She shivered. “Your hands on me, your mouth . . .”
His pulse quickened. “And if I offered you those things, in the spirit of honesty between us, would you be shocked by my behavior?”
“No, as I said, you are a man.”
“But if, as your mother insists, we are sexual equals, why shouldn’t you get what you desire?”
She didn’t speak, but her body angled away from him, poised for flight. He held out his hand.
“Marguerite . . .”
She turned slowly, and he pulled her hard against him. In truth, he hadn’t expected to be exercising his newfound skills quite so quickly, but he wasn’t about to let Marguerite down again. He sought her mouth, kissing her lips until she opened to him. Her hand curved around the base of his skull, keeping him close.
She moaned against his mouth, the plaintive sound enough to make him hard and encourage his hands to roam her body at will.
“Please . . .”
He kissed her throat, her ear, the line of her jaw.
“What do you want, Marguerite?”
She grabbed his right hand and settled it over her breast. He ran his fingers along the edge of her bodice and the silk whispered back. Sliding the tip of his index finger below the fabric, he found her nipple already hard and ready for him. God, he wanted to taste her there.
He drew her back over his arm and bent his head, shoved aside as much of her bodice and corset as he could and settled his mouth over her breast. Her fingers tightened in his hair, urging him on even as his hand slid over her hip and rucked up her skirts and petticoat. He cupped her mound in his palm and held still.
“Do you want me here?”
“Yes, oh please, yes.”
He thumbed her swollen bud, felt her shiver in his arms and slid one finger through her slick wet heat, his heart pounding, his breathing as uneven as hers. This meant so much more with Marguerite; his desire to please her knew no boundaries. He began to move his finger in and out, wondered how his cock would feel doing the same, wanted to come at the very thought of it.
“More, give me more.”
He smiled as she arched against him, her sex pressing into his trapped hand, so demanding for such a petite woman, so sure of what she needed from him. She shuddered as he added two more fingers and pumped harder. Her whole body shook as she climaxed and clung to him as if he offered her everything a man could give her. For a glorious moment, he felt as if he could even be that man.
After she finished clenching and writhing against his fingers, he simply held her balanced on his palm, her whole body relaxed against him, as languid and satisfied as a kitten. Her curls tickled his face and he bent his head to nuzzle her neck.
“Better?”
She shifted in his arms. He reluctantly raised his head as she pushed him away.
“What did I do now?”
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her hair disordered, her skirt creased, and yet she looked more beautiful to him than she ever had before. He found himself grinning at her like a fool and realized she wasn’t smiling back.
“You gave me what I asked for.”
“And that was wrong?”
She raised her chin to look him in the eyes. “No, it was . . . wonderful.”
“Then why aren’t you happy?”
“Because you proved to me how much I want to be bedded.”
Anthony sighed. God, why were women so complicated? At least a man took his pleasure and walked away without having to analyze every second of it.
“I’ll bed you if you want.”
She briefly closed her eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
She moved suddenly toward the stairs, pausing to look over her shoulder at him. “Now I’ll be dreaming about you all night.”
“And that is a bad thing? I’ll be dreaming about you too.” He held out his hand again. “If you really want me, come back inside and we’ll find a room.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . I can’t.”
Anthony let his hand fall back to his side. “I’m not good enough for you now?”
“That’s not what I said!”
He bowed, aware of an ache in his cock and, ridiculously, his heart. “Perhaps you’d prefer to experiment with someone else?”
Marguerite sighed. “You are being stupid, and I am in no state to argue with you anymore. Come and see me tomorrow, and we’ll discuss this in a reasonable manner.”
“But I don’t feel reasonable.”
“I can see that.”
He watched as she sped down the stairs, skirts flying, and her kid slippers barely making a sound. Part of him wanted to follow her, push her against the wall and bury his thick shaft deep inside her until she screamed her release. He slammed his hand into the wall, enjoying the pain that shot up his arm.
But what if she really was done with him? He pressed his forehead into the cold unforgiving brick. God, he hated this self-doubt. Minshom had done this to him, and he needed to stop believing it. At the thought of his tormentor, Anthony’s frustrated cock started to throb in anticipation. Was that what he really needed now? To go up to the third floor, kneel in front of Minshom and repent for his stupid fantasy that he could connect sexually with a woman?
A sound below him made him straighten up and spin around. Was Marguerite coming back? His shaft responded with enthusiasm. But it wasn’t a woman’s light tread on the stairs. It was a man’s heavier footfall.
Anthony leaned back against the wall as Captain David Gray appeared on the landing, hat in hand, blue coat unfastened as if he’d just arrived. He hesitated when he saw Anthony, but his smile was warm.
“What are you doing here?”
Anthony simply stared at him. He’d known David for years, knew that his friend had no illusions about what he was or what he wanted.
“I’m hiding, I suppose.”
“From what?”
“From myself.”
David nodded as if Anthony made perfect sense. “I haven’t seen you on the third floor for a while. Is that what you’re trying to avoid?”
“Yes.”
“I can understand that. I try to avoid it myself.” He gestured at the stairs. “I was just about to leave; would you care to walk out with me?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Because you think you can’t survive the night without Lord Minshom’s attentions?”
Anthony’s eyes snapped to David’s. “How the hell did you know that?”
“Because a few years ago I felt the same.” David’s smile disappeared. “But I broke free of him, so it is possible.”
“Perhaps you are simply a stronger man than I am.”
“No, I’m not. I just learned to value myself more.”
Anthony dropped his gaze. “At this moment I crave his ‘attention’ more than I want to breathe.”
“He has that effect on people, but there are many other ways to achieve sexual satisfaction without submitting to that bastard.” He paused. “What if I offered you one alternative to Lord Minshom and the third floor?”
Anthony straightened and ran an unsteady hand through his already disordered hair. “You have an alternative?”
David’s smile was calm. “At my lodgings, if you care to join me.”
Dark excitement threaded through Anthony’s body. He was hard and ready to fuck. If he couldn’t have Marguerite—and why should she want him inside her after all—he needed someone, and if Lord Minshom was out of the question, David would definitely do.
Marguerite stepped into the kitchen, her face flushed, her whole body still trembling from Anthony’s caresses.
“Marguerite, are you all right?”
She jumped and turned to face her mother, who sat in the shadows beside the hearth. Despite the lateness of the hour, her mother still looked beautiful as she rocked back and forth in the old pine chair, her dainty feet swinging with every motion.
“I thought you were staying with Philip tonight.”
Helene made a dismissive gesture. “We made magnificent love and then he had to spoil it by insisting we make plans to spend more time together. Men are so annoying.”