To Capture a Rake by Lori Brighton
He didn’t respond, merely moved his hands down her corset, releasing the bindings. The fact that he’d injured himself saving her warmed her in a way she’d never experienced before. He was doing his utmost to ignore the soft look she knew was spreading across her face. He didn’t want her kind words or generous emotions. No, he’d been alone so very long, and like a wild animal trapped, he wasn’t sure where to turn, what to do. She’d have to step carefully with him.
“You saved me…again.”
She used the excuse of his injuries to touch him, running her fingers down his chest, over those muscles and ribs. He sucked in a sharp breath, although she had a feeling it wasn’t because of pain but because of her touch. She shifted, settling her knees on either side of his muscled thighs. She didn’t want him because she needed him. She didn’t want him because he was bloody attractive. She didn’t want him because he had saved her. She wanted him because she saw the true man deep within. Boldly, she reached down, curving her fingers over the hard mound pressing to his trousers.
“Dear God,” he muttered, lowering those thick lashes to his upper cheeks.
The look upon his face emboldened her. He liked her touch, he liked her. His hands cupped her bottom once more, pulling her closer. She found the button on his trousers and with an eagerness she couldn’t hide, managed to free his cock. Lord, she wanted him.
“I know you’re in charge,” she said, wrapping her finger around his velvety rod. He was incredibly beautiful, everywhere. And the look of pure pleasure that crossed his handsome face as she moved her fingers up and down his cock nearly took her breath away. There was no time for shyness. “But I want you, Gideon.”
He growled low in his throat and shoved aside her hands. “Then you shall have me.”
He stood, lifting her with ease and cradling her against his chest. In three steps he was at the bed. He settled her on the soft sheets and then tore the clothes from his body so that he stood deliciously naked in front of her. How she wished she could study him for hours. How she wished she had the talent of an artist so she might sculpt his perfect body. But in the back of her mind was the taunting worry that this could all end at any moment. She reached out, eager to have him near. The weight of his body was like heaven. Did he have any idea how he drove her mad?
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” she whispered, drawing her fingers down the side of his face, over the rough scruff along his jaw.
He looked flustered, uncertain, disarmed. “I don’t believe anyone has ever called me that.”
She realized with sad resignation that he’d had few compliments. “Well, you are. A work of art.” Women did not compliment him, they used him. And hadn’t she brought him here to use him as well? She pushed the guilt-ridden thought aside. “You should be in a museum.”
“Shhh.” He pressed his mouth to hers while his hands traveled up her thighs, sliding the soft material of her shift to her waist.
She understood, he didn’t want to talk, he only wanted to feel. While his tongue delved between her lips, he gripped her undergarments and jerked them down her legs. He shifted, resting his knee between her thighs. It was different this time, his movements slower…softer as his large hands merely skimmed her body. She never would have guessed that he could be so gentle.
She arched her feet against his bulge of his calf muscles, the crisp hair on his legs tickling her toes. He kissed her gently, as if they had all the time in the world while his fingers, yes, his fingers, slid up the inside of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of heat. She could kiss him forever. Touch him until eternity.
When his finger found her damp folds and slipped into her tight sheath, Elizabeth groaned against his mouth. The man was pure and utter magic. She lifted her hips to take him farther, deeper. Never in her life had she felt more alive than she did at that moment.
“God, I want you,” he whispered, his breath warm across her lips.
“Take me,” she begged, her fingers biting into his shoulders.
That aching pressure was building between her legs. He shifted, his knee spreading her thighs apart. That velvety cock rubbed against her damp folds, tempting and torturing. Elizabeth bit back her cry, her fingernails piercing his skin. Damn him, why wouldn’t he come inside her and end the torment? She was no longer some whimpering virgin; there was no need to go slow.
Was he torturing her on purpose? She met his hooded gaze but found no amusement in his eyes. Only desperation, need, desire shone within those silver depths. Elizabeth ran her hands down his broad back, over his tight arse, needing to touch every inch of the man. She was amazed by the fluidity of his body, the way his muscles rolled underneath his skin. She wanted him with a desperation she didn’t understand, a need that frightened her.
He tore his mouth from hers and pressed his lips to the valley between her breasts. “You smell so damn good.” With a jerk of his hands, her shift was over her head and she was utterly naked.
He cupped her heavy breasts. The mounds grew heavy, her hardened nipples so very sensitive against his palms. She needed more, so much more. When his mouth settled over a tight nipple, she cried out, lifting her hips. Excruciating pleasure shot down her body, pooling between her legs. It was too much, too damn much. Elizabeth slid her fingers into his silky hair, tugging hard against the locks.
“Please, dear God,” she cried out, unsure what she asked for.
He lifted his head, their gazes clashing. “How I want you.”
There was a heated look to his eyes, as if he was half-foxed with desire. Oh, he could have her. Anytime, anywhere. But he wasn’t done torturing her. He lowered his head and kissed a trail down her stomach. So very sinful! Her muscles tightened, quivering. Anticipation tasted sweet. He was gentle, actually caring, but there was no mistake…contract or not, he controlled her. How silly to think she could rule this man.
He paused, his breath warm against her thighs. “I need to taste you.”
Elizabeth stiffened, confused. “Gideon?”
Before she could protest, or even understand, he lowered his head and slipped his tongue between the folds hiding her femininity. Elizabeth cried out, arching her back. She hadn’t known, never could she have known, it would be like this. The torment was unbearable, and the way he made her feel terrified her. She knew without a doubt she would beg if need be.
The aching pleasure blinded her to everything but his touch. It was a dreamworld of sensual delight that he had created. A world where no one existed but them, a world that made no bloody sense, but she couldn’t seem to care. Yes, she’d reside in Gideon’s dreamworld for as long as he wished. When her body tightened and she was close, so bloody close to that heavenly pleasure, he pulled away. Her groan came out as a strangled plea. He was most definitely torturing her.
“Please,” she murmured weakly, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck to draw him close. But she didn’t just want his body. No, she wanted him. She wanted this caring man, she wanted the lord who had taken charge in the field. The knight in shining armor who had saved her life.
Gideon rested atop her, his weight delicious and comforting. Those eyes, those stormy eyes burned into her. In that moment, for a brief flash, she thought she might have seen his soul. She felt his cock pulse hard and hot and heavy between her thighs, and her thoughts fluttered away like butterflies on a breeze. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. His movements were not practiced and rehearsed as they had been their first night at the inn. Nor was he touching her to prove a point, as he had in the woods. She shifted, parting her legs farther, attempting to bring him close. He was merely a man who needed a woman. Needed her.
“Tell me you want me,” he demanded, his gaze hard, uncompromising.
“I do,” she whispered the truth, in no mood to play the shy maiden. That ship had sailed the moment he’d stepped into her carriage at Lady Lavender’s.
Her ready response seemed to appease him. Clenching his jaw, he shoved his knee between her thighs and shif
“God, you’re tight.” He lifted his hips, pulling out just enough to surge into her once more. “And you’re mine.”
“Yes.” Desperate, she wrapped her legs around his thighs, holding him close. She would have agreed to anything at the moment, as long as he didn’t cease his delightful torture. How was it that he knew exactly where to touch her? How to move? What to say?
He lifted his hips and thrust forward again and again. The friction of his cock sent her body spiraling. Desire burned with pleasure and need, combining in a desperate storm. “Please, Gideon.”
She ran her hands down his sleek back, clawing at him like a kitten with a toy. This was different. There was something more in his movements, in the way he touched her gently and murmured sweet words that might tempt an innocent. The way he brushed his hands down her body as if attempting to soothe her.
“More,” she begged in a whimper.
He trembled in her arms as if he needed her as much as she needed him. Elizabeth felt as if she stood on the very sun. Gideon rocked against her, finding a rhythm as one. She never wanted it to stop. Never wanted him to leave her body, never wanted him to leave her. He could so easily break her heart, but at the moment it didn’t matter.
Her body tightened with each forceful stroke of his cock. Nothing mattered but Gideon. Frantically, she wrapped her legs more tightly around his, desperately and possessively clinging to him. A helpless vulnerability shimmered through her, but the need to find fulfillment overwhelmed any good sense.
He gripped her bottom and lifted her, at the same time driving into her. In that moment she no longer breathed. Couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. The entire bedchamber disappeared. Elizabeth’s entire world exploded, brilliant white stars dancing behind her eyelids as pleasure rippled through her body.
Vaguely, she was aware of Gideon tightening. With a groan, he buried himself deeply, and the warmth of his seed spilled within. She was too content to be shocked. He slumped onto her, his body slick and heavy, his breathing harsh in her ear. Slowly, she became aware of him. The thunder of his heart against hers. The tickle of the crisp hair of his legs against her shins and thighs. The way his cock still throbbed inside her.
She closed her eyes, swallowing over the sudden lump of emotion that clogged her throat. When she’d imagined Gideon, she’d pictured a man in need. A man she could save. But he had saved her. The urge to wrap her arms around him and hold him close overwhelmed her. But she knew any show of compassion would only drive a man like him away.
He braced his elbows into the mattress on either side of her and rolled onto his back, pulling free of her body. She felt his absence as if he’d reached into her chest and torn out her heart, holding it aloft like a pirate’s treasure. For a long moment, neither of them moved, but merely lay on their backs, staring up at the cherubic fresco above. The clock on the mantel clicked the minutes by. One minute. Three. Five.
What in the bloody hell had just happened?
Elizabeth dared to glance at Gideon. His eyes were closed, his breathing even. As he lay upon his back with a muscled arm thrown over his head, he seemed almost asleep. She took the opportunity to study him. With his hair mussed and his face relaxed, he looked almost innocent…although he could never look boyish. Merely a mortal man with a heart, with a soul.
She had to resist the urge to scoot next to him. How she wished she could curl into his body and spend the night in his arms. She wanted this man. She wanted to share a bed and a life with him. She wanted to know what it was like to be truly married.
But it wasn’t to be…not yet. Gideon wasn’t ready, and if she offered her heart now, she would only frighten him away. Forcing herself to move, she slid from the bed, setting her bare feet upon the carpet. She didn’t dare look back to see if he truly slept, for if he was awake, he would read the emotion in her eyes and her indifferent ruse would be up. As quietly as possible, she pulled her shift over her head and scooped up the rest of her clothing.
“Where are you going?”
Gideon’s question caught her off guard. Elizabeth froze halfway to the door. Taking in a deep breath, she steeled her resolve. She could pretend that they had merely been intimate and it had meant nothing more. She could pretend that he meant nothing more. Forcing her lips upward, she faced him. Gideon watched her warily from the bed, his hands tucked underneath his head, the sheet at his hips.
“I thought…I thought you were done with me.” She flinched at her own words, flinched a second time when his curious gaze grew hard. She had the odd feeling she’d offended him. She prayed she had, for if the words had hurt him in some way, then it was proof there was hope for them after all.
“I merely…I wanted to check on the children, and I wasn’t sure you wanted me to stay…”
“Go.” His voice was soft.
He wasn’t angry, but she had a feeling he was disappointed. Her forced smile turned into something real. Elizabeth turned her head to hide the merriment and opened the door. He did feel. He did care. Yes, as much as she didn’t want to, leaving him now would be for the best. She quietly shut the door behind her. The hall was silent, the house still, but she swore she could still feel Gideon behind that wall. Feel him pulsing within her as if they’d become one.
She pressed her palm to the door, resisting the urge to return to him and knowing it was best to leave. “Be very, very careful, Gideon. We just may get our happily ever after.”
Chapter 12
Gideon couldn’t sleep. Not even after arriving at Lady Lavender’s as a confused and anxious lad had slumber been elusive. But here, where Elizabeth’s scent clung to the sheets and her very presence seemed to fill the room, he couldn’t rest. Somehow the woman had crawled into his body, had sunk her claws into his chest and clung to his soul. Worst of all, she had made him care.
He raked his hands through his hair and paced the room. She’d made him care about her blasted children. Made him care about this estate. Worst of all, she’d made him care about her. Yes, he cared. He could at the very least admit the truth to himself. The problem was…did she care?
She’d practically flown from his bed last night, obviously eager to escape. And why would she want him for anything more than sex? He was a whore. Never before had he felt ashamed of what he did and he sure as hell wouldn’t now. His strides became longer, hurried. Aye, he was a whore, and he readily admitted and accepted it.
Restless, Gideon tore open his bedroom door and moved out into the hall, his bedchamber too small for his thoughts. He’d been waiting like a pathetic sop after he’d sent that summons and she’d appeared like some bloody angel come to bless his soul.
Gideon turned down yet another long hall, unsure of where he headed, as the house was a blasted maze. Breakfast was no doubt waiting below, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of eating, and more importantly seeing Elizabeth’s emotional gaze and the children’s innocent smiles. No, he couldn’t face her. Not when he wasn’t even sure what she wanted from him or who the hell he was anymore. She wanted a whore and a guard, that much was obvious. But did she want more?
He paused at a window overlooking the immense front lawn. Did he want more? It didn’t matter because Elizabeth was a lady and could have her pick of men. He didn’t belong in this world. He was a lost cause. Bracing hands on either side the pane, he closed his eyes. Last evening when he’d seen the flash of a gun…
Gideon swallowed hard. Elizabeth could have died. Shot dead in a field, her life gone within moments. Even now the thought sent pure rage through his body, leaving him chilled and trembling. His fingers tightened as he resisted the urge to smash his hand through that glass window.
And bec
Never had he come so quickly and thoroughly in a woman. He prided himself on always holding back. But he’d lost any sense of control last night, hearing her sweet moans, touching her soft body and watching her come. Hell, Elizabeth could be with child now, and the thought made him ill. He wasn’t good enough for her, and he sure as hell wasn’t good enough to be a father. The mere thought of having a child, a child he might ruin as his father had ruined him, sent panic clawing through his gut.
His footsteps quickened, as if he could outrun his demons. But as he entered a long and wide room, he wondered who he was angrier with, himself for losing his grasp on reality or Elizabeth for almost bringing him to his knees.
He was vaguely aware of the polished parquet floors, the marble columns that divided the long room, and the myriad of expensive paintings that covered the white walls. A portrait gallery. Some of the artists he recognized, some were unknown. But one thing stood out clear…money. Elizabeth had money. She deserved to marry a lord. Someone who would bring her respect and honor.
“Set it there.” The sound of the dowager’s voice brought a sour taste to his mouth and only added to his anger.
Gideon found the woman near the far wall, her back to him, poor Will standing next to her. His fingers curled as disgust burned a path through his body. He’d never physically harmed a female, but the urge to wrap his hands around her wrinkled neck was almost too much to bear. She wore a dull black gown that went well with the air of dreariness that hovered around her, much like the dark clouds hugging the hills outside. Gideon forced his hands to unclench, forced himself to release the breath of air he held.