Educating Elizabeth

Chapter 20

Five minutes.

It took him only five minutes of pure heaven and pure hell to complete an act he had been dreaming about for weeks. Gervase rolled over, bringing Elizabeth with him, and covered his eyes with his forearm. He groaned out loud. She must think him a spectacularly inept lover.

To his infinite disgust, he'd spent three minutes resisting the possessive need to plunge as deeply and completely into her as a man could, and the final two wrestling with an insane desire to stay inside her when he knew he must withdraw.

He stared down at her flushed face, which rested over his heart. As if she sensed his regard, she braced her hands on his chest and raised her head. Her mouth opened and he placed his hand over it.

"If you are going to ask me if that was it, I will beat you." He growled as she pulled his fingers away. She frowned, wrinkling her nose as she contemplated him, her gray eyes wide and serious. She smoothed a lock of his hair behind his ear and patted his cheek.

"It is all right, Gervase. I understand that this must have been a difficult evening for you." She paused to brush a kiss on his lips. "No aging rake could be expected to enjoy being beaten at cards by a woman and then find the energy to perform in bed."

With an oath, he grabbed her hands, pulled them above her head and had her on her back before she could scarcely finish the sentence. Bereft of speech, he gazed down at her modestly lowered eyelids and caught the suspicion of a smile on her pursed lips.

"Aging, am I?" He leaned forward, kissed her hard on the mouth and straddled her. "You will be the one pleading to sleep soon, my dear. You will be the one begging."

Her only answer was a shrug as Gervase captured her breast in his mouth and began to suckle hard.

She shut her eyes and resolved to resist the temptations he offered, despite her body's urgings. The duke needed to learn she was not so easily seduced.

By the time the clock struck the half-hour, Elizabeth was well past the point of begging. She was writhing and biting and clawing at the duke in an effort to make him come inside her. He hovered over her, a smiling, taunting, devil, not allowing her to touch him or to break his hold on her wrists. Sweat gleamed on his muscled body as he contained her struggles and searched her quivering skin for yet another place to torment her.

She blinked and shook her head as he bent close again to kiss her swollen mouth. "Gervase, I need you. I take back what I said. You are truly the greatest lover in the world, as well as the best card player."

He chuckled against her neck as his fingers slid between her legs and buried themselves inside her. She moaned as his thumb found her swollen bud and caressed it with the tip of his fingernail. His mouth captured her breast and he lazily suckled her in counterpart to the thrust of his fingers. A now familiar haze of pleasure built inside her and she arched her hips to keep him close.

She shuddered as he released her hands and hooked her knees over his elbows, opening her wide to him. He tilted her backwards on the mound of pillows until she could see him poised to enter her. She held her breath as he held her gaze and slowly drove forward until he was enfolded in her aching heat. She counted five beats of her heart before he moved again and then withdrew completely. She tried to lock her ankles around his back but the angle at which he held her at prevented it. He surged into her again and again she counted to five before he retreated.

Another desperate half-hour passed. When the clock struck three, she sank her teeth into his arm and screamed his name. He laughed and climbed off her. She watched in disbelief as he strolled across to the fireplace in all his naked, aroused glory to retrieve his brandy glass. He filled the glass and toasted her before raising it to his lips.

"To old rakes and uppity virgins."

Elizabeth had never realized she had the ability to snarl. "You..."

His brandy flew everywhere as she charged into him, fists flying, toppling him over onto the floor. He held her tight to his chest as they fell together onto the thick Turkish rug, taking the impact on his broad back. She could feel him shaking with laughter as she fought to get free of his hold.

He rolled her over and the brandy, warmed by his skin, dripped from his face onto hers as they locked gazes. He smiled, a conqueror's smile, and slowly shook his head dousing her in more brandy. Elizabeth licked her lips and tasted the amber liquid mixed with the duke's subtle, salty taste. She arched her back, suddenly aware of the hardness pressed against her belly, and her undiminished desire to have him inside of her again.

She deliberately licked her lips and his lust filled gaze followed the movement of her tongue. "We are covered in brandy." She reached up to swirl the tip of her tongue over his unshaven chin. A shudder ran through him and his hips drove against hers with a convulsive thrust. His tongue darted forward to touch her nose and soon they were licking each other clean.

After a while, he picked her up and dropped her on the bed. Elizabeth grew so heated that when his large hands slid under her bottom to lift her for his penetration, she scarcely paused to breathe before she exploded with pleasure.

Gervase set his jaw as he rode her through her climax and forced himself not to spill his seed inside her. He had to fight the tightening grip of her inner muscles and, to complete his misery, her long legs wrapped around him, binding him to her like ivy.

He braced his hands on either side of her head and drew back as she struggled to hold onto him.

"Elizabeth, let me go. I need to come outside of you."

She allowed him to pull away, her face puzzled as he locked an arm around her waist and forced his hips hard against hers. The blessed frenzy of release blinded him, wrung him out and left him gasping against her breasts. It took a long while before her voice penetrated the mush that remained of his brain.

"Why must you pull away from me?"

Damnation, he should have known Miss Curiosity would demand a coherent explanation. He rolled onto his back and stared at the black silk canopy embroidered with devilfish and scantily clad mermaids above his head. If he were not so exhausted he would be sorely tempted to ignore her question and kiss her until she stopped speaking. It was the most effective means he had as yet devised for shutting her up.

"If I spill my seed inside you, you might get with child."

He almost yelped as her hand slid over his stomach and fastened around his sadly depleted manly parts. She squeezed him gently and then patted him as if she were humoring an unruly pet.

"I had forgotten that the begetting of children is supposed to be the only reason for performing this particular act."

With a growl, he placed his hand over hers, pressed it hard against his cock and held it there. "We will discuss these matters in the morning. Now you need to go back to your bed. It would not do for Jacques to find you here."

She sat up, arched her back, letting the sheet fall away from her naked breasts. The smile she bestowed upon him was full of weary satisfaction. "I fear that you are right. I am a little tired after my exertions."

He picked her up and crossed the corridor to her suite. He swept back the embroidered covers and tumbled her down into the center of the bed. A single candle lightened the darkness and illuminated the pureness of her skin and the golden glints in her hair as it fanned out over the pillows. The shadowed tips of her breasts beckoned him to rub them between his fingers like crumpled rose petals.

His breathing hitched and he knew he had to have her again. If it was indeed madness, he was consumed by it and would die a happy and satisfied man. He slid inside her and took her fast and she responded with equal enthusiasm, pulling him closer, matching his driving rhythm until he groaned and withdrew as his climax overcame him.

She was already falling asleep as he disentangled himself from her arms and slid out of the bed. He paused to gaze down on her face, innocent now, in the faint glow of the dawn. He imagined getting back into bed with her and falling asleep. He knew in his soul, had always known from the first time that they had met, that he would rest well beside her.

He frowned and withdrew his hand from the silken comforter as he recognized the extent of his folly. Instead of slaking his lust, he had simply stirred it to new heights.

"Good night, my dear," he murmured.

Elizabeth thought she had only bargained for one night of passion but until he decided otherwise, he intended to remain in her bed. He stretched his satiated body. Miss Elizabeth Waterstone would just have to learn to accustom herself to his demands.