Betrayal Read online

  She looked up, smiling. “With pleasure.” And then she was there and her hands lay flat against his chest and he couldn’t help the deep groan that seemed to escape from the depth of his being.

  “Oh God, Ginny!” He caught her hands and pressed them against his skin, shuddering under her touch. Suddenly desperate for the taste of her, he leaned down to capture her lips with his. She murmured something he didn’t quite catch, but then it didn’t matter because her mouth opened for him and her tongue stroked against his, teased him, enticed him, until he was half mad with wanting her.

  Her hands slipped from his grasp and drew fiery circles over his skin. They wandered over his ribcage, up his chest, lingered for a bit before they slid up to his shoulders and down his arms.

  Ginny sighed against his mouth. “So much...” she whispered dreamily.

  And he was getting more by the minute! He gave an unsteady laugh and with one arm around her waist drew her flush against him. The other hand curved around her neck, and with his thumb stroking over her soft cheek, he angled her head upwards to resume their kiss. This appeared to meet with her approval, judging from her appreciative little hums and moans and the way her hips lifted against his growing erection.

  Her small sounds of pleasure drove him wild. That he could bring her pleasure, that she would let him, was a marvel to him. Slowly, he walked her backward towards the bed, plundering her mouth each step of the way until her back pressed against one of the tall wooden columns of the four-poster.

  She opened her eyes. He smiled at her astonished look, and nipped her full lower lip. “Your hands,” he murmured throatily.

  “Hmm?”

  “Move them above your head and grip the column.”

  That made her frown. “What?”

  God, she was adorable! He kissed her nose and proceeded to show her, drawing his fingers down her arms, lifting them above her head, and curving her hands around the wood. “Don’t let go,” he instructed her.

  “Ash...”

  But he had already buried his face against her damp throat and pressed open-mouthed kisses against her sensitive skin, licking and nibbling until she moaned.

  She threw her head back and gave herself up to his ministrations. “Are you going to torture me?” she asked breathlessly.

  He smiled against her skin. “No. Not quite.”

  For once he was glad that she was wearing a simple, old-fashioned dress with a bodice that opened at the front. In no time at all he had removed the pins at the shoulders. As they hit the floor with soft plings, the bodice fell open and revealed the upper swell of her creamy breasts. Ash sighed with sheer pleasure and hailed the sight that greeted his eyes with a string of kisses along her upper chest. Finally, he dipped his tongue into the valley between her breasts, tickled her a little, and chuckled when she giggled and swatted at his head.

  “Hands around that column, remember?” His own hands roamed inside the dress—she gave a small sigh—until he had found the ties that held the skirt closed. He fumbled, swore—she laughed—ah, Ginny, Ginny...—then the front of the dress gaped open.

  Heat spread through his body, lust firing his blood.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured and pushed the sleeves down her arms. She slipped out of them, and the dress fell to the floor so she stood in a puddle of ugly, dark fabric. Good, he thought. His Ginny ought to wear silks—or perhaps, even better, nothing at all. “Hmm,” he said, and kissed her shoulder. Playfully he nipped her skin and soothed the small pain with his lips and tongue.

  Another sigh. “You are intent on torturing me,” she grumbled.

  He focussed his attention on untying the fastenings at the front of her short stays. “Never that, Ginny-sweet.”

  At her stricken gasp, he quickly looked up and found her gazing at him with eyes that slowly filled with tears. Her right hand lay trembling over her mouth

  Alarmed, he straightened and cupped her cheek. “What? What is it?”

  The tears overflowed then. “Oh Ash!” Her lips trembled and half lifted into a smile, then trembled some more. “You called me Ginny-sweet.” She threw her arms around his shoulders and hid her face against his throat. “I missed that. I missed you—you don’t know how much!”

  He held her tightly. “I can guess,” he said, his own voice none too steady. “I missed you too.” Seventeen years lost, irrevocably gone. Once again, sorrow and guilt swept over him like a giant wave. As he felt Ginny’s tears on his skin, he laid his cheek against the crown of her head and let his own tears seep into her hair.

  How long they stood crying in each other’s arms he didn’t know, but she finally leaned back in his embrace and gave a wet chuckle. “Just look at us.” Her hands dabbed at the wetness on his cheeks. “A right old pair of waterworks, we are.”

  Trust her to see the humour even in this situation. “I would agree about the waterworks, but as to old?” He gently wiped away the tears on her face. “Damn, where did I put my neckcloth?”

  She sniffed. “What do you need your neckcloth for?”

  “For mopping us up, of course.” He cupped her cheek in his palm and used the pad of his thumb to rub over the lingering wetness underneath her eyes. He loved the feeling of her skin. He didn’t want to stop touching her ever again. “Ah, Ginny, Ginny...” With a raw groan he leaned down to kiss away the saltiness on her cheeks.

  Her hand came up to stroke over his hair, and her sigh feathered over his face. “Don’t you dare to stop to look for your neckcloth,” she whispered. He could feel her twisting and fumbling around, but he was more interested in the way her head leaned to one side, exposing the vulnerable skin at the side of her throat. Promptly he followed the unspoken invitation, burying his face in the hollow of neck and shoulder, nibbling, licking, kissing her soft, soft skin. “Ash!” she protested, half laughing, then pushed at his shoulders. “Here, let me.” She dabbed something against his cheeks.

  Linen.

  A corner of the skirt of her chemise, which she had drawn up.

  He looked down.

  At the sight that greeted him, an appreciative grin lifted his lips: a stripe of smooth, pale thigh. A hot shaft of lust shot through him, and suddenly he couldn’t wait any longer: he just had to touch her intimately. Right now. This very moment.

  “No, my sweet, let me.” He sank on his knees in front of her and lifted the other side of the skirt as well. “Hold this up for me, will you?”

  “Ash...”

  He glanced up at her. Her face was still blotchy from the tears they had shed together, but as he watched, a delightful blush stole over her features. Truly, she had never been more beautiful to him than at this moment.

  His eyes dropped to what he had exposed: the curly mound of her sex with the plump lips—how could he have forgotten how plump they were?

  Another pang of regret sliced through him. This time, however, he did not allow the sadness to overwhelm him. Instead he leaned forward to brush a kiss over her lower belly, just above the nest of curls.

  He was rewarded by a sigh and a shudder that shook her whole body.

  “Ash...” Her voice had grown unsteady.

  Ah—so he hadn’t forgotten quite everything.

  He grinned up at her. “I think I have found the perfect way to do penance.” His hands curved over her thighs, loving the silkiness of her skin, the softness of her flesh. “Open for me, Ginny-sweet.”

  Her blush intensified and spread until even her throat and the swell of her breasts were covered in a sweet, rosy hue.

  “I don’t know, Ash. I...” She bit her lip. “I’m not...” She made as if to lower the chemise. “It has been a long time since...”

  Tenderness swamped him. He reached for her hand to prevent her from dropping the bunched-up linen. “Then let me make it up to you.” Before she could voice further protests, he leaned in again and kissed her sex, ran his tongue between those delightful lips until he found the pearl of her lust and Georgina was shaking and moaning in his arms.
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  He moved in even closer, lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and feasted on her sex. He paid homage to his beloved, worshipped her with this lips, his tongue, and the occasional scratch of his teeth. The taste of her passion drove him wild, and her moans and whimpers spurned him on to heighten her pleasure any way he could.

  “Oh god... oh Ash... oh....”

  He glanced up. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, and her hands clutched the chemise so tightly her knuckles shone white.

  “I love you,” he told her. “So much.” And with that, he took the center of her pleasure between his lips and sucked, hard.

  Her body arched like a bow as she came with a short, sharp cry.

  When her knees buckled, his arms were waiting for her. As he lifted her, her head lolled against his shoulder and she whimpered a little. Small shivers continued to wrack her body. It filled him with awe—that he could still give her so much pleasure.

  He pressed a kissed on her forehead. “I love you,” he repeated before he laid her down on the bed. “Ah, Ginny-sweet, I love you so.”

  ~*~

  Georgina found herself lying on the bed, her limbs boneless, her skin tingling. She could feel his heat as he moved over her, his fingers again working on the strings of her stays.

  “Hmm,” was all she was able to say, and “Ohh!” when his hands brushed over her sensitised skin.

  Chuckling, he flipped the two sides of the stays open. Next he tried to remove both them and her chemise, but as much as she wanted to help him, she couldn’t summon enough strength to lift her arms.

  She couldn’t even lift her eyelids, for heaven’s sake!

  Chuckling once again, he brushed a kiss over her lips. “You really leave me with no other option, Ginny-sweet.”

  She loved the humour she could hear in his voice, loved that she had her own Ash back, the tender, playful, passionate man who only ever emerged in the privacy of their bedroom.

  The next moment, she could feel his hands on the neckline of her chemise and then he ripped the garment straight down the front centre.

  “Ash!” Her eyes popped open; her body shot up.

  He kneeled above her, laughing down at her. He was gloriously naked—when had he managed to shed the rest of his clothes?—and a fine film of sweat covered his body.

  “This woke you up, didn’t it, Ginny-sweet?” His eyes dropped to her body. Abruptly, the laughter vanished. “Ah, Ginny,” he said before he bent to kiss one breast and suckle her nipple until it was hard and aching.

  She fell back onto the pillows. Her arms came around his shoulders. While he ravaged her once again with pleasure, her fingers dug into his firm flesh. Her own flesh suddenly seemed too confining for all that she felt. Surely she would shatter into a million pieces.

  “Please, Ash, please...”

  “Ah, Ginny...” He trailed kisses from her breast to her shoulder, up her neck to her earlobe. He nipped the small piece of tender flesh, making her gasp and arch up against him. She felt his grin as he kissed her cheek. He proceeded to run his tongue over her lips until Georgina had finally enough of this sweet torment and captured his mouth. He kissed her deeply, passionately, and she could feel his big, solid body start to shake.

  She ran her hands over his back, down his sides, loving the feel of sweat-slicked muscles. Her right hand closed around his erection.

  With a groan, he broke the kiss. Breathing hard, he touched his forehead to hers. “You are killing me, Ginny,” he said, his voice ragged.

  Smiling, she let her fingers glide down his length. And while she reacquainted herself with his satiny-smooth hardness, she suddenly remembered her wedding night in the small Cornish inn, the delight she had felt in exploring the desires Ash had awakened inside her. How she had kissed him with abandon on top of a windy cliff with the salty sea air tickling their noses and the screeches of the seagulls and the puffins filling their ears. How she had made him tremble that night as he had let her have her wicked way with him. How his voice had become hoarse with lust and wanting—just like it had now.

  He, who valued his control above everything, had willingly, joyfully surrendered it to her—then and now.

  “I love you, Ash,” she whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

  “Oh god...” His kiss turned almost frantic, his body trembling in her arms. He continued the kiss even he slipped inside her, and their moans mingled and became one. Jerkily, he started to move, lust and passion having stripped away all his grace and refinement.

  Gasping, he came up for air. “Ginny... I can’t... I can’t...” His hips drove against her, hard. He groaned, tried to still. Drops of sweat glistened on his face. He licked his lips. “I can’t be gentle,” he forced out, and shuddered as her inner muscles gripped him tight.

  Georgina lifted her legs to cross them behind him. “It’s all right, Ash.” She kissed his cheek and licked his salty skin. “Take me,” she murmured into his ear, drawing him into a tight embrace.

  With another groan, he completely gave himself over to his desire for. His mouth devoured her as he moved inside her, his movements almost aggressive.

  She revelled in the way he so beautifully lost control and let him sweep her away on a wave of all-consuming passion.

  It was short and frantic, almost over as soon as it had started. But when she reached the pinnacle, it felt as if stars exploded inside her. Her head thrown back against the pillows, she called his name, just as his body jerked and he shouted hers, spilling himself inside her.

  When the tension left his body, he slumped across her and buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. His breaths were short, hot puffs against her skin. She hugged him tightly, enjoying the solid weight of his trembling body, the smell of sweat and sex that surrounded them.

  How she had missed this!

  How she had missed him!

  Her arms tightened around him. “I love you.”

  Chapter 18

  They fell asleep side by side, their arms and legs entangled, their noses almost touching.

  When Georgina woke up several hours later, the sun was already setting and she was stretched across Ash’s chest, her ripped chemise wrapped uncomfortably around her body. She tried to slip out of its remains, but as she moved, Ash stirred. Sleepily, his lids fluttered open. Then he caught sight of her, and for a moment he froze, stopped breathing altogether.

  After several heartbeats, his chest expanded on a deep breath and a sigh. His arm lifted and curved around Georgina’s shoulders, and quite suddenly, his face broke into a blissful smile. “So it wasn’t a dream. You are here.” He drew her head down to kiss her. “I love you,” he eventually said.

  “I love you, too.” Giggling, she patted his hand away as he reached for her breast. “Ash! We need to go downstairs. Everybody will be waiting for us.”

  “More fools they,” he mumbled in between stringing kisses along her upper chest. “Who gives a fig for them anyway?”

  With a laugh, she tried to shake off his imprisoning arms. “We will miss dinner.”

  “To hell with dinner,” he growled, and rolled her underneath him to show her a more pleasurable way to spend the evening.

  In the end, they didn’t make it out of bed until the next morning. Georgina groaned. “Now the whole world knows our business.”

  “Nah. Only the people here at Ashburnham Hall.” Ash admired the red mark he had left on the upper swell of her breast. “You will need to wear a fichu today.” He sounded terribly satisfied with himself.

  As her gaze followed his, she gave a gasp of dismay—which made him break into guffaws of laughter.

  Though she felt her cheeks heat, her embarrassment was mixed with happiness. She felt reborn, as if a night in Ash’s arms had refashioned her body. Looking at him, she saw the same change in him. He glowed with happiness.

  That joyful glow hadn’t even diminished when they met in front of the breakfast parlour a good half-hour later, now properly attired. In
stead of offering her his arm, he took her hand in his, so her fingers were enveloped by his warmth and his strength. He even grinned at the footman who opened the door for them and who valiantly tried to keep an impassive face.

  When they entered the room, four heads swivelled around and four pairs of eyes fastened on them.

  “Mama!” The twins shot to their feet.

  “Where have you been?” Gary asked, his tone almost accusing.

  Georgina could feel a blush warming her cheeks. “We...”

  Guy’s lips lifted in a gently mocking smile. “We tried to explain to your off-spring the concepts of discretion and parental privacy,” he came to her rescue.

  “Without much success, I see,” Ash retorted with a broad grin.

  The two cousins exchanged a long look before Ash gave Guy a nod. “I hope you and Mr. Sherard will stay for a while. I should like to hear how you’ve fared. And”—he pressed Georgina’s fingers—“I should very much like you to perform a special office for me.”

  Guy glanced at Georgina. What he saw on her face, lit up his own face with joy. “We will gladly stay,” he said.

  His young eyes bright and questioning, Finn had followed the exchange. “And you, Mama?” he now asked quietly. “Will you stay?”

  Ash let go of her hand and turned towards her. “Yes, my dear. That is what I wanted to ask you as well: Will you stay?” His eyes were warm, and his mouth curved into a gentle smile, for of course he already knew her answer.

  “Oh yes,” she told him. “I will stay.”

  His smile broadened. Slipping his hands into her hair, he angled her head up for his kiss.

  He kissed her while the others cheered and applauded. He kissed her deeply and with passion and with a complete disregard for decorum and convention. He kissed her until her toes curled in her slippers and a hot flush seemed to swallow up her body.

  He gave a laugh when he noticed, then drew her into a tight embrace as if he would never ever let her go again.