Page 19 of Ruby in the Rough (Heiress #4)

Chapter

Nineteen

L ater that afternoon, the house party had gathered on the terrace back at the main house. Cordelia sat with Isabella and Rosalind, her sisters deep in conversation about the amusements planned for the coming days.

She sipped her champagne, half-listening, her gaze drawn across the lawn to where Christian moved easily among his guests. His laughter carried to her, warm and rich, his wide smile tugging at the corners of her own mouth.

So handsome. So commanding. And she alone knew what he looked like undone. Only hours ago, she’d had him in her mouth, had made him crumble into a man desperate for her touch, for release. The memory sent a flush creeping up her neck, a dangerous thrill curling in her belly.

Surely he had begun to reconsider his stance on marriage.

Weeks ago, he had insisted he wanted no wife, yet the growing attraction between them was impossible to deny.

After what had happened in the cloakroom, she could not imagine he doubted her ability to satisfy him.

Now she needed His Grace to not only desire her sensually, but also as a woman equal to the task of duchess.

“Why do you look like the cat who caught an innocent little mouse?” Rosalind teased. “You’ve been far too quiet, Cordelia. Is something on your mind?”

“No, not at all. I’m merely taking in the view.”

“What view?” Isabella asked dryly. “The garden? Or more of the ton at play? How thrilling.”

Rosalind chuckled. “Come now, Isabella. It’s not all so bad.”

“I do not even know why I’m here,” Isabella muttered.

“Because you’re supposed to be in London for the Season,” Rosalind reminded her. “You cannot hide away in Hampshire forever, which need I need to remind you, I have allowed of late.” The duchess paused. “And truly, two weeks at a house party is hardly dreadful.”

Isabella didn’t answer, simply turned the conversation onto what their younger sister Clementine had been learning from her governess.

Cordelia took advantage of her sisters’ distraction and sipped her beverage, allowed her attention to drift back to Christian.

He laughed at something Jane said, but even as he did, his gaze lifted to settle on her.

Heat curled across her skin at the fire she read in his eyes and her pulse quickened.

If they didn’t end this madness soon, someone would notice, or worse, they’d be caught in a compromising position and their choices would be stripped of them.

No marriage should start under those circumstances, and she wanted Christian to ask for her hand because he wanted her at his side, not because he needed to save both their reputations.

Her mind drifted back to the cloakroom. The way he’d tasted on her tongue. How she’d made him groan her name. The recollection was a heady thought, and she ran a fingertip slowly along her bottom lip, wanting already to be alone with him again.

Christian’s eyes narrowed and he clasped the back of his neck as if he were in pain. Even from a distance, she saw him swallow and take a deep breath.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Cordelia rose from her seat. “It’s getting a little warm out here. I think I’ll go inside.”

“Have you a megrim?” Rosalind asked. “Shall I have a tisane sent up to you?”

“No, not at all. I’ll be fine once I’m indoors. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Very well, darling. We’ll see you then,” Rosalind called after her.

Cordelia set down her empty glass down and ambled toward the French terrace doors. Had Christian noticed her leaving? One cursory glance over her shoulder confirmed he was watching.

Inside, she made her way toward his library. The other guests were on the terrace, and if there was one place they could be alone, it would be in his private sanctuary.

Just before she reached the door, the warmth of his hand pressed against her back, guiding her over the threshold. He slipped in after her, shutting the door and turning the key with a quiet, decisive snick.

She turned, and he was already there, his mouth crushing against hers, kissing her with a hunger that matched her own.

His tongue teased, their breaths mingled, her body ached with renewed hunger.

Cordelia rose onto her tiptoes, only to be lifted completely when his hands clasped her bottom and hauled her against him.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his back.

He pressed against her, grinding his rigid cock against her sex.

She gasped, unable to comprehend just how much she needed him. In three long strides they were at his desk. With one hand he pushed several papers and quills to the floor, before he set her down, coming to stand between her legs.

“I want you tell me to stop. We shouldn’t…”

She reached for his falls, pulling the buttons free and taking him in hand. “I don't want you to stop.” Married or not. Courting or not, she needed to have him, to relieve the sweet ache that tormented her from within.

“Cordelia.” Her name sounded like a plea on his lips, one she could not deny.

He licked along the side of her neck, biting her lobe as he tussled to move her gown out of the way.

She stroked him until, scandalously, she pressed his manhood against her sex, teasing it along her wet folds. Her body ached, needy and seemingly as greedy as his. He reached between them and guided himself into her.

“I shouldn't,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re a maid and we’re unmarried.”

She wiggled to take him deeper and gasped at the pleasure he evoked through her.

“I want it to be you, Christian. I want to feel this madness with no one else, please,” she begged, uncaring of the consequences.

All that mattered right at this moment was for him to gratify her, to satisfy the sweet throbbing ache that refused to be sated.

He mumbled something under his breath she could not catch before he clasped her arse and thrust, impaling her until she took all of him.

Cordelia gasped against his chest, muffling her cries of delight. She breathed through the sting of their joining. Christian paused, allowing her time to adjust to this new experience. She breathed through the pain before the pain soon turned to need.

“Cordelia,” he moaned, his hold on her fierce.

She slumped onto the desk, watching him. His breeches were down about his knees, their bodies joined in the most private of places and never had she seen anything more riveting and exciting in her life.

“Take me, Christian,” she moaned, needing him more than breath itself.

His eyes darkened and she felt the heat of his gaze on her skin. Finally he did as she asked, his hands holding her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. He took her hard, every thrust vibrating the contents of the desk about.

She reached behind her and clasped the edge of the wood. “Yes, Christian,” she said, fighting to muffle her words.

“Does that feel good?” he asked. “Does it feel as good as it does for me?” He moaned, pausing a moment. “You're so wet, Cordelia.”

“If I am, it is because you make me so.”

He rolled his hips, taking her with sweet, sweet strides.

Up until this moment she had never known she could feel such completeness.

That being with a man could encompass so many emotions to well up inside her.

Christian was opening a whole new, wicked and wonderful future and she adored every delicious moment of it.

His strokes quickened, became more frenzied. Every press of his body brought hers closer toward a pinnacle of something that promised to be splendid.

“I'm going to… I’m going to come, Cordelia.”

Unable to tear her gaze from him, she watched, fascinated, as he took her, his face contorting into a visage of pleasure before he pulled out. He reached for a handkerchief and pumped into it. Their eyes met and held as he stroked his manhood.

Was he protecting her from becoming heavy with a child?

For several breathless heartbeats she lay exposed before him, her body still greedy to have more of him.

Before she could ask what they were to do next, he pulled up a chair and sat himself down.

He kissed his way along her thigh, and she gasped at the shock of his mouth, his soft but determined mouth moving ever so close to her most private of places.

Scandalously she did not attempt to stop him.

She was too wanton, mad with desire, mad with the longing of knowing, of learning, of satisfying them both.

His mouth settled on her sex, warm and greedy.

It was at that very moment she understood bliss, a paradise so perfect that she would forever wish to aspire to it.

With masterful strokes, he licked her cunny, teased and suckled her sex. She closed her eyes. It was too much, and yet not enough and she wanted more.

So much more…

He pressed two fingers into her as his mouth moved with such sweetness she was sure she had died and gone to heaven. “Christian,” she moaned, her fingers spiking into his hair, her fingers clutching at his locks and holding him firm.

“Come for me,” he whispered against her sex, his hot breath teasing her further. She undulated while he teased her relentlessly with his mouth.

“Yes, oh, Christian yes.” He did not stop but continued his shattering assault until she was writhing beneath him. The first tremors of her release coiled heady and strong within her. With one final swipe of his tongue, he tipped her into an abyss of pleasure.

“Christian.” His name was a plea, a chant she could not hold back. He kissed her cunny until the very last tremors of her release echoed throughout her body. She would not survive this ecstasy. Surely this would be the end of her…

She lay sprawled across the desk, her breathing rapid, her limbs deliciously weak, her body thrumming from his touch.

Christian leaned back, a faint curve of satisfaction lifting the side of his mouth. Slowly, deliberately, he smoothed her gown back into place. “Now,” he murmured, “we are even.”

She sat up, searching his face before threading her fingers through his hair. Emotion overwhelmed her and Cordelia knew that her life and her feelings for this man, although complicated, would never be the same again. She leaned forward and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips, tart and sweet.

“No,” she whispered, her mouth brushing his. “Now…we are only just beginning.”