But she wanted what he did as much as he did.
She rolled on top of him, her mouth fused to his as she worked the buttons of his trousers while her silk dressing gown fell away, exposing her breasts.
Heat speared her as he latched onto her right nipple, suckling, as she shimmied his breeches down past his knees until he was almost as naked as she was.
Just as she wanted him.
She had the power. On top, caging his body with hers as he laved at her breasts with his tongue, she wriggled into position, grasping, pumping his member while their breaths intertwined, mingling with increasing excitement.
Their bodies were attuned, their desires on par.
But their minds were so very much at odds.
He thrust into her when she was more than ready, her womb quivering with need, her entrance slick with want. And when he climaxed, she came too; her cries and gasps triggered by the sensation of being wanted by the only man for whom she’d felt desire, even if his lovemaking was driven by something so far from what she’d have wished.
“And this is what you enjoy with Wilfred Hunt?” he demanded, rolling onto his side when his panting had subsided sufficiently to speak, and his anger was finely tuned enough to turn its blaze upon her.
Enjoyed? That’s hardly how she would have put it, but she had to maintain sufficient barrier between them until Felix had asked Annabelle for her hand in marriage. Every word she said now, every action, risked her sister’s future happiness, but if somehow she could successfully navigate a tenuous path towards a future rapprochement between her and Felix, she would try.
“I am not in the habit of comparing lovers,” she said, sitting up and encircling her knees with her arms as she tilted her head to look at him. Hurt and anger blazed from his entire body, so she turned away. It would take so little to sink into his embrace and cling. He mustn’t know how much she wished only for him.
He put his hands behind his head as he contemplated the ceiling, the covers twisted about his shapely flanks. “You are the only woman I ever wanted.” He spoke softly, his voice heavy with hurt and recrimination. “That night
, at the Hunt Ball, I realised my obsession with you was not going away.”
“Obsession?” He’d not used the word before though it was what he’d insinuated, and it’s what she’d felt for her own part. A deep, abiding obsession that simply grew more acute with every encounter.
“Whenever I came down from school, then later, university, I always hoped I might see you. It’s the only reason I attended church so meekly and obediently in accordance with my mother’s wish every Sunday. And you smiled at me, Hope.” He cleared his voice. “You gave me hope that you returned my feelings for you. The look on your face when you gazed up at me from the ground where you’d fallen from horse. Do you remember how you looked?”
She smiled. The memory of every second of that day had sustained her through many a terrible ordeal—the handsome viscount’s son, galloping after her, separating from the rest of the party, their shared laughter as they dared each other to more dangerous jumps over fallen tree trunks and hedges, until Hope’s mount had balked at a jump, and she’d flown through the air and landed on her back on a soft, grassy knoll.
The horror and concern upon his face as he loomed above her, the distance between their mouths lessening until it was inevitable they’d kiss. And the rude interruption of Annabelle’s cries.
Annabelle had galloped over, enquiring with false solicitude if Hope was uninjured but her interest—no, longing—for Felix was unmistakable while her suspicions had clearly been aroused.
Not that there’d been anything to be suspicious about until that moment. And even that had not, in fact, amounted to anything.
“It’s true; I wanted you, but I also knew there could be nothing between us,” Hope said slowly. “It had long been assumed that you and Annabelle would make a match, so I was not about to go breaking my heart.” She swallowed, painfully, but said brightly, “And now you and Annabelle will make the match that will please your mamas. I am quite clearly ruined for you, but I was always warned by my mother to be careful around you for she feared I might be preyed upon for something other than marriage. It’s the danger facing every penniless young woman with any claim to beauty.”
“And you assumed I’d behave like any young man trading on his privilege to get what he wanted, even dishonourably.” He didn’t look at her as he rose from the bed and began to dress. His tone now matched hers: cool and detached. “You never took the trouble to know me, Hope, but if that’s how you believe my character was formed, I suppose it would only ever have been about the sex. You enjoy that part, at least, it seems. Nothing more.” He spoke through his teeth as he shrugged on his jacket, then did up his collar before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a roll of banknotes. “How much do you charge for fifteen minutes of sex? I’m not in the habit of these kinds of transactions. One hundred?”
“That’s more than generous.”
“I’ll make it two. It will probably be the last time.”
“Probably? I thought you enjoyed it.” With an effort, Hope kept her voice light as she leaned across the bed that separated them to reach for the money.
“I believe you’re weighing up an offer from Lord Westfall. I heard it at my club.” He closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. “He’s a great deal richer than I am.”
“But not as handsome as you, Felix. Or as satisfying a lover.” Hope plucked her dressing gown from the end of the bed and shrugged into it, careful to appear heedless of his feelings. “He’s due here shortly, so I must prepare myself. You realise what Madame Chambon would do if she caught you trespassing? I don’t know how you slipped past her guard, but let me reassure you that I enjoyed our little session very much. I’m sorry I stole Wilfred’s promissory note from you. That was naughty of me but I’m glad you’re not too angry. I’m glad you came back for more of what we enjoyed this afternoon.” She tucked a curl behind one ear and gave him a meaningful smile. “And I hope that when you’ve fulfilled your matrimonial obligations and given Annabelle the husbandly attention every new wife deserves, you will call on me again.”
Hope had no concern whatsoever for Annabelle. Charlotte was a different matter. Until her sister was safely married, she wasn’t about to put a foot wrong.
“I suppose if I’m in the market for sex with no strings attached and no danger of my heart becoming engaged, then a heartless jade like you would suit my purposes.” He finished buttoning his jacket at the door then bowed his head. “It was, perhaps, a good thing we’ve had this conversation. It’s brought me clarity, for I’d always believed you felt…something…for me.” He touched his heart. “Something that might have grown into what I felt for you. Now I realise you always were the hardened little trollop my mother called you and, certainly, this way of life has hardly softened you.”
Chapter 11
Hope threw herself face down on the bed and held her breath as she listened to his footsteps pounding down the passage. She was unprepared when the door was pushed open and Faith’s voice floated tentatively through her distress.