Chapter 32
Owen glanced at his pocket watch. It was late, and he knew Ivy was dressing for the ball, but what he had to say to her could not wait.
He bounded up the stairs to her chamber and rapped on the door. When the lady’s maid opened it, he said, “Do not take offense, but please get out.”
The maid giggled and slipped out of the room.
Owen shut the door softly behind him and prowled through the chamber to the attached room, where Ivy stood in the center, a gorgeous, dark-red ball gown halfway buttoned up her back, tendrils of hair falling across her shoulders.
She was smoothing the fabric over her hips and did not see his reflection in the looking glass.
“Anne, do you think the necklace is too heavy?” she asked, lifting her fingertips to touch the teardrop ruby in filigreed silver that he had had delivered from the Brackley safe.
Owen came up behind her and brushed the shell of her ear with his lips. “I would like to see the necklace without the dress.”
Ivy gasped and whirled around, clutching the loose bodice to her chemise-covered breasts. “Owen! What are you doing here?”
He raised a finger and twirled it around, and she slowly gave him her back again.
Her eyes met his in the ornate stand-up looking glass, and he watched them go unfocused when he traced a fingertip down her spine.
He began to unbutton the gown, his eyebrows raised in a question.
Ivy nodded, and he finished the task, letting the silky fabric pool at her feet.
He hooked his fingers into the petticoat and began to work on the clasps. “I sent the maid away.”
He released the last clasp on the petticoat and let it drop, leaving Ivy in her stockings, chemise, and corset. She took a shallow breath. “Why?”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, inhaling her scent.
“It occurs to me that I have not made my intentions clear. You suggested I marry Lady Wagner today after I received her letter, and it has been bothering me.” When she would have spoken, he slowly shook his head, his cock twitching when he watched her bite her lip in the looking glass.
“Barnes found me after the Denholms left, and he not so subtly suggested that I quit being stupid and share my feelings with you.”
“I will murder him.”
“No, he was right. It has taken me far too long to admit them to myself, so there is no wonder you are unsure. Let me be very, very clear: I want you for my wife, Ivy. For far too long I have left you with the misconception that I abhor marriage, and I cannot let you go another night believing I am not fully invested in this. I thought I did not want to marry after Heidi, but then you burst into my life like a ray of sunshine in a dark room, and I realized it was never about marriage, but about the woman. There is no one else I want to be with. Not now. Not ever. But it seems I need to convince you of that, because I can see on your face that you do not believe me.”
He tugged on the laces of her corset, and she trembled slightly. That made him pause. “If you are not ready for more, Sunshine, we will wait. I will never push you for more than you want to give.”
“I want more.”
“Are you certain? We can—”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes hot with need. “Show me how badly you want me. Convince me to marry you, not because you have to, but because you want to.”
Feral possession roared in his veins, and his fingers returned to her stays.
Within moments the boning of the corset collapsed and he withdrew it from her body and threw it aside.
Slowly, he lifted the hem of the chemise and pulled it over her head, leaving her standing in a pool of fabric while wearing nothing but stockings and garters.
His mouth turned into a desert. Her legs were firm from exercise, as was her shapely bottom. Her waist was nipped in, her shoulders and arms strong and lean. He pressed his fully clothed front to her naked back and lightly wrapped his hand around her throat.
He licked a spot on her jaw. “What will it take to convince you to marry me?” He slid his free hand around her waist, feeling her soft, bare skin on his rough fingertips.
She arched into him, practically purring.
“Do I need to worship your body?” He kissed her temple.
“With my hands?” He released her throat and slowly, torturously slid his palm down until he was cupping her small breast, his thumb strumming the peak.
Ivy moaned and dropped her head back, allowing him full access to her rosy nipples. “Or do you need me to taste you again?”
His other hand joined the first, and he played with her breasts, palming them and massaging them, lightly stroking over her nipples until she was urgently pressing her backside into him.
“Or mayhap what my little ray of sunshine needs is to be fucked.” He licked up the side of her neck and did not miss the way her thighs pressed together at his vulgar use of language.
“Well?” he asked. “What will it take to convince you?”
“All of it,” she gasped.
He huffed a laugh into her hair, his whole body tight with anticipation and his erection testing the constraints of his trousers. “That is right, love. You deserve it all. You deserve everything.”
He spun her around and took her mouth, groaning when she opened immediately for him and touched her tongue to his.
She was a fast learner, her breath sweet and her lips pliant beneath his.
He could kiss her forever and still not feel like he had had enough.
He sucked her lower lip between his teeth and bit gently before stroking into her mouth again.
Her hands clutched his shoulders, her bare body pressed into his shirt, the warmth of her soaking through to him.
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured, lifting his head to stare into her passion-hazed eyes. “You taste perfect for me.”
“You are still dressed.”
“I am. Step out of your gown.” She lifted her feet out of the pooled fabric and he walked her backward toward the wall, kissing her again, unable to keep his mouth off her.
When her shoulder blades touched the wallpaper, he did not stop, pushing her against it and covering her with his body until she was squirming and tugging on his hair with her fingers. “More?”
“More, more,” she chanted, and he wedged his thigh between her legs, forcing them apart.
“I need you to stay very still,” he commanded. “Can you do that?”
She nodded, and he began kissing down the column of her throat, nipping and sucking, licking and teasing. He kissed down to her wrist and turned her palm to plant another kiss before sucking one of her fingers into his mouth.
“Oh my…” she gasped as he released her finger, dragging his curled tongue over the length. He repeated the process with the other arm before returning to her chest.
“You have the most perfect breasts,” he said in amazement.
She was not overly large, but she fit perfectly in his hands, and he could not help thinking about where else they would fit perfectly together.
He bent his head and took one nipple in his mouth, and she arched into him, her fingers delving into his hair to hold him there.
He lavished both breasts with his lips and tongue and teeth, sucking and tugging until her lower body was writhing against his.
He lifted his head. “I thought I asked you to stay still.”
Her eyes flickered, and he realized the playful admonishment had hurt her feelings rather than enflamed her. He cupped her face and made her look at him. “I am sorry, Sunshine. Remember, if I ever do or say anything you do not like, you have to tell me. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He waited.
She cleared her throat. “I did not like that.”
He smiled as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She trusted him, which was the only way for them to do this together. She trusted him enough to tell him, in the midst of being in a vulnerable position, that she did not like something he had done. “Thank you for telling me, love.”
He should have known better, anyway. He had seen how she reacted to his praise, felt how wet she had become when he commanded her and then lavished her with words of affection.
She would not like admonishment, or to feel that she had done something wrong.
“In that case,” he amended, “I want you to move however much you want. Do whatever you want, touch me however you want. You cannot do anything wrong. You are perfect.”
Her crescent dimple flashed.
“And thank you for not knocking me in the chin,” he added, making her snort.
“Do you think I would win if we sparred?” she asked seriously.
He considered it, his hand drifting to her hip, and then lower. “Perhaps. We will have to try some time. In the nude, of course.”
She laughed again, but the sound faded into a moan when he slid his finger inside her.
“You are so hot,” he hissed, “and wet and tight.” He curled his finger, and then added a second digit, making her squirm.
Perspiration beaded on her forehead and collarbones as he worked her upward, moving in and out of her, but it was not until he rubbed his thumb against the bundle of her nerves that she cried out.
“Owen, Owen, I am going to—”
He removed his thumb, and she looked at him in dismay.
“Tell me you know I want to marry you.”
She gaped at him. “Are you jesting?”
“No.”
She squirmed on his fingers and clenched around him. He was so hard he was afraid he might find release in his trousers just from touching her.
“Owen, this is not the time.”
“This is the perfect time.”
She glowered.
“Clearly I am not working hard enough”—he lightly dragged his thumb across her and she whimpered—“if my future wife has any doubt about how much I want her.”
And still she remained silent, impaled on his fingers, trembling with arousal.
“What else can I do to make you believe?” He applied pressure, and her breathing accelerated. “Bloody hell, Sunshine, look at you. You are glowing, all swollen and flushed and spread on my fingers. I want you to come apart for me.”
She looked down at him with fevered eyes and blown pupils. “Would you have let me marry Hartford without saying anything?”
He knelt and kissed her thigh, running a lazy circle over her skin with his tongue. “I wanted you to be happy, but I am a selfish man, Ivy. Ever since we kissed in the meadow, you have been mine. I tried to be a better person, tried to let you go, but if I am being honest? No. I would not have.”
She had grown wetter as he spoke, undulating against him. At his declaration, her eyes met his, and she said, “I believe you.”
His heart soared even as possession streaked through his body, demanding he claim her fully. He stroked her again and again, and she came apart, crying out his name as she trembled through her release. He pinned her to the wall with one arm, while gentling the thrusts with his fingers.
“That is my girl,” he said hoarsely.
Ivy sagged against the wallpaper, a faint smile on her lips. Her hairstyle was ruined, the loosened locks framing her freckled cheeks. He reluctantly withdrew from her wet heat and stroked his hands up her sides in long, soothing sweeps.
At last she pushed him away, her body still dewy and flushed, and her eyes dropped to his trousers.
“I have overheard enough to know that a man enjoys being touched there as well.” She reached forward, and he sucked in a breath when her fingers lifted his shirt and brushed against the skin of his stomach.
“You do not have to do that.”
“I know. You do not make me do anything I do not want to do.” She unbuttoned his trousers, and when they gaped open and his member sprang free, her eyes widened. “Oh, my.”
He was worried that meant she was frightened of his length and girth, but he should not have been.
Ivy Bennett was frightened of very little.
She reached down and boldly wrapped her hand around him, and he hissed between his teeth.
He pressed one palm to the wall and dropped his head to watch her explore his length.
“I have not done this before,” she admitted, trailing her fingers up and down. “Does it feel good?”
“It feels incredible.” He gritted his molars when she brushed her fingertips over the head, and the pads came away wet. A little line appeared between her brows as she studied them.
“It happens before the man’s own release. It shows he is excited.”
She beamed up at him. “I like when you explain things to me.”
His heart squeezed. Ivy’s approval meant more to him than anyone else’s.
For a long time, he had relied on no one and had cared about nothing but making sure his clients were happy.
Now he finally had someone in his life who meant more than a thousand satisfied clients.
She had very quickly become everything he had not known he was missing.
She began stroking him in earnest, and he knew he had to stop her before he found his pleasure in her hand.
He wrapped his palm around her wrist, stilling her movements. “If you want more, you will have to stop. But I am also happy to wait to consummate the marriage until after the vows have been said. I am happy to wait for as long as you need.”
She looked up him and her lips curved. “You would do that?”
“I will do anything for you. Absolutely bloody anything. You want me to steal the queen’s crown? I will find a way. You want me to breed you the finest horse on the Continent? Consider it done. You want my mouth between your legs every night for the next fifty years? It will be my pleasure.”
She flushed and gave him a soft squeeze that nearly had his eyes rolling.
“I want to feel you inside me.”
He nuzzled her neck, and experienced the most stunning moment of clarity in his entire life.
Good God. I am in love with her.