Page 36 of What Lies Beneath

Pip snatched her glasses from her nose and dropped them carelessly on the table, where they immediately slid off and fell to the floor. Uncaring of their fate, he leaned closer, pushing her knees apart as layers of fabric and petticoats rustled and hissed. His hand slid behind her neck, tipping her head back as he took control of the kiss. Her breath hitched as he slowed her awkward kisses, showing her the way of it, the deliberate slide and parry of tongues and an exchange that bordered on a delicate form of combat as she sought at first to mimic and then to best him. Her eagerness, the force of her desire, only made his own burn hotter as he fought to get closer, frustrated by too many layers as her skirts bedevilled him and those wicked buttons invited him to undo them one by one. Knowing his patience would not cope with such a trial, his hands fell to her skirts. Yet she too seemed to feel the same irritation as her hands finally released their death grip on his coat and slid down his chest, only to yank at his shirt. She wrenched it free of his waistband and Pip groaned with pleasure as her cool hands slid over his hot skin, making him shiver with delight.

Their kisses grew increasingly fervent as he tugged at her skirts, his hands encircling her ankles and sliding up her calves, up behind her knees. His grip firmed as he tugged her forward to the edge of the chair, pushing up her skirts whilst never breaking the kiss. She had one hand beneath his shirt, sliding over his chest as the other tangled in his hair, holding his head as if she feared he might break the kiss, foolish girl. As if he could. He was in the grip of a madness so all-consuming he could think of nothing but this moment, and every delectable moment still to come. Thank God she had been married before and was an experienced woman. At least he need not worry about ruining an innocent or he might just lose his mind.

For a moment he wondered at her clumsy kisses but pushed the concern away. Many men could not be bothered with kisses, wanting only to satisfy their basest desires, or sometimes simply to get a child on their wife, reserving anything resembling affection for their mistresses. She had implied several times that her marriage had been an unhappy one, and if her fool of a husband had not had the decency to explore all aspects of pleasure with his wife, that was his loss. Pip was not about follow his example. Besides, she was a quick learner, and her fiery passion stole his breath, never mind any lingering shred of reason.

So he did not think of what might happen once they had sated their need, as his palms slid up her satiny thighs, devouring her gasp of surprise as his fingers brushed against the soft triangle of curls. Sliding his hand closer to his goal and touching that most hidden part of her, his heart soared as her hips jerked upwards, a soft cry torn from her mouth.

“Yes,” he whispered against her mouth. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He touched her again, careful and caressing as she broke the kiss, her eyes flying open to gaze at him in wonder. In that moment, he realised that her eyes, usually obscured by those wretched glasses, were beautiful. A delicate hazel, they were flecked with emerald and gold, and she stared at him with such trust and such dazed wanting, that his chest seemed to expand with sheer joy. He had always been a generous lover, enjoying giving his time, finding as much gratification in his partner’s satisfaction as in his own. Yet, watching her face as each touch resonated through her body was somehow different and far more profound. Indeed, he believed it to be the single most erotic and memorable moment he could ever remember in a life that was not unencumbered by romantic adventures. Stern Mrs Harris, coming apart in his arms with such wanton abandon, would live in his memory until his dying breath.

“Oh,” she gasped, her eyes widening, something like fear flickering there as he sensed the moment the climax would take her.

Lord, but her husband must have been an ignorant brute, for she clearly did not know what was happening to her, what the touching and pleasuring led to if a man had a whit of sense or the decency to care for his partner.

“It’s all right,” he soothed. “I’ve got you. I won’t let go. Trust me.”

She gazed up at him for a long moment, a silent battle waging behind her eyes until she let go, trusting him as he had asked, and lord, but the moment was sweet. Triumph and joy suffused him as she gasped and sighed, her body convulsing with pleasure as she held onto him, not letting go even after she subsided, boneless and sated beneath him.

The earl stared down at her, his eyes warm and a definite hint of smugness in his expression. Well may he look pleased with himself, Regina thought desperately. For she’d had no idea, no clue, that such sensations could be found with a man, and he hadn’t even… well, he hadn’t even done what she assumed all men did with their mistresses. She was not a complete innocent and had worked the secret out many years ago. It was not so difficult after so long living in the countryside. But he had taken no pleasure of his own, which surprised her. Looking at him now, she realised he had found as much satisfaction in giving to her, which made sense, for she was just as eager to return the favour. The idea of offering him such indescribable joy, of having him shake with the force of his own release as she held him in her arms, as he had just done for her, made her feel at once powerful and humbled by the privilege if he would allow her the chance.

It was just so shockingly intimate, and the thought that he had shared such experiences with many women before her, and likely would with many more after, made her sad. It seemed such a profound experience one ought not to cheapen it so, but men and women considered such matters differently, and she did not wish to spoil the perfection of this moment with such thoughts. Thinking would make her contemplate the future, it would make her consider the danger and recklessness of her behaviour, and she did not wish to dwell upon that either. There would be time enough for regret and recriminations. They had likely just ruined everything between them, but if it was already ruined, then she would wring every ounce of pleasure from the ruining that she could.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his mouth against the tender skin beneath her ear. Regina shivered, even as an objection rose to her lips.

“I am not beautiful,” she protested. “And there’s no need to shower me with Spanish coin.”

The earl lifted his head and gazed down at her. “Why must you challenge me at every turn? You are beautiful, you frustrating creature, and I want you so badly I think I shall run mad. These wicked buttons are not helping matters,” he added, touching a finger to the one directly beneath her chin.

Still overwhelmed by the idea that he could want her so desperately, Regina looked down at the row of little buttons with a sceptical expression. “They’re just buttons,” she replied.

Ashburton shook his head. “Whoever made that dress was diabolical and put all those buttons there with the sole intention of driving me out of my mind. You cannot know how desperately I long to undo them.”

Regina blinked up at him, taken aback by the idea her buttons had provoked him so. She looked at the earl, a naughty smile curving her lips. “Well, I’m not stopping you.”

Heat and desire flashed in his eyes, and Regina swallowed a little shout of triumph. Such power there was in this feeling, in seeing how he wanted her. The place where he had touched her throbbed unbearably, a hollowed out sensation growing inside her, and she longed for him to do what he desired .

“You ought not say such things,” he said, his voice husky. “I have already taken the most appalling liberties.”

“No, you haven’t,” Regina countered, for she was nothing if not fair-minded. “You were moving away. I was the one who held on and kissed you like my life depended on it. Indeed, I believe I was rather forthright and clear in my actions,” she added, feeling as amused as she was shocked by her own daring.

The earl’s mouth kicked up at the corners and Regina’s breath caught at the sight of one his rare smiles. A proper smile, one that reached his eyes, the kind he reserved for his daughter and his family. Never had she seen such an uninhibited smile directed at her before. She had lingered at the edges of it, and it had felt like turning her face to the sun when he had greeted her in company with Tilly, but she had never fooled herself into thinking it had been directed at her. There was no doubt now, however. Her heart turned over in her chest and Regina acknowledged everything she had known was dangerous about allowing herself to get close to this man. She was so far out of her depth that, if she sank, she would never touch the bottom.

“So you were,” he admitted, his eyes slanting back to the buttons which tormented him so.

Inspired by the desperate quality of that look, Regina sat up in the chair, adopting a stern expression, even though her skirts were all awry, and held his gaze. Slowly, she lifted her hands to the very top button and slid it undone.

A sudden flush of colour crested his high cheekbones, his usually austere face suffused with longing.

Biting back a triumphant smile, Regina carried on, her hands dropping with agonising deliberation to the next button. She undid it, watching his face with fascination.

His breath hitched.

Though the urge to crow with delight was nigh on irresistible, Regina held her tongue, her fingers dropping to the next button.

“Damn you, you’ll drive me to Bedlam,” he growled, and pushed her hands away, falling upon the buttons with a wild glint in his eyes that delighted her. His clever fingers were ruthless, and she refused to consider how much practise he’d had to become so well acquainted with a lady’s apparel. Still, she was shocked when he sat back to regard his handiwork with a worshipful expression, and she discovered not only her buttons had come undone, but her breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze.

Before she had time to gasp and come over all maidenly and shy—and she thought it was a little late for such behaviour in any case—he had put his hands on her. So instead of blushing and trying to cover herself, which would have been a foolish thing to do, Regina moaned with abandon, arching up into his touch and crying out as he covered her breast with his mouth. Her mind whited out, any coherent thoughts scattering. There was only this man, this moment, and the need she felt to have him become a part of her in the only way that could satisfy her longing.