A Wretched Rake, page 7
She found his head, her fingers twining into his shortly cropped hair, pulling him closer as he focused on her tight nub of pleasure, his tongue swirling about the sensitive bud.
She moaned again, her toes curling as her hips lifted off the bed to give him better access.
He inserted a finger into her channel, the pressure so new and deliciously unexpected that she stilled, her eyes going wide.
And then he stroked some spot deep inside her that had her exploding with pleasure again.
It had been nothing like Isabelle had expected. This experience had been so much more. She refused to think about the future or what she’d come to understand about her feelings toward this man.
Instead, she focused on the now.
And right now, she knew she wasn’t the only one who needed a bit of pleasure.
She pulled at his hair, wanting to see his face. He obliged, sliding up her body, and she reveled in the feel of his weight on top of her. “I won’t take your maidenhead,” he murmured. “It’s too—”
She reached between his legs, cupping the thick length of him in her hand. His breeches were still on but that didn’t stop her from feeling the contours of his manhood. He rumbled out his enjoyment, pushing deeper into her palm.
She’d never been this bold. But with Bode…it just felt right. She felt neither shy nor unsafe. “I want to touch you the way you did me,” she whispered into the dark. “Let me make you feel as good too.”
Bode shook his head, trying to resist Isabelle’s words. He ought to be a gentleman. He’d done so much wrong since he’d met her. Hell, he’d done wrong most of his life, but with her fingers sliding along his girth, he couldn’t quite muster the ability to stop.
He wanted to claim her for his own. He knew it was true. And while her marriage was nothing short of a complete sham, he also refused to compromise her. She was too precious, too wonderful not to be treated with respect. She slid her hand down his shaft to the base and then further, cupping his balls, and erasing a fair bit of his good intentions. “Isabelle. I’m trying…”
“Don’t,” she said as she pushed him onto his back, her fingers plucking at the falls of his breeches.
His cock sprung free, his seed already weeping from the tip like an eager schoolboy. Then again, how long had it been since he’d engaged in anything like this?
Then again, Isabelle had been just as eager. He’d felt the power of her response. The way she’d practically exploded from his touch, which made him feel slightly better that he couldn’t hold back. His finish would not take long.
He’d wanted this woman from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her and as her graceful fingers, glowing in the sliver of moonlight, wrapped about his hard length, he knew he had no more will to fight off his desire.
But she wasn’t done. Her tongue flicked out, licking at the pearl of seed that had collected on the tip. He threw his head back, pushing up on his elbows as his guttural groan filled the room.
Her fingers slid down his length, her lips fanning out around the head. He thrust up, pushing into her mouth as another rumble of need escaped his lips. “Just like that,” he pushed out through gritted teeth, wrapping his fingers over her own to show her how to move.
Not that she needed much help.
Her hand glided up his length, her lips pressed down, taking him more deeply into her mouth until her lips met her hand.
The swirl of her tongue against the head, the wet slide of her lips, was all it took to tighten his balls, triggering his finish.
He was a man who prided himself on control. He never let go.
But not only had Isabelle lowered all his defenses, she pushed him past the point of reason in mere seconds, her touch sparking an orgasm that ripped through him, but his grunts of pleasure would surely awaken half the inn as he let loose a torrent.
Isabelle pulled back, her hand still wrapped around him as she watched his finish, her eyes wide.
His head fell back, his eyes closing. “Did I scare you, love?”
In answer, she kissed his tip once again. “Not at all. That was magnificent.”
Bode spent his time around women who were not in awe of the male orgasm and a laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Trust me when I say, it’s very mundane.”
She smiled at that, but then, leaning down, she kissed the head of his cock once again. “I shall like to try again and see if that is true. Because I suspect that nothing about you is mundane.”
Bode ought to say no to her offer of another tryst like this one. It was a bad idea, and not part of the plan for his life or even this journey, and deep down he knew, the closer that he and Isabelle became, the more dangerous this situation grew. Emotions always clouded judgment and his job here was to keep her safe.
The entire reason Bode had left London with her was because he couldn’t be the man that put a woman in danger.
But also, he wasn’t certain he could survive another loss like he’d experienced with his mother. He’d spent years holding himself apart from nearly everyone, to avoid that sort of heartache ever again.
Isabelle looked up at him from between his thighs, so stunningly beautiful in the moonlight. Her delicate features pleaded with him not to reject her, his lips softly parted as she waited for his answer, and he couldn’t hold himself back.
She’d experienced her own heartaches and he’d not do anything to make them worse, or cause new ones. “I’m not sure I could deny you even if I tried.”
“That’s encouraging.” She flashed him a small smile, sliding up his chest and settling her weight on him. “Because I’m not certain I wish to be denied.”
He wrapped her in his arms, grazing a kiss on her temple. “I think the sun will rise soon.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Enough,” he said, holding her tighter. “Which is why we should press on. At this pace, we’ll reach Scotland in another four days and then I’ll breathe easier.”
“Me too,” she said, but she snuggled deeper into his chest, her eyes closing. He wrapped his arms about her, kissing the top of her head.
He couldn’t deny her anything. Not even a snuggle.
CHAPTER TEN
The carriage rumbled down another dusty road, Isabelle as comfortable as one could be in a carriage with Bode’s chest once again acting as her pillow.
His arm supported her back as her legs curled up on the rest of the seat.
Bode stared out the window, silently observing the passing landscape.
“Still worried we’re being followed?” Isabelle asked, lifting her head to better study his profile.
He looked at her then, his features softer than she’d ever seen them. “Not as much. I’m more just marveling at the countryside.”
“Marveling.” She smiled, sliding her hand up his chest. “Why is that?”
“I’ve only ever left London one other time,” he answered, his gaze drifting back out the window. “It’s peaceful here. I like it.”
“One time?” she asked, her brows lifting. “I find that most unfortunate.” She had the sudden urge to show him all the places she loved in the world that were filled with trees and crystal-clear rivers.
His gaze returned to hers, his brows slashing into a straight line. “Why is that?”
“Because I far prefer the countryside to the city. Clean, bright, quiet. A person can really think and breathe out in the country.”
His features softened again. “I agree.”
She reached up, tracing another of his scars, the puckered flesh flexing under her finger. “We used to spend a great deal of time at one of my father’s country estates before it fell into disrepair. You should hear it on a summer evening. It’s loud too, but in such a beautiful way. Insects and birds chirping about as the breeze rustles the trees.”
He cocked his head, studying her as he asked, “The property fell into disrepair? How did that happen?”
She shrugged. “I know my father has a penchant for gambling and my mother for fine things. My father always seemed the more sensible of the two, but I’ve heard him muttering on several occasions about…”
“What?”
Isabelle looked away, a little hurt lancing through her. “He has no heir. His cousin will inherit the title when my father passes, and I think my father felt as though there was no reason to hold himself accountable.”
Bode rumbled out a protest. “Three daughters seem like a damn good reason to me.”
Isabelle chewed her lower lip. Bode was a man who took care of the women in his life. She’d bet he’d make an excellent father…
“We stopped going to Fairview when I was maybe twelve. My father changed, after that, though. Or perhaps I just remember him differently because I changed too. Prior to that, we seemed reasonably happy. But after…” She remembered her father drinking more, her parents fighting a great deal.
Isabelle had attempted to shield her sisters from the deep unhappiness that had settled about their family like a shroud. “My sisters are both wonderful. Kathryn is so smart that she’d steal your breath away, and Anna…sweetest person I know.”
His brows lifted. “Do they look like you?”
She nodded. “Oh yes. Same hair and eyes, both prettier though.”
“I doubt it.”
That made her smile. “With dowries, I’m sure we’ll be able to find them both wonderful husbands. Not lords, of course.”
“Why is that? Your father’s an earl.”
“My match with Makem taints not only me but them as well. A good match begets good matches. But a poor one…” She shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already told you that I don’t think a title makes a man. They’ll surely be able to marry merchants or second or third sons who have a trade or—”
“What about you?” Bode asked.
“What about me?”
“I asked you yesterday what you intended to do after we best Makem.”
She shrugged. “I can’t have the marriage annulled as you suggested. My sisters will lose their future.”
His abdomen tightened underneath her. “And if he were dead?”
She knew that Bode and Makem were locked in the sort of match that might result in death. Maybe even hers. Her “husband” had set fire to the house in which she’d been held captive. What would she do if he died, and she were left his widow?
“Would you marry a lord then?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Definitely not.”
“Why?”
She shook her head, not even sure herself. “Even before my father made the deal with Makem, I felt disconnected from that world. Maybe even disdainful.”
“And what do you think of my world?”
He sold women’s flesh…she knew that. “You are all working for your own survival. And yet still, you don’t abuse those women. From everything I hear, you protect them, help them onto a path that leads to a better life. Most lords I know could enact significant change and yet they do nothing but chase their own pleasure. Shades of my father…”
“Ah. I see.”
He surely did from what she understood about his past. “Besides, I’ve now stayed in two houses of ill-repute and participated in a chase across England.”
“An adventurer, now, are you?”
She laughed. “Maybe.”
He reached up to stroke her cheek. “So you won’t marry a lord.”
“I won’t marry at all unless the man is worth his salt,” she whispered, holding Bode’s gaze. He was worth a great deal more than salt. He was gold.
He looked away. “After what you’ve been through, I can’t blame you.”
“What about you? Will you ever marry?”
A frown pulled at his lips. “After watching my parents, I thought never to indulge in even a casual affair let alone marriage…”
Something raw ached in her chest at those words. She could hardly blame him but still.
“Duke and I made a pact we’d never wed. It seemed the best way to avoid the mistakes of our fathers to not involve ourselves with women at all.”
She ignored the hurt that pulsed through her. He had every right to feel that way and he’d made her no promises, nor had she asked for them. “How long did you live with Duke?”
“I was ten,” he answered. “He only left six months ago, so that would make it nineteen years.” Bode stared out the window, absently stroking her back. “Difficult as any man I’ve ever met but his heart is always in the right place. I’m not sure I would have made it out of the darkness without him.”
“How wonderful to have a friend like that.”
Bode’s gaze swung to her. “I know it. Just like I’m lucky to know you.”
She didn’t have a clue what he was suggesting. “I beg your pardon?”
“You are like him in this regard. You’re the person leading your sisters away from the darkness.”
She blinked in surprise. She’d met Duke and she’d not thought to herself that man and I are precisely alike.
But she did see his point. “Not currently. And I do worry about both Kathryn and Anna. I’ll have to go back to London at some point. They need me…”
Bode nodded. “We’ll get you back to them as soon as we can.”
Her heart gave another hopeful thrum. Did he have to go and sound so endearing? She respected his stance on relationships and marriage, but how was she supposed to hold herself apart when he went and said things like that?
As darkness fell, they reached the next inn and Bode groaned thanks. His legs ached…his body exhausted.
One room.
That was the plan.
A plan he’d agreed with for several reasons. He wanted her safe, wanted her close. Wanted her…
He shouldn’t allow himself to think these thoughts. He didn’t do sexual relationships. Not ever… Hell, he’d not even had a woman meet his needs in years, it was too risky for the life he’d chosen.
But something had shifted last night. Isabelle was too much to be denied. Her beauty and her grace soothed something in his tattered soul, her soft touches like a balm.
The driver knocked on the door, signaling their rooms were ready and Bode pulled his hat low, helping Isabelle from the carriage.
She walked on his arm, though her body was positioned a bit in front of his so that anyone who might glance at them would meet her eye, not his.
He tipped his hat lower as he flipped the collar of his coat up trying to mask his scars as much as possible on the short trip to their room.
They made their way into the darkened inn, bypassing the desk and headed for the stairs. The place was full, the common room bustling with activity and the loud calls of travelers and town folk alike.
And a group of men moved past them, one of the men brushing Bode’s shoulder.
“Pardon…” the man started but his voice drifted off as he looked at Bode’s face.
Gritting his teeth, Bode guided Isabelle up the stairs. His scars were too easily recognizable. If someone was following them…
They walked into their room as Bode attempted to decide if they should continue onto the next town or remain here for the night. He’d feel better if no one had seen him but what were the chances that one man would cause trouble?
A few seconds later, a knock sounded. “Dinner,” the innkeeper called. Isabelle opened the door and then took the tray of stew and bread.
He rose, closing the door behind her and turned the lock.
“You’re worried,” she murmured as she set the food down on the small table.
Bode frowned as he removed his hat, tossing it to the side. He was worried but now he was bothering Isabelle. She need not share in his concern. “I’m fine.”
He pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time. It was after ten in the evening. He scrubbed his neck as he slipped the watch back in his pocket.
They’d already paid for the room. They’d rest for a few hours and then start out again before dawn.
Decision made, he sat in the chair across from Isabelle eating the bowl of stew, the silence between them was comfortable as they both ate. She’d spent most of the day in his arms, and they’d reached some understanding, some connection, Bode had never shared with another person.
It was both beautiful and worrisome, but he pushed those thoughts to the side.
When Isabelle had finished, she pushed back from the table, bending down to remove her boots.
Even the simple act of watching her fingers on the buckles of the boot had him tightening with need, his cock thickening and lengthening.
There was no changing the path now, he’d taken Isabelle from London, and they’d be together for the next several days.
But he could hardly control his body’s response to her. She was skirting past his rules and overriding his judgment.
She stood then, shrugging off her jacket, and then pulled at the ties of her skirt. He’d been reaching for his Hessians when he sat up straight again. “What are you doing?”
She turned away, showing him her back. “Getting comfortable. I’m sick of these clothes.”
His jaw hardened. He’d seen what was underneath her clothing, Isabelle was beyond tempting. “I’m not certain—”
“Bode.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I just want a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
His jaw clenched as he stood, tugging off his own coat. He wanted that too. But far more than that, he wanted to feel her skin, slide his hands along her curves uninterrupted.
He knew he was losing what precious hold he had on his self-control. With a rumble, he tugged off his cravat even as he watched her peel off the top of her dress and then the small corset she wore underneath.
“I don’t think I’m going to bother putting the corset back on,” she murmured. “It makes the carriage even more uncomfortable.”
She stood in nothing but her chemise and stockings now, the firelight dancing in front of her, making the garment see-through.
