The Undoing of a Libertine

  God, she was an artist’s dream. An artist that painted nudes, he thought wryly, remembering his shock when she’d dropped her robe. The best, happiest damn shock he’d ever known.

  She looked peaceful right now, but he had to wonder how she really felt about the sex. Did she submit out of duty only? Had it been pleasurable at all?

  After that first part, when she came to him for a second try, she hadn’t seemed frightened or upset. Hadn’t cried or resisted him. Hell, she’d even asked him if he’d found the experience to be satisfactory, melting his heart in the process.

  She might be a gentle person, but she was brave. If he understood one thing about his wife, it was that she had the heart of a lioness.

  The sudden insight into what kind of mother Gina would be caused him to smile in the dark. He had made the right choice in her, for sure. This he knew without a doubt.

  Jeremy also knew he hadn’t done his best work tonight, and he felt bad about that. At one point though, he thought he sensed her thrusting against him, seeking to take him deeper. He would do better for her next time. He would show her pleasure if it killed him. Jeremy realized his desire had simply overtaken him and he’d become lost in the need to release before he could stop himself.

  It had been challenging to hold back the urge to fuck with abandon. But he’d done that at least. Jeremy understood that Gina was incapable of tolerating such treatment from him. And even though he knew regret that he wouldn’t be able to have that experience with her, the need to protect her and be a gentle lover was overriding. Gina’s well-being was more important than how he preferred to fuck.

  The thought of that depraved beast ravaging her, shattering her innocence, stealing her peace, was too awful to imagine and keep his wits. One thing was certain though, when the time was right, and the opportunity presented, that foul bastard would be dispatched straight to hell, and Jeremy would enjoy doing it. No question at all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

  Journeys end in lovers meeting…

  —William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night (1601)

  Georgina woke alone in the very early hours just before dawn. She knew he was gone because the delicious warmth of his body was missing against her skin. She couldn’t smell him either. His unique scent was already familiar to her and comforting.

  The feeling of abandonment threatened to overwhelm and the urge to cry rushed up her throat, followed quickly by disgust at herself. She was sick of crying. It seemed like that was all she did around him. It was time to grow up and stop behaving like a child. She blinked in the dark.

  He’d left though, and that didn’t make it any easier, especially after he’d told her he wanted to sleep with her the whole night. She wanted his arms back around her, protecting her, caressing her. In Jeremy’s arms she felt very safe. Where was he? Why did he leave the bed? She tried to hold down the nasty, clinging doubt.

  Remembering back to earlier, she’d called upon calm and serenity to cloak her as she prepared to do her duty to her good husband. She knew Jeremy cared for her by the way he spoke to her and treated her. She also knew he was gentle and kind, telling herself she could get through it, for him.

  But what a revelation! The marriage bed was nothing like what she had imagined. She’d found him to be a careful lover, tender and sweet. When he’d put himself inside her, she had wanted it. In fact, every part of the experience had been welcome.

  She felt empowered to be able to give him pleasure. Even though she knew it was a wife’s obligation, it had been wonderful to grant fulfillment to him. Was he disappointed because she wasn’t a virgin? she wondered. Where could he have gone? Should she go looking for him?

  She sat up in the bed, pulling the blanket along to cover her bare skin. “Jeremy?” she called out softly.

  “Sorry for waking you, sweetheart.” His voice returned to her from across the room. He was kneeling naked beside the fireplace. “The fire was low and needed stirring. I can’t have my bride awakening to a cold room on her first night at Hallborough.”

  “Oh…” Relief flooded her. He hadn’t left her after all. She propped herself onto her side, taking in his splendid form, backlit from the flames. He was the epitome of male beauty, she thought, watching him boldly, feeling no small amount of pride and appreciation for the rippled chest, sculpted arms, and muscular legs. It felt a reward to know he was now her husband.

  Standing slowly, he walked toward her, comfortable in his nudity, his heavy sex swelling before her eyes. Jeremy was a large man all over, his burgeoning shaft no exception.

  “I thought you had left to sleep…elsewhere.” Her voice came out more tremulous than she would have liked.

  “I told you I’d sleep next to you, that I’d want you close so I could reach out and find you,” he responded firmly.

  She nodded back at him.

  “Do you want me to sleep elsewhere, Gina?” She could sense a hint of frustration in his tone.

  “No!” She reached out a hand, urging him to come to her.

  “What do you see when you look at me right now?”

  “I—I see that you are…beautiful. To me you are a beautiful man, and I think you are wanting me again.”

  “You’re right about that, my Gina. I have to be honest. You deserve as much. If I get back into bed, with you looking at me like you are right now, I cannot help—” He put his hand on his sex and stroked it. “I want to be inside you, as deep as I can go. I want that badly, but not if I frighten you.”

  Dear Christ! His frank words sent a thrill straight to her core. She wanted him. Shaking her head, she insisted, “You’re good—good for me, never frightening. Come back to bed.” She lifted the covers, exposing her own nakedness.

  He made a sound, a cry of sorts, before veritably leaping into the bed, his strong arms enfolding, drawing her breasts tightly against the hard, pulsing muscles of his chest. His skin was chilled though, from being up tending the fire, exposed and bare.

  “You’re cold,” she murmured into his shoulder.

  “You’re warm,” he countered. “So warm and soft and beautiful.” He kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth with his tongue. The softness and the firm pressure penetrating her mouth made her anticipate what he would do next. His hands sought hers determinedly, entwining their fingers level with her head.

  She liked when he trapped her hands like that, but couldn’t fathom why she liked it. She just relished the feel of him taking charge of her body, holding her secure. Thinking was unnecessary, unwanted even. This was all about feeling and sensation and the friction of skin touching skin.

  He mounted her, urging her legs apart with his knees, his sex seeking hers, instinctive in finding the way. Very wet and ready to take him in, she bent her own knees this time, loving the weight of him settling on her.

  “Warm me up then,” he breathed as he thrust himself deep and slow.

  “Ahhh…”

  Something seemed to spur him. Maybe it was the cry she made, but he was freer, more abandoned in his movements this time. He stroked with more force.

  “You’re tight.” He began to moan in that surging way, punctuating an exhale with each thrust.

  Georgina loved the sound of him when he moved in and out. It made her feel powerful to know that taking him into her body felt very good to him. She didn’t know much about male physiology, especially when it came to sex, but it didn’t take brilliance to understand that the sounds Jeremy was making meant he liked what they were doing.

  Bearing down on him, she squeezed her inner muscles around his shaft and the onslaught of his strokes.

  “God, yes! Keep squeezing me. Don’t stop! Gina!”

  The plunging sex barreled on, his lips dropping to her breasts where he drew her nipples into his mouth, suckling deeply, first one and then the other. It was ravishment, pure and simple. And being ravished by Jeremy was nothing less than divine. Georgina could only describe the sensation as a hunger. The sl
iding back and forth got her moving against him. She felt the soft slap of testes bumping her with every stroke. He fit perfectly inside her, and she wanted him to keep moving forcefully like he was. Using her inner muscles to squeeze tight around him some more, she heard him rasp out strained words. “I’m going to—”

  As soon as he spoke, he released one of her hands and moved his palm down between them. Long, purposeful fingers glided over and into her soaked core as he continued to pump hard against it. “Come with me, Gina. Come with me, please!”

  Something was happening to her. His movements, his words, and now the stroking to her slick nub forced a building roar to come erupting through her body. Intense convulsions consumed her so that she couldn’t help but cry out. Jeremy seemed to be cresting the final surge of his own release, growing rigid as he shot his seed on a hard thrust and filled her up. All she could do was cling to him and ride the wave of satisfaction that pulsed through every part of her. She melded into his body, letting the senses take her over.

  Eventually awareness returned, and she was brought to the realization that both had stopped moving and were flat on their backs, side by side. Panting together for a long time, unable to do anything other than breathe.

  She reacted first. “I—I—” Unable to stop the tears, she brought her hand up to her mouth and wept, the emotion of the experience all consuming.

  Jeremy spoke stiffly. “I was too rough. I scared you, didn’t I?”

  “Nooo.” She shuddered, looking over at him.

  “You can tell me, Gina. I know I’m a beast when I fuck—umm when I took you just then—I’m sorry!” He looked totally miserable and unsure of himself. “Shall I go anyway? I can sleep in another—”

  “It’s not you or how you did it! Jeremy, please don’t leave me here—” she wailed, knowing she sounded hysterical and pitiful and couldn’t blame him one jot for wanting to get away.

  “What’s wrong then? Why are you upset?” He loomed over her now, frowning.

  Georgina attempted a calm response hoping it might soothe him. “Something happened to me. I never felt anythi—”

  “You came,” he interrupted. “You got an orgasm, a release, a rush of pleasure that overtook you. Am I right? Please say I’m right!” His eyes entreated as his voice sounded hopeful.

  She nodded. “Jeremy, it felt good. Wickedly good.” The need for air into her lungs was still great. Even now she still gulped in air as she came down from the heady peak. “I had no idea such—”

  He kissed her hard, interrupting again. “That’s what you’re supposed to feel, what I want you to feel! Wickedly good, every time!”

  “Truly?”

  “I don’t lie. Truly.” He began showering kisses over her cheeks, kissing away the tear streaks. “You please me so much, Gina, and giving you pleasure in this makes it all the more perfect.” His expression changed then. He looked rueful now.

  “What is it, Jeremy? You are frowning at me again.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t ever get enough of you. I am a randy lout. I’ll want you like this all the time. Gina, I know I will.”

  “I don’t mind,” she whispered against his lips, “and you’re no lout. Can you make that happen again? What you did that felt so nice? Next time?”

  She felt those same lips stretch into a smile at her request, and then a most emphatic “yes” was whispered against her mouth.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Beauty is the lover’s gift.

  —William Congreve, The Way of the World (1700)

  “Good morning, Mrs. Greymont.” Georgina opened her eyes to Jeremy’s grinning and rather smug face above her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Watching you wake,” he said naughtily, “a most mesmerizing sight.”

  “Why?” Indulging in a satisfying stretch, Georgina became aware of her lack of clothing and the newness of being in bed with a man. A very masculine and amorous man.

  “Well, imagine my surprise this morning to find a gorgeous woman, naked in my bed. Wherever did she come from? I wondered. And what should I do with her?”

  His silliness forced a true laugh from her. She giggled, playing along. “Maybe I am lost. You should send me on my way, I think, and by the by, my memories of you are quite clouded. I don’t remember much. Your name, sir?”

  “You don’t remember? Tsk, tsk, we cannot have that,” he purred, arching a brow and looking so very devilishly handsome in his mock displeasure. “And you are going nowhere!” Reaching her waist, he tickled quickly. “Do you remember now?”

  Shrieking laughter was the only response she could give him.

  “I like you here in my bed, especially the naked part!” He raised both brows rakishly. He was a rake. A very sweet and lovely rake. And he was hers now.

  “Your name?” She managed to ask through bubbled laughter while attempting to block his tickling. “You neglected to tell me your name, sir!”

  He loomed over her lips, hovering close. “I am Mr. Greymont, besotted husband of Mrs. Greymont, a most beauteous woman who must be ravished properly, and most urgently I might add.”

  “Ah, really? Is this something Mrs. Greymont should expect to happen often? Ravishment?”

  “I should say, yes. In fact, I know she should resign herself to it.”

  “And why is that?” she quipped.

  “Because Mr. Greymont cannot keep his hands off her! He’s only a lowly man for God’s sake.” His hand started roving purposefully over her hip and the swell of her bottom, just to prove his point. “He cannot help himself.”

  “Mmm, they are lovely hands, and he does such wonderful things with them.”

  “He is skilled with other parts besides hands,” he reminded knowingly, his voice dropping to a husky burr as his blue eyes deepened in color. He wanted to have her again. This she was certain of. The previous night’s instruction had taught her that much at least.

  “Ah, yes.” Heat flooded her lower parts at his naughty words. She knew what was coming. It felt good to be touched and caressed and kissed. Desired.

  He pressed forward, his stiff shaft to her core and his hot mouth to her breasts. The heat of their bodies coming together, ignited an incendiary fire with only one way to extinguish.

  * * * *

  “And to think we worried you’d be unable to bear this,” he murmured, tracing a finger over the curve of a breast.

  “I find myself completely and utterly happy for all my misunderstandings.” Gina rolled on top of him and grinned. “It’s a good thing to be wrong sometimes.”

  “I am so relieved you’re not afraid of me—of this. I never want to hurt or frighten you.”

  “I know that.”

  Jeremy reached around the small of her back with his hands and pressed downward, smoothing over her lush hips and gripping both sides while grinding another erection up from beneath. His near-constant state of hardness around her was another surprise.

  He couldn’t help any of it. Biology simply took over, his cock heating up, lengthening, wanting to penetrate into her clutching depths. If she was close, his body sought what it needed, wanted, and craved.

  “I could touch your body forever. Every part of you is delicious and so very fine…” he whispered up at her.

  She stared down at him, focusing in on his lips. Impulsively, he told her, “Kiss me.”

  Gina’s lips parted before dropping down to join his. He could see the white of her teeth as her mouth opened. The soft brush of her tongue pushing out and into him was another jolt to the raging thing between his hips. She swirled around his tongue and over his teeth and then sucked on his bottom lip, just the way he’d done to her last night. His bride was a fast learner. Jeremy let her explore with him, thrilled with her gentle attempts at discovery.

  “Your lips are softer now that you’ve shaved, but I like your scruffy beard shadow as well. Makes you look rugged and mysterious.”

  “Do you?”

  “Oh yes.”

 
“And here I thought I should please you by being all smooth and civilized for you at our wedding.”

  “Civilized or rugged, you please me.”

  “What a lucky, lucky man am I!” he told her, and believing every word.

  She just looked down at him, a half-smile on her face, her topaz eyes warming him, making his heart swell with possessiveness and something else. Love? How was such sentiment even possible for him? Jeremy had lived for years, detached and unemotional in his dealings with scores of women. And now? Not anymore. With Gina he felt nothing but attached and emotional, wanting only to show her how very important she was to him. How could he have transformed so completely and so quickly? Jeremy didn’t even miss all the empty, rough sex he’d had before. It was nothing to him now. Not after last night. But the intimacy with Gina had sure meant something. He could only describe making love with her as special and precious. Jeremy realized that sex with a person he cared for made it fulfilling, and this was a completely new experience to him.

  “What would you like to do today?” he blurted.

  Her eyes flickered as she looked away shyly.

  “Tell me.”

  She tried to move off, but he snagged his hands onto her bottom to keep her securely on top of him. “Are you shy now?” he whispered. He tickled her side a little. “After last night?” He rolled them over so he now had her trapped below him. Nuzzling her neck and lower to her breasts, he licked slow circles around the centers until she arched into his tongue, an erotic moan tumbling out of her. The sound that came from her throat so dripped of sex he felt himself punch out a hard erection on her thigh. What a surprise!

  “Don’t be shy with me, Gina. You need only ask,” he purred, sure she wanted more from him, more of his cock, more orgasms. “I can make you find heaven again.” He ground his hips downward. “Do you want me to teach you…other ways we can be together?”