Page 15 of Not a Chance in Hell (The Chances #6)

T he words—her acceptance, her demand —echoed painfully in her ears, but Lilianna could not find any regret in her for having said them.

She wanted him. She’d wanted him for too long to hold back now, not when he was opening himself to her, revealing the Earl of Taernsby she had never quite believed had been there.

And yes, she was being bold. Yes, the perfect wife would be an innocent on her wedding night, that was what her mother had always told her. That was what Society said. That was what Society expected.

But what was the point in waiting? Within weeks, she would be marrying this man, becoming his wife. A shiver rushed through Lilianna’s spine. What difference would it make?

Arthur’s lips were parted and his eyes were wide, but there appeared to be something wrong with him. The man wasn’t speaking.

Lilianna grinned. “I have flummoxed you.”

“I—not—flummoned.”

“Flummoxed,” she supplied, trying not to laugh. Oh, it was wonderful to put this arrogant and clever man on the back foot.

He’d been direct and sharp and unrestrained the moment she had met him, never failing to speak what he wanted. And now she had done the same, and he had fallen apart.

It was rather endearing.

“I-I… You… not,” Arthur managed. He cleared his throat and Lilianna tried not to follow the bob of his Adam’s apple or the sharp line of his jaw. “I don’t think you quite understand what you’re asking of me.”

“I understand perfectly. I may an innocent, but I am not ignorant,” Lilianna said, heat flooding her cheeks at the merest hint of impropriety. Oh, this was going to be difficult. “I mean, I… I know roughly what… what is involved.”

It seemed that her uncertainty gave Arthur back his own. His roguish smile returned. “You do?”

“Basically,” she said primly, pulling her hands away in the flush of embarrassment that rocked her. “I do have brothers, you know. I listened at doors to their nonsense over billiards. Very illuminating game, billiards.”

Well, she could hardly hold his hands while talking about such things, could she? Except that very soon, if she had her own way, she would be doing those things…

Lilianna’s attention raked over the man seated before her. Only now did she permit herself to linger on those broad shoulders, the hint of muscle flexing through his jacket, the way he always sat with his knees parted…

Giving his manhood room to breathe.

The mere thought made her splutter, just for a moment.

“Lilianna? Are you well?”

“I am quite well,” she said quickly, halting any further concern. “Now, are you going to ravish to me or not?”

Once again, she was the one advancing, and though Arthur did not retreat, he was clearly not entirely comfortable. “I… I mean, Lilianna !”

“What?” Lilianna ensured to blink innocently. “Ladies cannot proposition their betrotheds?”

“It’s just that—”

“Because we are betrothed, aren’t we?” she added. It would never do to progress without being absolutely certain of the agreement here. She’d heard enough gossip about certain young ladies to know that it did happen.

Arthur’s smile was earnest. “We are betrothed. God, I never thought you’d ever say yes .”

“Neither did I,” Lilianna said ruefully. “So there is no reason why you can’t bed me, is there?”

Because she desperately wanted to be bedded. To feel him against her, feel his arms around her, his tongue…

Arthur was spluttering again. “I mean to say, Lilianna! Your-Your maid is here. I can’t think what we would… I mean, if we were caught…”

“Oh, did I say that my maid is here?” Lilianna watched in triumph for understanding to dawn on his face. “I should have said that my maid was here.”

He blinked. He was very still, just staring. “‘Was here.’”

She nodded. “She’s started to feel unwell and so I sent her straight to the convalescent home—well, you can’t be too careful. I have sent a note to my parents and they’ll be returning a maid to me. She’ll arrive… oh. Tomorrow? The day after?”

It had not been a plan, exactly. Lilianna loved a good plan, naturally, but this one had fallen into her lap without any great effort on her part. Clarke was genuinely unwell, and with scarlet fever so recently in the household, there had been no possibility of her staying. It wasn’t as though she, Lilianna, could care for her.

And so here they were. Alone.

Arthur appeared to be having an apoplectic fit. “I… What a pretty painting!” He jabbed a finger at the wall. “Did—erm, did you paint it?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” said Lilianna, impressed that of all the paintings in the entire house, he had managed to select the one she had indeed painted herself. “It’s not very good.”

“It’s beautiful.”

His eyes were on her now, not the painting, and Lilianna smiled. “Forget-me-nots. My favorite flower—but you’re changing the subject. Are you going to ravish me or not?”

His voice was croaking now, but Arthur gave her a wry look. “Never change, Lilianna.”

“I don’t intend to,” she said primly, delighted. Oh, after all those irritating men with bad breath and even worse conversation, she would be Arthur’s wife. The Countess of Taernsby. Then her eyes narrowed. “You are going to marry me, aren’t you?”

“I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask you ,” he said with a laugh.

“I suppose you are, but then you have asked so many times, I thought it was only fair that we start to even up the numbers,” Lilianna said with a grin.

Arthur was shaking his head. “You are ridiculous.”

Perhaps she was. This whole situation felt like a dream, like she could wake up at any moment and Frank and Mama and Papa and all of them had only just left.

But this was real. She was seated at the breakfast table in the late afternoon, shadows creeping across the room and the solitary candle lit hardly enough light, with a rake who wanted to marry her.

Her rake.

“You didn’t fall in love with me because of my shy and retiring nature, though, did you?” she whispered.

It was perhaps too far. He had never said—he’d spoken a great deal on his attraction to her, but love?

Arthur stood up and for a moment, Lilianna thought he was about to leave. Then he grabbed her hand, pulled her upright, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Time stopped. So did her pulse. Lilianna could do nothing but accept the onslaught of hedonism that he poured onto her lips.

When Arthur pulled away, there was something shifting in his eyes, and Lilianna luxuriated in it. “I didn’t fall in love with you until I knew I had to have you.”

“Then have me,” Lilianna whispered. “Have me now.”

It was not the most eloquent thing she had ever said in the world, but it did not need to be. Here they were in their own little world, a world without others, without interruptions, without Society and its rules—just themselves.

Just Arthur, dotting kisses across her neck as his fingers clutched at her buttocks, drawing her hips against his.

Lilianna gasped, hardly able to draw enough breath. The whole thing was so intoxicating. She had never known anything like this, never experienced such longing that kept her awake at night—and now she was going to know what it was to be ravished, completely.

By the Earl of Taernsby.

It was too much, and not enough, and her senses were being crowded in a way that made Lilianna’s head spin. Surely, this was far too much for any woman to bear, and yet parts of her were awakening and crying out that it wasn’t enough.

More. She needed more.

“More,” Lilianna whimpered against his lips.

Arthur grinned. “Good.”

Her gasp was almost lost in his kiss as his tongue swirled in her mouth, tasting her, rocking her on her feet, but Arthur’s strong arms were around her.

No—only one arm was around her. Where was the other?

Only when her hair started to flow down her shoulders did Lilianna realize what he was doing. Pins started to fall to the floor and her pulse raced.

“You’re so beautiful,” Arthur murmured.

“I… I’ve never been like this before a man,” Lilianna said bashfully, lifting a hand to tuck her hair behind her ears.

His face twitched. “There’ll be a lot of firsts like this tonight.”

Tonight…

She had awoken that morning trying to think of the right words that she could write to Arthur, to tempt him to come to her house now that the unimaginable had happened and her family had departed. Now she was standing by the breakfast table, hair mussed, being kissed thoroughly by that same man.

Her future husband.

Lilianna’s fingers moved hurriedly as Arthur sucked on her lower lip in his kiss, her hands unable to move coherently when he did such a decadent thing.

“What are you doing?” he murmured.

“My gown,” Lilianna said feverishly. “I need to take it off.”

He pulled back at that. “‘Take it off’?”

“I… I want to be close to you.” It was hard, admitting to such a thing, but Lilianna knew he would understand. “And your waistcoat, your shirt—I need them off.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

Lilianna smiled as the ties to the side of her bodice finally gave up, the ribbon cascading to the floor. “I most certainly do.”

She watched, delighting in the way Arthur’s eyes widened as she lifted the bodice of her gown over her head. Her chemise under her corset was a pleasant, light-cream color, but it did not remain on for long. Her fingers pulled at the mother of pearl buttons of her overskirt and then that was gone and—

“Slow down, Lilianna.”

Her name was a benediction on his lips, but she did not understand why he halted her, why he had captured her hands with his, a knowing look on his face.

“But—But we’re—”

“I know. We will,” Arthur said softly, reaching up and brushing her hair out of her eyes with hands that had no business being that soft. “But there’s no need to rush, Lilianna. I want—I want this to be good for you.”

Good for her. Yes, she had heard some mutterings about the pain of lying together as one. And the pleasure. Pain first, pleasure after. The sooner she got through the pain…

“Why don’t you wait a moment?”

Lilianna started. “Wait?”

Arthur did not reply. At least, he did not reply with words. Instead, he took a step back, Lilianna almost whimpering at the distance, and, without dropping his gaze, started to remove his coat.

Oh. Lilianna had never experienced anything like it. The sudden intimacy, the silence save for the brush of fabric against fabric, the way that each second brought her closer to seeing more of him…

It was intoxicating. Her mind giddy, her pulse racing, her core throbbing in a way that was most unladylike, Lilianna watched with hungry eyes as Arthur slowly removed his shirt, then his waistcoat, then—

“Oh, my.”

He was far superior to anything she could have imagined. The broad planes of his chest undulated with muscles she could not have conceived. Wiry hair dusted down from his neck, his throat finally uncovered by the cravat, which followed his clothing onto the floor, then wound its way down to his hips, a slight V curving over the top of his trousers.

Lilianna swallowed. Trousers that most definitely had a tenting effect that had not been there before.

“Do you like what you see?” Arthur asked in a teasing voice.

It was all she could do to nod. She didn’t want to see. She wanted to feel .

As though he understand the need within her, Arthur stepped forward, his arms remaining passive by his sides. “Then touch.”

Lilianna managed to keep the moan of longing deep within her as her fingertips brushed over his collarbone. Warm, and soft, and yet with the unexpected coarseness of his hair. Her fingers explored, pushing against the resisting flesh.

Oh, he was so handsome.

“I… You are…” Heat scalded her cheeks. “You probably think I’m a fool.”

Here she stood, acting as though she had been the first in the world to see such a splendid sight, when there had been women galore who had experienced all this before.

That knowledge, the crushing realization that this was all new and special for her yet commonplace for him, weighed on Lilianna’s shoulders like an anvil.

She stepped back, eyes darting about the room, wondering how swiftly she could get dressed again. Oh, she looked ridiculous, standing here in naught but her stockings and underskirt and corset! What had she been think—

“Whoa, there.”

And she was in his arms and the intensity of the feeling of his scalding skin against hers was almost too much, and Lilianna fought him.

“Lilianna, what the hell’s gotten into you?”

“It’s all new for me and you—you’ve done it all before,” she cried out, not bothering to censure herself. “I can’t… It’s all too much and you… you…”

She raised her eyes to his, almost fearfully. He would think her the most preposterous ninny.

Arthur was looking at her with devotion, his lips soft, his eyes focused. His fondness was so startling, Lilianna gasped and her words faded.

“This is not my first time, not in the same way,” he said quietly. “But it’s our first time. That’s the most special thing—you are the most special thing… Lilianna. You’re… You’re Lilianna Chance. And you’re mine.”

The calm and possessive way he’d said it, it made her unsteady. Lilianna swallowed all the objections that had risen in her mind. “You… You don’t care?”

“I want you to feel loved and exceptional. That is all that I care about,” Arthur said simply. “If you want to stop, we’ll stop—God knows I would never force you—but stop because you don’t want to do it, Lilianna. Not because it scares you.”

Lilianna attempted to take deep, calming breaths. Then something of what he had said registered in her mind, and she tapped him on the chest. “I am not scared!”

“The Lilianna I know would never be scared,” he teased, his lips quirking.

Oh, he was the most aggravating, most intolerable—

She kissed him full on the mouth and he responded in kind, opening for her, welcoming him in. Shyly, with increased boldness with each passing heartbeat, Lilianna tasted him, teased her tongue into his mouth and knew what it was to possess a person.

How did anyone stop once they had started?

As the pair’s kisses continued, Arthur’s fingers were not idle. Lilianna gasped as he pulled at the ties of her corset, loosening it more moment after moment, until he pulled away and dragged the thing from her body.

Corsetry and lacing fell to the floor and she was without any defenses.

But she was Lilianna Chance. She met his eyes, proud and resolute, refusing to be cowed into shame merely because she was naked.

Well. Almost naked.

“You missed a bit,” she whispered.

Arthur’s eyes widened. “‘Missed a bit’? What do you—oh, Christ, Lilianna.”

She had removed her underskirt. Beneath it was naught but her stockings and… herself.

His focus raked over the curls in the wedge between her thighs, the way her stockings rose up her legs topped with blue ribbon, and she saw the unrestrained need pulse at his jaw.

Perhaps there was something to be said for being brave.

Reaching down, Lilianna’s fingertips grazed the tops of her stockings—

“Leave them on,” Arthur rasped, his fingers fumbling at the buttons of his trousers.

“ Arthur !”

She’d had no choice but to exclaim. Leaving his trousers on, which to her mind was most counterintuitive— would he not need them off?— Arthur had stepped to the breakfast table and in one swift movement, swept everything upon it to the floor.

“Arthur, that’s—”

“I’ll clean it up later and pay for any damage,” he said, turning to her with hungry eyes. “Now come here.”

She was not in the habit of obeying men’s orders, or any orders, for that matter. But he could have demanded that she march to China in this mood and she would obey him.

Lilianna squealed as Arthur’s strong hands clasped her waist and lifted her, placing her on the edge of the table.

What on earth was she here for?

Arthur knelt before her. Now this is getting silly , thought Lilianna through a lust-hazed mind. He could never reach my mouth from there, so how is he going to kiss—

And then he kissed her. But not on the mouth.

“Arthur!”

“If you want me to stop,” came his muffled voice, “all you have to do is ask.”

Lilianna clutched the edges of the table and thanked the heavens there was no one in the house to hear her moan. Dear God, she had never expected, never thought… that a man would…

Arthur’s tongue curled into her secret place and she quivered.

“Arthur…”

Evidently, he understood her silent request that he continue, for he slowly began to lap at her warm folds, shoots of elation sparking across her body, her shoulder shaking as the dull ache between her legs became more sharp.

Lilianna’s eyes closed. Oh, this is—this is—

His rhythm changed. His tongue ventured deeper, curling against her, exploring her, tasting her, and Lilianna’s breathing became labored, her knuckles digging into the table.

It was too much, and yet not enough, and he seemed to know that, curling his tongue delightfully around a bud within her that throbbed with aching pleasure and—

“Arthur!” Lilianna cried out.

She was exploding. She was falling apart, cascades of need flowing in ripples. Her whole body was shaking and she would fall, but Arthur’s hands held her hips down as he mercilessly lapped at her sweet nectar.

When he finally released her, Lilianna stared with burning cheeks and a shaken frame. “That… That was…”

“I know,” Arthur said swiftly, rising to his feet and throwing off his boots and trousers. “I could taste it.”

If anyone else had said those words, Lilianna would have expired on the spot, but as it was, it was just what she needed. She wanted him to know, to taste, to feel what he had done to her.

What it appeared he was going to do to her again.

“I know it’s not exactly couth to take your innocence on a table,” Arthur said with a hungry expression, pushing her to the center of the breakfast table and clambering onto it himself, nestling between her legs. “But I have a feeling that our marriage is not exactly going to be like everyone else’s.”

Lilianna grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer, tasting herself on his lips. “Our courtship was hardly standard—why change now?”

Arthur grinned, twisting his hips slightly to push his warm and rod-thick manhood against her. “God, I love you.”

And that was when he entered her: when she could still hear his words of affection roaring in her ears and all she wanted to do was live in this moment. This moment: with Arthur’s manhood slowly sheathing itself into her and her wetness welcoming him in, pulling him closer, tighter.

Lilianna gasped. “You—You’re—”

“I’m not hurting you?” Arthur asked urgently, his voice tight.

The tablecloth was gathered awkwardly under her, but above her was the most precious man she had ever known.

And he was worried. Worried he was hurting her.

And now she came to think of it, he wasn’t. Hurting her, that was. In fact, she felt—

“It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful,” she murmured. She lifted up her lips for a kiss.

Arthur pulled himself almost completely out of her then plunged himself back into her just as he kissed her and Lilianna shuddered, the promise of bliss that she now recognized sparking within her.

“Oh, yes…”

He knew the rhythm she liked, had practiced with his mouth, and Lilianna could do nothing but hold on to his shoulders as Arthur feasted on her body. Harder, and faster, and deeper, he slid into her with kisses intermingling their shared cries. The minutes slid by in a haze of pleasure and Lilianna knew she could never be the same again after this. After him .

His mouth was on her nipple and before Lilianna could stop herself, could relax into this moment and revel in it for all its glory, she was crying out his name and digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“Arthur, oh, Arthur—yes!”

The pleasure was exquisite. It was different this time: not better, just altered, and as her body clenched around him, tugging at his manhood, tightening around it, Arthur swore and poured himself into her.

When the heavens slowed their race across her eyelids and the room started to settle, Lilianna managed to open her eyes. It was to discover that the breakfast room ceiling was still there, much to her astonishment. There was also a man lying beside her—lying on the breakfast table beside her.

Oh goodness. That was… That was…

“I’ll never be able to sit down at this breakfast table again,” she said with a laugh, “without thinking of you.”

There was a chuckle beside her. “I hope you’re never able to sit down anywhere without thinking of me.”

There was a throbbing need between her legs and Lilianna squirmed. She had given everything to him, and he had taken it—yet given back far more in return. He was hers.

“Perhaps,” she said quietly. “But I think for that to be certain, you may have to impress me again.”

Arthur snorted as he leaned on his side, peering at her with a sated smile. “Again?”

Lilianna nodded, rubbing her thighs together as the need he had awoken in her started to ache again. “Please, Arthur. I need you.”

It was wanton, and it was wicked, and she did not care.

The desire in his eyes told her that Arthur had few complaints. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance in hell that you’ll let me leave tonight?”

Lilianna grinned, reaching out for his hand and nestling it in her curls as she tried to say, “No.”