Chapter 10 #2
She returned it easily. “ Exactly . You were perfectly in control and then the waver started just after two drinks ago. Not drunk, but tipsy enough to start to make mistakes.”
“And that’s why you decided to end the game? To protect me.”
There was a moment when a flicker of something came over her face. A trouble that shadowed her usually bright expression, but then it was gone. “That’s what I do.” She looked past him. “And here comes one of the subjects of my unwanted protection now. Good evening, Julia.”
He turned and watched as Arabella’s sister approached.
She was a lovely young woman, with a heart-shaped face and eyes very much like her sister’s.
But though their familial connection was clear, especially closer up, Julia lacked something Arabella had.
It was the bright spark, the bubbling joy, the intense explosion that was in Arabella’s every move and word.
“May I present Mr. Silas Windham,” Arabella said. “Silas, this is Julia Comerford, my youngest sister.”
“Miss Comerford,” he said with a slight bow toward her.
“Mr. Windham,” she replied, her gaze flitting up and down him briefly. “So this is you.”
“Julia,” Arabella said softly.
Silas laughed. “Good Lord, is it really true all she said about talking about me for all these years? I thought that was a way to make me feel better about myself.”
“Arabella is singular,” Julia said. “Once she has something to think about, she really does gnaw it to pieces.”
He winked at Arabella, who was going a shocking pink in her cheeks. “Sounds like fun.”
“Stop it both of you, or I shall storm out very dramatically.” Arabella’s words had no heat and he could see she was smothering a laugh.
Julia shook her head with a giggle and then said, “I’ve heard you’ve recently been in the former colonies, Mr. Windham.”
“Silas, please,” he said. “And yes. I was in Virginia for a while and then a territory that just became a state before I departed for London: Louisiana. Both beautiful places.”
“Is it as wild as everyone says?” Julia asked, her blue eyes shining.
He smiled. “As wild as you’d like it to be.”
She shook her head. “To travel sounds like a treat. I’ve really only been here in London and out in Granger before that. Granger was boring as dry toast and London is… London .”
Arabella continued to smile, but Silas caught the flicker of concern at the edges. She was worried about her sister, it seemed.
“Well, perhaps the next gentleman you make an arrangement with will take you traveling,” Arabella said.
Julia dipped her head. “Perhaps.” When she lifted her head again, any worries were gone.
“Well, I’ve been chatting all night with dearest Bianca.
Her parting was not on mutual terms, Arabella, I have all the details for later.
But I told her I’d come spend a night with her and have breakfast tomorrow, so I’ll travel home in her carriage. ”
At that, Arabella’s hand tightened a little on Silas’s inner elbow. He glanced at her. “So I have you all to myself.”
“It seems you do. I wonder what you shall ever do with me.”
“I don’t,” he said.
Julia rolled her eyes playfully. “And that is my cue to leave. Goodnight, dearest.” She leaned forward and kissed Arabella’s cheek and then extended her hand to Silas. “And goodnight, Silas. It’s not every day you meet a man of such legend. You did live up to the talk.”
“Go away,” Arabella said, her tone still filled with teasing.
Julia slipped into the crowd with a light laugh and Silas pivoted toward Arabella. Even a little tipsy, he just couldn’t get enough of her face. He reached up to trace the line of her jaw with a fingertip and watched the shiver move through her in response.
“Should we have another drink?” he asked.
“No, I think we should go get in my carriage and go back to your home,” she said with a falsely innocent smile. “Right now, if you please.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, and drew her toward the door and whatever the rest of the night would bring.
* * *
T he moment they got into her carriage and the vehicle began to move, Silas came across the gap between them and pinned her to the wall behind her. His mouth was harsh and hot against hers, all semblance of control wiped away by the handful of drinks he’d partaken in during their night of cards.
She rather liked this untethered version of him. How hungry he was for her. She was certainly equally filled with heat and desire for him.
His hands roved, fingers gripping and massaging and flicking as she rose beneath him, sucking his tongue, nipping his lower lip.
He rumbled with pleasure as she did so and began to drag her skirt up her legs. His palm skimmed her stocking, thumb stroking the spot where her bare skin began.
“I wanted to do this all night,” he murmured against her throat. “Watching you drove me mad.”
She gasped as he cupped her sex, thick fingers opening her and stroking her right to the edge of madness with such speed that she felt like she was the one who was a little tipsy, not him.
She caught his lapels and deepened the kiss, tasting the liquor and desire on him in equal measure. When she pulled away, she held his stare and flicked her head toward the seat next to her.
“Sit,” she ordered.
He arched a brow at her and she waited for his response. Would he deny her and engage in a battle? That could be fun. Or would he acquiesce and let her do what they both wanted?
He did the latter and eased onto the carriage seat next to her. She moved to straddle his leg and just before she kissed him again, she whispered, “Good boy.”
He chuckled against her tongue, but then the humor was gone. Their mouths warred, desperate and heated. He got his hands back under her dress and cupped her bare backside to grind her against him. And somehow she managed to wedge a hand between them to unfasten his fall front.
He was hard already. She’d known that from the first moment he pressed against her and she could feel him there, this luscious treat just waiting for her to claim.
So she did. She claimed him in one heavy, slick slide that took him inside to the hilt. They both shuddered. He rested his head on her shoulder, his breath harsh as she began to ride him.
She watched him as she rode. In his slightly inebriated state, his expression was a little softer, even in his pleasure.
Like some fraction of his mask had slipped.
All his need, all his longing, all his pleasure was reflected on every line of him.
He moaned louder, he gripped her tighter, she saw him lose himself in the way her body rolled over him and when he rapped his head back against the carriage seat and grunted out, “Arabella,” the power of it was almost too much.
She arched, her orgasm rolling through her in long, heavy waves. He watched her from below, eyes wide as she threw her head back and took every drop of the pleasure.
Normally she would have continued that way, taking him until he felt close to the brink and then trusting him to shift her away so he could spend.
But tonight was different because of his state.
She could see he was beginning to feel the effect of the last drink he’d had before they left.
He might not be able to stop himself when his own orgasm hit.
So she removed herself from over him.
“Oh, not that,” he grunted.
She laughed. “No. This.”
She lowered herself to her knees before him and took him in her mouth.
Her taste was all over him, pleasure and release, and it mixed with his clean flavor.
She took him as deep as she could, stroking him with her hand and her tongue as his fingers came into her hair and he lifted to her.
His legs were shaking, his breath was hard and without warning, he came.
She took every drop of him, reveling in him like he was fine wine.
When she was done, he caught her arms and pulled her back onto the seat beside him.
He kissed her deeply, rumbling at the taste of himself on her lips.
Then he tucked her in beside him and just held her in silence for the remainder of the ride.
As they reached his home, she smiled up at him. “Are you going to put that lovely thing away or shock Poole entirely?”
Silas glanced down at his fall front, which was still unfastened. He shook his head. “Poole deserves a shock. He delights in his little acts of disrespect. As if I don’t know who I am and where I certainly don’t belong.”
She wrinkled her brow at the pain that laced those words. A man like Silas always appeared as if he didn’t give a damn about what others thought, but it was clear the servant’s disrespect rankled on some deep level.
He managed to tuck himself back into place before the carriage door opened. He stepped out first. Well, staggered was more like it. He barely managed to avoid depositing himself on the drive and braced himself on the carriage door with both hands as he leaned back in. “Are you coming?”
She realized she ought to say no. When she felt so much draw, she should always say no. But instead, she came down from the vehicle. “Gregson, wait here, will you? I think I must help poor Mr. Windham inside.”
“No, I—” he began, and then his knees wobbled a little.
She stepped up and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Lean on me. I’ll deliver you safely to your bed.”
“Mmmm, as long as you’re in it,” he grunted. They reached the door where Poole now stood. The butler looked down his nose at them even as he let them into the foyer. “Poole, how nice of you to greet us.”
“Quite,” Poole sniffed. “Are you well, sir?”
“He’s fine. Just a bit in his cups.”
Poole turned away and Arabella was certain he muttered something beneath his breath. She glared at him, but then drew Silas forward. There was no reason for him to have to spend even another moment in this vulnerable state with someone who was so cruel.