Chapter FORTY-EIGHT
When Lucy alighted from her cousin’s coach, she raced over the stone walkway and took the stairs to Derek’s London town house two at a time. She rapped upon the door and fidgeted with her hands, waiting for the blasted butler to open it. “Is His Grace in residence?”
“Yes, my lady, but—”
Lucy didn’t wait to be invited. She hurtled herself inside. The minute she’d heard that Cass and Derek hadn’t seen each other, that Cass had told him she couldn’t marry him, and that they were not, in fact, betrothed, Lucy couldn’t get to him fast enough. It was late at night. She’d had to wait for Garrett and Aunt Mary to retire for the evening before she snuck out of the house. She’d bribed the grooms to put the coach to and promise not to mention it to her cousin. She’d arrived at the duke’s residence far past the proper time for callers, but she couldn’t have cared any less.
“Where is he?” The butler had better not give her any trouble. In her present state of mind, she could fight him with knives and win. Not that she was in possession of a knife, but that was not the point.
Haughty Hughes looked down his nose at her. “His Grace has retired to his bedchamber for the evening. I’ll be happy to take your card and—”
“No!” She made her way determinedly to the staircase. Retired to his bedchamber? That sounded perfect to her. Oh, this was going to be the scandal of the year, but Lucy didn’t give a fig what Hughes thought. She raced up the stairs, frantically opening the doors to several bedchambers to no avail, before coming to the final one at the end of the corridor.
She grabbed the handle with both hands and swung it open to find Derek sitting across the room, in bed, his hair gorgeously ruffled, a dark green silk robe mostly open showing his muscled chest. A book in his hands. He was reading and wore a pair of silver spectacles that made him look even more handsome. He also obviously hadn’t shaved since morning, and the dark stubble on his face made Lucy nearly swoon. She came to a panting halt as soon as she saw him. The door she’d burst through cracked against the opposite wall.
Derek’s eyebrow immediately arched. “Well, now, this is entirely unexpected.”
Lucy slowly retrieved the door, closed it, locked it, and forced herself to walk calmly to his side. “I have a tendency to be a bit unexpected, Your Grace.”
A smile hovered over his firmly molded lips. “I’ll say. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my bedchamber, Miss Upton?”
Lucy pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Miss Upton. She’d missed being called that. She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you were no longer courting Cass?”
He settled himself back against the pillows, removing his spectacles and placing them on the table next to him. “For one thing, I assumed Cassandra would have told you, and for another, you made it quite clear the last time we spoke that you wanted nothing to do with me.”
She ran her hand along the blanket next to his thigh. “I only wanted nothing to do with you if you were courting Cass.”
He groaned. “You told me to court Cass. You demanded I marry her, if I remember correctly.”
She touched his hand, lightly. “I thought that’s what Julian and Cass wanted.”
He tilted his head to the side. His grin was crooked. “Who gives a damn what Julian and Cass want? Besides, what about you and Berkeley?”
“I don’t care about Christian.”
“You looked as if you cared about him at the theater last night.”
She shrugged. “That meant nothing. We cannot even hold a conversation.”
“Yes, well, it didn’t bode well for the chap given that he had to have another man write letters for him.”
Her gaze locked with his. “What do you mean?”
“Meet the author of the letters from your beloved Lord Berkeley.” Even though he was sitting, Derek did a semblance of a bow at the waist.
Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “You wrote those letters?”
“Yes, and you kissed Berkeley.”
Lucy snapped her mouth shut. “I might have kissed him, but I was thinking about you the entire time.” She didn’t stop to acknowledge the mollified look on his face at that news. “How could you? Pretending to be someone else?”
He blinked at her innocently. “I seem to remember someone once hiding behind a hedgerow and speaking for someone else from atop a balcony. I’d say we’re quite even, my love.”
The words “my love” made her stop. Stop and stare at him. Then she began to laugh. Lucy laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. It was all just too ridiculous. “Oh, Derek. If I didn’t know any better, I’d feel as if we’d all been trapped inside the script of a romp play.”
He laughed, too, and when their laughter died away, they were silent, looking at each other cautiously, shyly.
Lucy pushed a curl away from her forehead, searching for something new to say to make it less awkward. “Did you know Julian’s recovered? He’ll be coming home soon.”
His fingertips glanced over hers, causing a wave of heat to undulate through her body. “Yes, my brothers just returned from the Continent and told me so. I’ve never been so damned glad to hear such news. For more reasons than one.”
“What other reason?” she asked.
Derek reached out and stroked the side of her bare arm. She shivered. “As soon as Julian comes home, I can explain to him how thoroughly Lady Cassandra has rejected me. Then I can get to the business of marrying the woman I bloody well want to.”
Despite his curse word, Lucy couldn’t help her tiny smile. She widened her eyes. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” He crooked a finger indicating that she should come closer.
Lucy leaned forward.
Another quirk of his finger. “Closer,” he said.
She moved a bit more.
“Closer,” he coaxed.
“How close?” Her breath fanned across his face.
“Close enough to kiss me,” he whispered hotly.
Her lips hovered just over his. “Like this,” she murmured just before she brushed her lips against his.
Their lips met again. Once. Twice. Then he tugged her to him, her breasts pressing against his bare chest. His hot mouth opened her hers, his tongue plunging inside.
The kiss was electric, jolting her to the core. Joy sang through Lucy’s veins. They were going to make love, the two of them. Here, tonight, in Derek’s bedchamber, and Lucy wanted it so badly.
Hastily shoving his book aside, he pulled her on top of him. “I cannot wait to make you mine,” he whispered against her mouth. Their lips came together again. Their kiss was hot, fiery. Lucy was sure she would crumple into a messy pile of lust on his expensive duvet.
His mouth owned hers, shaped it, controlled it. She couldn’t get enough. She met his tongue thrust for thrust, her hands traveling over his strong shoulders still encased in a robe. His strong possessive hands made short work of ripping off her gloves, and then began unbuttoning the back of her gown. Soon, she was wearing only her shift and stays, panting, still not letting her mouth leave his. She’d known it would be this way between them. Hot, unstoppable. They both were fighting for control. But Lucy soon realized that in bed, Derek would be completely in charge. A shudder of lust worked its way up her body. Own me. The thought shimmied its way through her. She surrendered to his deft hands. Derek tugged her against him hard and rolled atop Lucy. She breathed deeply. To be doing this with a man as handsome and wonderful as Derek—it was beyond her wildest dream.
Derek leaned over her and kissed her again, once, twice. She tried to pull him fully atop her but he braced his elbows on either side of her head and held himself away. “Just a moment, love,” he said and then rolled to the edge of the bed, stood, and made his way over to the mantel where he doused the candles. The room plunged into shadowed darkness. She could still make out his form from the one remaining candle near the bed. She smiled. He must have done that in deference to her modesty. She pressed her fingertips to her lips. While it was true that she was a bit shy anticipating Derek taking off every last shred of her clothing, she was much more interested in seeing him completely nude than she ought to admit and the candles being out didn’t help. Ah, well, she would have a lifetime to learn his body. She sucked in her breath. A lifetime. They were going to be married.
Derek quickly made his way back to the bed and pulled his robe from his shoulders. He tossed the garment on the floor. Lucy got only a quick peek at the magnificence of his body. He was all angled planes and solid muscles. A scar on his shoulder, another near his waist, and, oh, she’d only got a glimpse down there and from what she could tell he was quite well endowed indeed. Derek slid atop her and quickly covered Lucy’s body with his own. Her stays were gone in an instant. Derek propped himself up on one elbow and traced the edge of the décolletage of her shift. He was a bit shaky, on the verge of losing control, and Lucy loved it. She could sense it and because he was a man who was usually so self-possessed and in control, she reveled in it.
“Do you know how badly I want to rip this thing off you?” he asked huskily.
A thrill shot through her. “How badly?”
He clenched his jaw. “Very, very badly.”
She kissed his ear. He shuddered. “Why don’t you?”
“Don’t tempt me.” His voice was still a bit uneven.
“What’s the harm?” she asked.
He nudged his nose against hers and kissed the tip. “What will you wear when you go back home?”
“My gown’s still intact, is it not?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
It took a moment for Derek to recover from the kiss before he managed to say, “I don’t want the future Duchess of Claringdon to be involved in a huge scandal.” He grinned against her lips.
“It’s far too late.” A kiss on the tip of his nose this time. “Besides, what’s the harm if it’s with her own husband?”
“I like the sound of that.” He nuzzled her ear.
“I have an idea,” Lucy said.
He kissed her neck and groaned. He gestured to her shift. “It had better involve the removal of this garment as quickly as possible.”
“Half right,” she replied coyly. She pulled away from him and shimmied off the bed. She stood and turned back to face him. Derek watched her with intense darkened eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to take off my shift and you’re going to watch.”
His green eyes flared.
Lucy took a deep breath. What had come over her? Some impish hoyden’s spirit. She had no idea what she was doing. She knew only that she wanted to please him. Well, please him and tease him a little, but judging from the look in his eyes, he liked her idea. Very much.
He’d asked her to do it quickly. She intended to do just the opposite.
She started out by pulling the garment up above her knees with both hands. “How should I do it?” she asked him. “Should I pull it up over my head or down over my hips?” The fabric was tantalizingly bunched at the juncture between her thighs. She held it just there.
Derek scrubbed a hand over his face. “Lord have mercy.”
She pulled it up just enough for him to see the sleek side of her bare hip before dropping the fabric. Derek groaned. “Changed your mind?”
She smiled coyly. “I haven’t decided yet.”
She leaned down, bracing both hands on the mattress and affording him a view of her heaving breasts pushing anxiously against the fabric of her shift. Derek’s eyes riveted to that spot. Lucy put a hand to one of the sleeves, caressing her shoulder. “Perhaps this is the better choice.”
She slowly pushed the sleeve over her shoulder with the tip of one finger. Derek closed his eyes and groaned again, but only briefly. “I do like where you’re going with this.”
She stood up and ever so slowly pushed the other sleeve over the other shoulder. Then she pulled out both arms, still holding up the décolletage to cover her breasts.
Derek scrubbed a hand over his face again. “I survived Waterloo, but this is going to be the death of me.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah, Your Grace. Don’t be impatient.”
She undid the ribbons with one hand and stepped out of the garment, still holding it up in front of her where it covered her breasts and hung in a tantalizing drape between her legs. She gave him a sultry look and watched with fascinated pride as his eyes flared with lust.
“I can’t stand it anymore,” he groaned, just before he reached out and grabbed Lucy’s hand, tugging her into the bed with him with one solid movement. He grabbed her shift in both hands and ripped the garment out of her hands, tearing it apart. He tossed it on the floor in an ignominious heap. Lucy gasped against his mouth.
“I’ll buy you another. I’ll buy you a hundred others. But I have to have you now.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
Derek leaned up on an elbow to get an unimpeded view of Lucy’s lush, ripe body. She was perfect, gorgeous, a man’s dream. Her breasts were round and full. He cupped them both in his hand, weighing them, feeling them, savoring them. Her hips were narrow and straight. Her thighs had the perfect bit of plumpness. Her legs creamy and long.
“God, you are gorgeous,” he breathed against her ear.
“So are you,” she said as his lips descended again to own hers.
He smiled against her mouth. Then he stopped, pulled back, stared deeply into her soul. “Your eyes, they’re so unique. I love them.”
“I’ve always thought they made me different. I didn’t like them.”
“They do make you different. But that’s what’s fascinating about them. They’re like you. Like mirrors into you. You’re different and depending on your mood, your eyes change colors. Did you know that?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“When you’re happy, they’re light.”
“And when I’m angry?” she asked with a smile.
“They turn dark and stormy.”
“Stormy?”
“Maybe not stormy.”
“Which way do you like best?”
He kissed her again. “I like the way they look right now.”
“How’s that?” she barely whispered.
“Beautiful and staring up at me. They’re luminous.”
Lucy wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and kissed him.
Derek pulled back and looked into her eyes again. Searching for any sign of fear or unhappiness. “Lucy, you’ve never…”
Lucy blinked at him. Was he truly asking her if she was a virgin? “No. I’ve never.”
The look on his face was half relief and half pain. He pulled one of her hands from behind his neck and kissed her knuckles. “I don’t want to hurt you, love.”
She reached out and traced the line of his dark eyebrow with her fingertip. “You could never hurt me.”
His mouth found hers again, stroked her tongue, stoked the fire that was a roiling mass below her belly. All she could think about was wanting his hand there at that private spot between her legs. The spot that ached for him.
“I’m going to make this good for you,” he promised, just before he slipped his head under the covers and began to descend her naked body. First, he stopped at her breasts, a hand kneading one while his tongue found the soft pink tip of the other. He tugged gently with his lips, letting his teeth scrape lightly against the sensitive peak.
Lucy couldn’t help herself. She arched her back off the bed. Whatever he was doing, she didn’t want him to stop. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair and she held him to her. “Derek.”
His hand came up to pluck at her other nipple. He scraped his short nail across it. The roughness combined with the heady sensation of his mouth still tugging at her other breast made her groan. “Derek,” she called again, her fingers still tangling in his dark hair.
His breath was a puff of hot air against her sensitive breast. “I could make you come like this, do you know that?”
Lucy was mindless with wanting. She didn’t know exactly what he meant but she desperately wanted to find out. She murmured her belief. “Mmm. Hmm. Is that a promise?”
He nipped at the sensitive peak of her breast. “Don’t challenge me.”
“But I love to challenge you,” she gasped, her head thrown back.
She felt his smile against her belly. “Let’s do twenty ways to make you feel good. Shall we? I’ll start with one of the best.”
Lucy shivered. The scrape of his stubbled chin against the soft skin of her abdomen made her jump. Oh God, where was he going?
“I could make you come just like this,” he repeated, still torturing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “But I’m going to do something even better.”
Lucy didn’t have long to contemplate what something even better was before Derek’s hot breath hovered just above the juncture of her thighs. Oh, God. He was going to … Oh God, yes! The tip of his tongue dipped into the cleft between her legs, and Lucy shuddered. Her entire body clamped together and trembled. His hands moved down to cup her hips, holding her steady, mastering her.
Derek knew when the tension left her legs. It was around the third deep lick. The feel, the heat, the taste of her made him insane. His hips moved unconsciously against the mattress, mimicking the movement of thrusting into her. He wanted her so badly, couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this consumed with lust. But this was Lucy’s first time. She might be a hellcat outside bed, might tease him, tempt him, and torment him, but she was a virgin, still, and he couldn’t just take her with the swiftness with which he longed to. No, he had to make this completely unforgettable for her. After all, he wanted her to come back for more. He smiled at his own thought.
His tongue traced the soft pink edges of her. And he nudged her most sensitive spot with the tip of his tongue, again, again. Lucy’s hips nearly bucked off the bed. His mouth followed her, claimed her, refused to retreat. He was holding her wrists now, had them pinned at her sides next to her hips. She struggled to pull her hands away from his strong grasp, but he didn’t allow it. “Easy,” he murmured against her intoxicating curls.
“I want to touch you,” she moaned, trying again to free her wrists from his grasp.
“Love, if you touched me right now, I’d explode.”
She bit her lip and shuddered again. “I want to make you explode.”
He smiled against the warm flesh of her thigh. “You first.” His tongue plunged back into her cleft, mercilessly swiping against the hot wet flesh. Once, twice. He swirled his tongue against the little nub of sensation that he knew would take her where he wanted her to go. Her breasts were heaving against the sheets, the sensitized nipples being rubbed raw by the soft linen. Everything that touched her skin was a torture, a torture leading to that apex between her legs where all sensation was concentrated at the moment. Her hips tensed. She lightly squeezed his head with her knees while her hips moved in an unconscious rhythm along with his torturous licks. He kept up the stroking with his tongue again, again, again, until Lucy’s feet arched off the bed. Her hips bucked, and the most powerful sensation of her life rocketed through her. She let out a keening cry while the feeling burst through her in an explosive moment that left her shimmering and shivering, hot waves of lust and amazement rolling through her entire satisfied body.
Derek held her while the rhythmic shudders coursed through her. Then he wiped the tears away from her eyes and pushed the sweaty bits of hair off her forehead. He nudged his nose against hers and kissed her full on the mouth. “How was it?” He stared into her dazed eyes.
A catlike smile spread across her gorgeous face. “I’ve never felt anything like that, ever.”
He kissed her smooth shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that.”
She playfully slapped at his shoulder. She was still breathing heavily, panting. “I’m serious, Derek. I never knew that existed. If I’d had any idea that you were capable of … that, I’d have kissed you instead of arguing with you the first night I met you.”
He let out a sharp crack of laughter. “Now, that I highly doubt.”
“Truly,” she said, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “That was simply amazing.”
He grinned from ear to ear.
Lucy widened her eyes at him. “Oh, no. Now I’ve fed your arrogance.”
“What? A man can’t bask in the glow of admiration for his lovemaking?”
She bit her lip, already preoccupied with something else. “Derek, would you … do you want me to do that to you?” she asked a bit shyly. She ducked her head under the covers, revealing only her eyes, and blinked at him.
Derek shuddered. “Oh, God, Lucy. I don’t think I could live through it if you did that to me, now. Someday? Hell yes. But tonight I just want to make it special for you.”
He rolled atop her and she threaded her arms around his neck. “I want you to make me yours, Derek. In every way.”
He kissed her again, deeply. He pushed his knee between her legs, his probing heat slid between her thighs searching for her wet warmth. He kissed her eyelids, her cheekbones, her ear, her neck. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmured just before he slipped into her, burying himself to the hilt.
Lucy gasped lightly at the invasion, but the sharp pinch was over quickly. The pained look on Derek’s face was much worse than the discomfort she’d felt. “Don’t look so upset,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“Did I hurt you?” he panted.
“I’m fine.”
Somehow Derek knew she wouldn’t be dramatic about it. She might have a rapier for a tongue, but she was honest and forthright and simple in so many ways. Ways he greatly admired.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you,” he breathed, just before he began a slow steady rhythm with his hips that had Lucy wet and wanting all over again.
“I love you,” he whispered against her ear many minutes later just before he exploded inside of her and collapsed on top of her, satisfied and happy.
“I love you, too, Derek,” she whispered into his ear.