Chapter Eight #2
Over and over, he drove like a man possessed.
Books tumbled from the shelf to fall onto the floor with dull thuds and fluttering pages.
She held him to her, kissed whatever portion of his body she encountered.
The scrape of her nipples against the coarse sprinkling of red hair on his chest added another layer of heightened sensation to their actions, as did the friction put on the button at the center of her pleasure, for her body was opened to him.
“Oh, dear God,” she managed to whisper between pants.
“I’ve never been called that before,” he joked, with a strained chuckle.
The frantic rawness of the act bent all her misconceptions of coitus she’d had while with Atterbury, and she couldn’t help but respond in kind as a wild, abandoned woman. “For the first time in my life, I’ve given myself the freedom to chase my own satisfaction. I’m finally enjoying intercourse.”
“You should have been well loved by your husband. I’m sorry you weren’t.” One of his thrusts went particularly deep then. “Enjoy everything about this fuck, Diana, for there is more to come.”
“I… Oh!” Did it make her a horrible person to look forward to being thoroughly pleasured by this man multiple times in the coming months?
Then she gave herself up to his advances.
His ragged breathing echoed in her ears and his fingers dug into her hips with a savageness that would no doubt leave bruises.
Sweat dampened his forehead, his upper lip, and as she kissed him, the taste of salt came away on her tongue.
Frankly, it was damned arousing.
When he delved a hand between their bodies and he strummed his fingers over that swollen bud at her center, she sucked in a breath, and release would hopefully come quickly.
Before the scream could leave her throat, he kissed her again, took the sound into himself.
Quite simply, they shared a few breaths as their bodies worked to become one.
All too soon, the pressure building and circling in her lower belly broke, for the sensory overload had finally overwhelmed her.
“Oh… ah!” The half-muffled utterance sounded overly loud in the silence of the room.
Contractions fluttered through her core as pleasure swamped her in ever-increasing waves.
Diana dug her fingers into his shoulders, hoping to leave her mark on him.
She whispered his name as if in prayer, buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, and still the bands of release kept coming.
There was no relenting, no cessation, and she marveled over that fact.
Another two thrusts sent him into the vortex with her.
The viscount claimed her mouth in a hard kiss that separated her from reality.
As he ground his pelvis into hers, he lifted her up, and she locked her legs around his waist as his shaft pumped, and warmth filled her core.
Completely spent, she collapsed against him, and he did the same to her until they were draped against the bookshelf, panting.
“I don’t know what to think,” she whispered. “I’m not certain I can walk just now.” And what a lovely feeling that was!
“That is the best compliment a man can have,” he said whispered back, as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
You’ll know the man who is for you when he kisses your forehead for no reason…
The words that her father had given her, seemingly a lifetime ago, suddenly swam through the haze of her mind.
The gesture was unexpected, even from him, but did it mean that?
As a tiny piece of her heart went unexpectedly into his keeping, panic rose in her chest. Oh, no!
She couldn’t fall for a rake, not even one she enjoyed bantering with.
Surely, he wouldn’t be true to her, and he was younger besides. Then there was her brother to consider.
Stop thinking, Diana. You needn’t figure everything out just now.
Eventually, her heartbeat returned to normal, and her breathing evened. When she came back to her senses, she pushed at Nathaniel’s chest until he released her. When her feet hit the floor, she continued to shove at him until there was a fair amount of space between them.
“What now?” Since her legs felt like cooked porridge, she leaned into the bookshelf, careful to avoid the volumes on the floor.
“Come lie with me for a bit. Then, when our strength returns, I’ll drive you home.” As he spoke, the viscount led her over to the sofa. He stretched out and moved to his side. When she joined him, she lay facing him.
A sigh left her throat. With her head resting in the crook of his elbow and his other arm slung about her hips and the warmth of his body seeping into hers, she basked in the aftereffects of intimacy.
“It’s lovely laying here with you. My husband never wished to linger in my bed.
As soon as the deed was done, he left for his own suite.
” Or his mistress, depending on his mood.
“Some men have no idea of the treasure they have, and it’s not about coin or jewels,” he said in a low, rumbling voice that sent flutters through her chest.
For long moments, silence reigned between them.
As he closed his eyes, she contented herself with exploring his body with her fingertips.
There were a few scars of varying sizes and shapes on his back, and she delighted in the spattering of freckles she found here and there over his skin that she hadn’t seen before.
“Tell me about your early days, before you became a rake, before you had your trust in women broken.”
A soft grin curved his lips. When he opened his eyes, he pinned her with his mossy green gaze. “Usually, by this time, I’m dressing myself in preparation for leaving a woman’s bed.”
“If you don’t wish to talk, we don’t need to.” But she didn’t wish to hear about his former lovers.
“No, it’s not that. I… I rather like it.
” He encouraged a shock of her hair to curl around his finger.
“When your brother went to join the war effort, I told him I didn’t want to go with him.
It was the first time we didn’t do something together since Eton.
I just couldn’t go, Diana; I was terrified of being maimed or even killed.
” When he paused, she brushed the hair from his forehead.
“I didn’t want to kill other men merely because they weren’t English.
I mean, Napoleon was a horrid person and a dictator bent on world domination, but other countries’ leaders aren’t any better. ”
Fair point. “How did you keep busy instead? I’ll wager your decision wasn’t a popular one within your friend set.”
“It wasn’t.” He snapped his gaze to hers again. “You truly want to know?”
“Yes.” Oddly, she wished to know more about him. Yes, he was lovely as a carnal partner, but there was an attachment between them that went beyond that.
“I went to the Continent. I studied the works of writers, poets, and painters. Then I discovered what set my soul on fire—poetry. I dug deep in that, chased it wherever that path led. Collected volumes and papers of poetry for what seemed like years.” He drew a hand down her arm, leaving gooseflesh behind.
“I traveled through Rome and the various regions in Italy. I traveled in Portugal until the armies sent my arse back home.”
“What happened then?”
“Well, I wanted more poetry, to know more poets, to talk with them and find out what had inspired them to write those lines. I collected what I could find from England, even met living poets. It was one of the best things I’d ever done, and I was even inspired in my own life.”
“To bed as many women as you could?”
“Of course not. That is a separate issue.” Nathaniel tweaked her nose with a grin. “Studying poetry changed my life. It made me feel better about myself and the decisions I’d made.”
How interesting. “Yet you’ve never written your own. Why?”
He shrugged, and the gesture was elegant enough that she wanted to feel his body moving against hers again. “Fear? Embarrassment? Not enough motivation or inspiration?”
“But you said that poetry sets your soul on fire.” Admiration for him rose up another notch. “Unless your dalliances are stronger than what your soul needs, perhaps you should continue to pursue that.”
“I don’t know, honestly. I suppose I’ll figure it out.”
“You’ve never allowed any of your contemporaries to know this about you?” No matter how far she delved into her memories, she didn’t remember William ever telling her that his best friend was a budding poet.
“I didn’t know how, and at times I wanted to keep it to myself, like a dragon hoarding gold.” A sheepish expression came over his face. “And I also didn’t want my friends to make jest of me.”
“Being a poet is a well-respected living.”
“Perhaps, but it is also feast or famine where income is concerned.”
“And you have responsibilities.” It wasn’t a question.
“There is that.”
Eventually, he would marry, and that would put an end to their budding affair. “Well, don’t wait too long to pen your own lines, Nathaniel. You might be keeping real talent from the world.”
“I appreciate the support. I…” His swallow was audible. “I haven’t had that in a long time.”
It seemed they were well-matched in more than a few ways. Not wanting to think about that either, Diana closed her eyes and let herself relax for the first time in a long while. Being bedded by a man who had quite the talent for intercourse had been amazing. Never had she felt so sated or content.
In this moment, it was enough. Tomorrow could take care of itself.