Chapter 14 #3
He added another finger and continued his slow thrust and withdrawal until she was writhing against the sheets in a most satisfactory manner.
“Was there something you wished to say to me, Carenza?” He brushed his thumb against her clit with just enough pressure to pleasure her but not enough to let her come. “I am more than willing to listen to you beg.”
“Fine.” She glared at him. “You win.”
“I always do, ma’am, but that’s not what I want to hear from you right now.” He smiled sympathetically at her. “I know that you have impeccable manners when you choose to use them.”
He allowed his gaze to sweep over the curve of her hips, the gentle roundness of her stomach, and her glorious bosom, as if he really could get up and leave her.
Did she not realize the power she had over him?
Was it too late for him to pretend that his emotions, damn them, were not already fully engaged?
She worried her lower lip, her eyes locked on his, and seemed to come to a decision. “Please fuck me, Julian.”
His wave of relief at her words was quickly followed by a roar of purely male satisfaction.
He fell on her like a starving man, the hard length of his cock pressing deep as she climaxed with an almighty scream.
He shut out everything but the feel of her gripping his cock as he kept thrusting, pushing her to new heights and himself to a level of physical satisfaction he’d never known before.
There was no finesse, no consideration of his partner, just a mutual fight to reach completion that allowed for no surrender.
He came eventually, he had to, but not before he’d made Carenza climax half a dozen times, her words reduced simply to screaming his name and God’s—not that he compared himself to the Almighty, but he certainly felt like a king.
He rolled off her and buried his face in the pillow, his body so replete he wanted to sleep for a week and then wake up and do it all again. She sighed and turned on her side, one of her arms coming across his waist.
“You’ve worn me out.” Julian kissed the top of her head.
“Good, because I will be sore for days,” Carenza grumbled. “How I’m supposed to get up, get dressed, and go back home, I don’t know.”
“You could stay,” Julian offered.
“Here?” She sighed. “You know that’s not possible.”
“Who would know?”
“We were seen leaving the theater together, Julian. If it gets out that I never went home, people will talk.”
A niggling sense of disquiet made him come up on one elbow and look down at her. “Am I that distasteful to you?”
“What?”
“That the mere idea of society thinking we are lovers makes you afraid to be seen in my company?”
She eased away from him. “That’s not fair. We agreed—”
“We agreed to be lovers.”
“And to be discreet.” Carenza sat up, her arms crossed over her bosom.
“Which brings me back to my original question.” Julian wasn’t quite sure why he was continuing to argue, but he didn’t seem able to stop. “I’m not ashamed of being your lover.”
“And I’m not ashamed of you!” Carenza moved to the side of the bed, reclaimed her stockings, and began to roll them back on her legs, her movements jerky. “Why are you being so unpleasant?”
“I’m merely …”
She looked over at him. “I’m trying to protect your reputation, you idiot.”
“Mine?” Julian raised his eyebrows. “What foolery is this?”
She left the bed, wincing as her feet hit the floor, and hurried over to the pile of clothes by the fire. He pulled on his breeches and joined her.
“If you’re so intent on leaving, let me at least help you dress. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’d been ravished as you left my house.”
“There’s no need to be sarcastic.” She put on her shift and stepped into her petticoats, presenting him with her back to lace up her stays.
“Oh, I don’t know, it’s better than completely losing my temper over your nonsensical behavior.” He yanked her laces hard and tied them off in a neat bow.
She turned to face him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose your temper.”
“And you never will.”
She cupped his chin. “My dearest Julian, please think for a moment. If anyone finds out I was the lady who placed the advertisement, my reputation—as you’ve repeatedly reminded me—will be in ruins. I would hate to damage you by association.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed him. “That’s all.”
He wanted to argue, but what could he say? The mere idea that anyone needed to protect him was ludicrous, and she knew it.
“You know I am right,” Carenza said. “Now, will you call a hackney cab so that I can go home? I don’t want Allegra to worry.”
“My coachman will take you,” he countered. “There is nothing to identify my carriage. I’ll walk you down to the mews if you give me a moment to dress.”
Her quick smile as she turned away wasn’t reassuring. He had a sense that he’d erred, but he didn’t know how, and he wasn’t in any fit state to inquire without probably making things worse.
“I need to put up my hair.” Carenza started searching the floor. “The pins have gone everywhere.”
Carenza sat back in Julian’s carriage and took a trembling breath.
He’d offered to come with her, but she’d told him she was fine and that he should go back to bed.
But she wasn’t fine. He knew her well enough to sense her distress, but she wasn’t in the right mood to discuss her emotions with the person who was currently causing most of them.
Julian was infuriating sometimes, and he brought out the worst in her—all the feelings Hector had deliberately provoked and then ridiculed to make her feel worthless.
Hector had called her jealous and envious, and he’d laughed when she’d honestly tried to discuss how his behavior upset her.
She’d been brought up in a house full of love, with parents who clearly adored each other but who weren’t above the occasional disagreement.
Living with a man who didn’t respect her opinions had been devastating.
Originally, Hector had encouraged her to enjoy his love-making and to participate to the fullest extent.
But after a while he’d started to criticize her, saying she was too eager and unbecomingly carnal for a wife.
When she restrained herself, he told her she was dull, and that he needed other women to make up for her lack of skill because she was incapable of loving him properly.
She’d never told anyone how bewildered she’d felt and had learned to hide her fears of inadequacy behind a screen of ladylike behavior that Hector did approve of.
She’d no longer asked him to explain himself or became upset when he started a new affair, and so he’d left her alone, allowing her to maintain the pretense that all was well.
Carenza reminded herself that she’d chosen Julian to be her lover and that the terms of their agreement had been dictated by her. If she chose to indulge her more risqué side in his bed, then he had the choice to end their relationship if he found her too much.
That was all well and good, but why was she still so upset?
One thing being married to Hector had taught her was to be ruthlessly honest with herself, and she sensed she was hiding from a vital truth.
She’d told herself she’d chosen Julian because she believed that as a rake, he’d be willing to fulfill her needs without any emotions being involved.
But was that the lie? Had she chosen him for the simple reason that she trusted him?
And, if that was true, why did it matter, and why were her feelings so intimately engaged?