A moon larger than any I had ever seen lit my path to the gardens that night, its illumination guiding me across the estate grounds as if it somehow approved of my destination. I moved quickly, not at all reluctant to leave the ball or the mindless chatter associated with such an event. It was all about the latest marriage or scandal, the newest sensation amongst the debutantes, and the decreasing list of eligible—meaning rich and titled—bachelors.
I cared nothing for such talk. Being firmly on the shelf and not at all inclined to change my state, I found the endless talk of husband hunting and gossip beyond tiresome. I could not wait to make my escape. Honestly, if I heard, “Jane, you must consider your future,” one more time, I would lose my will to live. I had already considered my future, and though some would see it as bleak, I had made my choice.
As soon as the orchestra recessed, I slipped away, into the cool night and away from the stuffy confines of a high-society event.
I entered the gardens and wandered toward the fountain, taking pleasure in the soft rumble of the water as it moved from tier to tier. It sparkled, seemingly lit from within. Its gentle dance enchanted me, drawing all of my attention until a strong set of male hands slid from behind me to cup my breasts—familiar hands that did not cause me a moment of fear. My body knew them well; my heart worshipped the man attached to them.
“John,” I whispered, leaning back against the comforting warmth of his chest.
“Good evening, my love,” he said. “Has no one told you that you shouldn’t be walking alone in the gardens at night?”
I grinned and turned to face him. My eyes roamed over his beloved face. It was the face I had loved since childhood, the face I looked into as he held out a hand to help me up after I skinned my knees, and the face I saw above me the first time I experienced passion.
“But I am not alone,” I said now in answer to his question.
“Hmm, I suppose you are right.” He lowered his head to capture my lips and I experienced the same internal melting I did every time he touched me.
He broke the kiss and smiled again, but it did nothing to dampen the glitter of lust in his eyes as he trailed his fingers along the line of my bodice, dipping into one side to caress my nipple. I groaned and leaned forward, eager for his touch.
He pulled his hand away and placed one finger over his lips as he urged me toward a line of hedges. Behind it, a marble bench surrounded by greenery provided a small degree of privacy. It was enough for me, and apparently for John as well, since he all but dragged me to the chilly stone seat. He sat and pulled me onto his lap, my legs parted on either side of his body.
His hardened cock strained against his breeches and I ground against it, already desperate for release, my body aflame as he pulled down my bodice and exposed my breasts to the chilly air. My nipples hardened and he took first one, then the other into his mouth, tugging on them with his lips and teeth, driving me mad.
I reached down between us to unbutton his breeches, grasped his warm flesh and slid from his lap to rest on my knees between his legs. I needed to taste him. I needed to stoke the same mad lust within him that he brought forth in me. He was known amongst the ton as a man of iron will and legendary control. He never lost his temper, never even raised his voice. He was often accused of being cold—aloof, even—, which was likely part of the reason I loved to get him so hot he couldn’t hold himself apart from me if he wanted to.
He groaned and tangled his fingers in my hair as I closed my lips around his cock. I teased the swollen head with my tongue, tasting the drops of salty cream already emerging from the slit. Another groan urged me on, and I took him deep, pulling as much of his shaft as I could into my mouth. His hands clenched on either side of my head as he began to fuck my mouth. I could feel him tremble as he neared orgasm, his near-surrender feeding my frenzy as I licked and sucked with abandon. I wanted him to lose control. I wanted him desperate to fuck me.
He pulled back, grasping my shoulders and dragging me back onto his lap.
“No more.” His breath was harsh against my neck, his words a strangled whisper “I want to be inside of you.”
I did not argue, nearly screaming in delicious agony as I wrapped my legs around him once more and he entered me in one rough stroke. He grabbed my hips with both hands and moved me up and down on his cock, slowly at first. I tried to undulate against him and quickly bring myself to release, but he would not allow it. He held tight, moderating the pace. But I could feel the tremors running through him.
I stared into his face, our eyes locked as I watched him struggle to hold on to that signature control. I exploded just as I watched him lose his battle, driving into me with frenzied abandon.
As our breathing slowly returned to normal and the gentle night sounds closed in around us, I rested fully against him, spent and quite unable to move. He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. The gesture was comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. A sinking filled my abdomen and grief nearly choked me.
How would I ever be able to let him go?
I rested my forehead against his chest, suddenly distraught and hoping the smooth dark fabric of his jacket would hide all traces of my tears. I could not reach up to wipe them away or he would know of my misery.
I should have known I could not hide anything from him. He placed two fingers beneath my chin and gently urged me to look at him. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut one last time, hoping to chase away all tearful remnants. Perhaps he wouldn’t be able to see the streaks on my face in the dark.
But the moon I had so loved earlier now betrayed my misery. When I met his gaze it was troubled, filled with love for me, which only made me want to cry more.
“So you have not changed your mind?”
I shook my head. “I cannot.”
He sighed. “Will not is more like it. Stubborn woman that you are.”
I slid from his lap, away from the warmth and comfort his body provided. “Fine. I will not allow you to give up so much for me.”
“None of that matters—”
“It does matter. Your honor is everything to you, and if you break the betrothal contract your parents arranged, that honor is tarnished.”
He gripped my shoulders, his expression tortured. “You speak of honor and how important it is to me, but where is the honor in leaving you? After everything I have taken from you, how could I simply walk away?”
“You have taken nothing. I gave myself to you, and believe me I knew the consequences of my actions. Your marriage has been arranged since we were children. We both knew this day would come, and our relationship would have to end.”
“What if I were to speak with Lord Marbury? Perhaps he would release me from the contract if I told him…”
I laughed. “Told him what? That you have been fucking your father’s ward since we were barely out of the schoolroom?”
His brows drew together and his eyes narrowed at my coarse language. “You say that as if you were some sort of low-born tramp and I was engaging in sexually deviant acts with a child.”
“We were children. And I was under your father’s care.”
“We did not live together for long since I was usually away at school, and we were sixteen when we first made love. I would hardly consider that children.”
“So you would fuck a girl of that age now?”
“Absolutely not! And will you please stop saying fuck?”
I smiled, pleased that I had finally drawn his attention away from painful subjects. Besides, I loved it when his inner aristocrat came out and he got all stuffy. Our sex games were a lot more fun when he fought his urge to get dirty.
I scooted closer to him, trailing one finger down the center of his chest. “Why?”
He grabbed my hand. “Why what?”
“Why wouldn’t you fuck a girl of sixteen? A lot of men your age do, or so I’m told.”
If possible, his expression grew even more appalled. But then he smiled. “You’re trying to distract me.”
I pouted. “How could you say such a thing? I thought we were having a nice conversation.”
“No you didn’t. I know you too well, Jane.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He brought my hand to his lips, and then moved it down to cover his cock. “And you also know me well enough to know that I don’t want to fuck anyone but you.”
“Ah, but you have.”
He leaned forward, trailing kisses along my jaw until he settled on the sensitive area just below my ear. Erotic chills assaulted my body, and his voice was thick when he spoke. “Never without you, my love.”
“Really? Then how do you explain all the marvelous… tricks you picked up in France?”
“I was purely an observer. You can learn a lot by watching.” He moved his hand to my slit, teasing me for a moment, running his fingers along the seam before penetrating my folds to find my swollen clit. I moaned and massaged his cock, circling it at the shaft, pulling upward, then teasing the tip.
“Mmm…I imagine you can.”
John smiled, a small tilt of his lips that I had come to love so much. “Would you like another demonstration?”
“Need you ask?”
His smile grew as he moved from my side to kneel between my legs. I could barely contain my sounds of pleasure as he proceeded to show me exactly what he had learned through is powers of observation. | 
