The Irresistible Miss Peppiwell (Scandalous House of Calydon 2)

Chapter Eleven

Even with her face florid from tears, the sight of Phillipa, and her heartfelt plea, aroused Anthony more than any other woman. He felt shocked she would dismiss marriage to him, under the circumstances. No woman had ever looked at him with such naked physical need, and yet it seemed she did not share the same hunger for more.

Her rejection roiled within him like bad ale.

She could not know the anxiety that had gripped him when he thought he wouldn’t reach her in time. Or the terror when he saw her in the woods, thinking he was too late. Her dress had been torn, her face stained with tears, her lips swollen and bruised. The raw relief in her golden gaze at seeing his face had been worth the relentless pace he’d punished himself and his horse to travel.

Her misery over her plight punched deep inside him. Desire flared, but he tempered it, needing to offer her comfort with his touch. He began to remove his wet clothes. He did not stop to analyze the need that seethed within him—the urge to bind her to him, to experience the fire she vibrated with. He wanted to explore every curve, taste her skin, and immerse himself in her shuddering cries.

The dart of her tongue to moisten her lips sharpened the edgy arousal he felt. He shrugged out of his waistcoat and unbuttoned his shirt with impatience.

The overlarge gown slipped, revealing perfection to his eyes. She let it slide from her shoulders and it anchored at her elbows. The sleek, graceful line of her neck and the pertness of her breasts lured him. He pulled her to him until the tips of her breasts grazed his chest. He savored the feel of her almost-naked body so intimately close to him, loving her sharp inhalation at his touch.

Desire flowed through her eyes, along with an emotion that made him halt. She shivered and swallowed, and he realized she was afraid.

She leaned into him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. The rain drummed on the roof, the wood in the fireplace crackled, and embers sparked. And still she did not move.

He grasped her chin and lifted her face. “What is wrong?”

She regarded him wordlessly, her eyes fearful. She squeaked as he swung her up in his arms and strode to the bed. He tumbled her down then captured her slender wrists and held them above her head. “Tell me. What is it?” he demanded.

Her eyes smoldered and darkened with desire, but chilling reserve crept into them trying to dampen it.

“Do not shy away from me, Phillipa.” He kissed the corner of her lips.

“I have secrets,” she murmured. “Ones that may repel you from me.”

“You speak of the impossible, my sweet,” he assured her.

She tugged, and he released her wrists. She touched him as if unable to stop herself. Light caresses danced over his neck, his face, his lips, and his shoulders.

“I am not innocent,” she said softly. Her voice was a hoarse rasp, and she trembled in his embrace.

Something primitive tightened in his gut. The ice maiden was no innocent. He suddenly understood her aloofness, the iciness with which she looked at him, even now in her nakedness.

She expected judgment. Condemnation.

He felt neither. Instead, lust coiled around his insides, dark and inviting, and he welcomed it. He dipped his head, holding her gaze. He slanted his lips over hers, nipping her whenever her eyes fluttered. He wanted them open, so she could see the honest craving for her that lived deep within him. He was gentle, lips roving with soft teasing flicks instead of the hunger that gnawed at him.

He pulled away, leaving a hair’s breadth between their mouths. “Neither am I.”

The sweetest smile curved her lips. A groan whispered from him as he pictured them stretched around his cock. The tension slowly eased from her taut frame. She slid her arms around his shoulders, and with a contented sigh, opened to him.

He groaned as he delved deeper with his tongue to twine sensually with hers. Her hand gripped his hair, her fingers combed through it as she clung to him.

And he wondered who was the one being seduced.

Desire punched him, hard and potent. He reluctantly released her mouth. “If you want me to stop, say so now.”

“No. I don’t want you to stop.” She exhaled shakily.

He went straight for her breasts. His mouth covered a nipple that was ripe like a berry. He rolled it between his teeth before sucking. Her hips undulated, and her hot whimpers raked at his control. He nudged her legs wide and settled between them. Then gave equal attention to her other nipple.

Her cries became more frantic, her hands kneaded his shoulder, and nails dug into his skin. He released her nipple and trailed his fingers down her throat. He shifted and trailed them farther down, resting on her stomach. She quivered beneath him with restless hunger. He skimmed even lower, and her hands tightened painfully in his hair. He combed through her curls and delved into her with two fingers. “I knew you’d be this wet for me,” he murmured against her lips.

He thrust slow and deep, preparing her. Her eyes widened when he opened his fingers inside her, stretching her. Her folds were swollen and slick, and she felt impossibly tight. He trailed his fingers down the crack of her buttocks.

Her tongue darted to her lips hesitantly. “Anthony?”

He reined in the desire that twisted at his gut. He needed to slow down and introduce her to his darker passions gradually. He would take her in every way imaginable, but tonight he would start by riding her into boneless pleasure.

He stroked and caressed her until she was as needy as he was. Her hips squirmed on the bed, demanding his possession. He grabbed a cushion, easing it under her hips, then rose above her.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

He drew her up so her buttocks rested on his thighs. He parted her with his fingers, lodged the head of his cock against her entrance, and sank inside an inch. She felt incredibly tight, too snug for someone who professed experience. She rewarded him with a pulse of silken wetness and a provocative mewl. He sank a little deeper, and she stiffened.

“Relax,” he soothed. Her tightness had him gritting his teeth savagely.

The pale creaminess of her stomach quivered as she met his gaze. Her body resisted despite her slickness, so he ruthlessly stamped down the need to take her in one swift move. She claimed she was not innocent, but he guessed she had no knowledge of what innocent truly meant.

She thought the loss of a virginal barrier meant anything. As her lover he would devastate her sensibilities, and he would not hold back. He wanted to explore all his desires with her for he knew he wanted her as his wife.

He would not allow his bastardy to taint her or their children. He would crush anyone who threatened to allow it to surface.

He groaned as he sank another inch into her. He had never before felt the incredible sensation that arched up his spine and bowed his back. Hell, he was not even a quarter way into her, and he was perilously close to spending. His hips jerked and he sank deeper than he intended.

“Anthony!” Her nails bit into his arms and her hips recoiled into the bed.

“It will be quick.” He forged forward inexorably, needing to be surrounded by her heat.

Her cry echoed in the chamber, and he froze instantly. Sweat rolled down his forehead. He slowly glided out of her, his breath hissing between his teeth. His desire heightened as he saw how her juices glistened on his thick length.

He dropped his forehead against hers, trying to cool his raging hunger. He was not a small man, and he’d always been rough in his desires. But he wanted to give her more than pleasure. He wanted her to know that she would always be comforted, protected, treasured.

That she would always be safe in his arms.

…

Phillipa had never felt such yearning from mere kisses. Yet, she felt instinctively that Anthony restrained himself. The vitality he exuded seemed leashed, and even now she could feel the tension radiating from his muscles.

His girth made it hard for her to relax. The bite of pain with the pleasure when he entered her f

ully had enthralled her. She rolled her hips, undulating to a need she did not fully understand.

“Anthony,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t want to be a lover you have to hold back with.”

He froze and looked down at her.

So, she had been right. Her heart stuttered. She was swamped in carnal pleasure and he had been holding back?

Her nipples hardened even more at the look that darkened his eyes. She shivered as his hands tightened almost painfully on her hips.