gazed at the sway of her bare, wet breasts. “Lime. Not using these bath salts just because I’m here, are you?”
Maria shook her head, relishing the way he caressed her body. “I am, however, wondering how I’ll ever repay you for all the ways you’ve spoiled me.”
He smiled slyly. “Now that you mention it…” He raised her leg so her foot rested on the tub’s rim, to dry it—but then he sat down and ran his tongue along her inner thigh. When she sighed, Jude tossed the towel. Parted her nether lips and kissed her there.
Maria’s head fell back. She grabbed his shoulders and closed her eyes as the sensations made her need surge to a new peak. To this point, Jude had toyed with her, but now he was determined to make her respond—to make her his. As he lapped the dampness from her sensitive folds, she swayed with the force of his intimate kiss…braced herself for the crack of lightning that made her pulse thunder in her head.
“God, Jude…Jude,” she whimpered as the jolts of pleasure became almost unbearable.
He thrust his tongue inside her, rubbing the nub he knew so well…exploring the depths of her desire as only Jude knew how. Just as the spasms began in earnest he grabbed her backside to steady her. He licked and tickled her rim, driving her to a frenzy before pressing his mouth against her, hard.
Maria cried out. Their moans mingled as Jude kept thrusting, until she felt she might collapse in a boneless heap. Her hips took on their own rhythm until all her spasms were spent. She eased him away then, to regain her sanity, her balance, before stepping out of the tub. “It’s my turn to please you now, but I must catch my breath—”
“Not so. This is my night to give and yours to receive.”
“That makes no sense! Why should I be the only one to—”
“Because I said so!” Jude grabbed her hand, his grin wet with her juices. “On to the next course! Champagne to toast the lady’s wedding day, and fine chocolate to sweeten the deal.”
As Maria followed him to her bedroom, she could only wonder how he’d smuggled such treats upstairs past the ever-vigilant Mrs. Booth. “I could’ve sworn you were empty-handed when I saw you slipping in.”
“Father stocks a fine cellar here at the town house. And since his ships’ captains know better than to sail home without the candy Mum craves…” Jude shrugged boyishly, which made his silk shirt shimmy around his shoulders. “Lean low, my queen. We’ll wrap your hair in this towel and then you may recline on your bed. Your serving boy shall fulfill your every desire.”
Maria chuckled to herself: Jason would never declare himself her servant, nor would he lead her through these circuitous little games to arrive at his own satisfaction. But sprawling on plumped pillows, propped against the headboard naked while a handsome lover poured fizzy champagne into two flutes on a tray? She could grow accustomed to such indulgence!
Jude broke off the end of the dark chocolate bar he’d smuggled in. “Sweets for the sweet,” he murmured. He laid the confection on her tongue, much like a priest would administer communion, and then he placed a piece in his own mouth.
As the intense cocoa melted in their mouths, they gazed at each other. Anticipating. Savoring. Again she was struck by the way this twin appreciated such subtle nuances—and her! When the candy was a coating of thick richness on her tongue, the first sip of the liquor sent a rush of electricity straight to her head. Giggling, she downed the rest of it and held out her flute for more.
Jude chuckled. “Let the festivities begin! A toast to your marriage tomorrow, Maria!”
“And to you, dear man. If I roast in hell for this wickedness, at least I won’t be alone!”
The slender man seated on the bed’s edge began to shed his clothing. While he wasn’t as athletic as his twin, Jude’s whipcord muscles rippled as he dropped his shirt and then escaped his pants. His eyes shone brightly, focused on her…full of his yearning for her. He took the towel from her hair, and from there it was a sensual collage of images: Jude slipping into bed alongside her, caressing her with his velvety skin…chocolate kisses that elevated her pulse, her awareness of how she craved him…how he inspired her playful response even more than their candy and champagne had. Sighs drifted between them as they languidly rolled…as Jude entered her with an expression of exquisite joy she’d never forget.
Maria let her body follow his whims: all rational thought was gone. Their lovemaking took on a special poignancy on this eve of her wedding. He refused to be rushed, so Maria followed his lead in this intimate dance…lingered in each kiss and reveled in the way his golden brown eyes reflected her—and held her spellbound when his climax led to hers.
“Maria…Maria,” he prayed as his body convulsed. When he was spent, he enfolded her in his arms. Rested with his lips in her damp hair until his breathing once again matched hers. “I must go now. Before the urge to carry you off and marry you myself overrides propriety.”
Propriety? She grinned wickedly yet held her tongue. Jude looked so solemn as he dressed, gazing at her in the dimness. Somehow the evening had flown and the candles had gone out without their awareness. With a final kiss, he left her sprawled on the rumpled sheets.
“Sleep sweetly, Maria,” he murmured as he reached her door. “I look forward to making your portrait tomorrow, before your groom sees you in your bridal finery.”
Silently Jude slipped from her room and down the stairs. Her mantel clock tinkled delicately and then struck two.
Maria smiled. It was her long-awaited wedding day.
4
“Not even married yet, and already henpecked, are we?”
“Come on, Darington! Last chance for a wild ride before the noose tightens!”
“And we wouldn’t want to disappoint Miss Beddow, would we? She’s sizing you up, mate, and it’s not just because we’re paying handsomely for this trick! Do the deed, man!”
Jason drew a deep breath to steady his swirling head. While he’d often passed Amelia Beddow’s brothel on the harbor, carrying out business for his father’s shipping empire—and while he was no stranger to ladies of the type she employed—he’d given up sporting women once Maria had claimed him. Who needed whores, when his own woman sated his sexual hunger so exuberantly? With sincere affection for him rather than his money or position. “It’s two o’clock. I really should—”
“Lame! Limp!”
“Never thought you’d refuse a lady. Dare!”
“C’mon, now! It’s early yet! We brought you here to show us how it’s done!”
He blinked to clear his vision, blurry from too many toasts. His three best friends egged him on with their lopsided grins: Daniel Hackett, Nicholas Northwood, and Clive McCaslin, who held the keys to their fathers’ kingdoms in textiles, mining, and banking, had outlasted the others. They’d escorted him to this finale of his bachelorhood with fistfuls of money donated by their cohorts at the gentlemen’s club. There was no denying Amelia Beddow’s intentions, either. The fiery-haired madam sized him up with a knowing smile, letting her lush, loose bosom speak for itself in an indecent gown of emerald silk. A gold tooth winked at him when her ruby lips parted. The tip of her tongue came out to play.
“Well, well, well,” she crooned, advancing with a slow sway of her hips. She remained focused on him as she coyly extended her open palm. Her expression waxed triumphantly feral as Clive handed over his cash. “Why don’t we retire to my quarters while my girls entertain your friends, sir? Your tide’s about to rise, and I wouldn’t miss such an exciting voyage.”
It was so blatant an invitation Jason almost laughed—except he suddenly regretted coming here. What if this little episode got reported to Maria, or—God forbid!—appeared in Miss Crimson’s gossip column in the Inquirer, right alongside the account of the wedding? But when Amelia grabbed his hand there was no backing