Chapter Forty
Max felt the blood roar in his ears. It wasn’t from lust. He’d felt overwhelming desire for Yihui for weeks now. But this was the first time he had heard her say the word, love. And more importantly, that was the first time he’d heard a woman say such a thing to him and really mean it.
The word was overused by the younger set, never used once past the blush of youth in the older set, and roundly scoffed at by those inside his own circle. And yet, when she said it, he felt it all the way to his soul.
And once felt, he could not stop himself. He kissed her. He drew her mouth to his and then thrust inside. He licked her, he tasted her, and he thoroughly enjoyed possessing this one part of her body.
When he pulled back, her eyes were dazed. He couldn’t stop touching her, so even as he pulled back, he kept a hand on her cheek before letting it slide down her neck. A small shift would have him cupping her breast, but he held back.
“Yihui—” he groaned. An honorable man would leave her. He would not take what he did not intend to marry.
“I will not beg,” she said. “I am a free woman, and I can give what I want to whomever I want.”
And she chose him. The magnitude of that humbled him. How could he not give her what she wanted?
Suddenly decided, he turned to the neighborhood at large and released a loud whistle. Shadows moved around them. Street boys were always around, especially in this area of town.
“A quid to the one who takes the pony—”
A shadow resolved into a dirty freckled boy. “Where’s it belong, guv?” the child asked.
He gave directions, tossed the boy a coin, then added, “They’ll give you supper, too, if you ask nice.”
Then he scooped Yihui off Blue and started carrying her inside. She’d always felt tiny to him with small bones and small breasts, but holding her like this stirred his senses to a fever pitch. Every part of her was exquisite and he was going to enjoy learning every hill and valley of her body.
“You’re never going to see that pony again,” she said against his ear. “He’s going to sell it—”
“He won’t. Ponies are harder to sell than you think, and the boys know the value of a generous benefactor.”
He slowed as he turned a corner and began climbing the stairs, but he couldn’t wait until he got to the top.
He leaned back against the wall to steady himself and her in his arms, then he proceeded to kiss her.
Her arms were wrapped around his shoulder.
She could have pushed away at any moment, but she didn’t.
She tightened her hold on him, she pressed her breasts against his chest. And she took him as thoroughly as he took her.
It made no logical sense. His tongue was inside her mouth.
But the way she played with him made him feel like both the conqueror and the conquered.
And if his footing wasn’t in question, he might have taken her right here against the wall.
Instead, he carried her to her bedroom.
It was a simple room, especially by his standards. She had a bed, a stool, and a table for a wash basin. Not even a wardrobe for her clothing. As he slowly lowered her to the bed, he couldn’t help but imagine her in his bed, in his home, as his duchess.
“You deserve so much more,” he said as he looked around.
She pulled his face back to hers. “And what would I do with more? I would need to hire a servant to care for my clothing and clean the furniture.” She nipped at his nose. “You are spoiled with so much.”
He couldn’t disagree. “Not enough of what I need,” he said as he kissed along her jaw. She lifted her chin and whispered her delight.
He was still trying to convince himself to leave when he unbuttoned her dress. Part of his mind told him this was the last kiss. Or this one. Or that one. He could still keep his honor if he stopped now.
He did not stop. Not with her shivering at his every caress.
Or with the way she gripped his shoulders and ran her knee up along his flank.
Her dress was yellow silk that he did not want to rip, but the buttons frustrated him.
They were on her back while his tongue was drawing circles along her front.
Still, he managed it. He pulled her upright, then kissed her neck as he undid her buttons. And as her bodice loosened and fell away, he was stymied by the most serviceable stays he had ever seen. Rough linen bound tight. He had seen horses with looser harnesses.
“What is this?” he asked as he stared at the hard fabric.
She chuckled. “Proof that no one goes where I do not wish them to.”
“How do you breathe?”
“How do you?” She tugged at his cravat until the knot all but choked him.
He pulled it off, shedding his coat and waistcoat in very quick order. She watched him, her eyes bright in the dusky moonlight. But he wanted to see all of her, so he lit the candle by her bedside and despaired that she had so little in her tiny room.
“Come back to the house,” he said. “You will be more comfortable.”
“This is where I work, this is where I will live after I have thrown you over. Why get me used to luxuries that I cannot have?”
He winced. He could tell by her tone that she missed what he could offer. Soft sheets, servants at every turn, and light. Candlelight on her skin, moonlight in her hair, starlight in her eyes. He wasn’t making sense, even in his own mind, but she took his breath away.
Her expression softened. “I cannot stand. Can you help me undress? I don’t want to crush the silk.”
The dress had gathered around her waist, a pool of yellow in which goldfish swam.
He crossed to her and wrapped an arm around her ribs above the gown.
She held on to him and let him lift. With wriggles—and a few giggles—they managed to set the silk aside.
He folded it carefully as he placed it on the stool.
She had so little, he did not want to damage anything of hers.
“Millie will come tomorrow,” she said. “She will bring me whatever gown your mother wants me to wear and take this one back. I think Emmaline will still be able to wear it, if she wants.”
“The gowns are yours,” he said. It was the least he could give her.
“And what would an apothecary do with a silk gown except get it stained?”
He had no answer. He hated the idea that soon she would be out of his life, that she would have no need for fine things. And while he stood there, thinking that he had to find a way to change that, she carefully untied her very serviceable stays and set them aside.
There was a tiny bow holding her shift together. It sat low between her two breasts. And as he stood there, she pulled at the ribbons and let the fabric part all the way to her belly.
His throat went dry looking at her. Such ripe perfection.
She no longer seemed small to him but exquisitely formed and lusciously female.
He walked to her, his mind and body filled with the sight of her.
She reached up, the shift in the fabric teasing his sight with the full swell of her breasts, but it denied him a view of her nipple.
“Won’t you take this off as well?” she asked, tugging at his shirt.
He stripped it off without thinking. Then he knelt on the hard floor before her. Slowly he tugged the shift down her arms, watching with hunger as the fabric caught for a moment on the points of her breasts, and then fell free.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured.
“As are you,” she answered. She touched his chest and stroked her fingers through the hair. Then with a quick twist of her fingers, she pinched his nipple.
Fire shot through his already throbbing body, and he caught her wrist with a surprised gasp. “Someone taught you that,” he said.
“I brought medicines to whores.” She smiled. “You think I never asked questions?”
“I think I should never be surprised by you, and yet I constantly am.”
She frowned. “Does that upset you?”
He chuckled. “That delights me.” He caught her chin and pulled her close for a kiss. “And now, perhaps we shall see if I can find something you don’t know.”
She laughed as he pressed her down, and he was surprised at how wonderful the sound was.
He had heard it so little before, but like the whimsy on her gown, Yihui was rediscovering her joy.
And with her laughter came his. He chuckled as he nipped at her shoulder.
He smiled as he ran his teeth across her collarbone.
And then he reveled in the shape and feel of her breasts.
He kissed them, he kneaded them, and he returned her pinch a dozen times over while she gasped and arched.
She was not a silent lover. No need to be in the empty building. And he liked listening to her as he teased her breasts and kissed down her belly. He could smell her scent here, strong and earthy. An alluring brew he could not refuse.
Easy to slip her shift past her bottom and away. She wore no stockings. They wouldn’t fit over the plaster that surrounded her feet. And so now she was naked except for her casts, and he was at last able to do one of the things he had dreamed about.
He spread her legs.
“Max.”
He spread her honey with his fingers.
“Max!”
His name wasn’t a command or even a call for attention. It was shock as she experienced something new.
He grinned. “There is more,” he said. Then he tasted her. He stroked his tongue into her curls, he pushed it into her deepest recess, and then he began the long exploration to her nub.
Her legs were on his shoulders as he lifted her up for his feast. Her cries were no longer words. And as he stretched her with his fingers, thrusting deep inside, his tongue danced faster and faster.
Her body went tight beneath him.
Soon…
Now.
Her body bucked. She cried out, the sound pure delight. And best of all, he was able to watch her fly into bliss.