Page 18 of Tempting Harriet
He kissed her lightly, warmly, while she accustomed herself to the feel of him, hard against the entrance to her. He did not move immediately inside.
“Archie.” Her voice sounded high-pitched. It did not sound quite like her own. She loved him. She had alwaysloved him. She wanted it with love. Not like this. Shewanted him to love her. She wondered fleetingly what hewould say if she told him she loved him, and pressed herlips back against his lest she should do the unthinkable andsay it aloud.
“At last.” He had raised himself on his forearms and was looking down into her eyes, his own liquid silver, heavywith passion. “At last, after six long years, Harriet.”
He pressed into her so slowly that at first she was able to control her panic. His eyes held hers. But when he camedeep and deeper, she bit her lower lip and cringed awayfrom his penetration. He stopped.
“All the way, Harriet,” he commanded. “Give it all to me, my dear.”
And so she closed her eyes and relaxed beneath him and allowed him all the way in. It was a moment she recognizedfor what it was. Surrender. Surrender of her virtue, of whathad always been one of her most firmly held values. Surrender of herself. To the man whose mistress she hadagreed to become until they tired of each other.Until I joinmy body to yours, nothing is irreversible, he had said. Noweverything was irreversible.
“Beautiful,” he said when she opened her eyes again. “As beautiful inside as out, Harriet. Hot and wet. But youare realizing that you have done something irrevocable, areyou not? Your eyes look stricken. I’ll make it good foryou—this time and all the other times we will meet here. Ipromise. Close your eyes and let me lo—. Let me make itgood for you.”
He took her hands, crossed them at the wrist above her head, laced his fingers with hers, and lowered most of hisweight onto her; setting his cheek against her hair. Andthen he began to move in her and to keep his promise sothat after a couple of minutes she was mindless with needand with pain that hovered on the brink of pleasure and thatsuddenly spilled over the brink, bringing her a pleasure sointense that it was unbearable, and then was replaced by asense of peace so unexpected that she felt all energy, allwill to live beyond the moment, drain out of her.
He held deep in her while she settled with a sigh into the peace and then drove to his own climax as she held him,loving him more tenderly than she had ever loved before.Except perhaps for the moment when Susan had burst fromher womb. She did not fight the fact that the two loves mingled in the same thought, that her two worlds came suddenly and quite unexpectedly together.
“Well, Harriet,” he said several minutes later, having uncoupled them and moved to her side. His arm was about her, holding her against him.
“Well, Archie.” She set her face against his chest, heavy with drowsiness.Don't say anything more,she begged himsilently.Don’t ask how it was. Don’t ask if it was pleasurable. She did not want to be reminded yet that it had beenpleasure, not love. She did not want to remember that shewas mistress, not wife.
But he tucked her more snugly against him, kissed the top of her head, and said no more. She relaxed gratefullyagainst him and marveled at how she could be thinking only of sleep after such a very carnal experience.
And sleep she did, she realized with surprise only when she was waking up again some time later. She was not waking of her own accord. His hand was on her breast, and hernipple was coming to life between the light squeezing ofhis finger and thumb. His tongue was moving lazily acrossthe seam of her lips. She opened her eyes and looked intohis.
“Again?” she said and wished even as the word was passing her lips that she could have swallowed it. His eyestwinkled into hers with lazy amusement and he chuckled.
“We will make regular appointments for twice a week, I believe,” he said. “Once a week would quite frankly not beenough, yet more than twice would court detection andscandal. Twice a week is going to seem woefully inadequate, especially while we are still new to each other. Don’tyou agree? But we must be sensible. If we are to have eachother only twice a week, then, we must make the most ofeach encounter. We will have to curtail the sleeping asmuch as possible so that we may enjoy each other two orthree times. Agreed?”
Twice. Orthreetimes? It did not seem possible. She had never thought of it as a possibility. He was going to haveher again? And perhaps again after that?
“Yes,” she said.
And she found that it was indeed possible. And equally pleasurable. And a third time too, so closely following thesecond that they did not even uncouple between times. Lifeas a mistress, Harriet realized, her face against his dampchest after it was all over, was vastly different from life as awife. She was too exhausted to explore those differences.
He dressed beside the bed while she dressed at the other side of the room. He had seen her hesitate and then seem todecide that it would be pointless modesty to take herclothes into the dressing room. She stood with her back tohim.
He watched her as he dressed. Harriet. Small and neat and beautiful. No longer a mystery to him. Known. Hisbody felt the languor and satisfaction of its knowledge. No longer the pure, unattainable little Harriet of his dreams.She was his mistress. She had become very thoroughly soduring the past hour and a half.
He wondered if she would still be his mistress if she had accepted his offer six years ago. He had never kept a mistress for longer than eight months. Six years? He surelywould have tired of her long ago. By now she would be forgotten. Not just in his past but forgotten. He could not remember either the names or faces of the women with whomhe had taken his pleasure six or even five years ago.
With any luck, if they kept their twice weekly appointments and if he worked her hard enough during those encounters, as he had today, he would have her out of his system by the end of the Season. She was just a woman,when all was said and done, with whose beautiful body hisown would become sated through frequent and vigoroususe. He was glad he had not proposed marriage to her. Shewas not close enough to his world for any satisfactory relationship to be a reasonable expectation. She had saved himfrom making the biggest and most disastrous mistake of hislife.
He had had her and he was satisfied. Very satisfied. There were a good number of weeks left during which hecould get his fill of her. But he was a little disappointed,nevertheless. He would admit it to himself now. He had justbedded the mistress who had satisfied him more than anyother he could remember, perhaps more than anyone evenif he could remember all. And he had a great deal more tolook forward to. But he felt as if he had lost something too.Someone. Harriet. She was not the person he had thoughther. He strode across the room to help her with the top buttons of her dress.
“Thank you,” she said, turning after he had finished and looking up at him. Her face was flushed, not with a blush,but with the aftermath of vigorous sex.
God, when she looked at him like that, all wide beautiful eyes, she was Harriet all over again. And the remainingweeks seemed terrifyingly short.
‘Twice a week will suit you?” he asked, drawing mentally back from her and hearing in some surprise the cold businesslike tone of his voice.
“Yes, Archie,” she said.
“Mondays and Thursdays, then,” he said. “The same time?”
“Yes.”
“We will have to protect your reputation,” he said. “And mine too since 1 am courting another lady and it would bediscourteous to her to have this liaison become publicknowledge. I will have my carriage pick you up each time,but not always in the same place.. We will arrange eachtime where it is to meet you the next time. Will that be suitable?”
