Page 52 of Captivating the Countess
He was right. She’d been letting her fear of fainting and spirits control her life. If she ever wanted to live, that had to stop. She felt safe with this man holding her as if she were a precious gem... A hank of platinum-colored hair fell over his furrowed brow and his gray eyes smoldered with an intensity that burned straight through her.
So she let him lay her on the bed and undress her. She could pretend Rainford was being a conscientious physician, except she tugged at his clothes while he unfastened hers. Once she had his shirt open, she ran her hand over his rock-hard abdomen and marveled at the ridges there. Did most men feel like this? She didn’t think so.
“You must spend a great deal of time beating up your punching bags,” she marveled as he impatiently cast aside his hampering attire.
The furrows on his brow relaxed and he actually smiled. He loosened his waistband before lying down beside her and kissing her bare breasts. “I lead a very boring life. It’s either beat up bags and lift weights or become a rake, and I don’t have the time for the latter.”
“And you’re too well bred to tup the maids or keep a mistress in the same house with your sisters and your father.” That was as much a reminder as a comment.
“I will marry you as soon as you say the word. I do not consider you a mistress. As you have rightfully demonstrated, you are a countess and do not need me.” Propped on powerful arms that bulged with muscles she hadn’t known existed, he leaned over and tasted her nipples.
Bell knew she should argue about her suitability for marriage, but she couldn’t think coherently while her body was on fire. Fervently, she returned his kisses and caresses, losing herself in sensation. Somehow, her skirt and petticoat fell away. Rainford might not keep mistresses at home, but he was experienced in divesting ladies of their garments.
Had she consented to this? She thought she had, because she was exploring below Rainford’s waist, trying to understand what she’d seen in her vision of his bath. That was apparently all the permission he required.
It didn’t appear to matter what was proper or what she should do. This man knew far more than she did, and he didn’t seem to object to anything she tried. So she explored and responded with the wild abandon of an animal. When his long fingers stroked her through the opening in her drawers, she bit his hard shoulder and drew blood. He growled in her ear, then nibbled the lobe. She nearly shook with need.
He obliged by caressing her where she ached the most—a physician’s healing hand, she tried to think of it. But when she came apart beneath his expertise, he caught her cries with his mouth and drank deeply, leaving her even more breathless.
An instant later, her drawers ended up with her skirts and his trousers, and she finally had her wish. His maleness poised at her entrance, and she could touch him.
Rainford groaned and let her test him. She had hardly begun to explore when he licked her nipple again, impatiently pulled her legs around him, and drove inside.
Bell opened like a flower, taking him in, crying out when he breached a barrier, and then meeting him thrust for thrust. It seemed imperative to move, to keep up with him, to take this strong man inside of her and wring him dry.
Only when her womb opened and Rain pumped his seed with a force that caused both of them to quake did she have a vague grasp of what they had done.
She’d given the nagging witch what she’d wanted.
Rain was accustomedto climbing out of bed, pulling on his clothes, and leaving after sex. It had ever been a physical release, much as beating up a punching bag was. He’d never been the lovelorn type to moon over a female.
But lying here mindless now, with Bell’s warm breath and soft curves easing his urge to solve problems, he lacked the desire to leave Bell’s side. Unlike other women, she didn’t want to talk as he rolled off of her, even though he knew he’d taken her virginity. He’d meant to do so. He’d assigned her this room with every intention of making her his, in whatever way she would have him. But somehow, in staking his claim, he’d left a piece of himself in her care.
They had a thousand things they should say to each other, which were probably better said when dressed and sitting over a breakfast table. He should leave. But when she merely curled against his side and fell asleep, he followed suit.
Much later, when he woke in the early morning hours, Rain still didn’t know whether to apologize. Neither of them had pulled the draperies, and a gray light found its way across the covers. Bell cuddled next to him like a warm blanket, her hand across his abdomen. He knew she was awake, but he wouldn’t harm her by using her for his morning arousal.
“Don’t leave.” He finally spoke his worst fear, not even knowing he feared her loss until he said it. “I will marry you or not, as you wish, but please do not leave.”
She kissed his chest, a gentle flutter against his skin. “So very romantic. I like that about you. Now go, before Button decides to make this the first day of her employment with me.”
“We need to talk,” he said with all the authority in him. “About the ghost, about last night, about the future. And I wish we had the privacy of sharing my chamber without everyone watching our every move.”
“I know, but first, we must visit your father. The only healers here are you and him. One of you must have what the witch wants.” She spoke as if she held something back.
Rain wanted to question, but he was too relieved that she understood his priorities. “I’m not a healer. Voices cannot heal. But I agree, we need to tell him what she said.”
Rain leaned over and worshipped at her breasts just long enough to know he could arouse her again. Then he kissed her swollen lips and rolled from the bed.
“I hope you’ll let me share your bath someday.” He nodded at the bathing room with the cast iron tub and running water. “But I don’t want to press my luck today. After yesterday’s drama, I suspect we’ll have guests lining up to escape.”
She pushed up on her elbows and frankly studied him as he yanked his drawers on over his tumescence. “I think I’ll enjoy the bath idea. I had no notion I was a wanton woman until you came along.”
Damn, but that had him hard all over again. Rain pulled up his trousers and leaned over to kiss her. “A wanton woman would not have come to me untouched. I want to respect whatever forces allowed me to be your first.”
And there it was, the hint that it might have been metaphysical, driven by a nagging hag. He knew what he’d wanted for some time. But Isobel... had been persuaded and not by him.
“Curiosity?” she suggested. “See, I can be as romantical as you.”
