An hour later, Thomas was striding up the steps to Jane and Percy’s house, the door swinging open before he could knock.
She stood as though framed, the low light behind her limning her form. She had changed out of her star gown, and now stood in what appeared to be a dressing gown—it was made of a soft fabric, wrapped around her and secured with a belt made of the same material.
Her hair was undone, flowing onto her shoulders, and her feet were bare.
“Should I—?” he asked, pausing at the door.
“Come in,” she said, swinging the door wide. “Percy went to bed right after we returned. Mrs. Charing is visiting her sister. Cook is in her room, and—”
“I don’t need to know where everyone in the household is,” Thomas interrupted, smiling.
She returned the smile as he stepped inside, and she shut the door behind them.
There was a candlestick on one of the tables in the hallway, the only light in the room. The flickering light cast her face in shadow, and he desperately wanted to see her, see her expression, know if this was truly what she wanted.
“You know why you’re here,” she said in a low tone of voice. “I want—”
He waited as she hesitated, seeming to search for the words.
“I want you,” she finished simply.
He took a step toward her. Now he was close enough to see her face, despite the darkness. Her eyes were wide and shining, her lips curled into a near smile, her gaze direct.
His fingers itched to touch her, but he had to make absolutely certain. “What are you asking me, Jane?”
She licked her lips, the action shooting straight to his groin. “I know tomorrow is—well, tomorrow. But tonight, I want you. I want to learn everything. I want to do everything, and I will deal with the consequences.”
If she got pregnant, she meant. If that happened, could he bear to know that a child of his was out there being raised by the woman he loved?
He couldn’t. Not when his heart was already shattered.
“So you agree?” she said. “I have fulfilled my part of the bargain”—meaning his finding a bride—“and now I want you to fulfill yours.”
He moved forward another step. Now so close to her that when she breathed, her body touched his. He kept his arms locked down by his side, aware that if he let them move they would wrap around her and never let go.
“This wasn’t part of the original agreement.” He paused. “But I am willing to negotiate to accommodate this recent demand.”
She met his gaze, the honest determination in her eyes entirely undoing him. “Come upstairs with me, then.”
She turned, and he followed, swooping to gather her into his arms. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, her dressing gown sliding open to reveal a very serviceable nightdress.
Possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, that sensible nightdress.
Because it was her wearing it, and she was inviting him into her bed.
“You don’t have to carry me—I am perfectly capable of walking up the stairs myself,” she said in a mock chiding tone.
“I want to. I want to teach you how to be swept away up the stairs by your lover.” Saying the word aloud—lover—made it feel even more real. “I am supposed to teach you, remember? So just relax and enjoy your lesson.”
Her breath hitched at his words, and she clutched him tighter around the neck, putting her head down on his shoulder, and then whispering into his ear.
“Teach me all of it, Thomas. I need to know everything tonight.”
He sprinted up the rest of the stairs.
Jane felt almost gleeful now that he was here. Tomorrow, she would be heartbroken and devastated, but that was tomorrow.
Hadn’t the fortune teller told her she should be brave and fearless? Or something to that effect.
And so, while she was watching him circulate effortlessly through the party, tossing a smile here, a clever compliment there, she was thinking.
About how this—their partnership—would be finished when he had persuaded an heiress to marry him. And judging by how quite a few of the ladies were looking at him this evening, he would not have to work that hard to persuade one of them.
And how she had no idea what her future held, just that it would be hers to decide.
So she was going to decide it.
And she’d decided she wanted to experience all of it, do all the things she’d watched in that illicit house of pleasure.
This time, it would be her on the bed receiving Thomas’s attentions. He’d slide that remarkable appendage of his—his cock—into her, filling her completely, and she would take it, take all of him.
If he wanted that, of course.
And then they would part ways, knowing their partnership had truly been completed, that they had become joined in sexual congress.
She’d have something to remember when she was doing whatever it was she was going to do.
Thankfully, he had been just as wanting as she, even making certain it was what she truly wanted. Always a gentleman, even when doing things a gentleman would not do with a lady who was not his wife.
He was carrying her down the hall to her bedroom, his arms strong around her, as she lowered her mouth to his neck and began to kiss him.
He growled in response, walking more quickly, until he flung the door to her bedroom open and tossed her on the bed, kicking the door shut as he advanced toward her, a deliciously predatory look on his face.
He was already removing his jacket, and she held her hand up. “No, stop.”
He froze, waiting for her instruction.
Oh, and wasn’t that delightful?
What could she order him to do? She hadn’t realized that kind of power was so alluring until she’d seen the two performers—Miles and Hattie—and how the stronger of the two had totally acquiesced to whatever it was the other wanted.
Kiss me. Kiss me there. Kiss me everywhere.
She squirmed as she thought about it, and he raised a knowing eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking about?” he asked, still not moving.
Jane sat up on the bed, undoing the tie of her robe, sliding the heavy garment off her shoulders. She’d pondered wearing a shift or nothing at all underneath, but had decided to wear what she normally wore to bed—a plain cotton nightdress. Because she would likely be wearing the same nightdress, or a similar one, to bed every night for the rest of her life, and she wanted to know what it was like to wear something so common, so usual, when she was doing something quite unusual.
“You are so damned beautiful,” he said in a hoarse voice. His eyes drank her in, roaming all over her body like a caress.
“As are you,” she replied. “Take your jacket off,” she ordered, imitating Hattie’s commanding tone.
He gave a wolfish smile, removing the jacket quickly, then returned to where he’d been. Understanding he wasn’t to do anything without her telling him.
God, but the absolute power of it. It was intoxicating, as though she’d drunk an entire glass of champagne in one swallow—bubbles fizzing through her, lighting her senses up.
“And your neckcloth,” she continued.
He complied, tossing the fabric to the floor.
“No,” she said, “bring it over here.”
He bent down to retrieve it, walking over to her with it in his hand.
She took it, then lifted her chin. “I will do the rest,” she said, indicating his shirt and trousers.
He inhaled sharply, and she bit her lip, his eyes tracking the movement.
Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one as she kept her gaze locked on his face.
His hands moved, as though he was going to touch her, or touch himself, and she shook her head. “No,” she said simply. “Not until I tell you to.”
His beautiful mouth curled up into a wicked smile. “Of course. I am here to serve.”
She was already wet, her nipples hard and aching. But this was her only night, she wasn’t going to rush through it.
“If I did allow you to touch me,” she continued, pushing the fabric of his shirt aside to run her palm over his bare chest, “what would you do first?”
Her fingers brushed his nipple, and he hissed.
She glanced down, seeing the evidence of his arousal. All of that for her.
“You would be lying down, and I’d yank you to the edge of the bed, your legs dangling down, and then I would slide this nightdress up your legs.”
She raked her nails over his skin, then pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers.
“Continue,” she said, lifting the shirt up and over his head.
She buried her nose in it, inhaling his scent.
“And then,” he said, “I’d lick my way up to your sweet pussy and put my tongue on you and lick you until you screamed.”
“And then?” she asked, her hands at the waistband of his trousers. Her fingers went to work on the buttons as his breathing got unsteady.
“And then I would ask you to touch me. Beg you to touch me. And I’d straddle you and you’d take my cock in your mouth and suck me.”
His voice was strained.
She finished the last of his buttons and dragged his trousers down. His cock thrust out from his smallclothes.
She bent down toward it, putting one hand on it as she brought her mouth there.
He gasped.
She licked the head, sticking out from the fabric of his smallclothes, holding on to the base of his shaft as she played, licking and sucking his cock.
“Oh fuck, Jane,” he groaned, and she looked up and smiled.
“Yes, that is what I want to happen. I want to fuck,” she said, squeezing his cock in her hand.
“Get your nightdress off now,” he ordered, and she suppressed a smile at how fierce and demanding he sounded.
She drew it slowly up her body, his eyes watching every movement.
And then she tossed it over her head, where it landed on the floor, and she was naked.
He removed his boots and then his trousers, joining her on the bed, prowling toward her as though she was his prey.
She did want him to devour her.
“I think you should take over now,” she said, sliding down to lie on the bed.
He smiled that wicked smile again, and he reached for her hand and put it on his hard cock.
“Gladly. And you’re going to do everything I tell you to, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, sliding her hand up and down his shaft. “Yes, and more.”
Yes, and more.
He wanted to ravish her immediately, thrust home into her wet, willing warmth.
But he knew this was their first, last, and only time together, and he wanted to savor it. Savor her.
He ran his hands over her body, relishing her curves, her soft skin, her trembling responsiveness.
He brushed his palm over her nipple, and she gasped, and then he lowered his head and took one stiff peak into his mouth, licking it, while his other hand went to her other nipple, rubbing it gently.
She squirmed underneath his touch, and her hands went there, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her back.
“That is mine to touch right now,” he said. “Not yours.” He licked her nipple again, then lifted his head up to gaze into her eyes. They were darkened with passion, a stormy blue that was the most beautiful color he’d ever seen.
Because it was her, and he loved her.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
She whimpered in response. “Please—just—please,” she said, sounding as achingly wanting as he felt.
“Please what?” he replied. “Please suck my nipples until I come? Please bury my fingers in your sweet pussy preparing you for my cock? Please lick me there until I’m screaming your name?”
She gave a fervent nod. “Yes, please, to all of it. I want everything so I can remember.”
So I can remember.
He couldn’t let himself be distracted by the surge of emotions that welled up inside at her words—later, when this night was over, and he was contemplating the rest of his life, then he could think about it. But not now.
Instead of doing any of the things he’d said, he captured her mouth with his, sliding his tongue in to tangle with hers. She made a soft noise in the back of her throat, sliding her hands down his back to clutch his arse, shifting him so his cock was right up against her clitoris. He rocked against her, and she gripped him harder.
It took an immense amount of willpower to break the kiss, but he had other things he had promised to do.
He slid down her body, blowing air on her, watching as her body shifted, searching for release.
And then he pushed her legs apart, burying his face in her, licking the bud of her clitoris as his fingers played with her nipples.
“God, Thomas, please,” she said.
He chuckled, moving one hand down to where his mouth was, placing his finger right at her entrance. He kept licking her, slow, long licks that made her tremble as his finger began to slide in. She had thrust her fingers in his hair and was gripping it tightly, not so much to make it hurt, but enough to make him feel it.
He stroked her, then added another finger. Her hold in his hair was tighter, and she’d begun to move against his mouth, making him match her rhythm.
And then he felt her start to shake, her hands stilled, a low cry beginning in her throat. She arched off the bed, her inner muscles gripping his fingers, her whole body now shaking as she climaxed. She uttered an inarticulate noise that ended in a scream, and he kept up his rhythm until she settled down, making soft pleased noises.
He looked up at her, and he had never seen anything so beautiful—her eyes heavy and sated, her lips red and swollen from where he’d kissed her and where she’d likely bitten, her cheeks flushed.
Her body naked.
“Oh my,” she said, giving him a satisfied smile.
“Oh my,” he echoed, smiling back at her.
“That’s not all I want,” she said, after a long pause of just looking at one another.
“So demanding,” he said.
“I am,” she replied. “I demand that you show me everything. That you—” And she waved her hands in the air in a vague gesture.
“That I fuck you, Jane?”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she bit her lip. “Yes. I want you to fuck me.”
He pulled himself back up so he could kiss her, devouring her mouth, mimicking the action he’d soon be doing with his cock.
She had hold of him again, and was rubbing him up and down. He drew back, meeting her gaze. “Show me where you want me,” he said. His voice was rough.
She nodded, then guided him to her entrance. He clasped his hand over hers and began to slide in, going slowly as she grimaced.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “I want all of you.”
I want all of you.
That was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him—usually they wanted only part of him, the handsome, charming part. Not the part that was loyal to his family, not the part that got weary of always being the perfect gentleman, adept at any social situation.
He’d shown himself to her. Revealed himself as their relationship grew into so much more than either one of them could have expected.
I want all of you.
And she wanted him.
He nodded, then thrust in further, going slowly until he was fully seated, his body pressed against hers.
She wrapped her legs around him, making her tilt up to him, making him go even deeper.
She gave a hesitant smile. “And now what?”
“And now,” he replied, sliding his hand underneath her body to hold on to her arse, “I fuck you.”