A Secret Surrender Page 18

  He stroked between her legs, stoking the fire inside her. She gripped the coverlet as her muscles clenched.

  “Relax just a bit, love,” he coaxed as he focused his touch on the top of her sex, a particular spot that felt absolutely divine.

  She tried to do as he bade, forcing her limbs to uncoil. But it didn’t last long. Something was building inside her, a tension, a pressure that simply must be released. And she couldn’t do it herself. She needed him.

  “I can’t—” She didn’t know what she couldn’t do. “I need—” She knew what she needed—or whom. “I need you.”

  His finger moved inside her, stretching her, filling her, giving her precisely what she longed for. Selina arched up, seeking more of him. Then he did the most astonishing, terrifying thing. He put his mouth on her.

  She only knew that was what he was doing because she felt the flick of something wet and opened her eyes. Looking down her body, she saw the dark red of his hair, felt the lick of his tongue against her, and let out a pent-up breath.

  This was surely wrong and terrible, but she wouldn’t stop him. She couldn’t. He kissed her there, in much the same way he did her mouth, his tongue exploring and then flattening, his lips gently sucking. Then his finger was inside her again, working in concert with his mouth, pulling her inexorably to a great, unimaginable height. His thrusts grew faster and deeper as his mouth closed over that sensitive part of her.

  Then it came—the freedom she’d so desperately been searching for. She let go of the coverlet, her hands splaying against the fabric as her body splintered. Tumbling into a feverish darkness, she arched and moaned, then clasped his head. He filled her and held her, anchoring her through the torrent.

  Then he was gone. Still floating, she opened her eyes the barest amount to see him pushing his breeches and small clothes down over his hips. The sight of his cock—thick and rigid—stole her breath.

  He rotated her on the bed and climbed on beside her, looking down into her eyes. “Tell me to stop, if that’s what you want.” The words were ragged, his tone breathless. His eyes were dark and wild.

  “That is not what I want.” She pulled him over her, spreading her quivering legs. She’d never felt more alive. Bringing her head up, she kissed him, claiming him as hers. At least for now. Now was more than she’d ever had. Now was enough.

  “Bring your legs up around me,” he said against her mouth. Then he was there—his cock against her sex. Slowly, he slid inside, and she closed her eyes once more.

  Yes, this was what she’d craved. She wrapped her legs around him and lay back against the pillows as he surged forward, filling her completely. Long distant memories rose and faded. She wouldn’t allow them to intrude. This might look the same mechanically, but there was nothing similar to what had been done to her and what she currently invited.

  Harry brushed the curls away from her face as he began to thrust, gently at first. He whispered words of longing and beauty. Their bodies twined together, moving rhythmically and gradually picking up speed. He kissed her ear, her jaw, her lips. Then he kissed her breast again, his lips and teeth tugging at her sensitive nipple, making her cry out as the tension that had just been released a short time before built again.

  There was nothing to be feared here, just a growing ecstasy. Selina, eager to fly once more, clasped his back, moving one hand to cup his backside. He increased the speed of his thrusts, creating an almost unbearable friction. Selina cried out over and over as she took flight. She dug her fingernails into his flesh, holding on to him lest she fall alone.

  She didn’t want to be alone—not now.

  He stroked into her hard and fast, pushing her over the edge into helpless oblivion. Casting her head back, her body stiffened as the liberating wave swept over her. There was joy and satisfaction. Selina smiled.

  Then he was gone.

  Her eyes flew open, and she felt wetness on her abdomen. A sense of dread gripped her. “Why did you stop?” What had she done wrong? The beauty of the moment faded.

  Harry rolled to his side and gathered her in his arms. He stroked the curls back from her temple. “Selina, my darling, don’t be upset.” He kissed her forehead. “I had to remove myself before spilling my seed. It’s an unfortunate necessity to prevent a child.”

  “Oh.” She wished she didn’t feel so stupid. “You must think I’m incredibly naïve.”

  “Not at all. I think you’re sweet and lovely, and I’m humbled you would share yourself with me in this manner.” He kissed her cheek and then her mouth, his lips lingering softly against hers.

  He was humbled. She knew good men existed. Men who were kind and generous. Men like Sir Barnabus. She’d just never imagined to find herself having an affair with one. She’d never imagined herself having an affair at all.

  The cynic in her wanted to believe this wasn’t real. In some ways, it wasn’t. It was a dream, and one she would happily embrace for as long as she could.

  Selina cupped his cheek. “You’re a good man.” She wished with everything she had that she was a good woman, that she was worthy of him.

  He kissed her again, and she closed her eyes to dream.

  Chapter 14

  Selina had spent the previous evening in a haze following the afternoon she’d spent in Harry’s bed. She still couldn’t quite believe it had happened. Maybe that was why she hadn’t said anything to Beatrix. Selina had been grateful for the card party they’d attended, as it had provided a wonderful—and necessary—distraction.

  Before dropping her off on Queen Anne Street, Harry had said he’d arrange her riding lesson for this morning in the park. They’d start early to avoid being seen by a crowd of people, and they’d go to a less-used area. He fetched her in his gig and drove them to Hyde Park.

  She’d felt awkward and shy seeing him after what they’d done. “I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted.

  He steered them into the park and sent her an encouraging smile. “Don’t be. Hyacinth is a very gentle horse, and my father’s groom is quite accomplished at working with new riders.”

  “Your father’s groom?” Did his family know about this? She would be surprised if they did.

  He chuckled. “I can see what you’re thinking. The groom—he’s called Trask—is loyal to me and very discreet. You’ll be using my mother’s old sidesaddle, for she no longer rides.”

  “I see. And the horse?”

  “Belongs to my friend, the Marquess of Ripley.”

  She turned her head sharply. “The marquess is a friend of yours?”

  “Yes. We were in Christ Church together at Oxford. You know him?”

  “I do not, but I’ve met his wife. She was quite lovely.” Selina tried not to think about the fact that Harry had attended Oxford. It wasn’t surprising, and as a former barrister, he was rather well educated. She felt utterly deficient beside him. A beggar and a fraud. She shifted uncomfortably.

  “She is indeed,” Harry said. “How did you meet?”

  “At a gathering of the Spitfire Society.”

  He drove them through the park, and Selina saw two grooms with a pair of horses up ahead. “Ah, that group of women—what do they do exactly?”

  “I’m not entirely certain, but I hope to find out at our next meeting.” As Harry drew the gig to a stop, she asked, “Why are there two grooms?”

  “Jakes is here to watch over my gig during your lesson. I was going to do it, but Trask thought I should ride with you.”

  “Of course you should.” Selina didn’t think she could have done it if he wasn’t with her.

  He grinned at her. “It’s so nice to be wanted.”

  “You are.” The words slipped from her mouth before she knew she meant to say them. She did want him—and not just as a riding instructor or a lover. He made her feel wanted too. And safe. It was a strange and heady sensation.

  Harry hopped out of the gig and came around to help her down. Jakes, a young man with ink-dark hair and round cheeks, took over the manag
ement of the vehicle, and Harry thanked him for doing so.

  “Good morning,” Harry said to Trask as they approached the horses.

  “’Morning, Mr. Sheffield.” Trask inclined his head, then turned to Selina. He offered her a bow. “My lady.”

  It had taken some time for Selina to grow used to being called “my lady,” and she still wasn’t sure she liked it. But then everything felt wrong of late—except Harry. “Good morning, Trask.”

  The groom pulled the hat tight onto his head as he straightened. In his fifties, he had a grizzled appearance, as if he’d seen a great many things, and not all of them pleasant. He also had a twinkle in his blue eyes and a fan of creases from their edges that indicated he had a sense of humor. Selina relaxed a little.

  “Mr. Sheffield says you are new to riding, so I suggested he review the fundamentals, such as whether you’ve ever talked to a horse.”

  “Trask thinks that’s critically important,” Harry said with a touch of humor.

  Selina smiled, looking from Trask to Harry. “Yes. I know how to drive.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Harry raked her with an appreciative glance.

  “What will I be learning today?” Selina asked Harry.

  “How to mount. Then we’ll take a walk. How does that sound?”

  “Like just enough.” She let out a high-pitched laugh.

  Harry came toward her and lightly touched her back. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “Come meet Hyacinth.”

  He walked with her to the horse who bore the sidesaddle. Smaller than Harry’s mount, she possessed warm eyes that seemed to reflect her docility.

  Selina paid close attention as Harry explained the saddle and how it differed from a men’s saddle. Already, she decided this was another area in which women were given short shrift.

  “You’re sure it’s not a problem that I’m not wearing a riding habit?” She didn’t have one, of course. Nor did she have money to have one made, which was just another thing that weighed on her mind. This deception was getting harder and harder to support. And she was frankly losing her will to do so.

  Harry gave her a reassuring smile. “It may be a little snug, but it will do. Ready to mount?”

  She nodded, and Harry moved his hand to clasp her waist. The connection jolted straight to her core, reminding her of the more intimate ways he’d touched her yesterday. She resisted the urge to press back against him.

  “You’re going to put your left foot in the stirrup there.” He pointed with his free hand. “I’m going to lift you. Then you’ll swing your right leg up and bend it around the pommel.” He gestured to the round protrusion at the front of the saddle.

  “What if Hyacinth moves?”

  “She won’t, but Trask will be holding the lead. You’re quite safe.”

  Selina exchanged a look with the groom, who had a firm grip on the lead rope. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Put your hands up on the saddle to help lift your body. Ready?” Harry spoke near her ear, and she tried not to think of how close his lips were.

  “Yes.”

  Both of his hands gripped her, one pushing beneath her backside, as he lifted her up. She did as he’d instructed, putting one foot in the stirrup and curling her right knee around the pommel. The fabric of her gown pulled, and she saw right away why a habit with its voluminous skirts was necessary.

  She looked down at him as she tried to find security in her seat. “Wouldn’t it just be easier if I wore breeches and rode like a man?”

  He laughed. “Probably. But unacceptable, which is too bad.” His gaze moved over her with a promising heat that only fanned the flames of her desire. He stared a moment too long at her backside, and she wondered if he was thinking of the way he’d just caressed her. She certainly was.

  Harry handed her the reins. “Take these. You’ll need them.” He winked at her. “Trask is going to hold the lead, however, so you won’t really need to steer. Not today.”

  That implied there would be other days. She thought of the life she’d envisioned yesterday when she’d been with Luther. She and Harry together. He could finish teaching her to ride.

  As much as she wanted that, she couldn’t see it happening.

  “Now, try not to lean forward,” Harry instructed. “Center your weight on your right thigh. It will take some getting used to.” When she did so, he continued. “This is when talking to your horse comes into play—you’ll tell Hyacinth to ‘walk,’ and she will follow your command.”

  “It’s really that simple?”

  “For now, yes. Things will get a touch more complicated when we move faster, but that won’t happen today.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him dubiously. “What, exactly, is a touch?”

  “Well, it’s not a specific form of measurement,” he said, grinning. “Knowing you as I do, I feel confident in saying it will not be beyond your ability. Will that suffice?”

  Knowing her as he did. She did think they’d come to know each other rather well and was pleased to hear he thought so too. “Yes. I trust you.”

  The realization that she did made her breath catch. She never trusted anyone. And he would never trust her, not if he knew the truth.

  Don’t think about that just now. Enjoy this moment.

  “Ready to walk?” Harry asked, interrupting her thoughts, for which she was most grateful.

  “Yes.” She watched as he went and leapt effortlessly atop his horse.

  Harry steered his mount next to hers. “You know what to do next.”

  Gripping the reins more tightly than was probably necessary, Selina made herself relax. “Walk.”

  Hyacinth stepped forward, moving sedately as Trask held the lead rope. The sidesaddle was not particularly comfortable, nor was her position. She could see how this would take plenty of getting used to. As Hyacinth moved, Selina felt every shift of the animal’s muscles and seemingly every pebble on the ground.

  “How on earth is it possible to canter like this?” she asked Harry, who walked beside her.

  He laughed. “Carefully. And not until you have more skill. You’ll get there, however, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

  “How long did it take you to learn to canter?”

  Harry grimaced. “About five minutes, much to the groom’s horror.”

  “I’m sorry I missed that,” Trask said. “I’ve heard the story of course. Mr. Sheffield managed to stay on the pony and wasn’t scared for a moment.”

  Laughing, Harry said, “That’s not exactly true. I recall being frightened for a split second.”

  Selina shook her head, grinning. “You do not.”

  He gave her a sly glance filled with humor. “No, I don’t. I’d watched my father ride enough that I knew exactly what to do to make the pony run and I did it.”

  “He always was too smart for his own good, as long as I’ve known him,” Trask noted, chuckling.

  Yet Selina had been able to deceive him and continued to do so. A wave of shame crashed over her, and she nearly blurted the truth to him right there.

  But she couldn’t. Not with all that was at stake for her future—and for Beatrix’s.

  She grew angry. Couldn’t she just enjoy herself for one morning without thinking of how to survive?

  Yes, she could, and she meant to do just that.

  “Well, don’t tell me how to make Hyacinth canter, thank you.”

  “Not until you’re ready,” Harry said. “You’re doing very well. See, I told you Hyacinth was gentle as a newborn fawn.”

  “I don’t recall you saying that,” Selina said with a laugh. “But yes, she’s quite lovely.” Selina patted the horse’s neck. “Aren’t you, girl?”

  Hyacinth twitched her mane in response, and Selina closed her eyes for a brief moment as she felt the animal move beneath her. She could get used to this…

  Suddenly, Hyacinth whinnied and began to move faster. Selina’s eyes flew open in panic. “What’s going on?”

  �
��Damn rabbit,” Trask swore. He pulled on the lead and talked to Hyacinth, urging her to walk again. Thankfully, she did.

  Selina had leaned forward to throw her arms around Hyacinth’s neck. She breathed hard as she worked to calm herself now that she knew she was safe.

  “Sit back and center yourself,” Harry said softly. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I was just surprised. I’d closed my eyes for just a moment.”

  “I saw that,” he said. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

  “I am.” Her eyes met his, and she saw the same sentiment reflected back at her—happiness. Joy. This was perhaps the best moment she’d ever experienced.

  They completed their walk, and Harry helped her dismount. Selina’s legs felt a bit shaky as she patted Hyacinth’s neck and thanked her for the ride.

  “Thank you, Trask,” Harry said. “I’ll let you know when we’ll do this again. Mayhap after Lady Gresham procures a riding habit.”

  “That would be advisable.” Trask bowed to Selina. “My lady, it’s been a pleasure.”

  “The pleasure was entirely mine,” she said warmly. “Thank you.”

  Selina’s chest tightened. How she wished she could do this again.

  Harry escorted her back to the gig, and Jakes went to help Trask. Once Selina was situated in her seat, Harry climbed in beside her.

  “What did you really think?” he asked. “I know you were spooked for a moment.”

  “It was wonderful. Thank you.” She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to show him how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

  “There’s no one here, save the grooms who are behind us and occupied with their task,” he said huskily, his body pitching toward hers. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

  “Please do.” She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned into him as his mouth claimed hers. The kiss was sweet and electric. It further suffused her with that foreign sensation of happiness and joy—of rightness.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back. “I suppose I must drive you home.”

  “I suppose you must.”

  He picked up the reins and shifted in his seat. She couldn’t help but look over to see if he was aroused as she was. “It’s too bad you can’t come upstairs when you take me home.”