One Wicked Wish Page 12

  The Lumsdens were talking about Harriet’s beaux, and Halston scored a mention. The Bilsons were arguing over Mrs. Bilson flirting with Lord Tierney over dinner. Guttural snoring roared from the Tierneys’ room.

  When Halston stopped, she collided with him. She pressed her hand to her lips, too late to muffle a gasp.

  “There are steps ahead,” he murmured into her ear.

  This time, her shiver was pure pleasure. His breath was warm on her skin, and in the confined space, she felt drunk on his tangy scent. Sandalwood soap and something potently male.

  He turned a corner and kept hold of her hand as they climbed a set of steps. Finally he stopped at a wall. With a couple of soft clicks, the panel opened on a large sitting room that put her opulent bedroom completely in the shade.

  As Halston led her forward, Stella realized that they were in one of the gable ends of the house. He released her and reached back to shut the panel, closing them in.

  Wide-eyed, Stella surveyed her surroundings. Candles lit the room to gold, and a fire blazed in the hearth. The room was decorated in cream and dark green, and vases of massed flowers perfumed the air. Lilies predominated.

  She recalled her jealousy when she thought Halston had sent that bouquet to Imogen. As she drew in a breath tinged with exotic fragrance, her anticipation rose.

  “Very convenient for a mistress,” she said huskily, moving across to take a closer look at an enormous arrangement of spring flowers.

  Smiling with unabashed satisfaction, Halston leaned against the wall and crossed his arms across his powerful chest. His loose-limbed slouch reminded her of a big cat. A leopard or a tiger. However relaxed he might appear, he was ready to pounce.

  “Are you trying to find out how many women I’ve installed in your room for nefarious purposes?”

  She shook her head. “I’m guessing you’ve lost count.”

  With a huff of amusement, he crossed to open the bottle of champagne on the sideboard. There was a pop as he released the cork. “Not exactly.”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “It’s not. I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Fascinated, she watched him fill two glasses and set the bottle back in the ice bucket. He was such a pleasure to observe. He turned the most prosaic action into art.

  “For which I’m very grateful,” she said, accepting the glass he held out.

  Green eyes unwavering, he took a sip of his wine. That intense jade stare felt like a caress. She gave another of those delicious little shivers that were becoming a habit.

  “But in this case, I’ll break that rule.”

  “Oh?” Stella wasn’t sure that she wanted to know about the army of beauties who had trodden that corridor to arrive at his bed. She wished she hadn’t raised the subject.

  “None.”

  “A nun?” she repeated, shocked when she thought she was beyond the point where his sins might appal her.

  Despite her dismay at his confession, his gentle laugh made her heart turn over. “No, you absurd creature. None. No women. No mistresses. I try and keep my nose clean here, where I live and where I’ll one day bring my countess.”

  “I…see,” Stella said, finding his circumspection almost more disturbing than some tale of profligacy.

  “London is for fun. Prestwick Place is much too serious to play host to my wild women.” He drank some more champagne. “Apart from you.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I think I’m flattered.”

  Damn it, there he went again. Making her feel special, when she knew she wasn’t. Not really. Except that she was more of a nuisance to get into bed than his usual paramours.

  “So you should be, madam.” His smile broadened. “There are some delicacies over there. Are you hungry?”

  “Just for you,” she admitted, shocked anew, this time at her boldness. It had become a habit to guard every word and action, but something about Lord Halston made subterfuge impossible.

  His eyes flared as he stepped closer. “Stella…”

  She took a gulp of champagne and swallowed it with a speed that did the fine vintage no justice. Dutch courage was more important than the taste. Her craving for Halston’s hands on her skin became a mania.

  Stella set her crystal glass on the nearest table. Her grip was so unsteady that liquid sloshed against the rim. When she turned to face Halston, he hadn’t moved. The urgency sharpening his features made him look more like a fallen angel than ever. Lucifer tumbled to earth to seduce a mere mortal.

  Lucky mortal.

  She shook back the weight of her hair and reached down to untie her peignoir. Under Halston’s burning regard, her fingers were clumsy. It took an eon to release the knot.

  His unhidden interest stirred wanton pleasure. When she lifted her hands to slide the robe from her shoulders, she felt confident. More, she felt beautiful and desired, and equal to anything that happened tonight.

  As the peignoir slipped to the floor, Halston gave a low growl of pleasure. “You wore it.”

  “Yes.”

  When she’d come upstairs, she found the exquisite golden silk nightgown draped over her bed. Now she displayed herself for the gaze that devoured her from top to toe.

  She was naked beneath the silk, which was sheer enough to reveal every detail of her body. Her breasts swelled, and her nipples tightened until they hurt. Longing settled in her belly, and a deep throbbing set up in her secret hollows.

  Halston’s hand was unsteady, too, as he placed his glass beside hers. “You’re glorious.”

  Stella spread her hands in welcome. “Let’s do glorious things together.”

  Chapter 10

  Halston surged across the distance between them and caught Stella up in his arms for a passionate kiss. She met him with white-hot desire. No uncertainty, no coyness, no games. Her hands tugged and ripped at his shirt, as if she needed to touch his skin more than she needed to breathe.

  It took an almighty act of will to lift his head. She looked wild and desperate, her eyes brilliant with hunger. She was gasping after that overwhelming kiss, and under the nightgown, her breasts rose and fell. He caught a glimpse of peaked nipples and a shadowy hint of the curls at the delta of her thighs.

  The silk did little to conceal her body, but even so, he cursed any barrier between him and her nakedness. It had cost him a king’s ransom, and right now he wanted to rip it to shreds until all he could see was Stella.

  He dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. “It’s exciting that you want me.”

  Her gaze skittered across the raised red scar that the bullet had left, but he was grateful that she didn’t mention it. “I want you more than I can say,” she admitted.

  How he loved the frankness of her lust. His shaking hands plowed into that sumptuous fall of hair and when he brought her close, her breasts crushed into his chest. He kissed her again, feeling the slide of silk against his skin.

  With arousing murmurs of enjoyment, she clawed at his back. He was already hard, but her unfettered pleasure in what they did made him swell against his trousers. Her hands explored his arms and shoulders, avoiding his injury, before tracing an incendiary line down his spine.

  A grunt of shock escaped when she gripped his buttocks, hauling him into her body until he rubbed against her stomach. Their bodies fitted as if designed to meld together. She moaned against his lips, kneading his arse with a rhythm that only made him more frantic to be inside her.

  She ripped her lips free of his and bit his neck. The sting thundered through him and stoked his desire. Her busy hands slipped between them, ripping at the fastenings on his trousers until he sprang free, throbbing and eager.

  When her fingers curled around him, bright light blinded his eyes. The blast of heat threatened to blow his head off.

  Halston caught her hips and hoisted her high. The movement pulled on his wound, but he didn’t give a damn. She made a guttural sound redolent with approval and curled her legs around him, bunching
up the nightgown.

  When Stella opened to him, he caught a drift of rich female arousal. He staggered forward until her back slammed into the wall. Her hands hooked around his shoulders, as she rained greedy kisses over every part of him that she could reach. His face, his neck, his shoulders, the top of his chest. Each touch of her lips sparked a fire, until raging flame consumed him.

  He jiggled her until she was poised, ready for him. Unable to hold back, he plunged deep. She cried out, and her hands turned into talons, scratching him.

  Halston sucked in a great gulp of air. She was deliciously tight, and hot and sleek with need. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on her shoulder and let intense pleasure flow through him.

  She shifted, and her grip eased to a caress. The silent invitation was irresistible. He began to move with hard, determined thrusts that knocked her against the wall. She pressed her cheek against his. Each gasp when he penetrated her played a magnificent symphony in his ears.

  Those gasps rose until she clenched around him in spasms of ecstasy. Fumbling, shaking, aware of her quaking climax going on and on, he swung around and stumbled to the floor. As he descended, he banged his knees hard. He registered the pain at a distance.

  Supporting her back, more careful with her than with himself, he lowered her to the carpet and thrust again. He wanted to stay inside Stella forever. Her body offered the closest glimpse of paradise he was ever likely to get.

  It went against every masculine instinct to wrench free. With unsteady hands, he shoved up the crumpled nightdress to reveal her bare stomach.

  Halston lost himself on her skin, groaning with unrivaled pleasure. He collapsed at her side, struggling for breath, feeling like he’d just run through a forest fire. He was utterly exhausted, utterly enthralled. Stella had taken all of him and wrung every drop from him. He wondered if he’d ever find the strength to get up off the floor.

  Surprising him again, she took his hand. The link confirmed the bond forged out of that astonishing conflagration of pleasure.

  After that astoundingly good fuck, this connection should seem trivial. Holding hands was something sweethearts did. Innocent children.

  Whereas Halston was no innocent child. Nor was Stella.

  But the warmth that stole over him with the chaste contact was as powerful in its way as that first, earth-shattering entry into her body. He curled his fingers around hers, unable to find words to express his pleasure in what they’d just done.

  His heart slowed. He was no longer deaf to everything except the stormy force of his blood. He heard an owl hoot outside, then another owl answered. He heard the fire crackling in the grate.

  And he heard something else, something that he took a few moments to identify. His senses might reawaken to his surroundings, but his mind still wandered the outer limits of the stars, where this lovely woman had transported him in that delirious swiving.

  Horror flooded him. And self-recrimination. He’d been staring unseeing up at the ornate plasterwork on the ceiling. Now he turned his head toward Stella. Even that small movement strained him. She really had used him up in a way he couldn’t remember before.

  “You’re crying,” he grated out. “Devil take it, did I hurt you?”

  To his regret, she released his hand and sat up, folding her legs beneath her. He’d suspected from the first that she had spectacular legs. He’d been right.

  “No, of course you didn’t.” Her voice was clogged with tears.

  “You were very tight, and I wasn’t gentle.”

  Trembling hands wiped her face, as she answered in that same thick voice. “It was a bit of a shock at first.” She directed a glance down to where his trousers gaped open and his dick lay flaccid against his thighs. “You’re much larger than Niccolo.”

  Halston told himself that only a petty human being would appreciate hearing that. “You haven’t had a man in ten years. I should have been more careful.”

  “It was wonderful.” Her laugh was rueful. “The most exciting thing in my whole life.”

  He sat up, too. “Then why are you crying?”

  “It’s silly, but I’ve never felt anything like that before.” Stella made an apologetic gesture. “I promise I won’t howl my eyes out every time you take me.”

  He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. “I don’t mind.”

  To his surprise, Halston didn’t, although feminine tears had long ago lost any power over him. Too many mistresses had used tears as weapons of war, to squeeze more jewelry out of him or a more generous settlement when an affair was over.

  But Stella wasn’t trying to manipulate him. In fact, it was clear that her overwrought reaction left her mortified.

  She was starting to look happier, thank goodness, although a tinge of embarrassment lingered in the quick glance she sent him. “I’d forgotten what it’s like when a man is inside me. I’d forgotten quite how…intimate it feels. Not just physically, but emotionally. For a little while, I wasn’t alone anymore.”

  His heart was rusty when it came to poignant emotion. When it squeezed tight now, the effect was painful. “Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed and placed his arms around her shoulders.

  That turbulent, searing encounter hadn’t contained a single trace of tenderness, but as he drew her against his side and kissed the top of her head, tenderness felt like it was eating him alive.

  He’d always known that this affair would be unlike any of his others. It turned out that he’d had no idea how far it would take him from his usual pragmatic arrangements.

  At least Stella wasn’t crying because he’d hurt her or because she regretted what they’d done. He couldn’t bear it if either of those were the case.

  “I had different plans, you know,” Halston said in a musing tone.

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” She shifted to meet his eyes, but made no attempt to break away, he was pleased to notice. “You meant to take me to bed. I never expected anything else.”

  He gave a brief laugh and kissed her. “Bed being the point. I was going to ply you with wine and delicious morsels and share a little conversation, then take my time to arouse you, once I led you through into my bedchamber. It was all going to be frightfully civilized.”

  She stroked his hair. “I liked that it was savage and uncontrolled and unplanned. It felt wonderful to know how much you wanted me.”

  “There’s no doubt about that.” If she glanced down now, she’d see he wanted her again. How was it that he’d gone from fearing he’d never move again to sharpening interest in having her once more? “I promised to make you scream.”

  She started to look cheerier. “You did.” She paused. “And you did. No wonder you’re looking so pleased with yourself.”

  “I am, although I’m less pleased at my lack of restraint. One touch and I was lost.”

  “I think it’s my turn to look smug.”

  As her amusement faded, he read longing in her golden eyes. That was another thing that was different about this affair. The thought of his previous mistresses yearning for him would have made him run a hundred miles in the opposite direction.

  “I wanted you, too,” she admitted. “It’s been an eon since you kissed me in London, and then I thought this evening would never end. I can’t think of anything but being in your arms. Now that I know what you can do to me, it will be even worse. You’ve lured me into the realms of sin, Gray. I fear they might become my permanent home.”

  He kissed her again. He loved the taste of her mouth. He loved the way she surrendered her whole self to every kiss. “I’d like that.”

  Sudden shock had him going still. What the hell was he doing? What he said smacked of promises for the future. He never made promises to a lover.

  When he’d pounded into Stella’s body, the experience had eclipsed all earlier fucks. Now his emotional barriers cracked one by one.

  Stella Faulkner was dangerous.

  Halston should have recognized that before, but he’d been in such a frenzy
to have her, misgivings went unheard.

  Those misgivings had risen to a clamor, and he didn’t know how to silence them. He couldn’t countenance the idea of ending this affair. Not yet.

  He told himself that was just because she was so wondrous in his arms and he still had things he wanted to do to her. But he had a bothersome sense that having her would only make him want to have her again.

  She watched him, a faint line between her tawny brows. Although her eyelashes were wet, she was no longer crying. “What is it, Gray?”

  Shaking his head, he reminded himself that he was a notorious rake who sought sensual pleasure and nothing more from his amours. He refused to acknowledge how hollow that statement sounded, even in the privacy of his own head.

  “Nothing.” He shifted away and fastened his trousers. With his tackle waving in the air, he felt a little too vulnerable. “Let me clean you up.”

  “I can do it.” She paused, then spoke in a tone that he hadn’t heard since their first meeting. Back when she was convinced that he wanted to court her cousin. “In fact, I think I’d rather.”

  Blast it all, she’d sensed his withdrawal. It was frightening quite how attuned they were. Not just on a physical level.

  That was what frightened the life out of him, not the unparalleled delight of uniting his body with hers. Problems only arose when he wasn’t fucking her.

  Halston stood and reached out to help her up. He saw her consider refusing his hand, and he kicked himself for making such a bloody mess of this. Since they’d met in the gazebo, he’d plotted this chance to spend the night with Stella. Now because he lost control of his feelings, she was busy building barriers against him.

  Feelings were always a catastrophe. Feelings could go to blazes.

  The extent of his relief when she accepted his hand was out of all proportion to the action. “There’s hot water in the dressing room.”

  “Thank you.”