“Damnation,” he hissed, throbbing and growing in girth within her. “How could I ever think you were cold?”
Intrigued by his possible meaning, she stilled just shy of engulfing the root of him.
A muscle in his jaw ticked violently. “Your cunt is burning hot and greedy. It sucks at my cock. The sensation is incredible.”
She smiled and lowered, taking him completely inside her. She knew in that moment that she had his attention. He would desire her while she was gone, and that impatience would serve her well. Pleased, Maria leaned over him, pausing with her mouth hovering just above his. “May I kiss you?” she asked.
His head lifted, his mouth taking hers, his tongue plunging deep and then thrusting rhythmically, licking, stroking. Making her shiver.
“Yes,” he whispered darkly, breathing hard, his hands cupping her spine. “Do everything to me.”
She rose for leverage and gasped at the feel of his mouth latching onto her nipple. As he began to suck, her eyes slid closed. She grew wetter, more aroused, the weight of her torso balanced on the hands she had rested next to his shoulders. He drew on her with long, deep pulls that were echoed in the tremors her body made around his cock. He flexed inside her and she moaned a low, plaintive sound.
“This is how we will start the day.” Christopher’s raspy voice was a tactile caress across her fevered skin. “Don’t move. I will suck you to orgasm, and your cunt will do the same for me.”
If she could have spoken, she would have told him that was impossible, but then he would have proven her wrong. His mouth was enchanted, tugging firmly in a timed rhythm, his tongue stroking back and forth across the underside of her nipple. First one, and then the other. His large hands with their tantalizing calluses soothed her as she became more agitated, her body writhing over his in its quest for orgasm.
When she climaxed, he followed her, her cunt grasping at his cock, luring his seed, spasming as he flooded her with a guttural cry. Maria was held taut, suspended, caught in a grip of brutally fierce pleasure.
He caught her close, engulfing her in warm arms, his lips pressed tightly to her forehead. He fell asleep that way.
But even in slumber, he did not let her go.
Maria entered her rooms with a sigh of relief. She had not been seen by anyone, a miracle made possible by pressing herself into recessed doorways to avoid detection by industrious maids.
In another part of the manse, Christopher slept on. He had frowned when she pulled away from him, but he did not wake.
Shutting the gallery door, Maria moved through the sitting room toward her bedchamber and stopped midstep, startled by the large form that filled the doorway.
“Mhuirnín.”
Simon leaned against the doorjamb, his body fully clothed and beautifully attired in rose-colored breeches with matching coat. One heeled foot crossed over the other, but the artless pose was unable to hide the tension of his frame.
“You gave me a fright,” she admonished, her hand pressed over her racing heart.
His gaze started at the top of her head and dropped all the way to her bare feet. She was drowning in Christopher’s robe, so there was not much of her to see, but she knew the night’s lascivious activities could not be disguised.
“You slept with him,” he noted. Straightening, Simon came to her with his leisurely, seductive stride and cupped her face in his hands. “I do not trust him. Because of that, I do not trust you with him.”
“Do not think about it.”
“Easier said than done. Women often find their feelings tangled with sex. That concerns me.”
“Aside from you, I have never had that problem.”
His mouth twitched. “I’m flattered.”
“No,” she said wryly, “you’re arrogant.”
“That, too.” His half smile widened into a grin.
Maria shook her head, yawning. “I need sleep. After I bathe, we will be departing. I think I will nap in the carriage.”
“Dover. Sarah informed me.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her forehead. “She has nearly finished packing. My trunks are already on the coach in the drive.”
“I will not take long.” The scent of Christopher clung to her skin and made her stomach quiver. He had killed for her, then made passionate love to her, and then held her with such tenderness…The multiple sides to him took her by surprise, rocking the very foundations of the image of the pirate she had once entertained.
Simon stepped back and then moved to the sideboard to pour a glass of water. “I urge you to haste, mhuirnín. We do not want any unpleasant scenes.”
Maria hurried to the bedroom door, then paused on the threshold. “Simon?”
He looked at her with brows raised in silent query.
“Do I tell you often enough how much I appreciate you?”
“You love me,” he replied with a wicked grin. “There is no need to say it, I know you do.” He tossed back his drink and poured another. “But feel free to tell me as often as you like. My ego can bear it.”
Laughing, Maria shut the door.
Chapter 6
“You knew she would be departing this morn,” Thompson said, his face impassive.
“Yes, yes.” Christopher sat on a wooden chair, his body canted to allow his arm to drape along the top. He was bereft of waistcoat and coat, and yet he was still overly warm. His body longed to be in motion, to chase after the woman who left him without so much as a fare-thee-well, and the effort he exerted to remain seated was not insignificant.
His valet moved with quiet purpose, preparing the items needed to shave his master’s morning whiskers. “The knowledge of the men you set to follow her coach does not alleviate your concern?”
Christopher snorted. Concern. Was that what this feeling was? Why did he feel it, when he knew Maria was capable of caring for herself?
Perhaps it was because Quinn was with her.
His teeth clenched.
Quinn.
“Angelica, love.” His voice was low and direct, his head turning to find her finishing her morning tea by the window. “You learned nothing?”
She shook her head, her mouth curved downward. “I did try, but he has a way with…distractions.”
He arched a brow. “How much did you tell him?” He knew little of Quinn, but he recognized the man as one who lived by his wits.
The blush that spread across her cheekbones made Christopher curse under his breath. “Not so much,” she said hastily. “He was mostly curious as to your interest in Lady Winter.”
“And how did you answer?”
“I said you kept your business to yourself, but if you had your eye on her, you would have her.” She blew out her breath and leaned backward, the dark circles under her eyes betraying a night spent much like his.
The memory of Maria, soft and open to his desire, made his blood heat. Scratches marred his back and arms, teeth marks decorated the tops of his shoulders. He had shared his bed with a delectable hellion and he was marked by the encounter. In more ways than one.
“Quinn’s reply?” he asked softly.
Angelica winced. “He said possession is nine points of the law.”
Christopher showed no outward sign of the effect of that statement, but it prodded him with the same intensity as a blow from a horsewhip. Quinn was correct. It was he who shared Maria’s home, her life, her confidence, and Christopher had nothing of her but a few hours of pleasure.
“Go pack,” he said, watching as the former light o’ love rose and did as he bid.
“Will you seek her out?” Thompson asked, straightening from his task and stepping back so that Christopher could take his seat in the appropriate chair.
“No. The men I assigned to watch her will handle the matter. What I need to learn of her will be found in London, and the sooner I return, the swifter that is accomplished.”