So much for his claim that he needed to work, Griffin acknowledged several hours later as he sat sprawled in the chair behind the desk in the library, a single lit candle on his desktop and the glow of the fire in the hearth to alleviate the darkness of the room behind him.
He had removed his jacket and cravat from earlier, several buttons of his shirt he’d also unfastened for added comfort, his thoughts ranging far and wide, before inevitably coming back to the exact same subject.
Bea.
His fingers clenched on the arms of his chair as he once again pictured her as she had looked in her bedchamber earlier: her hair slightly dishevelled, her cheeks flushed from the tears she had cried, her eyes dark with hurt, the swell of her breasts softly rising and falling as she breathed, her arms long and slender, hands and fingers delicately elegant. Hands he ached to have touch and stroke him.
She was desire incarnate!
A desire that was slowly but surely eating into Griffin’s very soul, and driving him out of his mind.
‘Griffin?’
Griffin turned so quickly in his chair at the unexpected sound of Bea’s huskily soft voice, when he had been thinking of her so intensely, that he was in danger of falling out of it!
He almost did as he took in her appearance. She was framed in the doorway; her hair loose and silky about her shoulders, and she was wearing only her nightrail, with a thin silk robe over it and a matching belt fastened about the slenderness of her waist.
Griffin stood up, as was his custom when a lady entered the room, his brow lowering into a glower as he felt his body react instantly to Bea’s appearance, and even more intensely than the uncomfortable and throbbing ache at dinner.
‘What on earth are you still doing awake at this time of night?’ His voice was husky as he tried to temper his tone, recalling how he had upset her when he had spoken to her harshly earlier.
She stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her before moving further into the shadowed library, the corners of the room completely dark. Only Griffin, his hair tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it several times in the past few hours, stood out in stark relief against that darkness. The unfastened shirt at his throat revealed a hint of dark hair covering his muscled chest.
Her chin rose determinedly before she lost her nerve and turned on her heel and fled. ‘Has Pelham retired for the night?’
Griffin continued to glower. ‘I believe so, yes.’
She nodded. ‘I waited upstairs in my bedchamber after my bath until I believed he might have done,’ she informed him softly.
His eyes narrowed warily. ‘Why?’
Now that she was here, face to face with this physically mesmerising man, Bea was starting to wonder that herself!
It had all seemed so simple up in her bedchamber earlier. She would take a leisurely bath, wait for the household to go to bed before then going downstairs to seek out Griffin, with the intention of tempting him into kissing her again. With the intention of showing him she most certainly was not a mouse. Here and now, faced with the sheer masculinity of the man, she felt decidedly less confident.
What did she possibly have to offer a man of such sophistication and self-confidence as him? A man, a duke, who only had to snap his elegant fingers to have any woman he chose?
In her present loss of memory, homeless, friendless state, absolutely nothing.
Her nerve completely failed her. ‘I have been afraid to fall asleep these past few nights because of the nightmares that occur when I do.’ She drew in a deep and ragged breath.
Of course, Griffin acknowledged with a wince, he’d noticed these past few days, during their hours spent together in the library, that she occasionally dozed in her chair beside the fire. As if, he now realised, she had not slept at night.
‘Would you like me to sit with you again until you have fallen asleep?’ he suggested gruffly.
At the same time as he wondered if he was capable of being alone again with Bea in her bedchamber without making love with her. Or, more likely, once again suffering the tortures of hell as he tried to resist the urge to do so!
Her hair moved silkily against the soft swell of her breasts as she shook her head. ‘I want—’ She drew in a deep breath and began again. ‘I should very much like it if you were to hold me in your arms again.’
He was doomed. His fate writ high in the heavens, as the man who had absolutely no defences when it came to the innocence of the very woman he was supposed to be protecting.
He cleared his throat before speaking. ‘That would not be a good idea, Bea.’
She eyed him curiously. ‘Why not?’
Griffin clenched his hands together behind his back. ‘Please just accept that it would not.’
Bea studied him from beneath lowered dark lashes, easily noting the slightly fevered glitter in his eyes, and the flush high on those sharply etched cheekbones. There was a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw, and the width of his chest rapidly rose and fell as he breathed. ‘I should like it very much if you did,’ she insisted softly.
He eyed her impatiently. ‘What are you doing?’ he barked even as his hands came quickly from behind his back as she hurtled across the room and into his arms.
Her arms were about his waist as she burrowed into the comforting hardness of his chest. ‘I feel so safe when you hold me in your arms, Griffin.’
Safe? Griffin echoed the word incredulously.
Bea felt safe when he held her?
It was the very last thing she was when his body reacted so viscerally to the feel of the warm softness of her body nestled so closely against it. He was a man of flesh and blood, not a blasted saint!
As the swell of his arousal testified.
Bea sighed her contentment. ‘This is so very nice.’
His gaze sharpened with suspicion as she looked up at him. Was that a glint of mischief he could see in her eyes? A curve of womanly satisfaction to the fullness of her lips?
It was, damn it!
He pulled back slightly so that he could see her face more clearly; yes, he could definitely see challenge now in the darkness of her gaze, and her creamy cheeks were flushed. ‘Bea, are you playing a game with me?’
‘A game?’
Griffin wasn’t fooled for a moment by her too-innocent expression. ‘A dangerous game.’ He nodded grimly.
‘Dangerous?’ she echoed softly, her fingertips playing lightly across his chest.
‘Very dangerous,’ he assured her firmly as his hands moved to grasp the tops of her arms to hold her firmly away from him. ‘I advise that you leave here now, Bea, or suffer the consequences,’ he warned.
Heat and caution waged war within Bea. The heat of the desire she felt for Griffin, to be closer to him. And the caution of realising that the man who now stood before her was not that same easy companion of the past few days. Or the gentleman who had pledged to protect her until her true protector could be found.
This Griffin was not a gentleman at all, but was instead pure, predatory male. A man who was rakishly handsome and wholly sensual, his gaze now feasting hungrily on the firm swell of her breasts visible above her nightrail and robe.
Perhaps she did have something to offer him, after all?
Bea moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before she spoke slowly. ‘I believe I will choose the consequences.’
‘Then you are a reckless fool!’ Griffin grated even as he pulled her into his arms and his mouth laid siege to hers.
Bea groaned her satisfaction as she gave herself up to the savagery of his kiss, eagerly standing on tiptoe as she moulded her body against his much harder one.
Her hands moved up his chest, feeling the soft hair visible there, lingering for several seconds, caressing that silkiness, as he moaned softly. She then slid her hands over the muscled width of his shoulders, her fingers becoming entangled in the darkness of the hair at his nape as the heat between them intensified and grew.
Bea whimpered low in her throat as Griffin now widened her stance to grind the hardness of his arousal into the inviting softness between her thighs, drawing her breath in sharply through her nose as he touched a part of her that caused the heated pleasure to course wildly through her veins.
She was lost in a maelstrom of emotions as his mouth continued to devour hers, even as his large hands restlessly caressed the length of her spine before settling on her bottom as he pulled Bea in even closer. The rhythmic stroking of his arousal now sent heated pleasure through the whole of her body; her nipples were full and aching, and between her thighs was swollen and warm.
Reckless fool or not, Bea didn’t want Griffin to stop. She wanted this pleasure to go on and on. To lose herself utterly, in both Griffin’s arms and his unmistakeable passion.
Griffin wanted all Bea had to give. His hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts and the soft pad of his thumbs caressed the swollen and sensitive tips. Bea’s passion, Bea’s pleasure, every inch of Bea’s body.
Her kisses revealed the first, her groans, as he caressed her breasts showed the second, and the third—
Griffin pulled back abruptly to draw ragged breath into his starved lungs as he looked down at her with heated eyes. ‘You should go back to your bedchamber, Bea. Now!’
Her hair was tousled, her eyes heavy with passion, cheeks flushed and feverish, her lips swollen from their kisses. ‘I would rather stay here, with you.’
‘It will very shortly be too late for me to stop, Bea.’
She looked up at him searchingly. ‘Do you want to stop?’
What he wanted was this woman’s body spread naked before him, so that he could kiss and taste every inch of her, from her head to her toes!
He clenched his jaw. ‘No, I do not want to stop.’
‘Then neither do I,’ she assured him gently, her gaze continuing to hold his as her fingers moved purposefully to unfasten the two remaining buttons of his shirt.
His breath caught in his throat as she pulled his shirt free of his pantaloons before sliding it slowly up his chest. ‘You really are playing with fire, Bea,’ he gave her one last, growled warning.
She smiled up at him impishly. ‘Then at least I shall be kept warm!’ She pulled his shirt up, removing it completely. Her eyes were hot and devouring as she gazed at the muscled bareness of his chest before tentatively touching. ‘You truly are magnificent, Griffin!’ she breathed wonderingly as she smoothed her hands across his chest and over his nipples.
Her words, and her touch, caused Griffin’s desire for her to rage out of control.
He had no memory of when a woman had last desired him for himself, and not because of his title or because she was being paid to want him. A sad state of affairs, indeed, but he had felt too raw after Felicity—
No!
He would not think of Felicity now.
Why should he think of her when there had been such an impenetrable coldness to his wife? A coolness he already knew Bea did not share.
Bea was warm—so very warm. She was responsive. Even now the hard berries of her nipples throbbed heatedly against the soft pads of his thumbs. And the scent of her arousal teased and tempted his senses, a mixture of honey and earthy, desirable woman.
Perhaps he should spare a thought for the man Michael, the man she had called for in her sleep.
Griffin saw no reason why he should consider him when Bea seemed bound and determined not to!
‘Are you sure this is what you really want?’ Griffin knew he was the one who had to be sure; he had to know that Bea wanted him as much as he desired to make love to her.
‘Very sure,’ she answered without hesitation.
He gave her one last searching glance, seeing only sincerity in her expression, before taking her hand and drawing her over to the warmth of the fireplace. He came to a halt and turned to face her, his gaze deliberately holding hers as he unfastened the robe at her waist before slipping it from her shoulders and allowing it to drop onto the rug on which they both stood.
She wore only her nightrail now, a diaphanous garment easily penetrated by the flickering firelight, and revealing every dip and curve of Bea’s body as Griffin gazed down at her hungrily. Her breasts were full and tipped by ruby red and swollen berries, her waist slender above the womanly flare of her hips. Dark curls nestled temptingly between her thighs, and her legs were smooth and shapely above slender bare feet.
Bea sensed that Griffin hesitated still, not because he did not want her—the evidence of that was all too apparent in the tenting of his pantaloons—but because he was, after all, a gentleman, even in his desire for her.
How lucky his wife had been to have such a considerate husband. To have such a wonderful man in love with her. To be so privileged as to possess the care and devotion of such a man.
The desire Griffin now felt for her might only be a shadow of the emotions he had once felt for his dead wife, but surely it was enough?
Bea would make it be enough!
She continued to look into his eyes rather than down at her own body as her hands moved down to take hold of her nightgown. She slowly drew the material up to reveal her calves, then her thighs. The blush deepened in her cheeks as she raised the garment to her waist and saw Griffin’s eyes darken, his heated gaze fixed on the V of silky ebony curls between her thighs.
‘Higher,’ he encouraged tightly.
Bea’s hands trembled as she slowly pulled her nightrail up over her waist and breasts, her legs starting to shake as she heard his harshly indrawn breath as she removed the garment completely, dropping it down beside her robe as she stood naked before him.
‘How beautiful you are,’ he murmured as he sank to his knees in front of her, his large hands cupping both her breasts as he drank in his fill before slowly leaning forward to suckle one of her aching and engorged nipples into the moist heat of his mouth.
Bea reached out to grasp his bared shoulders as sharp pleasure engulfed her. She was afraid her legs would no longer support her if she didn’t. His chest was bathed in firelight, warm and dry beneath her fingers, and she could feel the play of muscles beneath his skin as Griffin caressed her.
Bea had never dreamt that such pleasure existed as that created by the complete intimacy of having Griffin on his knees before her, his bared flesh beneath her caressing fingertips, her aching nipple in his mouth.
The pleasure intensified as he now drew hungrily on her swollen berry, the fingers and thumb of his other hand stroking and squeezing its twin, and sending waves of heated pleasure coursing through Bea’s body straight down to between her thighs.
Soft moans began to penetrate the silence of the room, and Bea realised they were her own as one of her hands moved to clasp the back of Griffin’s head, her fingers becoming entangled in the dark thickness of his hair as she held him to her, never ever wanting this pleasure to stop.
Wanting more.
But having no idea what more there was.
Griffin looked up at Bea as he felt her restlessness; her eyes were closed, long lashes resting on flushed cheeks, her lips parted slightly as she breathed raggedly, her throat arched in pleasure as she thrust her breasts forward.
He lightly caressed her waist as he slowly released her nipple from his mouth.
‘Griffin!’ She looked down at him, need shining brightly in the feverish glow of eyes.
He took a few seconds to enjoy the sight of her engorged nipple, so moist and red and swollen from his suckling, before his gaze moved lower, his hands now resting on her hips as he held her in place before him and gently nudged her legs apart with his knees.
She was so aroused. For him. Because of him. Because of her desire for him.
‘Griffin?’ Bea’s voice quivered her uncertainty as she watched his long fingers gently part the ebony curls between her thighs before he once again lowered his head towards her.
He glanced up at her, so close now the warmth of his breath brushed softly against a part of her that felt swollen and aching. ‘Do you trust me, Bea?’ he prompted huskily.
‘Of course I trust you.’ If she did not trust Griffin, then she could never, would never, trust anyone again.
‘Then trust me now.’ He blew delicately against that swollen ache between her thighs, causing her to shudder and tremble with the pleasure of that caress. ‘Do you like that?’
‘Yes,’ she groaned weakly, fingers now digging painfully into his muscled shoulders. Although Griffin seemed unaware of any pain.
‘And this?’ He slowly lathed the rough length of his tongue against her swollen flesh.
‘Yes!’ Bea’s cheeks suffused with embarrassed colour at the intimacy even as she rose up on tiptoe as the force of that pleasurable caress ripped through the whole of her body.
He moved back slightly before taking her hand and tugging lightly until she sat down on the rug beside him. ‘I will not hurt you, Bea,’ he assured her gruffly. ‘I will never do anything to hurt you or endanger you.’ He cupped her face in his hands before his lips gently claimed hers.
Bea was so befuddled by the end of that long and satisfying kiss that she offered no further hesitation as Griffin pushed her gently down onto the rug before parting her legs and settling the width of his shoulders between them.
She groaned low in her throat at the first touch of his tongue against that swollen ache between her thighs. Her hands fell limply to her sides, eyes closing as she became lost in the pleasure of that moist and rhythmic caress. A pressure began to build inside her that she did not understand. Did not need to understand. She needed only to feel, as Griffin’s hands cupped the cheeks of her bottom to tilt her up to him, like a sacrifice on an altar.
‘Griffin!’ She gasped as the pressure built and built. Until it grew so high, so intense, she felt as if her whole body might explode from the joy of it.
Until she did explode, deep inside her, the intense pleasure radiating outwards as well as inwards until she lay weak and gasping.
‘Wh—what was that?’ she gasped weakly.
Griffin moved to lie beside her as he slowly licked her juices from his lips. ‘The French call it le petit mort—the little death,’ he translated huskily.
Bea certainly felt as if she had died and gone to heaven and she was sure that she had never experienced pleasure like it.
‘The English refer to it as a climax, or an orgasm.’ Griffin smoothed the hair back from the dampness of her brow.
‘I— Does that—does that always happen to a woman when—when a man and woman are t-together?’ she prompted shyly.
‘Only if the man cares enough to ensure her pleasure, which sadly too many rarely do.’ His jaw tightened. ‘And if the woman allows herself to become excited or stimulated.’
Bea gazed up at him searchingly, detecting a bitterness beneath his tone and the sudden bleakness of his expression. She was too satiated, too lethargic to care at that moment as she lay unabashedly naked beside him. Modesty seemed a little silly when Griffin had not only looked at her most intimate of places, but had also licked and tasted her there.
All bitterness fled as he smiled down at her, his gaze warm. ‘You are a singular woman, Bea. Very passionate and giving.’
She smiled. ‘I believe you are the one who is remarkable, for having ignited that passion. I— Does a man experience that same climax?’
Griffin drew in a sharp breath, unsure of how to answer her. It was obvious Bea was an innocent, that her own responses just now had surprised her, her orgasm was a shock to her. How much more shocked would she be if she were to see him achieve his climax?
‘Griffin?’
He closed his eyes briefly before looking at her. ‘I do not know how to answer you, Bea,’ he admitted honestly.
‘With the truth?’
Griffin’s lids lowered. ‘My own arousal is more physically visible than your own.’
‘The swelling in your pantaloons?’
‘The swelling in my pantaloons,’ he confirmed uncomfortably.
She sat up slightly. ‘Would you—? Can I see it?’
He swallowed as he saw how pretty her breasts looked as she sat forward, so firm and uptilting, her nipples still swollen and rouged from his earlier ministrations.
He gave a shake of his head. ‘That would not be a good idea.’ Felicity had visibly paled the first time she had seen him naked. Despite all his efforts to arouse her, to ease his passage, she had screamed the first time he had penetrated her, until he had retreated again when her sobs had become too much for him to bear. The second time had been no better, nor the third, thus setting a pattern for their physical intimacy that had never changed.
Not that he intended to penetrate Bea. She was an unmarried lady, an innocent still, whether she believed it or not, and once inside her Griffin knew he would be unable to stop himself from spilling his seed.
No, far better that he should send Bea back to her bed before he returned to his own chamber, where he could douse himself in cold water! ‘I believe you might sleep now if you were to return to your bedchamber.’
Bea was sure that she would, her body having an unaccustomed lethargy, a feeling of fullness and satiation, and no doubt resulting from her orgasm.
But she did not feel like falling asleep. She did not want their time together to be over just yet, and there was still that intriguing bulge in Griffin’s pantaloons to explore.
‘May I please see?’ She looked at him encouragingly.
His jaw tightened as he obviously waged his own inner battle. Quite what that battle was, Bea had no idea, but she knew that there was one from the stormy grey of his eyes and the clenching of his jaw.
‘You really are a witch!’ He groaned his defeat and began to unfasten his pantaloons. ‘The moment you are frightened you will tell me to stop.’
‘Frightened?’ Bea looked at him incredulously as she watched that unfastening in fascination. ‘Why would I be frightened?’
‘You are a genteel lady and I am...overlarge, in that area,’ he acknowledged reluctantly as he unfastened the tie of his drawers.
‘But that is surely because you are altogether an overlarge man?’
‘Yes,’ he bit out grimly. ‘But some ladies find me unpleasantly so. Especially here.’ He folded back his drawers as he spoke the last word, allowing his arousal to spring free of all restraint as he lay back on the rug and stared up at the shadowed ceiling.
Almost as if he could not physically bear to watch her reaction, Bea realised.
She sat up completely, her fascinated gaze fixed on his member; surrounded by dark curls at its base, it was indeed an impressive size, but Bea saw no reason at all for fear. She looked up at Griffin’s face, frowning as she saw how pale and strained he looked. ‘Does it hurt to be so swollen?’
‘No.’ His voice sounded strange, strangulated.
‘Then may I touch it?’
‘Bea...’ He broke off his angry outburst as she flinched back, his eyes glittering darkly. ‘If you touch me I am afraid I shall—I shall be unable to maintain control myself!’ he bit out forcefully.
‘You will climax?’
‘Without a doubt I shall, yes!’
Bea gave a confused shake of her head. ‘Why should you not, when I have already done so?’ Her cheeks felt warm.
Griffin drew in a deep and controlling breath. ‘You asked to see and I have shown you. Are you not fearful? Overwhelmed by my size?’
‘If I am overwhelmed then it is at your magnificence,’ she assured him softly. ‘And, no, I am not in the least frightened. Why should I be when this is a part of you?’ She touched him gently with her fingertips, incredulous at how soft his skin felt when he was obviously so fiercely hard.
He was steel encased in warm velvet, her touches becoming bolder still as Griffin made no further objection to her explorations, although the grinding of his teeth spoke of his inner fight to remain in control as her hand cupped him.
He drew his breath in sharply as Bea’s other hand then moved to close about him, and, recalling how Griffin had made love to her, she began to lower her head with the intention of feeling him with her mouth, her tongue.
‘No, Bea!’ Griffin groaned weakly in protest even as his body burned for more of her touch.
‘Will it hurt you if I do?’
‘No. But— Saints protect me!’ He groaned as her tongue tentatively licked his length.
Griffin groaned his pleasure as she licked and tasted, causing Bea’s fingers to tighten as she began to stroke until he began to thrust up into her encircling fingers. She reacted instinctively as she widened her lips and took him into the heat of her mouth.
‘You are killing me, Bea!’ Griffin gasped weakly, hands reaching out to grasp her shoulders.
Bea did not believe that for a moment, knew from the throb and heat of him in her hands, and the fact that he was holding her closer rather than pushing her away, that Griffin would shortly experience that same intense pleasure as she had just minutes ago.
The petit mort.
The little death of pleasure.
And she wanted to give this to him. Wanted to share this with him.
She had no idea why any other ladies should ever have been frightened of him. Why he should have been so reluctant to let her see and touch him, when his body was so truly magnificent. Nor did she care. At this moment, here and now, there was only herself and Griffin.
Heat engulfed her own body for a second time at the sounds of Griffin’s groans of pleasure.
‘Stop now, Bea! For goodness’ sake, you have to stop...’ Griffin’s protest turned to a loud and aching groan as his own pleasure overtook his control, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulders as he continued to gasp his pleasure.
The arousal of Bea’s own body rose with each hot and pulsing jet of Griffin’s release, heat engulfing her as she climaxed for a second time, adding her own groans of completion to Griffin’s.