Page 32 of Never Second Guess a Lord
In turn, she pressed back. Wanted more. Part of her knew it was far too fast, and they should be married, but another, more wanton part, wanted it anyway.
Wanted it without marriage and free of obligation.
While quite looked down upon by the upper crust, it happened more often than one would think. Widowed women discreetly took lovers. And while she had thought it crude and indecent a week ago, she now saw the appeal. The freedom it would afford to enjoy such and not worry about producing heirs. Rather, by the feel of it, clandestine meetings with men like Jacob were all about pleasure.
So she let herself go when his warm hand rode up under her skirt. Gasped against his lips when his clever fingers found their way between her quivering thighs. He stroked her sensitive flesh, and their kisses intensified. When he slid first one, then two fingers inside her but kept the pad of his thumb on the tiny nub at the apex of her pleasure, breathing much less kissing became impossible.
Her head fell back, and her eyes slid shut at the sensations welling inside her. Glorious pleasure made that much better by the way his breathing grew choppy in her ear, as though he found equal pleasure. By the way he peppered kisses down the side of her neck and groaned in approval when she thrust her hips in rhythm with his fingers. Moved against him like she might if far more than his fingers were inside her.
Her skin grew hotter still as he kept stroking. Gave her no choice but to race toward some unknown pinnacle. Some unvisited wondrous place that freed her of all her inhibitions. Ripped away the last of her mental cage.
Because it would.
She was sure of it.
Almost as if the mere thought of such freedom in Jacob’s embrace pushed her over the edge, a strange sort of ecstasy tore through her. She cried out and stiffened before she shuddered, and a glorious rush washed over her. Thank goodness he held her up because her legs became useless.
When she finally managed to open her eyes, he watched her as if enraptured. As though he had never seen anything so arousing. While she thought he would come between her thighs and make love to her like he so clearly wanted to, he cupped her cheek and whispered hoarsely, “No,” as if reading her mind. Or, very likely, reading her longing to experience him that way no matter how wondrous he had just made her feel.
“But—”
“No.” He put a finger to her lips and shook his head. “Not here. Not like this.” When she went to argue again because she had never wanted anything so much, he made things clear. “I will have you. We will have each other. But it will not be against a cold stone wall in a chilly chamber where anyone could happen upon us at any moment.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip and clenched his jaw as if it took a great deal of strength to hold back. “You will come to my castle in Argyll as my guest. Then—and only then—will I make love to you in a way befitting you.”
“Befitting me?” She was not sure what to make of that statement other than it did not sit quite right. “I might be wrong, but are you saying it would befit me to come to your castle and become your lover rather than your wife?” Before he could reply, she wiggled out of his embrace, glad that her legs seemed to work again. “Not that I have any interest in remarrying, mind you, but is your proposal not offensive to a woman of my stature? Ofanystature, for that matter?”
“You misunderstand.” Jacob sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I meant no offense.” He reeled her back into his arms and tilted her chin until she had no choice but to look at him. “I do not desire marriage either, but Idowant you near me. Want to see you more often than mere sporadic visits. To talk with you daily. Hear your voice rather than read your words. See you smile. Laugh when you laugh.”
While she had been waiting for the perfect time to tell him her news, it seemed unfortunate, rather than opportune, that this was it. Had to be.
“Yet I am afraid you will not, Your Grace. At least not as frequently as you might like,” she said. “Upon Lady Campbell’s offer, I have decided to sell my late husband’s home in Mayfair and purchase her manor in Dalness.”
He seemed caught unaware by that, and she could not tell whether in a good way or not.
“So you mean to remain in Scotland?” he said, stating the obvious.
“I do.” Excited despite herself, she could not help but smile. “I find I have quite taken to this country and people, so when Lady Campbell offered, I could not help but accept.”
“But of course she did,” he murmured.
“Are you disappointed?” she wondered when he seemed saddened.
“Yes and no.” His gaze softened on her. “Most certainly disappointed that you will not return to my castle with me as I suspect you would love it.” He pressed his lips together for a moment as if biting back emotion before continuing. “But you are right. I should never have asked you to my estate under any other circumstances than with a marriage proposal. That was callous of me. Moreover, you deserve a place of your own. One in which I only ever wish you happiness.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, touched, lost in the way he looked at her. She cleared her throat and found her voice again. “I can only hope you will visit. That we will remain fast friends.”
“I would very much like and expect nothing else, my lady.”
“Prudence.”
“Prudence,” he said softly, cupping her cheek in a way that told her they would be more than friends if he had his way. If she would have him, however discreetly. “You know you will only be a day’s ride from me. That I could wake in the morning and be with you by evening.”
“Then I will hold you to that.” She leaned into his touch. “In return, I would very much like to visit your castle on occasion, as I hear it is quite lovely.”
“Lovely, indeed.” He searched her eyes. “You will, aye? Visit me as often as I will try to visit you?”
“Yes.” Her gaze fell to his lips. How she wanted to kiss him again but knew if she did, she might never stop. That she would fall into his arms once more and perhaps forget all the plans she had for herself. Run to his castle and be anything he wanted. “You have my word.”
Before he could reply or kiss her again, she pulled away. “As much as I detest the eve ending, I grow weary and must still write you a letter.” She worked at a smile. Tried not to let him see how much she would miss him too. “I can find my way back to my room.”
