Chapter 10 #2
“Heavens, no.” Her reply came so fast and so strong that Roman didn’t doubt its veracity. “He has been nothing but kind to me since my parents died. He even wrote me a recommendation for this position, if you recall.”
“Yes, but perhaps he did it out of guilt.”
“He did not,” she said vehemently. “He has lived a sordid life, but it’s not what you think. He’s done what he could to survive an extremely unhappy marriage.”
“Yes, I am aware that he and the duchess do not care for one another. I believe all of London knows that.”
“But something did happen,” she said quietly. “Nothing that physically hurt me,” she added. “I still don’t wish to discuss it. I would rather not think of it at all right now.” She held his gaze, and there was no mistaking her desire—or her invitation.
Roman moved his hand up above her glove and found her bare wrist. He stroked his thumb along the underside, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse beneath her warm flesh. “Is there a way I could assist in distracting you?”
“Yes.” She pivoted on the seat and sat straighter before pressing her mouth to his.
He angled toward her and cupped the back of her head with his free hand as he returned her kiss with fierce demand. Her beard scratched his face, and he longed to kiss her without it.
Their positioning was awkward. He wanted to feel her against him. She must have felt the same, for she threw her leg over his lap and straddled him.
Groaning, Roman kept hold of her nape and clasped her waist with his other hand.
She splayed one hand against his upper chest whilst the other slid along his neck.
She rose up, so he had to tip his head back to kiss her.
Using her advantage, she speared her tongue into his mouth, ravishing him with a brazen rapture that sent Roman into a delirious haze of lust.
She pressed her hips down against his, the warmth of her sex teasing his hardened cock through the layers of their breeches. He was not wearing any undergarments. Was she? The notion that he could unbutton her fall and stroke her sex was intoxicating and fast becoming all-consuming.
Roman slid his hand over from her waist and flicked the buttons at the top of her breeches. The fall gapped open, and he tucked his hand inside. She was as bare beneath the breeches as he was.
His hips twitched against hers with need as he worked his hand between them.
He was still wearing his blasted glove, but he didn’t care.
He teased her clitoris and was rewarded when she pulled her mouth from his and let out a long, low whimper.
She kissed his jaw and his neck as she moved her hips against his hand.
She suddenly froze against him. “We’ve stopped.”
Roman withdrew his hand from her breeches as she scrambled off him and threw herself into the opposite seat. She quickly re-buttoned her fall, and Roman tossed her hat over.
She caught it easily just before the door opened. Her gaze caught his, smoldering with her lingering desire. Roman’s body thrummed as he ached for her.
He stared at her with dark promise, wishing they’d had a much longer journey in the coach. He lifted his hand and licked the finger of his glove, tasting her on the kidskin. Her eyes narrowed at him just before he climbed down from the coach.
Roman thanked the coachman before walking toward the house. He heard Ellis moving behind him. Graham opened the door, and Roman stepped into the entrance hall. He inclined his head at the butler and said he was going upstairs for the evening.
Moving into the staircase hall, Roman slowed, dallying whilst he waited for Ellis. She approached him with a guarded look, and Roman feared they would not continue what they’d started in the coach. They’d had several conversations about why they should not engage in this sort of familiarity.
Familiarity?
That word didn’t remotely come close to the primal, explosive connection firing between them.
Ellis came abreast of him at the base of the staircase, and he held his breath. “Come to my room,” she whispered. “When you can.”
“Soon,” he promised.
She gave him a sultry stare, and he assumed her momentary wariness came from wondering if he would want to continue. He most certainly did. In fact, he feared he would expire if they did not.
But they would. As soon as he could dispatch his valet and ensure the servants would not disturb them.
Then, he and Ellis would see this attraction to its natural and thrilling end.
Roman paced in his chamber after dismissing Graham for the evening.
The butler also served as his valet because Roman found he didn’t need to pay two salaries when he had such a small household.
If anyone knew that he, a marquess, didn’t have a dedicated valet, they would surely think him a failure, or at least incredibly strange.
It was after eleven, but Roman wasn’t sure all the servants had retired. The footman was typically the last one awake, but Roman had clearly informed Graham that he didn’t require anything further.
Why was he so bloody nervous?
He realized his tension had little to do with whether his retainers were still knocking around and more to do with the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman since his wife, and she’d died over two years ago.
Furthermore, they hadn’t shared a bed for several months before her death, because she’d found reasons to deny him.
In fact, Roman had spent that time sleeping in the chamber Ellis now occupied.
When he thought of her in the bed he once slept in, his body heated again. Not that it had fully cooled since they’d left the coach.
It occurred to Roman that he hadn’t ever wanted Clarissa this desperately. Perhaps because when he thought back, he could see that she hadn’t ever been interested in sharing his bed.
Bloody hell, he did not want to think about Clarissa right now.
Roman strode to the door and, opening it, stepped into the narrow hall that adjoined the larger staircase hall via an archway. He would not go that far, however. The door to Ellis’s chamber was to the left.
Before he could take a step, he froze. Because Patience, the maid, was just exiting that doorway. She carried a basin and toweling.
His heart thumped as he waited motionless to see if she would notice him. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to as she moved toward the archway. Roman slunk backward over the threshold of his chamber just as Patience paused and turned. Did she see that his door was open?
He held his breath until she departed. He closed the door and pressed his head against the wood as he closed his eyes and filled his lungs. This was madness. He ought to go to bed. Alone.
Except his body was still hard and eager, his mind full of Ellis and how badly he wanted to touch her sex with his bare hand. Perhaps if he just waited a little while longer…
He resumed pacing.
A few minutes later, or perhaps much longer since he wasn’t actually tracking the time, he heard a light rap on the door from the bathing chamber. Roman crossed to it in two giant steps and threw it open.
Ellis stood just over the threshold. Her face was spectacularly bare, and he drank in her beauty. Her blonde hair was plaited and tied with a light blue ribbon. The plait hung over her shoulder, the curled end grazing her breast.
She wore a light dressing gown that left no doubt as to her true gender. Her curves were easily discernible, and Roman wondered how she was ever able to accomplish hiding herself in the men’s costumes.
“You take my breath away,” he whispered.
She gave him a tentative look. “May I come in?”
He stepped aside in invitation. “Of course.”
“I wasn’t sure,” she said as he closed the door. “I thought you were coming to my chamber.”
“I was. That is, I tried. However, I saw Patience leaving and managed to retreat before she saw me. Then I began to doubt the wisdom of this tryst.” He wiped his hand over his brow. “I am likely thinking much too hard about this, but, you see, I haven’t been with a woman in a very long time and I—”
She took his hand, effectively silencing his blathering, and led him toward the mahogany four-poster bed. The feel of her skin against his made him want to pull her against him, but he let her lead him.
When they reached the bed, she positioned him against it, then pushed him back until he sat on the green coverlet. She stood before him and locked her gaze with his. “How long?”
He blinked at her, trying to determine what she was asking. What had he just said? That he hadn’t been with a woman in a very long time. Damn, he was flustered.
“About three years.”
Her features didn’t change. “Well, at least you aren’t a rogue like some of the other gentlemen with whom you associate.
Though I suppose most of them—all of them now?
—are reformed.” She cocked her head. “But you are also a reformed rogue. You mentioned you were a rake before you inherited the title and that you frequented bawdyhouses.”
“Just one bawdyhouse,” he clarified. “I was a very particular rogue.”
She laughed, and the sound was low and seductive. Roman’s already hardened cock lengthened.
“How did you go from that rake to a monk?”
He didn’t want to tell her that his wife had made him doubt himself. “When I inherited, I dedicated myself to my new duty. You’ve seen the state the finances used to be in. I had much work to do. When I married, I took those vows very seriously. Since my wife died, I have continued to be busy.”
She arched a brow. “You simply have no time for personal gratification?”
“Oh, I make time for that.”
“I know. I heard you the other night. I should have explicitly asked if you take time for sex. It seems you do not.”
Roman’s pulse had never moved more frantically, and his body had never been in such a heightened state of arousal. He could hardly believe how plainly she was speaking or how incredibly erotic it was. “You heard me the other night?” His voice nearly cracked.
She nodded. “I had to go back into the dressing chamber to fetch my hairbrush. I could hear you against the door.” She took the smallest step forward—it was all she could do, for her legs now brushed against his.
Her gaze held his, and he was lost in the dizzying desire he saw in the blue depths of her eyes.
He parted his legs. “How did you know what I was doing?”
“I know what men do,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve helped a man do that. Well, he was more boy than man. We were only seventeen.”
Her words enflamed him. He was both furious with any man that had touched her and so aroused by her knowledge and experience that he had to work hard not to throw her on the bed and ravish her.
He clasped her waist and could tell she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the dressing gown. His lust intensified. He pulled her to stand between his legs. “Tell me, Ellis—that is your true name, isn’t it? I do not want to call you anything but your real name when I make you mine.”
Her jawline was red where she’d worn her beard, but the color had begun to fade. Now it flushed back, moving up her face in a delicate blush.
“Yes, it’s Ellis. That was my mother’s maiden name.”
“Ellis Dangerfield,” he murmured. “Tell me, when was the last time you were with a man?”
“Five years,” she replied.
“And how many men have you been with?”
Her brow shot back up. “Will you tell me how many women you’ve been with?”
He laughed softly. “Ten, perhaps. Or twelve. I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know for certain.”
“Two men. The boy-man and someone else who was entirely forgettable.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “My experience doesn’t bother you?”
He shook his head. “On the contrary. I find it oddly provocative. But let me be clear, my goal is to ensure that your past experiences pale in comparison to the present.”
“That is an excellent goal. I shall endeavor to do the same.”
“You’ve already done it. Your frank conversation and boldness are absolutely intoxicating.
Honestly, I don’t know how I haven’t already torn your dressing gown away.
” He moved his hands to the front of her gown and loosened the fastenings.
“The other night—did you stay in the bathing chamber and listen until I finished?”
She nodded. “I heard you climax. Then I went back to my room and pleasured myself.”
Fuck. Roman didn’t think he’d ever been in this state of pure lust before. He wondered if he could actually come listening to her talk.
Her gown now gapped open, and Roman could make out the curve of her breast as well as the flat plane of her stomach. And he glimpsed the golden curls at the apex of her thighs.
Before he could push the garment apart, she opened it and shrugged it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her plait still teased her breast, the curls at the end brushing against her right nipple.
Roman reached up and grasped the plait. He leaned forward and smelled her hair, closing his eyes at the deliciously floral and very feminine scent. “I’ve never smelled this on you before.”
“I washed with my regular soap. That’s why you saw Patience leaving my chamber. I wanted to smell like a woman.”
He pulled her toward him so he could put his mouth on her. Pushing his hand beneath her breast, he cupped her as he drew her nipple into his mouth. She gasped and clutched the back so his head, her fingers digging into his hair. He wanted her hair free too.
Roman released her breast. “You taste like a woman, that’s for certain.” He plucked the ribbon free from her hair and pulled the plait apart impatiently.
She took over from him and loosened her blonde locks. When the plait was gone, she combed her fingers through her hair and shook it over her shoulders. It caressed her upper arms in gentle, golden waves.
“How in the hell do you get all that under a wig?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t care right now. I want to toss you onto my bed and bury myself inside you.” He stood and removed his dressing gown, casting it away carelessly. “Do you have any objection to that?”
“Will you be wearing one of your French letters?” she asked.
Shit. “I don’t have any. I told you; I haven’t done this in ages.”
“I don’t mind. But you must leave me before you spend.” The edge of her mouth ticked up in an alluring half-smile. “And don’t worry, I’ll help you finish.”
“If you don’t stop speaking in such an erotic manner, I’m going to finish before we even start.”
Ellis closed the small space between them and curled her arms around his neck. “Then we’d best begin.”