“Yes.”
Olivia hadn’t thought to say it. Not at first. In the moment after Gareth spoke, she thought that’s a dreadfully demanding way to make a request and it’s the middle of the night and are you absolutely sure you should be doing this? She didn’t wonder whether she should be accepting his advances. She knew she shouldn’t.
But she was standing very close to him in order to whisper through the crack in the door. Close enough to feel the heat from his body and to be aware of how little they were each wearing. Close enough to pick up the sharp scent of his cologne and a faint musk that was more personal.
In other words, too close for either propriety or good sense.
When she opened her mouth, Olivia said none of the things she’d been thinking. “Yes” hovered in the air between them, faint as moth wings, and then she was moving to the side, letting Gareth into her room.
He closed the door behind him, gently. Discreetly. It made a quiet little click, and then he was reaching for her, a darker shape in the night.
Olivia went to him. There was no conscious thought in it. She simply moved as iron to a magnet, until her body was flush against his and her arms were around his neck and he was kissing her, the taste of wine faint on his lips.
Whatever there had been a moment ago, little gentleness remained in him now. Gareth wound one hand in her hair while he kissed her, and his other cupped her backside, holding her all the more firmly to him. His arousal would have been quite obvious even through proper clothing. With only their nightclothes in the way, it felt like heated stone.
The responding hunger in Olivia’s body was instant…and insistent. Had she been tired? Had she been asleep, in fact, five minutes ago? Nothing from her neck to her knees remembered as much, and whatever feeble opinions her brain might have ventured on the subject were quickly outvoted.
Her room was comfortable enough but by no means large. A few half-stumbling steps backward brought Olivia to the edge of her bed. She pulled Gareth down with her, hands on his shoulders. No hard task. Her intent was certainly clear enough, and he was quite willing to comply. His body settled on top of hers, a delicious weight that made her arch upward and whimper.
It was too late, in many senses of the word, for self-control.
***
Gareth had abandoned quite a bit of his reserve the second after he’d knocked at Olivia’s door. Most of the rest had gone when he’d spoken. His request was not the sort to leave Olivia in any doubt of his intentions. And that he’d made it at so uncivilized an hour, without any provocation, was an admission in itself.
Therefore, when he finally had her in his arms, he wasted no time in moving them both toward the bed, and when Olivia drew him down to meet her, he didn’t bother teasing or questioning. She was soft and warm, there were no corsets or buttons to deal with this time, and his mind was drowning in sensation. In desire. When she arched her back to press against him, and when she made a throaty little sound of arousal in his ear, Gareth didn’t even think about holding back. Rather, he groaned her name, retaining just enough control to be quiet about it, lest the damn servants or the blasted students overhear, and thrust against her, achingly hard.
Gareth wanted to take her then. He wanted to shove her nightgown up and plunge inside her, to grab her hips and lose himself in her body. Ungentlemanly as that would have been, he didn’t think Olivia would have minded, not given the way she was writhing beneath him or how damp the fabric between her legs was getting.
But he wanted more.
Biting his lip, Gareth pulled himself back from the edge and rose from Olivia’s body, then rolled to the side. She made a slight noise of protest, but then he slid his hands down, pushing her dressing gown off her shoulders. She laughed quietly, shrugging herself the rest of the way out as Gareth shed his own clothes. “You’re lucky I hadn’t tied the belt,” she said.
“I’d have needed a candle.”
“There is one,” Olivia said thoughtfully and then caught her breath as Gareth reached for her again, finding the hem of her nightgown and sliding his hands underneath. Her thighs were firm and smooth against his fingers, the muscles tense with excitement. Her voice came again, faint now. “If you want.”
Tempting thought. Gareth remembered the view he’d had of her breasts bouncing in a steady rhythm as she’d ridden him on the chair. He thought of how many times he’d imagined her naked and spread out before him, flushed with desire.
But finding a candle would have meant he had to stop touching her.
“No,” he said, and then, “Not now.”
“Ah.”
In the darkness, she moved, though not enough to displace his hands, which were heading steadily upward, tracing over her inner thighs. The fabric over them slid up then disappeared.
Helpful woman. Surely she deserved a reward.
Olivia whimpered again when Gareth brushed his fingers over her sex. When he slid one inside her, she buried her face in her pillow to avoid making louder sounds. Gareth wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her toward him, a difficult task to accomplish while still moving his hand between her legs, but one that proved very worthwhile.
The feeling of her naked body against his was overwhelming. Somewhere, there were disparate sensations: her breath hot on his shoulder, the small, hard points of her nipples pressing against his chest, the warm satin feel of her stomach against his cock. But it all blended together, became white heat and electricity.
If there was a man who could hold off under such temptation, it wasn’t Gareth.
Another quick motion brought Olivia beneath him. At the pressure of his body, her thighs opened readily, and then…Ah, then he was inside her, and she was lifting her hips to welcome him farther, her legs wrapping around his waist. Gareth bent his head and kissed her then, muffling the sounds they made at that first moment of connection.
They moved together in the darkness. Gareth became thankful for it, much as he would have liked to watch Olivia. In the absence of sight, his other senses intensified. His world was full of the scent of her arousal, of her rapid breathing and half-caught moans, of the sharp points of her nails digging into his back, bracing counterpoint to the slick heat surrounding him. Of the tension in her frame, building with every thrust…
…and then breaking, in a climax Gareth could swear he felt in every inch of her trembling body. She didn’t scream this time. The sound that left her mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a sob, ragged and thankful at the same time.
He heard his name inside it.
The sound went through Gareth like the feel of her had done earlier, a bolt of sensation that took him far past any attempt at self-control. He plunged forward in one final stroke, throwing his head back and spilling himself in a rush that left him gasping and dazed.
Still in the grip of instinct rather than thought, Gareth somehow had the presence of mind to roll onto his side afterward rather than letting Olivia take his weight. It took him a few minutes to realize he’d wrapped his arms around her, rested his chin on top of her head, and brought her with him. Even with recent events, he was a little surprised Olivia didn’t protest. She’d been quick enough to disengage herself last time. No servants or students to come across them here, though. Maybe that was it. Also, she was probably tired.
Gareth certainly was. He could feel his thoughts fragmenting, drifting down into darkness that smelled of perfume and sex. Olivia was warm in his arms, her breasts moving more regularly now as she caught her breath. Absently, he stroked her hair, curled a strand around his finger…and let go of both the hair and her, pushing himself away abruptly.
“I should go,” he said, speaking and standing while he still had some strength of will left. He felt around for his dressing gown and fumbled it on. “Bad for both of us if I fall asleep here, I’d think.”
“Mmmhuh?” The sleepy confusion in her voice almost brought Gareth back to her side, and damn what anyone else thought. Olivia shook it off quickly, and the next words she said were brisk and matter-of-fact. “Yes, rather. Good of you to realize it.”
“Er…yes.” There must be, he thought, something more to say at this point. He wished he’d ever gotten around to having a proper mistress. Such liaisons as he’d experienced had always been decisive in their conclusion, and without much in the way of parting speeches. “Thank you. Good night.”
“Good night,” she said and drew her blanket up. “Sleep well.”
There was nothing else to say, nothing that would not have seemed even more ludicrous. Gareth opened the door and left.