Chapter Fifteen
Jessica had just done something utterly outrageous. She had propositioned a man!
A man she would soon marry, yes, but that did not decrease the level of scandal that she had stepped into. What sort of respectable woman went about suggesting that a man should take her to bed?
Jessica watched Reginald’s motionless face and her spirits sank. Even worse, what woman suggested that a man should take her to bed…and then found herself rejected?
“I…ugh…”
It is important, Jessica told herself sternly, not to cry. Crying was going to be absolutely no help in the matter, so it was crucial that she did not cry.
She could cry later. In privacy. Once she had managed to escape to her bedchamber and shut the door behind her, keeping out the world but not the roaring-red-hot embarrassment that she had made such an utter fool of herself.
The trouble was, none of this made sense.
Oh, the awkwardness, the shifting look in his eyes, that was to be expected in any other situation.
Jessica could no longer count on her two hands the number of times that a gentleman had found himself accidentally standing beside her at a ball, desperately trying to find an excuse not to dance with her.
That look, that was almost normal for her. After all, was she not attempting to make him fall in love with her?
But the uncertainty on Reginald’s face? Had he not just said, minutes ago, that he was in love with her? All of this time, she had been working hard to make the dolt fall in love with her and somehow, she had managed it—but he did not want to bed her?
Heat, and shame, and worry rippled across Jessica’s face in burning waves. He loved her, but he was not attracted to her?
“You do not need to explain. I quite understand,” Jessica said softly as she rose from the sofa.
That was, as she attempted to rise from the sofa. Reginald’s hand had reached out, preventing her from properly standing, and when he pulled her back down to sit beside him, there was a serious expression on his face.
“You do not know what you are asking,” he said quietly.
Jessica almost laughed, and there was just a hint of bitterness within it.
“You think I do not know? Reginald, we are to be married and I know enough about the—well, about the theory to know what that entails. I hear things, and my boldest cousins are not exactly discreet when their parents are not within earshot.” Why, oh, why did her face have to blossom with burning crimson now? “But if you do not want to—”
“‘Do not want to’?” There was a strange tone in his voice, one she did not understand. “What do you mean, ‘do not want to’?”
Swallowing did not appear to make her mind move any swifter, though Jessica supposed she should not have been surprised at that, sitting so close to a man with such animal heat, she could almost see it radiating from him.
Reginald’s gaze was flickering over her, as though he were attempting to see right through her. He bit his lip, an unusually hesitant moment from a man who had always been so self-possessed.
Was it possible… Was it even conceivable that he was as nervous as she was?
“It’s not a case of not wanting to,” he said carefully.
“Then what is it?” Jessica leaned forward, taking his hands in hers and trying not to gasp at the sudden influx of passionate heat. “Because I want you, Reginald. I-I want you, and I want you to want me in return.”
“It’s not a case of not wanting you—dear God, I would have taken you the day I met you if I could justify—but this is a huge step for you, Jessica,” Reginald said fiercely, more than a touch of defiance in his words.
“As a gentleman in Society, I give up nothing by taking you to bed, but you? You would be ruined if anyone found out.”
“You are going to marry me, and I will be your wife.” Saying the words aloud shot a flicker of heat through her, but she tried to ignore it, tried to keep her mind on what mattered.
On Reginald.
“Yes. Yes, you are,” he said, and there was something different in his voice now.
Jessica swallowed. There was a look of…of covetousness, of dominance in Reginald’s eyes that she had never seen there before. Of hunger. Of need.
Of desire.
“You are going to marry me, and you will be my wife,” Reginald said slowly, moving forward inch by inch until he was pressing her against the back of the sofa. “You will be mine, Jessica, and I don’t need a piece of paper for that. I am going to take you, right here, right now.”
And then he was kissing her—and though he had kissed her before, and she had enjoyed every single one, there was something new about this kiss. Something in the way his lips possessed her own, how his fingers sparked heat across her arms…
Jessica closed her eyes and lost herself to the kiss, to him, to Reginald. She had lost herself to him days ago, weeks ago, though she had not known it at the time.
The tendrils of heat sparked by his kisses were pouring through her and Jessica whimpered with pleasure as Reginald brushed a loose curl away from her forehead with a hand that swiftly moved to her breast.
She arched into him.
Oh, it was wanton, but she couldn’t stop herself. The gentlest brush of his thumb over her skin was enough to inflame her and she wanted more—more than she could get with all these darn clothes on.
It was a scandalous thought, but it was hers, and she knew what she wanted.
“Jessica,” Reginald moaned, his lips releasing her for a moment, but only long enough to utter her name.
She did not permit him to waste any more time. Jessica’s fingers scraped the nape of his neck as she pulled him back down, finding herself almost lying on the sofa now as Reginald pressed over her.
It was thrilling, to be so enclosed by the feel of him, the strength and the determination of him. Sensual delight was rippling through her and Jessica could only gasp as Reginald’s hand—
Reginald’s hand!
Jessica broke the kiss. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll stop, if you want me to,” murmured Reginald, pressing a kiss just under her ear before starting to trail down her neck. “But I don’t think you’ll want to.”
She squirmed underneath his touch. It was hard to deny that the gentle caresses just inside her thigh felt…wonderful. As though the hot ache between her thighs were leading somewhere delightful. As though the pleasure promised would indeed be worth the risk.
Glancing at the door, Jessica looked back at the man she loved. “Touch me, then.”
It appeared the man did not need an additional invitation. Before she could say another word, Jessica yelped, her cry of surprise swallowed by another passionate kiss, as Reginald’s fingers traveled upward and stroked her curls.
Oh, dear God.
It was more than sensuality. There wasn’t a word for this: this intensity as one of his fingers slowly caressed down the slit of her secret place. She was wet, dripping, even, but Reginald did not appear to mind.
If anything, he was pleased.
His murmurs continued. “God, you feel so good, so ready—you want me, don’t you?”
“Y-Yes.” It was extravagant to admit it, but how could she lie when the evidence was quite literally at his fingertips? “I—oh!”
Jessica’s back arched, pressing herself forward, impaling herself onto Reginald’s fingers—but she wanted it, she wanted him deeper, for the merest hint of his digits within her sparked such a wave of bliss that stars appeared in the corners of her eyes.
Oh, how her cousins had boasted, but no one had ever told her that it could be like this!
Reginald was still kissing her, his mouth not ceasing its tender ministrations as his fingers stroked bliss into her very core, and Jessica could do nothing but cling on to the man who was giving her such hedonism, such sensations.
“Let go,” whispered the man she loved, bringing his mouth to hers. “I love you, Jessica, I love you—take it all, take it all from me…”
Jessica whimpered, kissing him back furiously as her fingers dug into Reginald’s shoulders just as his thumb entered her, gently circling that delicate nub inside her and—
She exploded. Every single inch of her burst into frantic ecstasy, her whole body shaking, her mind utterly lost in the wash of unadulterated bliss that rippled through her and ripped a cry from her that Reginald quickly stifled with a passionate kiss.
On and on it went, and Jessica thought she would surely suffocate, it was so impossible to draw a breath, until the waves started to subside and her body twitched with the remembrance of utter decadence.
When Jessica managed to open her eyes, it was to see Reginald looking down with a delighted smile.
“I’ve wanted to do that to you,” he whispered, eyes aglow, “since I kissed you against the wall in the portrait gallery.”
Trying not to think about just how many paintings she would have accidentally knocked over if he had done such a thing, Jessica said the first thing that came into her mind. “I will never be able to sit on this sofa again without thinking of you.”
Which apparently had been the right thing to say.
Reginald’s eyes darkened, just for a moment. The passion they clearly shared blossomed in his face, then he said gruffly, “Good. Ready for more?”
There surely could not be more—he was jesting with her, wasn’t he? Oh, Jessica knew that what they had just shared wasn’t the typical encounter for a man and wife… But then, if that was just one of the ways that two people could enjoy each other…
“‘More’?” she echoed.
Reginald did not reply but merely grinned a wicked expression and rose to his feet. He held out a hand. “Come with me.”
It was dashed difficult to walk, something that Jessica had not expected. Her legs appeared to be made of jelly, her knees in particular struggling to hold her weight.
Reginald grinned as she reached out swiftly and grabbed his arm to steady her. “That is the highest praise you could offer me.”
Jessica shot him a look. “Is this going to last a while?”