Page 78 of Make Mine a Marquess

She’d confessed she wasn’t a virgin. His first instinct was rage that she’d been intimate with Willard. A woman like Phoebe would only lie with a man she cared for. For reasons he refused to fully acknowledge, the idea that she’d gifted Willard her virginity was abominable. But when she’d confessed the truth, his anger had quickly dissipated. A tryst as a sixteen-year-old with a groom hardly counted as experience. She’d stood before him, innocent in the ways that truly mattered.

She’d been fearless in her lovemaking. Taking what she wanted, and sweetly giving at the same time. When he’d pumped in and out of her body, her cries of ecstasy were an experience he’d never forget. Her eyes had slid shut, her head had pressed back to reveal her slender throat and the deep rose tips of her luscious breasts. Her keens of pleasure fueled his own lust, and when she’d tightened around him, reaching her own climax, he’d been lost. His own pleasure had been swift and sharp.

He’d thought by finally having her, his need would wane. How wrong he’d been.

He wanted her again. Soon. Now.

This fascination, and it was one for certain, had to end. She was no longer a means to an end. She’d turned out to be more, much more.

Still, she was to marry Willard.

And Willard must pay for his sins.

So where did that leave Phoebe?

Was she just a pawn used to increase her family’s status? Landon knew her family was wealthy. Her father had made his fortune in coal. Dawson was a shrewd businessman and had started out with one coal mine, then, over time, had invested in more. He currently owned six collieries. He’d improved the efficiency of the equipment and paid the coal miners a fraction more and had increased profits. He had more money than many of the beau monde, but he lacked a title. As for his wife, Phoebe’s mother, she sought to be accepted in Society.

A title could not be purchased from the Crown, but it could be acquired in other ways. Having a beautiful daughter could solve the problem where money couldn’t.

Willard was certainly getting the better part of the bargain. His blackguard of a cousin would have Phoebe on his arm, as a chatelain of his home, and in his bed. Eventually, the mother of his children.

Jealousy and possessiveness pierced the center of Landon’s chest.

She obviously didn’t know about her fiancé’s dirty past. If his cousin had succeeded, Landon would be fish food at the bottom of the sea, and Willard would have inherited the marquessate. It was bad enough Willard had been trustee of Landon’s lands and property while he’d been missing. He’d spent lavishly and had neglected the tenants and servants. And if it was as Landon suspected, his cousin’s murderous efforts would continue. Landon couldn’t let his cousin get away with his past crimes, let alone any future ones. Any of it.

So what did all this mean regarding Phoebe? Why had she accepted Willard’s proposal to begin with? He’d seen no affection between them during these weeks of the house party. He knew of her parents’ motives, of course. He’d originally believed Phoebe’s goals were the same. But it seemed they weren’t.

His thoughts turned to her confession regarding a groomsman when she was young. What had happened to her young lover? Had he left her or had her parents discovered their liaison? Had she been heartbroken? Left pregnant? Did her experience have to do with her choice of charity? Aram had brought this up but Landon had dismissed it as highly unlikely. Now he wondered if he’d dismissed it in haste.

She stirred and turned in his arms to face him. Her lids slid open and brilliant blue eyes met his. She gifted him with a smile, and his heart stilled.

“What time is it, my lord?”

His fingers stroked down her arm. “The sun is not yet up.”

“Good. Then there’s time.”

His heart rate ticked up and his tone was hopeful. “Time for?”

“For more.”

Sweet heaven. “And?” His tone turned teasing.

“And you talk too much.” She matched his teasing tone and look.

Gloriously naked, she rose on top of him and kissed him. She was a seductress, a Venus, his erotic dream come true.

He kissed her hard, his hands sliding over smooth skin to cup her buttocks. She spread her legs to straddle him, and at the touch of her slick folds against his hardness, he groaned. She was wet and ready. She arched, her breasts tantalizingly above him. He sucked a nipple deep into his mouth and thrust into her with one bold stroke.

She moaned, her body accepting his length and milking him with her slickness. Tossing her head back, her long hair teased his thighs. Her nipples were pebble hard as she rode him and took her own pleasure. He kept his eyes open, not wanting to miss her passion. Her cheeks were pink, her lips wet and bee stung from his kisses. His own pleasure came swift and strong, and he grasped her hips to be sure he did not come inside her.

Afterward, he held her tight against his side, their heartbeats intermingling.

She slid her leg between his and yawned. “I must leave before the sun rises.”

“I know.”

“We leave Landon Manor too soon.”