Heiress Without a Cause

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Note to readers: this scene continues the romance from Chapter Eighteen. If you'd rather leave Madeleine and Ferguson's bedroom door closed, skip down to the second half of this chapter (after the asterisks) and pick up the story there. Thanks for reading so far - I hope you're enjoying it!

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Ferguson felt the resolve in her fingers, heard the need in her voice, saw the way her eyes focused with fascinated greed on his manhood. He had even tasted how much she wanted him, drenched with desire and already opening for him.

But he couldn't deflower an innocent, no matter how much she wanted him to - or how much his cock ached for her.

He rose to a kneeling position on the bed, still between her legs, his hand extended since she refused to let him go. "Mad, I won't ruin you, regardless of what we want."

She sat up, her legs spread wide around his thighs, uninhibited by her nakedness. "What you did to me was the most pleasurable experience I've felt in my entire life," she said, reaching up to pull his lips toward hers. "If that is what it means to be ruined, then I accept my fate."

He allowed her to kiss him, knowing it was suicide but unable to deny the temptation. She was still inexperienced, but her wild enthusiasm made up for her artlessness. His past mistresses were well versed in giving a man pleasure - but he had never been harder than he was at this moment.

She was going to kill him. He groaned and pulled away, grabbing her shoulders with his hands so she could not follow. "Ruin doesn't just mean a quick fuck and a bit of pleasure," he said, harsher than he meant to be. "Ruin means being cast out of society. Ruin means destroying your life, destroying your family. It may even mean raising a bastard child who will be punished for your mistakes. I sincerely doubt you are willing to accept any of that."

Madeleine set her jaw, and he knew that he was lost. "I am acting on a public stage, pretending to be your mistress, and at constant risk of someone with half a brain recognizing me. All it takes is a moment, and I will suffer the exact fate you so kindly predicted. And if I'm not ruined, I will grow old as Alex's spinster dependent, with nothing but memories of these few weeks to feel like there was a reason why I lived."

Her green eyes filled with tears, and before he could think, he brushed her hair away from her eyes. "Don't pity me," she snapped.

"I feel many things toward you, but pity isn't among them," he retorted. "You are the bravest, maddest, most beautiful creature I've ever seen, and why you think you are destined to be a spinster, I will never know."

She started to deny his words. He shook her shoulders. "If you truly want me to take you, I will. But after tonight, you will never again claim that you are meant to grow old alone. Is that clear?"

She met his gaze straight on, her tears replaced by a need that scorched his soul. "I want to believe you. Show me, Ferguson."

He kissed her, his mouth devouring hers as though he could brand her, as though he could make her feel his intentions in their kiss.

She kissed him back, and he lost himself in her. He wanted to touch all of her at once, and his hands were everywhere - kneading her breast, sliding down her spine, skimming across the cleft of her derriere, gripping her hair to pull her deeper into his kiss. She was writhing in his arms, and he could feel the tension building in her body. This was the kind of passion one might go a whole lifetime without ever finding - and he felt a savage thrill at the thought of making her his.

He stopped his exploration of her body only to unbutton his trousers. Without breaking their kiss, he fumbled until the cloth fell away and his manhood sprang forth, the tip already moist. The need to bury himself inside her was urgent, unstoppable - only his rapidly evaporating control kept him from slamming into her like a beast.