The Lady's Wicked Proposition (Wicked Liaisons series) Read online

  Delicate fingers trembled as they worked the buttons free, and he hissed when her arm brushed his cock in the process. She pulled his pantaloons down, and a tendril of hair swept back and forth over his shaft. He shivered and a drop of moisture beaded over the head.

  “Lie down,” he commanded, unable to endure the inadvertent tease of her body caressing his.

  Dina obeyed, climbing back onto the bed and spreading her legs for him. At the sight of her wet pussy, he couldn’t help but stroke his cock. He was hard and ready to spend himself inside of her.

  After yanking off his boots and tossing his pantaloons, he padded over to a small black and gold Chinoiserie cabinet. Picking out a French letter, he tore off the seal and slipped it over his erection.

  “W-what is that?” Dina asked.

  “Neither of us wants a babe,” he said, giving her a pointed look. “This will take care of that.”

  Her blue eyes were the size of robin’s eggs. Before his startled little deer could run away, Francis knelt onto the mattress and cupped her face. After planting soft kisses on her ears, her nose, and her lips, he whispered, “You wanted a man of experience, who would take good care of you. I promise to do exactly that.”

  Dina nodded and wrapped her arms around his back. He lay still for a moment, giving her time to acclimate to his weight. This close, he felt the rapid pitter-patter of her pulse, and his fingers drew circles over her heart.

  She sighed and slid her thigh over his, warming him all over. Moving slowly, he settled himself against her sex, letting her feel the full weight of his cock.

  When she moved her hips, rubbing her pussy over him, he had to grip the headboard for a moment to keep from shoving himself inside. As much as he wanted to fuck her, he had to be gentle or risk ruining the experience for her.

  He reached down and slipped a finger inside her opening, testing her. She was still slick from her earlier orgasm, so he eased in a second finger. Inside, she tightened around him. He pumped in, letting his fingers go halfway before pulling them out again.

  At first, she tensed up, but he used his free hand to play with her nipple as his two fingers slid back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm. Her soft cries resonated deep within him, and he knew that tonight would not be enough.

  He wanted more of her. More of her body, her kisses, even her laugh. It was more than sex, because he hadn’t even fucked her properly yet, and she was still at the beginning of her sexual journey.

  Dina pulled at his hair, her fingers gripping hard as he thrust his fingers deeper. He slipped a third finger inside, and she rotated her hips.

  “Relax your legs,” he instructed.

  She became pliant, and he spread her thighs wide open. He positioned his cock at her entrance, gripped the headboard with one hand, and flattened his other hand onto the bed for greater control.

  “Breathe deeply,” he said. Waiting until she exhaled, he inched inside of her. Following the rhythm of her breath, he eased his way inside and back again.

  Her vaginal walls closed tight around his shaft. The pressure felt so good, but he hated the thought of hurting her, so he slowed the pace until he could discern that she was aroused rather than discomfited.

  With a light flick of his thumb, he teased her nub, hoping to rekindle her desire. Dina moaned, so he stroked her more firmly.

  As her hands dug into his shoulders, he eased a little deeper. He took his time, easing back out and then fingering her clitoris each time he thrust forward. When she started to rock her hips, he let himself go, lunging deep.

  Dina cried out, and he bent to kiss her cheek and stroke her face. Then he circled his finger over her jewel again, massaging it until Dina relaxed. With his other hand, he played with her nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger.

  Her soft gasps urged him on, and he resumed his thrusts. Giving into the pleasure, he moved faster, driving in and out of her in a steady rhythm. Eager, she pulled her knees toward her chest. He sunk deeper, harder.

  As Dina’s moans increased, he resumed toying her nub, knowing that she was close to finding release. His own need clawed at him, and he barely held himself in check. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast, but it was important to him to make her first time memorable.

  So he measured his thrusts—slow, long, short, pull back, slow, long, short, pull back.

  “Please.”

  He kissed her forehead, then her lips. Taking a deep breath, he gave in and let go. She wanted more, and he would give it.

  Increasing the pace, he took her the way he wanted, lunging in and out, so hard and deep that the oak bed rocked and creaked under them. Dina gripped his arms and squeezed tight around his cock, her body freezing as her eyes rolled back and she screamed in pleasure.

  Her tight pussy clenched over him, and he couldn’t help himself. Losing himself in her warm body, he rocked his hips back and forth until his body tensed and his release shattered through him.

  Though he wanted to stay inside of her, he was far too cautious to take the risk, so he slipped out, then collapsed, wrapping his arms around her. She clung to him, and they said not a word, only sighed.

  As they lay entwined, he threaded his fingers through hers. Tonight was the first of many nights to come. He would teach her about desire, show her how to seduce and enthrall, how to give and receive pleasure.

  All he had to do was say yes to her proposal.

  ***

  The cool, morning air swept across Dina’s face and she opened her eyes to find that she was not in her bed, but in a large, foreign room with pale green walls, two Chinoiserie cabinets, and a tall armoire.

  As she looked at the painted gold figure of a Chinese woman holding a parasol, Dina thought of a similar cabinet her mother once owned. Every morning, Dina would watch her mother wash her face and lay out her perfumes and creams before she chose a dress for the day.

  Another breeze hit Dina’s skin, and she shivered, turning her gaze away.

  A heavy arm wrapped around her, tight as a vise. Gently, she pushed, but to no avail. Even wriggling in his grasp had no effect. His weight trapped her, and she could not breathe.

  She wanted out.

  Dina glanced at Chevalier, whose face pressed into her shoulder, and the memories of last night came back to her. He’d accepted her proposition, loving her so thoroughly she’d given no thought to anything but passion.

  The reality of her situation set in. She was a virgin no more. She’d given herself to a man who was not her husband, a man she barely knew. Her mother would be ashamed, were she still alive. Her grandfather would disown her—unless he thought he could get something valuable out of Chevalier, then he’d sell her off without a thought.

  Dina’s stomach roiled. She needed to get out of this room.

  With a shove, she tried to push him off. Chevalier stirred and glanced up at her with sleepy-looking eyes, a lock of his light brown hair curled over the front of his face.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “I must…use the pot,” she said, desperate to escape the room and collect herself.

  “There is one under the bed.” He pointed to the brown-and green striped sheets.

  “No, I must have complete privacy,” she said.

  He rested his face on his hand. “My dear, I have already seen everything.” His other hand toyed with the string on the front of her chemise.

  “But you will hear me!” Did she really sound so shrill? Panic threatened to overtake her, but she hid her upset.

  Thankfully, he only laughed at her protest. “Go out the door and to the right. Two doors down, there is another room with a pot that you can use.” He kissed her, and she forced herself to stay still. “Come back soon.”

  As soon as he released her, Dina flew out of the room, not caring when her feet reached the end of the carpet and touched the cold floorboards. She ran through the hall to the other room, careful not to slam the door as she rushed to the chamber pot.

  Thank heaven. It was
a proper chair with the pot underneath. Kneeling, she gripped the wooden arms of the seat and bent over, hoping the nausea would subside.

  Tears streamed down her face.

  She’d been foolish to throw herself at Chevalier like some loose woman. He’d had the good sense to resist until she’d bribed him with promises of a false engagement.

  You can still back out, she reminded herself.

  Could she survive the embarrassment? She was the one who’d come up with the plan, and now she wanted to run away from it—from him.

  The truth was she’d loved being kissed and held, being stroked and teased. What she did not love was this empty feeling that threated to eat her alive.

  After sex, he’d held her, and at first, it was comforting. But then, he continued to hold her. He wanted to sleep holding her. She woke up with him holding her.

  It was too much.

  Dina had offered her body to Chevalier, thinking that it would be just her physical self and nothing more. She would use him for her own desires—as he’d no doubt used many women before her—and it would be a game, meaningless fun and entertainment.

  But when he’d taken her maidenhead, he’d taken something else, too. What it was, she could not say, but she knew that she would never get it back. A piece of herself was gone.

  Go home, she told herself. Get dressed and go home. You can tell him you need to rest and then explain yourself later. Chevalier had asked the hackney to return, so it was possible that the man was outside waiting for her.

  As soon as Dina tried to stand up, her stomach roiled again, and she sat back down. She took a deep breath. The room was drafty, and a short sleeved chemise did not shield her from the chill.

  Resting her chin on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her legs and sighed. Perhaps she should call for peppermint tea, which usually soothed her at stressful times.

  If she called for a servant—or Chevalier—he would know something was wrong. So she stayed where she was, took deep breaths, and tried to calm herself.

  There is no need to cry. You made a mistake, and you just need to acknowledge it and move on. There is no use crying over spilled milk. You got exactly what you wanted, with the man you wanted.

  It was true. Chevalier had been the perfect choice, the perfect lover. As she thought back to last night, her arousal resurfaced. Despite the fact that she wanted to go home, wanted to get out, her desire for him had not abated.

  How could she desire a man so keenly, yet want to run from him at the same time?

  As if conjured by Mephistopheles, Chevalier appeared at the door. He wore a pine green dressing gown and nothing else. She could see his hard cock, and her sex warmed in response.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you unwell?”

  “No. Yes.”

  He knelt beside her. “Which is it, my sweet?”

  “I need to go home.”

  His gaze perused her from top to bottom. “Are you sure you should travel in this state?”

  “Yes. No.”

  “Come lie down.” He scooped her up and carried her into the hall.

  “What if I should heave? I feel ill.”

  “There is a chamber pot under the bed, sweetheart. I shall not be offended if you need to use it.”

  Dina wrapped her arms around him and held on. Her emotions were a jumble. One minute, she wanted to get as far from him as possible, the next minute, she wanted the safety of his embrace. And all the while, desire simmered under the surface.

  Moving from the warmth of his touch to the cool silk sheets sent a shiver through Dina. Chevalier gathered the blankets over her, then kissed her nose before he pulled out the porcelain chamber pot.

  Without a word, he retrieved a wet towel from the basin by the window, then stroked her cheeks and forehead. Dina stared at the beautiful man before her who was far kinder than he needed to be. To stay would inconvenience him further.

  “I think I am well enough to return home.” Once she was outside in the fresh morning air, with the cool breeze on her face, she’d feel better. She needed to clear her head and decide what she was going to do.

  “No, you are not.”

  “The sun is rising, and if I do not leave soon, the neighbors might notice my departure.”

  Grasping her hand in his, he massaged the back of her palm with his thumb. Such a simple thing, meant to soothe. Why did she feel guilty?

  With a tilt of his head, he stared at her, his lips moving from a smile to a thin, flat line. “Are you anxious to leave?”

  She glanced down, afraid to hold his gaze. “I must return to Berkeley Square.”

  “You could remain here. I know you are worried about your reputation, but tomorrow it will be all over town that we are engaged, so what does it matter if someone sees you leaving this afternoon?”

  “A lady does not visit a gentleman at home, unaccompanied.”

  “If you stay, no one has to know. I can safely sneak you away after midnight.” He touched a lock of her hair and Dina pulled back, afraid that if he initiated any intimacy, she would not be able to resist him.

  Dina put her feet on the floor, bending her head down over her lap when she felt the nausea rising. “Please. Let me go.”

  Picking up the empty chamber pot, he placed it in her lap. “If you must go, I shall not stop you, but I think it unwise.” She glanced up to see him standing with his arms crossed. “Aside from the fact that you are running away from me.”

  “I think we acted in haste.”

  “You regret the offer you made to me yesterday.”

  “You said if it did not work, we could forget the agreement and pretend last night never happened.”

  “Did you trick me, Edwina? Was this some ploy to get your way without ever having to agree to the engagement?”

  “You are the one who was hesitant, not I.”

  He leaned over, bracing his arms on either side of her. “Tell me this, have you changed your mind?”

  Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath. He was so close. As she inhaled, she could smell his rich, masculine scent, and the desire to kiss him warred with her need for self-preservation.

  It would be better to gain some space, to process her feelings before she let him take her to bed again. If she ignored reason and gave in to him, things might be worse tomorrow.

  “I take it by your silence that you have changed your mind. I assume the engagement is off.” He stood up, causing the dressing gown to fall open.

  “I..am sorry. I never intended to use you.”

  Chevalier let out a long breath and went to pour himself a glass of wine. He took a sip, and then poured a second glass and handed it to her. “What is done is done. I will check to see if the hackney has returned. If he hasn’t, I shall escort you home myself.”

  He slipped off the dressing gown and walked over to a large armoire. Taking a sip from her glass, she admired his naked form as he pulled out clothes to wear.

  “Do you need to call for a valet?” she asked.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he tied the strings on his undershirt. “The less people who see you the better.”

  Chevalier did not have to be so kind to her, not after she’d reneged on the agreement. She’d thrown herself at him like a Drury Lane strumpet, and he was within his right to be angry.

  “You are not what I expected,” she said.

  With a wink, he said, “Neither are you.”

  His playfulness soothed and relaxed her, and as Dina watched him dress, her anxiety dissipated to a fine mist.

  “Come here, my sweet,” he said, once he’d tucked in his shirt and buttoned his buckskin breeches.

  “Why?”

  He shot her a stern look. “So that I may dress you.” When he sensed her skepticism, he reminded her, “I am familiar with a lady’s toilette. I have laced—and unlaced—many a corset and tied countless petticoats.”

  Holding out her short stays, he slid her arms through the opening.
/>   Dina found herself curious. “How many?”

  “I thought you preferred a rake with a sense of discretion.” He reached for the laces and tied the front before she could even speak a word.

  “Will you tell me if I guess correctly?”

  After securing her petticoat over the chemise, he came around to face her. “And divulge my secrets?” He raised his eyebrows. “What will the lady wager if she loses?”

  “A shilling?”

  “I would prefer a kiss, but I will accept the shilling.” He grinned at her before he recovered her gown from the floor.

  Bantering with Chevalier reminded her of the nights they’d spent playing cards together. She’d never met a man so easy to talk to. While she’d certainly met plenty of charmers this season, they were only interested in her money. Even the married men of her acquaintance wanted her to invest in a real estate venture or shipping expedition—when they weren’t pushing their sons and brothers in front of her.

  But not Chevalier. He’d asked for nothing but conversation and a card game. Until last night, that is.

  “Chevalier, may I ask you something?”

  “I thought the point of this game was to guess.” He fastened her dress in place and knelt to put on her slipper.

  “It is. However, I am not speaking of that now.” A steady throbbing filled her ears and her mouth went dry. “If I had kept silent this morning and not pushed to leave, would you have agreed to become my fiancé?”

  Setting down her foot with care, he looked up and enthralled her with his stare. Dina’s breath caught. Chevalier stood, resting one hand on her hip and lifted her chin with the other.

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Hmmm?” she was so lost in his gaze that she was not sure she’d heard correctly.

  “Do you want to ask me again, Dina?”

  His proximity overwhelmed her. She could hardly breathe, but this time it wasn’t from fear. The intensity of her own desire impeded her.