Vittoria standing in front of the library.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Waiting for you. Nikky said we can use the library. For privacy,” she whispered.
David’s brows arched in surprise. “Does she think I’m going to—?”
“So we can talk,” Vittoria interrupted.
David’s look of relief was almost comical. “Of course,” he said, holding out his hand to indicate she should proceed him. Once he was inside, he carefully closed the door, aware the other men were making their way out of the dining room and to the parlor to collect their ladies.
The carpet beneath his feet seemed to swallow up any sound, and he silently thanked his sister-by-marriage for having suggested they meet here.
Although one of the sconces was lit on the front wall, the room seemed dark, especially toward the back where a set of sofas and chairs were arranged in front of the fireplace.
Vittoria took a seat on the large sofa and patted the cushion next to her.
David accepted the invitation, wrapping an arm around the back of her shoulders once he was seated.
He was surprised Vittoria settled her head against his upper arm. “Does this mean you’re accepting my offer of marriage?”
She nodded. “Everyone seems very happy for us,” she murmured.
David gave a start, realizing the women’s reactions must have been quite different from the men’s. “My brother is over the moon,” he said with a chuckle.
“When I left the parlor, Nikky was crying. Tears of joy.”
“Donald told me she’s been planning this match for a long time.”
“Two years.”
He chuckled softly and leaned over to kiss the side of her head.
“I’m not going to do anything to make your life more difficult,” he vowed. “I want what you want.”
Vittoria lifted her head from his arm and regarded him with surprise. “What is it you think I want?”
He dipped his head. “A husband who cares for you. Who will provide protection, so you don’t have to defend yourself. A place to live—we’ll have a townhouse in London. You’ll have blunt for the modiste and other shopping.” He paused. “And apparently some sheep.”
She playfully slapped his arm. “I don’t need more sheep.”
“Ah, but if we had them, we could sell the wool to Mr. McAdams,” he said, taking one of her hands in his to kiss her palm.
She inhaled softly. “I accept.”
He leaned over and captured her lips with his, kissing her until they both needed to come up for air. When her eyes darkened and her manner grew serious, David furrowed his brows. “What is it?” he asked in a whisper.
“If I wanted you to be a rogue now, would you?”
He stared at her in disbelief. “I’m not sure I know how.”
She arched a brow. “Surely you know how to...” She pointed down to his crotch. “Perform sexual congress?”
His mouth rounding into an ‘o’, David stared at her in shock. “I... I suppose I do,” he finally replied. Apparently his manhood did, because it was suddenly doing its best to escape his pantaloons. “Are you asking me to make love to you? Right now?”
She lifted a shoulder. “If we’re to be married within a fortnight, then I would prefer to know what I’m to do on my wedding night,” she said.
David swallowed. “Oh. So much for you being raised as a sheltered young lady,” he murmured.
“Nikky said that in England, betrothed couples always make love before they are wed,” she claimed.
“Did she now?” he countered. He glanced around. “You wish to do it here?”
She nodded and stood from the sofa, standing so her back was turned to him. “If it’s all right with you, I would like to keep my... I’m not sure whats it’s called in English... but you can take off the corset.”
David furrowed a brow as he rose to his feet.
“If I’m to remove your corset, then I’ll be removing your gown and all your petticoats,” he reasoned, undoing the buttons down her back.
The mere act had his breath catching when the nape of her neck was exposed.
He used the tip of a finger to push away the tiny hairs that formed a ‘v’, and he placed a kiss there.
She inhaled softly as her entire body shook in his hold. “That tickles,” she whispered, although she was grinning when she said it.
“It’s rather likely we’ll create a good deal of noise,” he warned.
“Noise?” she repeated, turning in his arms to face him.
He watched as her bodice seemed to free itself from her bosom and slide down.
When he stepped back, the heavy gown slipped down her body to land in a puddle at his feet.
He swallowed. “I have spent the past year overhearing my cousins make love to their wives,” he whispered. “At night and in the mornings—”
“The mornings?” she repeated in awe.
“Yes, and they’re quite... loud about it.”
Her eyes rounded. “So the ladies like what their men are doing to them?”
He nodded. “Well, yes,” he hedged.
“Then do that to me,” she said.
David let out his breath in a whoosh. “You’re sure?” He waved to the velvet-clad sofa. “Here?”
She nodded.
“I cannot believe this is happening,” he whispered, turning her around to undo the ties of her petticoats.
“You did not expect I would wish to be bedded?” she asked, stepping out of the garments that had dropped to the floor. She bent down and gathered them into her arms before dropping them in a heap on a nearby chair.
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Two nights ago, you were squeezing the balls of a man who wanted to perform this very same act with you.” His gaze dropped to her torso, where her corset displayed a pair of rising moons that had his manhood doing the same.
“He only wanted to marry me for my dowry,” she countered, reaching to undo the buttons of his top coat and waistcoat.
Deciding he may as well do her bidding, David kicked off his shoes and went to work on the knot of his cravat. “So... just so I understand, you never felt affection for him?”
For a moment, Vittoria looked as if she had been slapped across the face.
“When I was younger, I imagined we would one day marry. I would have lots of babies, and he would be a doting father, and he would never share another woman’s bed,” she whispered.
“But then I grew up, and I learned he had lots of lovers, and I realized he would always.”
David shook his head as he pulled his cravat from around his neck. “I will be faithful to you and only you,” he promised. “But...”
“What?” she prompted, pushing the coats from his shoulders.
“You cannot take a lover. It would be the death of me,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to see her bare legs beyond the hem of her shift—her stockings ended at the top of her calves.
Below them were the half-boots he had bought for her, a sight he found rather touching.
She should have been wearing dainty slippers.
Her eyes rounding in surprise, Vittoria shook her head. “I would not. I will not,” she assured him.
David wasn’t sure if she was the first to make a move or if it was him, but soon the two were kissing with wild abandon, their hands smoothing down one another’s bodies as he searched for the ties of her corset, and she pulled the shirt from his torso.
Soon they were both free of the garments and falling to the sofa, their bodies pressed together as they continued to kiss.
David moved his lips from hers to her cheek and down her neck as he left a trail of kisses that had her inhaling softly.
His hand cupped a breast through the fabric of her shift, and he felt her nipple pebble.
He soon had his mouth over it, which had her whimpering with need.
His entire body shivered when her fingers speared his hair, her fingernails scraping his scalp.
He wasn’t sure how she managed to push the shift away so her breast was exposed to his ministrations, but he wasn’t about to stop and ask as he suckled and licked her bare nipple. When he moved his attentions to the other, he murmured, “You have the most beautiful breasts, my love.”
“I fear they will grow too large when I have babes,” she whispered. “Like Nikky’s.”
He stopped what he was doing and glanced up at her. “You say that as if you think that is a bad thing,” he commented.
“Isn’t it?”
He guffawed. “No,” he replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, we Slaters prefer our women to have a bit of extra flesh.
” Sliding a hand down the front of her body, he captured the hem of her shift and lifted it to her belly.
Using only a fingertip, he drew circles on her skin, which had her inhaling softly as frissons darted about under her skin.
“You have to tell me what to do,” she whispered.
He slid his hand down between her thighs, his middle finger parting her folds in search of her womanhood.
“Open for me,” he whispered. He kissed her lips at the same moment he circled the tip of his finger around the swollen bud, gently coaxing it from its hiding place as her ambrosia coated his finger. “That’s it, my love,” he whispered.
He swallowed her mewl of pleasure and added two more fingers to rub her in circles, delighting in how her hips angled up. When he inserted a finger into her wet channel, he watched in wonder at how her chest rose in response, how her eyes grew dark with desire. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.
From the way her breathing shortened, he knew she was close to her climax, and he rubbed her womanhood with the edge of his thumb as he inserted another finger into her channel.
Her reaction was immediate, her quiet cry escaping before he could cover her mouth his. When he felt her contractions slow and her body relax beneath his, he slowly pulled his fingers from her and wiped them on his hardened manhood.