Tonight or Never

  This was more complex than he first thought.

  He examined the dainty profile that he could probably draw in the dark. It had been etched into his psyche when he was sixteen. That very day—the day he met her—he began worrying about her.

  And he was still doing it!

  Briefly, he wondered if, once you took it up, it became a lifetime position: Chloe's Official Worrier. He snorted.

  Tonight she had been more than any man could ever hope for—responsive, giving, warm, and… trusting.

  It was the trusting part that bothered him.

  Why did she trust him so? He had told her time and again she must never trust any man in this area. Of course he didn't mean him—he'd never deceive her; he couldn't.

  Still, she should have more sense. Gingerly, he felt the bump on the back of his head, his eyes narrowing. Then again, when he gave her that advice, he never thought he'd be in a position to—

  Just what did you think?

  That was precisely the dilemma. He had never stopped to think about the future, hers or his.

  Now the future was here; they were wed and there were certain terms he would be expected to abide by. The terms of their agreement. He was to share his sexual knowledge with her so she could lead the same life he did.

  So she could seek out other men to… !

  A masculine, territorial, possessive, heretofore unheard voice within him seethed.

  Why should I allow that?

  Well, he had given her his word.

  So what if he did? An astute man could always find an alternative interpretation to an agreement.

  Could he get away with it? Chloe was extremely sharp. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes. Exactly what kind of a bargain have I made here?

  The kind that spells trouble, he acknowledged prosaically.

  Feminine lips teased his collarbone.

  "Chloe…" he murmured sleepily, eyes still closed.

  "How did you know it was me?" she teased him.

  He smiled, opening his eyes. "Lucky guess."

  "You scapegrace." She nipped him sharply on the nose.

  He laughed heartily, white teeth flashing. "No, I'd know those lips anywhere."

  Chloe fell for the bait. "Really? How?" She rubbed his nose with her own.

  "Nibble nibble, pause to examine the situation, nibble nibble…"

  "You are shameless!" She pinched a vulnerable spot between his arm and chest.

  Two dimples curved his cheeks. "Besides, who else would sleep all night with her arms around my neck and her pinkie cuddling my earlobe?" He snickered at the Chloe oddity.

  She blushed. "It is so soft, John; it feels just like velvet."

  The lids of his eyes instantly lowered. "It does, does it? Would you like to feel something else just as soft?"

  John's voice had changed from amused to seductive in the blink of an eye. Very good.

  Matching his tone, she peeked up at him through her lashes. "What would that be?"

  "This." His hand covered hers. Entwining their fingers together, he lifted their hands from his chest and placed them on her breast.

  Under the command of his, their two hands stroked the soft underside.

  "Like satin, sweet," he said on a breath.

  Chloe stared at him, watching his pupils dilate to the tactile sensation he created for both of them. She had always known he was a sensuous man.

  "And this…" He skimmed their entwined hands down her torso to barely sweep at the curls at her juncture.

  His knuckles skimmed her cleft. Chloe sucked in her breath.

  "And this." He brought her closer to him so their hands brushed the tip of his erection.

  While still gripping her, John maneuvered his thumb and forefinger around her forefinger, straightening it out to point. Holding her this way, he moved his hand in a circular motion so that the pad of her finger caressed the tip of him.

  He was downy velvet there too. So soft, yet so hard.

  "You feel so exquisite," she whispered, awed by his magnificence.

  "Men are not exquisite, Chloe-keet." He pressed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

  "You are." She turned her head, capturing his mouth.

  He ardently returned her kiss.

  Taking her hand, he trailed it down the length of his staff, allowing her finger to make the long slide on the underside of him. An appreciative purr reverberated in his throat.

  Since he liked it so much, Chloe decided to take over the motion, running her finger up and down the thick shaft and around the blunt tip.

  "Yes, oh yes," he affirmed in a hint of voice. He suckled on her lower lip, drawing it delicately into his mouth.

  Releasing her hand, he trailed his own forefinger down the curve of her belly, running the pad around and around the rim of her navel, and then down again into her nether curls.

  Mirroring her action, he inserted his finger in her dewy softness, circling and stroking up and down the damp cleft. Concurrently, his agile tongue delved deeply into her mouth, stroking and sliding in a matching rhythm.

  The sensations he created were overpowering. Chloe stopped her own motions for a second, overcome by what he was doing to her. Perhaps this needed an opinion?

  "Don't stop, my beautiful wife. Not now."

  My beautiful wife. With that encouragement, Chloe grasped his member in her hand and massaged its entire length. Impossibly, he seemed to grow even larger and firmer within her grip.

  Chloe marveled at what she had done; there was a feeling of genuine accomplishment. Just look at the size of it! His manhood jerked in her palm, reminding her that it wanted more.

  She gave more.

  Rolling the head around the center of her palm, she sheathed him with her other hand, massaging gently. An exclamation of sheer bliss followed the tremor that shook him.

  A matching tingle skipped through her from the place where he was playing so skillfully.

  His lips captured the peak of her breast to suckle.

  Chloe shuddered at the augmented sensation. John was very, very good at this.

  "I want to come inside you, Lady Sexton."

  His enticing suggestion, uttered in a drawling half whisper, added to her arousal.

  Chloe nodded, nuzzling her cheek across the edge of his sensual mouth.

  He clasped her knee and lifted it over his hip as they lay on their sides. The position brought them in perfect alignment.

  "Bring me to you," he coaxed, his hot breath fanning her lips.

  She looked at him and knew what he wanted. Grasping him firmly, she brought the head of his manhood to her woman's portal.

  John watched her. "Now guide me home, love."'

  Chloe moved forward and down on him, bringing him slowly inside. Inch by inch he sank into her, filling her to the hilt. They both moaned.

  When she could go no farther, he placed his hands on her hips and drove into her that little bit more.

  Chloe could not hold back her opinion on this. "Ohhh."

  "Are you all right?" He stilled, speaking raggedly in her ear. "No discomfort?"

  "N-no, just incredible pleasure."

  "Ah…"

  Her small hands cupped his face. "Let's stay like this forever."

  He drew in a sharp breath. Have mercy. Where did she ever learn to ignite a man like that? "Chloe… when you say something like that, I—"

  He didn't finish, just melded his mouth to hers. Chloe moaned at the rich, fiery dampness of him.

  "When you're ready… move. Do whatever feels comfortable." His tongue teased at the small dimples at the corners of her mouth.

  Cautiously, she began moving against him. They both felt every nuance of the motion; they both relished the sensitive experience.

  Soon her novice motions picked up speed and ingenuity. She changed the pace. She writhed; she slid; she moved in an altogether sinuous way.

  John maintained his stationary position, his mouth playing with her throat, her ear, her collarbone—once ev
en biting her shoulder when she ground against him hard.

  The Lord of Sex let her find her own way, patiently allowing her to take him.

  After a time, his palms came down to cup her derriere. His hands began to guide her on him in a different way. Bringing her up tight and close, he rotated her upon his shaft with an expertise seldom seen.

  She moved but could not control the style of motion. He stayed immobile, but controlled the strength and depth of her thrusts.

  It was an incredibly erotic experience for them both.

  In this way—with his strong, knowledgeable hands guiding her energetic movements—he brought them both to a shattering, masterful culmination.

  It was not an end, however.

  Chloe soon learned that John was only beginning. She barely had time to catch her breath before he began anew, showing her yet another variation of the same technique.

  Throughout the day and long into the night he made good on his promise. In fact, his performance was outstanding. She wasted no time in telling him so.

  The viscount's rich, deep laughter resonated in the bedchamber. "I'm glad you approve, madam."

  He winked at her rakishly.

  And continued to thrust.

  Chapter Seven

  Zambeau Ensconces

  A pounding on the bedroom door awoke them.

  "Don't answer it." John burrowed back into the curve of her shoulder.

  "I must; it sounds urgent, John." Chloe wiggled away from his warm embrace, reaching for her dressing gown.

  "Bother it!" A few additional expletives from the center of the bed followed her to the door.

  She couldn't really blame him: he was just preparing to… Well, he said he was going to show her how he best liked to cuddle.

  Chloe grinned as she made her way to the door. She adored this other side of John. This sexual side of him.

  The pounding grew more intense, almost frantic. It was a good thing John had locked the door or else Chloe was sure whoever was on the other side would have burst in.

  She chuckled, because when she had questioned John as to why he was locking it, he had crossed his arms over his chest and given her a dry look. "I know this household only too well."

  He did at that.

  "I'm coming! I'm coming!" Chloe hollered out as she tied the sash of her robe.

  She unbolted the door and opened it a few inches to peer out.

  Grandmere was there, looking positively frantic. Chloe had never seen her grandmother appear so upset. "Grandmere! What is it? Is something wrong? Tell me!"

  "Oh, it is terrible, my dear, terrible!" The countess stood in the hall, wringing her hands. "Something awful has happened!"

  Oh no! Chloe put her hand to her chest. "What is it; you must tell me."

  "Nonl I will speak to John—he is the master of the house now; it is for him to deal with. Only him."

  "But John is—" Naked.

  Chloe heard her husband pad smoothly across the floor. A strong arm circled her waist and she was drawn back into his warmth behind her.

  Mon Deiu, he hasn't even bothered to put any clothes on!

  His tousled blond head peered around the door frame. "What is it, Countess?" he asked calmly.

  Grandmere began wringing her hands again. "Something terrible has happened, John."

  Her husband became instantly serious. "What is it?" He paled suddenly. "It's not my uncle, is it?"

  "Good heavens, no; it is worse than that!"

  "Oh, not Schnapps!" Chloe wailed loudly.

  John glanced down at the top of her head incredulously. She actually had an affection for the ugly little dog.

  "No, no, my angel… worse, much worse."

  John frowned in puzzlement. Not his uncle, the countess was obviously fine, Schnapps lived and growled, and one was never quite sure whether Deiter was alive or dead. So what could be worse? He asked as much.

  Grandmere drew herself up with the importance of the horrendous news she was about to impart. "Zu-Zu has arrived."

  Chloe and John both stared at her blankly.

  "Do you not understand what I am saying?" Grandmere threw her hands up. "The Countess Zambeau is here! On your very doorstep!"

  John just gazed at Grandmere. "So?" he said at last.

  "Oh ho! You will see what 'so'! You must come at once. I have given her a suite in the south wing; already she has gone through three maids! And she has only been here half an hour."

  "Are you saying this—this woman is staying here?" John asked, appalled.

  "Oui. Come quickly!"

  "I will not." He pulled Chloe closer to him. "I am busy with my wife."

  The countess blew out a breath of exasperation. "You must deal with her! If you do not, she will have your house in an uproar."

  John was not particularly perturbed.

  The countess shook her finger at him. "My dear, young viscount, she will take it upon herself to run the household for you, then demand you thank her for the privilege." The countess waved her hand impatiently in the air. "I have seen her do it before. Say au revoir to the Chacun à Son Goût as you know it and bonjour to the Zambeau Chateau!"

  John's nostrils flared. "Who is this woman?"

  Chloe turned in his arms to look up at him. "You remember her, John; she's the one Grandmere was crying over when she presumably went to the guillotine."

  "Ah, yes—the 'glorious bitch.' What is she doing here?"

  Chloe turned back to her grandmother. "Yes—how did she escape the guillotine, Grandmere?"

  "We don't know yet; I suppose she will inform us in minute detail of her harrowing adventure. In the meantime, John, you must come down and deal with her."

  Chloe nodded in agreement. "Yes, John, you must go."

  "What am I to do with her?" he thundered.

  Grandmere started down the hallway. " 'Tis simple, John, just smile at her. Zu-Zu adores men who smile."

  "What do you mean by that?" he asked the countess suspiciously. When the countess didn't answer, he turned to his wife. "What does she mean by that?" he asked Chloe.

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  "Remember—just smile. The Countess Zambeau will take it from there," Grandmere predicted from down the hallway.

  "Hmm," was all he said.

  When she rounded the corner, the Countess de Fonbeaulard smiled broadly.

  The two of them had looked so adorable standing together in the doorway like that. John seemed very protective of his new bride. And much more committed than one would have believed. As Sir Percy said, Res ipsa loquitur. The thing speaks for itself. The task was to get John to listen.

  Not to worry, Grandmere had a plan.

  First she had to deal with that bitch, Zu-Zu.

  What would she have done without the dear Zambeau to make life interesting? Thank God she had escaped the execution!

  Spice was a very important ingredient in one's life.

  Especially if one could use it to flavor a new marriage.

  "It was right before my eyes! Looming enormous, it was raised to its full potential!"

  Everyone in the room gasped.

  Everyone, that was, except John, who groused under his breath something best not vocalized out loud.

  Chloe, sitting next to him on the settee, elbowed him smartly in the side. Dutifully, he gave a feigned gasp.

  The Countess Zambeau preened, taking the gasps as her due.

  Grandmere was the first to find her voice. "The man who saved you?" she verified, somewhat shocked at the description.

  "Non!" Zu-Zu frowned. "I am speaking of the guillotine."

  "Ohhhh…" everyone said, slightly disappointed at the turn of the tale.

  "So how were you rescued, Countess?" Chloe inquired.

  "Yes, do tell us, Zu-Zu!" Percy leaned forward in his chair, avidly awaiting the story. Considering it was fodder for his endless prattle, John wasn't overly surprised.

  "Bien, there I was in the Place de Greve; I was being pulled from the car
t by a soldier when I looked up to see a vision of unyielding determination and unrelenting precision."

  "The guillotine," Grandmere affirmed.

  "Non! The man who saved me." Zu-Zu leveled a catlike look at her lifelong friend and competitor. "He was quite something, Simone; it is too bad you could not have seen him."

  Grandmere rolled her eyes. "Oui, next time I will place myself before the guillotine so I may have a glance at this specimen!"

  John snorted.

  "Was it the Black Rose?" Percy practically drooled at the thought.

  "Of course it was the Black Rose! Who else would save me, the Countess Zambeau!"

  A lesser savior would never have done. The woman was impossible. No wonder the peasants are revolting. Utterly bored, John closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the settee.

  "What did he look like?" Chloe wanted to know.

  John opened one eye. "Why do you want to know?" There was just a hint of suspicion in his voice.

  Chloe was overjoyed. She replied innocently, "Everyone wants to know, John; he's the talk of the ton."

  "Oh, he's marvelous!" Zu-Zu sighed dramatically.

  "Really?" Chloe waited for more while she observed John out of the corner of her eye. The viscount was starting to sulk, which was a very encouraging sign.

  "I hear he always appears in disguise, Countess; how could you tell what he really looked like?" Percy had a perplexed expression on his face, as if the intricacies of disguising one's appearance were too taxing for him.

  "Well, he appeared that way for the others, but with me he was simply himself! We became very intimate during the long journey here."

  "All the way across the channel," John said sardonically while smiling at the countess. Accompanied by his lazy, masculine smile, the sarcasm went right over her head.

  "So what does he actually look like?" Chloe repeated her question.

  "He's very handsome! Tall, with the hair of brown and dark eyes. Most compelling and quite accomplished in the boudoir."

  "Really?" Chloe remarked speculatively.

  Not liking the contemplative look on her face one bit, John enclosed her hand firmly with his own. "You already have someone in that department, Chloe-keet. The position has been filled."