Regency Society Collection Part 1. Sarah Mallory

it is rather pleasant to see you so overwrought for my sake.’

      ‘But he is a villain, Tony, and he knows about you. What are we to do? I—’

      His lips came down on hers, stopping her words. The kiss was forceful, almost brutal in its intensity, and he held her tight against him, so that she could feel his body responding to her. She could feel his hands on her back, dealing, one by one, with the hooks of her dress. Then he pushed away from her, placing his hands on her shoulders, holding her tight in place. ‘You shall do nothing tonight. Not with Barton, at any rate.’ He trailed his fingers forward, along the gaping neckline of her dress.

      ‘Stop it,’ she muttered. ‘We mustn’t. There isn’t time. He will come for me tonight. And if he finds you here…’

      ‘I said—’ he pushed at the fabric, and the dress slipped off her shoulders ‘—I would take care—’ he reached behind her to undo her stays ‘—of everything. But if you are sure you want me to run away, then you need merely say the word, and I shall go.’

      ‘He said—’

      ‘Never mind Barton, for a moment. What is it that you want, your Grace?’ He was trailing his fingers over the bare skin of her back and she shuddered with the shock of it.

      And then his hands slipped beneath her chemise, stroking her sides, grazing her breasts. ‘All things being equal, do you wish me to stay?’

      She closed her eyes and tried not to think of what his touch was doing to her, and spoke. ‘Of course I do not want you to go. But—’

      ‘Stop right there.’ He laid a finger on her lips. ‘Do not spoil it with more talking. You have said enough. Now let me help.’

      Oh, dear. She stayed very still as he worked the rest of the laces free.

      It was not as if she objected. But it all would have been easier a night ago, when she was not so frightened. Tonight, passion was the last thing on her mind. But if she could be still and give herself up to Tony, she could keep him away from Barton for the rest of the night. He had been working on her behalf for quite some time and she had done nothing for him but cause him trouble. And if this was to be goodbye, she could not send him away without something.

      It would be better for him if he ran, as she had told him to. She would be alone again, but he would be safe.

      But she did quite miss the comfort of a man’s arms around her, the soft words and gentle kisses.

      He freed the corset and in one smooth move pulled it forward and away from her body and pushed her bodice and chemise to her waist. She was bare before him.

      She closed her eyes, afraid of what she might see in his eyes. She was not old, certainly, but well past her prime. Suppose it was not what he had expected? She opened her eyes to look at him.

      And he did not notice, for he was gazing at her breasts in hungry fascination. He reached up to cup them in his hands, closed his eyes and sighed, and when he looked at her again his smile widened.

      All right. He seemed satisfied in that. And she had to admit that even though her nerves were jangling with dread, the feel of his hands as they caressed her was more than pleasant. There was a low humming in her blood as he looked at her. She was lying to herself to pretend that it would be a hardship to submit to him. And if they did it quickly, he would still be away before Barton tumbled to his whereabouts.

      She reached up and pulled his hand away, ready to lead him to her bed.

      And he shook off her touch and pushed her firmly back against the wall.

      Dear Lord. Did he mean to take her standing up? The humming was a singing in her at the thought. It would not take very long at all, then. Or so she thought. She had never tried it. It would be something that required more co-ordination, more balance, more stamina than she was used to in a partner. It was not something she had experience in. And was unlikely to be gen—

      His lips came down on hers, stopping thought as he took her tongue. His hands grasped her waist and found the strings of her petticoat, undid them and pushed the fabric to the floor, leaving her naked before him.

      He stepped away to admire her.

      She regained her thought. Gentle. He was not likely to be gentle, but she doubted that he would be so rough as to hurt her. She must need remember to relax, when the moment came, to make it easy for him to enter, and perhaps afterwards she could ask him to lie in her bed and hold her for a few minutes, before he had to go.

      Did one ask for such things? She was not sure.

      He was staring at her naked body, and she remembered too late that she should be embarrassed. At the very least, she should do something to help him out of his clothing, since the situation was highly unequal. She reached for the buttons of his waistcoat.

      He seized her by the wrists and pinned them against the wall, and said, his face close to hers, ‘I said I would take care of everything, your Grace.’

      And before she could suggest that under the circumstances he might call her Constance, his mouth was on hers again. She tried to pull her hands free, but he was too strong for her and held her pinned as he took her mouth. His grip on her hands was relaxed but unmovable, and she found she quite liked the feeling of struggling against his hold, the wool of his coat rubbing against her nakedness. And the way her movements seemed to inflame his ki—

      He was kissing her mouth with savage ferocity, and she writhed in his grasp, and with a shudder, she gave herself up to him, going weak and pliant in his arms. Only then did his lips move to her throat, and she could feel his tongue licking and his teeth biting at her pulse and making it jump in response. He released her hands and imprisoned her body between his and the wall, stroking down her back to cup her bottom before taking her by the shoulders and steadying himself as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.

      She tried to catch her breath, now that her mouth was free, but found it impossible. His mouth was greedy and hard against her and his hands slipped to her waist and squeezed, holding her steady as he su—

      Oh, dear Lord. His mouth was on her nipple, pulling hard and his hand slipped between her legs and…

      She pressed her back into the wall to keep from collapsing with the shock of it. He was making love to her with his hands, caressing her legs, spreading her sex and slipping those agile fingers in and out of her. She grabbed at her own hair, and it fell in a shower of pins and rose petals, the curls forming a curtain around him as he kissed her breasts. Then she ran her fingers through the waves in his hair, clutching at the back of his neck to hold his mouth to her and urge him on. Her breath was coming faster, sensations piling on top of sensation. And then subsiding as he pulled his mouth away to…

      He cupped his hand over her sex and slid to his knees before her, trailing kisses down her belly until he came to her navel, setting up a rhythm with his tongue and his hand, until she was rocking against him and pressing herself down on his hand to push his fingers more deeply into her, clutching his shoulders as though he were the only solid thing in the world.

      And he stopped. He lifted his head to look up into her face, dominating her even as he knelt at her feet. And again he smiled, and this time it was in triumph as he thrust into her with one hand, grabbed her hip with the other, and pulled her to his mou…

      And she lost herself, her cares, her body, and her mind, and yet the kiss did not end. She begged him to stop and in the same breath begged him for more, and he laughed against her and began it all again until her legs shook under her and she writhed against him as the feelings rolled through her again and again.

      ‘Your Grace?’

      He pulled away from her at last and laid his head against her thigh, idly kissing the soft flesh.

      ‘Your Grace, is anything the matter?’

      She shook her head, trying to understand what she was hearing.

      ‘Because I heard you cry out.’ Oh, dear, she had forgotten the maid. ‘Your Grace? The door