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He stood up abruptly. ‘Take down your hair and then we shall sit on the chaise together.’
Julianna turned in surprise to look at the red velvet chaise in the window. ‘Was there not a beautiful Japanese screen here yesterday?’ she asked uncertainly as she removed the pins from her hair and allowed it to fall silkily about her shoulders.
‘It was damaged,’ Marcus dismissed.
‘That is a pity.’
‘Yes,’ he acknowledged as he took her hand in his uninjured one to accompany her over to the chaise, waiting until she was primly seated upon its edge, her back defensively straight, before lowering his long length to sit beside her, their thighs almost touching.
Almost.
Because, much as it physically pained him to be in this continuous state of arousal, Marcus was enjoying these private times with Julianna too much to wish them over too soon. He intended to use every advantage he had, in the short time she had allotted to him, not only to instruct her in an appreciation of the pleasures of the flesh but also to try to captivate Julianna himself.
He lowered his head toward her throat, breathing deeply. ‘Your perfume is of roses again today,’ he murmured huskily. ‘And something else,’ he added curiously.
Julianna trembled slightly even as she felt the bloom of warmth in her cheeks as she easily guessed that other perfume to be the arousal deepening between her thighs. An arousal she knew was caused not only by Marcus’s close proximity but also by thoughts of having to touch herself in front of him.
‘Julianna?’ Marcus prompted huskily as he saw the fevered glitter that had appeared in those dark grey eyes.
She avoided meeting his gaze. ‘I—could we please hurry? As I said, I have another appointment. Marcus?’ she said sharply as he placed a hand beneath her chin and turned her flushed face toward his.
‘Something has happened.’ Marcus looked down at her searchingly, noting those fevered eyes, the flush to her cheeks, the redness of her pouting lips. ‘Tell me, Julianna.’ His hands lightly grasped the tops of her arms as he refused to allow her to turn away from him. ‘Tell me, damn it!’ He shook her slightly.
‘I—I cannot!’ she said on a sob, head bowed. ‘I—it is too shameful. Too embarrassing! I should not have—I cannot say it!’ she gasped on another sob.
What on earth?
Marcus stilled as he contemplated those over-bright eyes for several more seconds, the flush to her cheeks, the pouting and aroused lips, and the way the fullness of the tops of her breasts pressed up and over her gown, as if bursting to be free. ‘Ah,’ he finally murmured with satisfaction. ‘Perhaps part of our lesson today is superfluous?’
She raised startled eyes. ‘What?’
Marcus smiled slightly. ‘Tell me, Julianna, did you perhaps touch between your thighs last night, breathe in the perfume of your arousal, as I had suggested you would do for me today?’
‘No!’ Her face paled slightly as she pushed against his chest in an attempt to pull away, breathing heavily as she failed to free herself. ‘I—yes! Yes, I—I touched myself!’ she admitted as she glared up at him heatedly, challengingly. ‘It was your fault!’ she continued defensively. ‘All your talk of arousal and... Yesterday evening, after I had bathed, I looked at myself in a mirror, at my nakedness, and then—then I touched my breasts, and the moisture you spoke of gathered between my thighs, and ... and ...’
‘And?’ Marcus encouraged her.
‘And I am ashamed of what I did! So ashamed!’ She broke off with a wail as she collapsed against his chest and cried in earnest.
Marcus took her into his arms, allowing her tears. While he stroked the length of her spine, he enjoyed the sensation of having Julianna cling to him, of knowing that he had been responsible for Julianna’s arousal yesterday evening. ‘And did you like it, pet?’
‘Too much!’ She trembled at the admission.
‘One can never like physical pleasure too much, Julianna,’ Marcus chuckled huskily.
‘No?’ She sounded uncertain.
‘No,’ he assured her softly. ‘Did you breathe in your own unique perfume?’
‘Yes!’
‘And did that arouse you even more? Enough so that you stroked yourself there?’
‘S-stroked myself?’ Her voice was muffled against his chest, but he could hear her shock nevertheless.
‘Did your pleasure increase as you touched yourself? Did you climax?’
‘Yes. Yes. I don’t—’ She burrowed her hot face closer against his chest. ‘No, I do not think I climaxed.’
Marcus chuckled again. ‘You would remember it if you had. Are you wet now, Julianna? The truth now,’ he warned as he felt her hesitation.
Julianna groaned softly in her throat as she felt her desire grow just talking to Marcus in this way, having him so close to her, breathing in the warmth of lemon and sandalwood that was so uniquely him. ‘Are you not shocked?’ She frowned as she looked up to find him looking at her with curiosity rather than condemnation. ‘Disgusted, at least, at my having behaved so—so shamefully?’
He gave a shake of his head. ‘I believe I feel pride more than anything, in knowing that our short time together has broken down your previous inhibitions so readily. I am not in the least shocked or disgusted by your behaviour, Julianna,’ he assured her huskily. ‘Rather, I should like to have been there, to have been allowed to watch you.’
She blinked. ‘You would?’
He nodded. ‘It would have aroused me to do so.’
‘Sight...’ she breathed softly, wonderingly.
‘Yes. That you now know some of the pleasure of your own body is a natural process, pet,’ he explained as she still frowned her uncertainty. ‘And a necessary one, too, if you are to help guide a partner into also learning what pleases you.’
It was all too much for Julianna to take in. Far too much, after the things she had already revealed to Marcus today, and when her body trembled and ached with heated arousal just being close to him in this way, able to feel his hard strength beneath her cheek and against her sensitive breasts, to breathe him in.
‘You said my—my actions yesterday only rendered part of our lesson today superfluous?’ she reminded softly.
He nodded. ‘You have still to learn of a man’s...musk.’
Julianna’s gaze instantly moved lower, the lengthy throb so clearly visible between Marcus’s thighs telling her of his arousal. ‘Now?’ she breathed softly. Curiously. Eagerly.
Marcus released her to lean back against the chaise, giving her easier access to the buttons fastening the sides of his pantaloons. ‘Right now,’ he said throatily.
Chapter Seven
Marcus’s erection surged up thick and long, and his heart began to beat a loud and wild tattoo in his chest as Julianna’s hands moved tentatively, and then more surely, to unfasten the buttons of his pantaloons.
And again he worried that, after wanting her, desiring her, loving her for so long, he wouldn’t be able to retain control over the increasingly desperate need he felt to make love to her completely.
The last thing Marcus wanted to do was hurt Julianna, frighten her with the depth of the passion he felt for her, as that bastard Armitage had so obviously hurt and frightened her in their marriage with his coldness and brutality.
‘Marcus?’
Damn it, he could see by the uncertainty of Julianna’s expression, as she hesitated about folding down the flap of his pantaloons that would bare him to her completely, that she was already doubting the wisdom of her actions, that if he did not do something, say something soon to alleviate that uncertainty, she might cut and run. Perhaps, this time, forever.
Her next words confirmed it. ‘If you would rather we put an end to our bargain now, I believe I have learnt enough to—’
‘I have no intention of putting an end to our bargain!’ he bit out, instantly regretting that hardness as he saw the way in which she flinched. ‘We made an agreement, Julianna,’ he reminded evenly. ‘And I am not about to renege on that. I hesitate only because—I know you have been married, Julianna, but the things you have said of that marriage have not... Have you even seen a man naked?’
‘Not John, certainly.’ She raised her chin determinedly at the enormity of her admission, at what it must tell Marcus of that loveless marriage. ‘But I saw my brother, Christian, in his drawers often when we swam together as children—’
‘I said a man, Julianna. Nor was I referring to his chest,’ Marcus added dryly.
Colour blazed in her cheeks. ‘I—then no, no, I have never seen a man naked.’
Marcus breathed deeply. ‘Or aroused?’
‘No.’ Her eyes were now wide grey pools of anticipation.
‘But you would like to?’
‘I—’ She moistened her lips with that little pink tip of her tongue.
A tongue Marcus longed, ached, to feel against his aroused flesh. Just to think of it, imagine it, was enough to cause his cock to throb.
‘Yes,’ she breathed softly. ‘I believe I should very much like to see you aroused, Marcus....’
His breath left him in a shaky sigh of relief. ‘Then do so, Julianna,’ he encouraged. ‘Fold back the flap of my pantaloons and look your fill,’ he invited gruffly.
Julianna’s breath caught in her throat as she slowly did as he instructed. Her eyes widened as she looked at the length of his arousal, which jutted up thick and strong from the thatch of dark curls between his thighs, engorged veins running along the length of the pulsing shaft, the bulbous tip glistening with moisture.
She found it impossible to look away from the beauty and the power of Marcus’s arousal. ‘I—will you touch it or shall I?’ she breathed longingly.
‘You do it,’ he encouraged hoarsely, hands clenching into fists at his sides.
It was not exactly what they had decided upon yesterday, but Julianna was only too eager to reach out and touch that burgeoning length, instantly surprised by how silky the skin over that hard and pulsing flesh was, only vaguely aware of the way Marcus’s breath hitched in his throat as she wrapped the fingers of both hands around his length, a length that seemed to grow even longer and thicker in her encircling fingers. A bead of moisture escaped from the slit at the top, before it was joined by another, and then another, until it dribbled down that length to dampen the back of her hand.
Fascinated, Julianna was too enthralled to feel embarrassed by this depth of intimacy as she brought that hand beneath her nose, breathing in deeply, the scent a pleasing and arousing mixture of earthiness and an underlying sweetness. Was this the ‘musk’ Marcus had spoken of?
‘It is the lubrication that is needed, along with your own, in order to make penetration easier,’ Marcus murmured gruffly.
And not the painful business it had always been with John, Julianna instantly recognized. Because her husband had not taken the time to prepare her. Even on their wedding night he had just climbed into bed beside her, pushed up her night rail and pushed himself inside her, ripping through the thin barrier of her virginity, and eventually grunting his release, before leaving her.
A cold and painful introduction to the marriage bed.
And John’s member had been nowhere near as—as long as Marcus’s, or as thick, meaning it would surely take more than just their mutual arousal in order for Marcus to penetrate her without causing that same pain.
But Marcus had not expressed a wish to penetrate her. By showing her these things, teaching her, he was merely fulfilling his part of the blackmail she had practiced upon him, nothing more. This blatant evidence of his arousal was how any man would react to having a young woman fondling him so intimately.
Julianna released him abruptly before sitting back, only to stare down in fascination as that hard shaft pulsed eagerly upward while more liquid escaped the glistening bulbous tip.
‘He is asking for more,’ Marcus drawled ruefully, reluctantly refastened his pantaloons as he realized, as far as Julianna was concerned, this particular ‘lesson’ was over and he would have to deal with the results of that lesson himself once Julianna had gone.
‘“He”?’ Julianna echoed curiously.
Marcus nodded. ‘Most men refer to their genitalia as a separate entity—probably because it has a will, a determination, completely separate from the logic of a man’s brain!’
Which meant it was only Marcus’s cock that had just reacted to her touch, Julianna accepted heavily, not Marcus himself. No doubt it could penetrate her, too, take its pleasure, and feel none of the regret in the act the man—Marcus—most assuredly would. Because, she reminded herself fiercely, Marcus was only doing these things, allowing these intimacies, because she had forced him into it. He did not care for her personally, had no real interest in making love to her. And he was probably longing to be rid of both her and her ridiculous demand to be taught how to make love to a man.
Julianna, on the other hand, had realized these past few days how much she desired Marcus in particular.
Not just desired him but loved him.
Had she always loved him?
Certainly since the night of her eighteenth birthday, when he had danced the waltz with her at Almack’s, flirted with her, flattered her, before returning to his regiment just days later to resume fighting against Napoleon’s army. Julianna had mooned about for weeks afterwards, foolishly hoping that night had meant something to Marcus, too. That he might have fallen in love with her.
Foolish, foolish hopes that had ended in heartbreak and hurt pride once she’d learnt that Marcus had rejoined his regiment without so much as speaking with her again. It was that same injured pride that had caused her to then accept Lord John Armitage’s marriage proposal; at least there was a man who wanted her, she had consoled herself. Her brother had been home on leave recovering from an injury at the time, and it had seemed the ideal thing for her to marry before he had to return to his regiment.
It was only now, during these past few days of being with Marcus so intimately, that Julianna had realized her insistence on an immediate wedding four years ago had been because she had hated the thought of Marcus returning to England and perhaps guessing that she was pining away with unrequited love for him.
She had hoped by marrying John that she would get over her love for Marcus. Instead, she had merely buried her love for him in the deep recesses of her heart. She had never loved John—how could she when it had been Marcus, the man who had unknowingly held her heart in his elegant hands, whom she loved?
Whom she still loved.
What a fool she had been not to recognize this before now!
Because Marcus must surely despise her now, after she had blackmailed him into sharing such shocking intimacies with her these past three days, in order to prepare her for a future with other men.
Chapter Eight
‘Julianna?’ Marcus prompted with increasing unease for her silence and the faraway look in those grey, unfocused eyes.
He didn’t feel the least reassured as she stood up abruptly before crossing the room to stand beside the fireplace, the soft curtain of her hair hiding her face as she turned away from him. ‘I should never ... This is wrong. I was wrong to force you to do this,’ she added firmly, shoulders stiff above the rigidity of her spine. ‘I apologize for—for... You should know I would never have gone to Lord Standish and told him of your—your involvement with his wife, before their marriage.’
‘I am gratified to hear it,’ he murmured softly.
Tears glistened in those beautiful grey eyes as she lifted her head to face him, her cheeks pale. ‘I sincerely apologize, Marcus, beg your forgiveness for having forced you—’ She gave a shake of her head, her hair like a living flame as it flowed down about her shoulders and over the swell of her breasts. ‘I can only hope that my scandalous behaviour these past three days has not in any way affected your long-standing friendship with my brother.’
‘Not in the least,’ Marcus reassured her gruffly, wary of what she was going to say next.
‘But your poor hand—’
‘My “poor hand”, as you call it, was injured before Christian and I sparred together in the boxing ring yesterday,’ he assured her.
Her gaze sharpened. ‘It was?’
‘Yes.’ Marcus stood up, realizing that it was Julianna’s intention to call an end to their arrangement, and that the time for prevarication was over. ‘I put my fist through the Japanese screen after you left me yesterday, hence it becoming “damaged”.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Accidentally?’
‘No,’ he answered her honestly. ‘After our conversation yesterday I could not bear the thought—’ He broke off, choosing his next words carefully. ‘I was angry, furiously so, at thoughts of how you must have suffered all those years at Armitage’s hands.’
‘It was not all John’s fault—’
‘Yes, it was, damn it!’ he bit out fiercely.
‘No,’ she insisted quietly. ‘I did not love him any more than he loved me. I ... Perhaps if I had—’
‘John Armitage preferred the company of whores to that of a wife, and the looser their morals the better!’ Marcus bit out grimly, having no intention of allowing Julianna to take the blame for her unhappy marriage. ‘His tastes were...unusual.’
Her brows rose. ‘In what way?’
‘I would rather not—’
‘In what way, Marcus?’ Juliana persisted firmly.
‘In the way of his preferring to—to share his bed with more than one person.’ He scowled darkly.
Her face grew even paler. ‘I don’t understand.’
Marcus drew in a deep, controlling breath. ‘Man, or woman, Armitage had no preference as to which as long as it added to his entertainment.’ His gaze sharpened. ‘He did not ever ask you to—’
‘No,’ Julianna assured hastily, feeling ill as she thought of those increasingly rare nights when John had come to her bed—perhaps straight from the arms of his lovers? Perhaps he had even needed that stimulation before he was able to come to her bed at all.
Her nausea deepened at the thought. ‘And I had thought his lack of interest in me to be because I was... because I was not desirable.’
Marcus almost laughed at such a nonsensical notion. Almost. Because he could see from Julianna’s pained expression, and the shadows in her eyes, how she had suffered because of Armitage’s indifference to her. ‘You were, and still are, a lady, Julianna, and a very desirable one. And Armitage’s sexual preferences were founded in the gutter.’
She blinked. ‘H—How do you know these things?’
‘I overheard him talking one night in a gaming club almost four years ago, not long after you were married,’ Marcus revealed reluctantly. ‘He was bragging of his sexual preferences. I—it disgusted me to the point that I—’ He broke off abruptly, hands clenched at his sides at the memory—the shameful memory—of what else had almost happened that night.
‘I—that is—almost four years ago, you say?’ Julianna realized softly. ‘Is it possible you heard this conversation the night before Emily Proctor was to marry Lord Standish?’
Marcus stilled. ‘Perhaps...’
‘Was it?’ Julianna persisted determinedly.
‘Yes!’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw.
She looked up at him searchingly. ‘Marcus?’
He turned away to walk across and stare sightlessly out of his study window, unable to withstand that penetrating gaze a moment longer. ‘You should know, I did not...agree to our arrangement these past few days because you blackmailed me, Julianna.’
Julianna stared at the uncompromising set of Marcus’s shoulders, the stiffness of his spine beneath the flowing white shirt, wondering if she had misunderstood him, if it were not merely wishful thinking on her part that she thought he might care for her.
Whatever the outcome of this conversation, Julianna knew that there were things between them that needed to be said, and that if they were not said now they might never be.
Her pride dictated that she not open herself up for the same rejection she had suffered in her marriage. At the same time, the memory of the difficulties she had placed herself in the last time she let pride dictate her actions mocked that reluctance. There must be truth between the two of them now, even if that truth resulted in her humiliation. Surely, after these past three days, she owed Marcus that much, at least.
She drew in a deep breath before speaking softly. ‘And I have realized these past few days that I did not blackmail you, and only you, because of a sudden need for sexual knowledge.’
Marcus turned slowly, eyes searching the pale calm of Julianna’s face. ‘Then why did you?’ he finally asked.
She smiled ruefully. ‘Forgive me, but even I had not realized my true reasons until a few minutes ago.’ She closed her eyes briefly as she gave a shake of her head. ‘Do you even remember that night all those years ago when you danced a waltz with me at Almack’s?’
He nodded. ‘It was the night of your eighteenth birthday. You looked... you were so beautiful that night, Julianna, that just to look at you took my breath away.’
‘I fell in love that night,’ she revealed softly.
He scowled. ‘With Armitage? I do not remember seeing you with him—’
‘You were the one I fell in love with that night, Marcus,’ Julianna corrected him softly, having no intention, after the things she had learnt today, of so much as mentioning her deceased husband’s name ever again. He was the past, and it was only the future that concerned her now. With or without Marcus in it.
She could never love another as she now realized she loved Marcus, as she had always loved him, but if he did not want her then she would at least know that she had told him of the feelings she had for him, before she had to leave him to find what future she could without him.
She straightened her shoulders determinedly as she looked steadily across the room at Marcus. ‘I loved you then, I have loved you every day since, and I love you still. I say this not because I expect you to be able to say the same to me,’ she added hurriedly as Marcus looked stunned by her words. ‘But because I have wronged you these past three days, have made demands upon you which must have shocked and dismayed you—’
‘Did you listen to anything I said to you earlier, Julianna?’ Marcus demanded impatiently as he quickly crossed the room to her side, coming to a halt just inches in front of her as he looked down at her. ‘I am neither shocked nor dismayed. And I only allowed you to believe you had blackmailed me into teaching you of lovemaking, when in reality I never laid so much as a finger on Emily Proctor.’
Julianna started. ‘She lied?’
‘She lied.’ He nodded as he reached down to take both of Julianna’s hands in his. ‘I could not—I did not want her. Not even when the woman I really wanted, the woman I ached for, wanted, was in love with, was denied to me. You were denied to me, Julianna,’ he revealed.
She gasped softly, wonderingly. ‘Me?’
‘You,’ he repeated firmly. ‘I fell in love with you the night of your eighteenth birthday, possibly even before that, but that was the night I realized my true feelings for you. But in my arrogance I believed it best that I wait until the war with Napoleon was over before coming to you and declaring my love for you, that it was unfair to you to do otherwise, when I might make you a widow so soon after becoming a bride. You married Armitage in my absence.’ He gave a humourless smile at the irony of events.
Julianna could barely breathe as she listened to Marcus telling her of how he had realized his love for her on the very same night she had acknowledged to herself the deep love she felt for him. ‘I believed, when you went back to war without seeing me again, that you did not want me, and that I would never become a bride at all if I did not accept John’s offer when it was made. But all the time, all these years, it was you I loved, Marcus. You I wanted to be with. As I want to be with you now. Fully and completely,’ she added breathlessly. ‘As your lover—’