Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(67)

He carried her through the entrance hall and up the stairs. Visualizing the windows as he’d so often viewed them from the street, he set off down the corridor, counting doors until he arrived at her apartment.

“How do you know which one is mine?” she asked, as he shouldered open the door to her sitting room.

“Lucky guess.”

He covered the carpet in three paces, swept her into the bedchamber, and fell with her onto the bed. A heap of white pillows and downy quilts sucked them in like a snowdrift. Julian sputtered at a bit of lace in his mouth and rolled onto his side, facing her. What with all the white, and the hour of noon approaching, the room was wild with sunlight.

“Oh, it’s dreadful, isn’t it?” she said, batting away clouds of white bedding. “I had it done up this way when I was seventeen, and it’s never been redecorated.”

He huffed at a tiny feather floating between them, then gave her a wolfish grin. “Very virginal.”

All the better to ravish you on, my dear. This bed was like his most depraved adolescent fantasy come to life. Taking a well-bred lady on a cloud of white lace; pushing his crude, baseborn c**k into her immaculate, tightly guarded virtue. And this was even better than the fantasy, because Lily belonged to him. She was his wife. Her immaculate, tight … God, he just knew she would be so tight … virtue was his. Not for the taking, but for the keeping. Forever.

It was the most heart-tugging, frightening, and flat-out arousing notion he’d ever contemplated. His trousers pulled snug over his groin.

“Then it’s still appropriate, I suppose. I mean … that is to say …” Her face went pink against the white linen. “You know there haven’t been others.”

Dear, sweet Lily. He smoothed the hair from her brow, forcing himself to rein in his lustful impulses for the moment. “Are you anxious?”

“No. Well, only a little. But it’s a pleasant sort of anxious.”

“You needn’t worry. This is going to be amazing. Spectacular.”

She laughed. “Perhaps I should fault the arrogance of that statement, but I’m rather comforted by it, truthfully.”

“It’s not arrogance, it’s a promise. This is going to be wonderful,” he insisted, “and I will tell you why. Because if at any time, you are feeling something less than indescribable bliss, you are going to tell me so, and I will stop at once. Do you understand? I would never hurt you.”

She nodded. “What a very husbandly thing to say.” With a little gasp, she bolted straight up in bed. As if she’d just now received an express notifying her of the fact, she grinned down at him and said, “I’m your wife, Julian. I’m Mrs. Bellamy.”

Her eyes sparkled with delight, sending bright shards of happiness to pierce his heart. She’d never looked so beautiful.

“No,” he said, struggling to sit up next to her, “you are still the daughter of a marquess. You are Mrs. Nothing. You are, and will always be, Lady Lily Bellamy.”

“Heavens.” Her hand went to her brow. “Another L sound in my name. That’s four now.”

“Too late. You can’t take it back.”

“Are you sure?” She toyed with his cravat. “You still haven’t kissed me, you know.”

He slowly leaned in, giving her ample time to retract that teasing smile to a soft, luscious pout. Their noses touched. She inhaled a quick breath. And just the instant before he pressed his lips to hers, she whispered, “I love you so.”

He covered the precious words with his mouth, needing to drink them in. Sipping at each of her lips in turn, then delving lightly with his tongue. She reached for him, curling her fingers in his hair, and as he deepened the kiss, she moaned in the back of her throat.

Desire swept him like a flame through dry bracken. It took everything he had to hold to that promise he’d just made, and not simply push her back against the counterpane and sink into her at once. But he was determined to make this every bit as good for her as it was doubtless going to be for him.

He left her mouth and began a thorough investigation of the spot beneath her ear. Nuzzling first, then tasting with lips and tongue. She was so delicious, he couldn’t resist a playful bite.

She gave a sharp cry.

He pulled away. “Have I hurt you?”

“No.” She looked puzzled. “Why do you ask?”

“You … you made a noise.”

“Oh, did I?” She smiled sheepishly. “I suppose because I liked it.”

Right. He needed her under him, now. His hands gathered fistfuls of billowing white lace.

“Now who’s anxious?” she asked, skimming a teasing touch along his jaw. “Last night in the hack, I’m positive I was making all manner of sounds. You weren’t so concerned then.”

“Last night was different.” Last night, he was different. Julian wasn’t sure how to explain it. In that carriage, he’d been a thief, taking what didn’t belong to him under cover of night. Today, he was a bridegroom, who’d just pledged to cherish and protect this woman all the days of his life. The difference was so profound, it was … well, it was night and day.

“Let’s settle on a signal,” she suggested. “A word. If I’m uncomfortable or in pain, I’ll say that word. With all other noises, you can assume the best. Do you agree?”