Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“I…I…” Cordelia tried, but the feelings were building and she recognized the pulse of an orgasm almost at its peak.
Justin was meeting her thrusts from below, but his hands were still clamped on her hips, making sure her increasingly uneven movements would not disrupt them.
He was getting close too, she could tell.
His head was thrown back, and his eyes were screwed shut.
But soon her own vision blurred, her toes curling as she got closer and closer.
Suddenly, her orgasm peaked. Shuddering, Justin clamped his mouth over hers to swallow her scream of pleasure.
He continued to pump into her as she felt the spasms wrack her body.
But it was hardly long enough. As soon as it began to ebb, Justin lifted her body off of his.
With one stroke of his hand, he spilled into the sheets.
Cordelia’s heart was racing. She thought she must have looked a fright, with her hair partially unbound and corset askew. But she didn’t care; in fact, she couldn’t really think of anything except a perfect calm that settled over her.
What happened? she wanted to ask. Instead, she held her tongue, pulling up part of the coverlet as her skin cooled off.
Justin looked over at her, his chest heaving.
“That was…” she began, but stopped short.
“I know,” he replied.
They were both silent for a few moments. Whether they were collectively shocked or relishing the afterglow of pleasure, Cordelia wasn’t sure.
“I think I understand why empires have risen and fallen over this,” she found herself saying.
Justin immediately grinned, gathering her in his arms and flipping her around, so expertly she didn’t have a moment to protest. He pressed her into the mattress and kissed her. He chuckled, and Cordelia liked the rumbling it produced against her chest.
“Intoxicating, isn’t it?” he said.
“Especially when it’s like that,” Cordelia added.
“If you enjoyed that, I have a hundred other ideas for what we can try.”
“Surely not!”
Justin raised his eyebrows. “I assure you, my lady, I take this very seriously.”
Cordelia giggled. “Well, you are a most excellent teacher. I’d be willing to suffer a few more of your lessons if they produce similar results.”
Justin laughed at that, brushing a curl away from her face. He cupped her cheek, his gaze becoming more serious. “Have you had any more time to think of what I asked you that day, in the vicarage?”
The question felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. Cordelia struggled to sit up, but Justin’s body stopped her. “Must we do this now?” she asked, sighing heavily.
“When else would you like to?” he asked.
“Preferably when we’re both clothed.”
“Cordelia,” Justin said, his tone becoming more impatient.
Cordelia swallowed, trying to rid herself of a lump that had risen to her throat. She was flushing again, but for a different reason. “Well,”’ she began, trying to find the right words. “Rhys has also made an offer for me.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “I expected as much.”
“But,” Cordelia said, “I haven’t given him an answer.”
Justin retained the same expression in his face, though she could have sworn she saw his jaw unclench a little.
“He’s also offered to purchase Hollyhead House, as a wedding gift to me.”
“Has he? Sly bastard.”
“I beg pardon!” Cordelia said. While he was momentarily distracted, Cordelia sat up, hiking up the stiff material of her corset so it once again covered her breasts.
Justin didn’t reply. Instead, he ran a hand through his thick, mussed hair.
Cordelia busied herself by sliding back into her day frock. She did up the buttons, watching his face the entire time.
“And what if I offered to keep Hollyhead?” Justin asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia said. “You’ve told me multiple times you have no wish for it.”
“Well,” he said. “The estate is broke, and we’d be living like paupers while I sacked off a paying job and burned through my life savings. Yet you think Rhys will make a better living for you here?”
“I wouldn’t have to give up my life. Hollyhead is all I’ve ever known.”
“Perhaps you should come to London with me,” Justin suggested. “I’d be able to show you a good time. Think of all the things we could get up to in a city that never sleeps.”
His intimation caused Cordelia’s stomach to flutter. “Oh no, that would never do. I can’t stand London.”
“Can’t stand London?” he parroted in disbelief. “It’s the beating heart of this country!”
Cordelia scoffed, walking over to the dressing table to fix her hair. “The poets and gentry know that England’s true gem is her countryside. I fail to see how you could overlook such beauty! Give me rolling hills and endless sky any day!”
“Couldn’t you trade that in for culture and conversation? Good food and parties? What about brushing shoulders with great minds?” Justin said, his cockney accent coming out thicker than before. “You haven’t seen my London yet, love. You might like it.”
The thought was tempting to her, but she brushed it away. “See? This is why we shouldn’t marry. It would be a disaster. I would always be holed up in the country, and you wouldn’t be able to leave your beloved London.”
Justin smiled but was undeterred. “At most, it would keep us interested in one another.”
“At worst, we’d come to resent each other.”
“Always the worst scenario with you, Lia?” he replied.
“There are no more scenarios. I am going to accept Rhys, Justin. It’s the right thing to do. For everyone,” she said. Cordelia glanced at his reflection in the mirror behind her, trying to detect if he was disappointed. Instead, the corners of his mouth had turned up.
“Have you told him yet?” he asked.
“No,” she said, sticking a pin between her teeth as she twisted a thick section of hair, setting it at the top of her head. “We should announce it at the ball next week. Of course, I will need your permission. And he will need to ask you for my hand, since technically I am your ward.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Justin said in a low voice.
Cordelia swiveled on her chair to look at him, pin still poised between her lips. “I would thoroughly suggest you grant it. Like I said, this marriage would solve all of our problems. It’s the best solution for everyone.”
“It does not solve the fact that I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Cordelia’s whole body stilled, the hairpin falling out of her mouth and to the floor.
The two of them regarded one another for a long moment.
Justin’s face was unreadable as Cordelia searched it.
She was not quite sure what she was looking for in his lapis gaze, but what she saw there was an entirely different constitution than Rhys’s sad, wrecked form. He seemed… determined.
“I was—”
“That doesn’t—”
Cordelia sighed in frustration. “Fine, then,” she said, her teeth clenched. “Go first, since you insist.”
“Oh, never mind,” Justin grumbled. “It won’t change things. You’ll simply refuse me again and then run into the arms of a man who doesn’t want you. For what? Is a crumbling pile of bricks worth selling your body and soul over?”
The words stung. Not least because Cordelia could detect the truth in them. Justin seemed to recognize that he’d gone too far, his eyes widening as he felt the weight of his words settle in the room.
“Lia,” he began, but Cordelia interrupted him.
“Don’t,” she said. “Do not continue. You might say something else you’ll inevitably regret and then we will have to repeat this whole charade over again. Truth be told, it makes the whole process easier, if that’s how you view things.”
Justin drew in a breath as though he meant to say something else, but he stopped himself.
Cordelia finished positioning her hair, pleased it did not look so wild.
Once again, she’d managed to hide all evidence of their lovemaking, save for a red mark on her neck where he’d bitten her.
Cordelia had arranged a curl to fall in precisely that spot. Hopefully, it would be enough.
Standing, she fluffed out her skirts.
“Lia, that wasn’t what I meant,” Justin said. “I should have expressed my frustrations differently. I simply don’t understand your position on this. Here I am, telling you that I—”
“I really must go,” Cordelia said, cutting him off. She’d backed herself to the shut door, reaching behind her back for the knob.
He shook his head as she opened the door and stumbled through the threshold. Closing the door behind her, she leaned her head against the wood grain. The lump that she’d tried to swallow down before was now almost choking her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
And she was sorry. She was sorry for the mess she’d caused.
She was sorry for her trickery and lying and blatant lack of self-control.
She was sorry for going along with Portia’s schemes and falling through the floor of a church.
She was sorry for seducing the one decent man who’d elbowed his way into her life.
But she was even sorrier for having to let him go, because she’d fallen in love with him too.