Julia Justiss - Regency Rogues - Stolen Sins

He parted the nether lips and licked delicately at the little bud within. Frantic, she twisted her head from side to side, lifting her hips to bring him closer. Then, with tongue and fingers, he traced the path into her slick passage.

So near to the precipice was she that only a few strokes would have been enough to send her spinning into the free fall of climax. But this time, she wanted them to reach that pinnacle together. Rolling away from him, she sat up, then pulled him to lie down beside her, his head towards the bottom of the bed, then lay back down with her own head on the pillow.

Understanding her intent, he eagerly returned to tasting her, while she slid her hand under the waistband of his breeches to clasp the erection now within her reach. Stroking him while he laved her, the two of them mingled their cries as they reached the summit together.

For a long, sweet time, they lay panting, spent. Recovering more quickly than Maggie, Giles crawled up to lay on the pillow, then repositioned her with her head resting on his shoulder, her arm across his bare chest, and her leg wrapped around his. After tossing the rumpled blanket over her nakedness, he kissed the tip of her nose and promptly fell asleep.

Lying in his arms watching him, content, replete, Maggie realised she was feeling…happy. Something she hadn’t experienced in so long, she’d almost forgotten what it was like.

That realisation should have terrified her, and maybe it would, later. But for this glorious moment, in the wondrous present, she would simply enjoy it as a gift.

All too soon, Giles stirred. She held her breath as his sleepy eyes opened—would he shatter this magic by tossing back the covers, throwing on his clothes and bidding her a cheery goodbye as he hustled out to his meetings?

She saw that moment recognition of time, place—and his companion—register in those bright blue eyes. Which then widened, as a smile warmed a face alight with what she didn’t dare call tenderness.

‘My sweet lady,’ he murmured. ‘My very dear Lady Margaret.’

Despite her efforts to restrain it, her own heart swelled with an answering emotion. ‘After this morning, I think it should be “Maggie”, don’t you?’

‘My very dear Maggie,’ he repeated, and pulled her head down for a kiss—gentle, caressing almost—cherishing. As he released her, he said, ‘I wish we’d awakened in the Outer Hebrides.’

Puzzled, she angled her head at him. ‘You have a fondness for cold Scottish islands?’

He chuckled. ‘No, my love! But if we were in the Hebrides, I could resume the delightful business that has occupied us this morning. Since we are unfortunately in London, I suppose I must finally bow to my responsibilities and get back to work. I can only hope Davie hasn’t already sent out a search party, certain he’s going to discover my cold, dead body in some dark alley somewhere.’

‘You seldom miss meetings?’ she guessed.

‘I’m normally the first to arrive and the last to leave. But this morning I had a more pressing engagement. Although, to make up, I probably will be the last to leave.’

Reluctantly, she slid away and off the bed. Now that the loving was over, she should feel awkward, standing completely naked before a man she knew so slightly.

But he had loved her so well and so tenderly, all she felt was warmth and gratitude.

Tracking down his shirt, she brought it over to the bed, while he moved to sit up and lifted his arms for her to slip it back over his head. ‘The cravat is probably hopeless,’ he advised as she brought that over. ‘I’ll have to stop by my rooms to change out of riding gear anyway, before I go to Parliament. Though I heartily approve of my valet’s current uniform,’ he said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss on each bare nipple. ‘Can I help you, or would you rather call your maid?’

‘I’d appreciate the help. I’m sure the staff already has an accurate notion of how we spent the morning, but I’d rather be dressed when I face them. My lady’s maid, who’s been with me for years, would probably freeze any gossip, were she here, but unfortunately she’s at my father’s house. And incidentally, since I left to ride at dawn, she’s probably wondering if she should send out a search party to look for my cold, dead body.’

As she talked, she tossed on her shift, gathered up stays and stockings, and went to the clothes press to extract her habit, and Giles stepped closer to help her into them. He made an excellent lady’s maid; Maggie refused to let herself speculate how he’d become so skilled.

Once she was dressed, he took one hand and kissed it. ‘Will the servants gossip?’

‘I don’t think so. They’ve all of them been with me a long time, and I like to think they are fond of me. Besides, if it comes to it, I’m a woman of age with my own household. I’m not accountable to anyone for my conduct.’

‘I’d prefer there weren’t any salacious talk, though.’

‘No, I wouldn’t imagine that titterings about a tryst with a woman from the wrong party would help the image of—’

‘I don’t care about me!’ he interrupted. ‘But I should definitely take exception if anyone were to malign your reputation.’

‘Thank you, that is kind.’ The euphoria was slipping away, and much as she didn’t want it to end, she had to ask. ‘Will I…be seeing you again?’

His expression turned incredulous. ‘Did you truly think one time would be enough?’

His reassurance delighted her much more than it should. ‘I didn’t know. As I told you, I’ve never done this before. I didn’t know whether, once the…novelty was over, you would want to…continue.’

He shook his head disbelievingly. ‘I cannot wait to touch you again. When can I return?’

She laughed. ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to check my schedule, as I imagine you will need to consult yours. Truly, I didn’t plan for this to happen today.’

‘I heartily approve of your spontaneous idea.’

‘Not totally spontaneous. Following through on the desire was, perhaps. But I’d been thinking about it for a long time—probably from the first moment I met you. I tried to talk myself into being prudent and responsible, but every time I see you, prudence and responsibility seem to fly out the window—and in flies this great, fierce bird of need that grips me in its claws and won’t let go.’

He leaned over to kiss her again. ‘Here’s to great, fierce birds. I hope you keep a whole flock of them.’

She shook her head. ‘You must think me absurd.’

He cupped her face in his hands. ‘I think you delightful. Whimsical. Fascinating. The most glorious lover who has ever touched me. But now I must go. Do check your schedule and send me a note. Number Six, Albany. And make it soon.’

‘Number Six, Albany,’ she repeated.

He pulled her to him and gave her one last kiss, deep, cherishing, possessive, powerful. ‘Oh, yes—soon!’ she said, and let him go.

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