Lessons in Indiscretion (The Merry Widows 1)

“Garrett.” He loved it when she said his name. It made him feel alive, needed, wanted, desired.

He moved within her, withdrawing almost completely before pushing back inside. A trembling breath escaped her, and he watched, entranced by her beauty. She was wrapped up in sensation, her head rubbing against the door with his every thrust, her eyes closed, her lips parted. Unable to resist, he kissed her, thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, and she accepted him, tangling her tongue with his.

“Harder,” she urged against his mouth, and he smiled.

“Only if you promise to be quiet.” She was a screamer, his Julia, and he couldn’t have her drawing every attendee of this cursed ball into the library with one of her climax-induced shouts.

“I cannot make that promise.” A little cry escaped even now as he increased his thrusts, pounding her against the door, giving her what she wanted.

“Then I shall have to make sure you don’t bring the roof down.”

He pushed inside her, harder, faster, brutally taking her. She reveled in it, her moans growing louder with his every thrust. Her inner walls squeezed him tight, signaling her climax was near. She was close. He knew her body very well, and he increased his pace, ready to explode.

Her lips parted, and a shuddering scream began to sound with the onslaught of her orgasm. He clamped a hand over her mouth, making sure she could breathe through her nose. Keeping his hand there, he stared into her big brown eyes as he took her, his orgasm hitting him so hard that his entire body tensed before he spilled inside her with an agonizing groan.

Dropping his hand, he rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath, to calm his racing heart. She appeared to do much the same. Her shuddering, hot breaths blasted against his face, making him want to kiss her again. Take her again and never let her go.

“We should go back,” she said, reluctance tingeing the words.

“Your dance card full again this evening, my lady?” He winced the moment he said it. He sounded like a jealous fool.

Maybe because he was.

She laughed, didn’t even seem to notice his churlishness. “I don’t understand it. These last few days of the season I’ve suddenly become rather popular.”

Garrett was incredulous. Did she not see? Her radiance, her confidence—they shone through and brought her the attention she rightfully deserved. There were many titled ladies who believed all eyes should focus on them, but none could hold a candle to Julia’s natural beauty, her easy charm.

All she’d needed was someone to pay attention to her, tell her she was lovely, make her believe she was worthy. And now she reigned supreme.

He could at least take comfort in that he was the one who brought that spark forth. The spark of life that glowed from within. She’d just needed someone to show her she was wanted.

And he was the one who did that.

Slowly he withdrew and tucked himself back into his trousers. Relaxing his hold on her waist, he lowered her until her feet settled onto the ground and her skirts fell to cover her. She smoothed a tremulous hand over her hair, smiled up at him, and his heart panged hard when he saw the sweet softness reflected in her eyes.

God, if he wasn’t careful, he could fall in love with her.

Julia knew she looked a fright. Her hair felt loose from its coiffure, and her cheeks and chest must be flushed from their lovemaking. Garrett looked gorgeous, his dark hair mussed, his eyes brimming with passion and his lips damp and swollen from their kisses. Her knees grew weak as she greedily watched him, and she wanted him all over again.

She wanted him all the time. It was rather disconcerting.

“I should return to the ballroom. I promised Sir Reginald a dance,” she murmured. Her smile faded when she caught his scowl. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like all of those men…touching you.” He stepped away as if he needed distance, and she felt lonely without him so close.

“It’s nothing, Garrett. Really.” She went to him and cupped his tense jaw. She stroked his face, felt the prick of stubble. He’d become rather lazy, neglecting to shave on occasion. She didn’t mind, though the whisker burn he left behind on her skin sometimes irritated her.

She believed he secretly enjoyed seeing it. He had left his mark on her.

“You do realize you belong to me, don’t you? At least for tonight?” His dark, possessive tone sent a thrill down her spine, and she caressed the slight indentation of his chin with her index finger.

“Yes, Garrett.” She dropped her hand, disappointment crashing through her. Why did he always have to mention how temporary their affair was? Yes,

she was the one who wanted it to be temporary from the start but her feelings had slowly changed. How could she admit she wanted…more?

He didn’t want more. He wanted this, what they already shared. There were only two official engagements left before the season ended, which meant their time together would end as well. They would part, and he would escape to the country while she stayed alone in London.

Without him.