Now she could not stop thinking about it.
Forcing her eyes to open, Isabel stared at the mirror and watched herself writhe between his skilled hands and hard body. At that moment she hated herself, hated seeing an echo of the girl she had been almost a decade ago, helpless in the grip of a desire skillfully crafted for a man’s pleasure.
Gray’s arms tightened, pinning her tightly to his chest. His mouth, hot and wet, nuzzled all over her throat and shoulder. “God, I want to fuck you,” he rasped, the clasp of his fingers becoming a hard pinch. “I want that so badly I’m afraid I will tear you apart.”
The crudeness of his speech was more than she could tolerate. With a cry, she climaxed, her cunt spasming so hard her knees nearly gave way. Gray held her upright, his hold strong and steady.
Panting, Isabel turned her gaze away from her wanton reflection and sought out Pelham’s likeness. She looked into dark eyes that had once drawn her into sexual decadence, and she called to mind every one of his mistresses. She remembered every occasion where she had been forced to sit across from one of them at a social function or to smell their perfume on her husband’s skin. She thought of all the women who had been in her home today with their come-hither smiles, and her stomach roiled violently, dousing her ardor instantly.
“Release me,” she said, her voice low and determined. She straightened, shrugging him off.
He stiffened behind her. “Listen to your breathing, and the rapid beat of your heart. You want this as badly as I do.”
“I do not.” She struggled in near panic until he released her with a curse. Then she spun on him with her fists clenched, every cell in her body working to turn her raging desire into just plain rage. “Keep your distance from me. Move back to your room. Leave me alone.”
“What in hell is the matter with you?” He ran both hands through his thick, dark hair. “I do not understand you.”
“I don’t want a sexual relationship with you. I have said that many times.”
“Why not?” he said crossly, beginning to pace.
“Do not push me anymore, Grayson. If you continue forcing yourself on me, I will have to leave.”
“Forcing myself on you?” He pointed a finger at her, a wealth of frustration betrayed by the rigidness of his body. “We will sort this out. Tonight.”
Lifting her chin, Isabel held her gown to her breasts and shook her head rapidly. “I have plans for this evening. I told you that.”
“You cannot go out,” he scoffed. “Look at you. You are shaking all over with the need for a hard tumble.”
“That is not your concern.”
“Damned if it isn’t.”
“Gray—”
Gray’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do not bring Hargreaves into this, Isabel. Do not go to him to sate the needs I arouse.”
She gaped. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. And well you know it. I am promising you, that if you go to Hargreaves to ease cravings brought on by my touch, I will call him out.”
“I cannot believe this.”
He threw up his hands. “Neither can I. There you stand, aching for me. Here I stand, ready to fuck you until neither of us can walk. What is the problem, Isabel? Can you tell me that?”
“I do not want to ruin our marriage!”
Gray took a deep, calming breath. “I must point out to you, dear wife, that marriage, by nature, includes sex. Between the spouses, not third parties.”
“Not our marriage,” she said firmly. “We had a bargain. You must find someone else.”
“That blasted bargain! Christ, Pel. Things have changed.” He stepped toward her with arms outstretched, the tense line of his jaw softening.
She ran to her escritoire, and put the piece of furniture between them. If he touched her, she would crumble.
His jaw clenched again. “As you wish,” he bit out. “But this is not what you want. I saw you today, the way you looked at every woman who walked in the door. The truth is, whatever your reasoning is for not wanting me in your bed, you don’t want me in any other woman’s bed either.” Gray bowed. “However, your wish is my command. You can collect your error on your own.”
Before she could react, he was gone. And while she regretted her words immediately, she did not chase him down and tell him not to go.
Chapter 6
Gerard strode the length of the hallway that led to Lady Stanhope’s hotel room, and cursed his stubborn wife.
There were benefits to doing as Isabel urged. His desire for her was nigh unbearable, causing him to push her too quickly and frighten her. He understood this, and he appreciated that he was not giving her enough time to become accustomed both to his new interest and his return to her life. It was true that fucking Barbara would take the edge off his hunger, but damn it! He did not want to take the edge off. He wanted to experience the aching, burning, intoxicating passion with Isabel, not a substitute for her.
But the thought of his wife with Hargreaves was so infuriating, his blood boiled. He would be damned if she eased her needs while he suffered with his own. Gerard knocked on Barbara’s door, and walked right in.
“I knew you would come,” she purred, nude on the bed, wearing only a black ribbon around her throat. He hardened instantly, as any man would at the sight of her. Barbara was a beautiful woman with a ravenous sexual appetite, enough to incite his anger and frustration into adulterated lust.
Shrugging out of his jacket and unfastening the buttons of his waistcoat, he approached the bed with grim determination.
Barbara came up on her knees, and moved to help him. “Grayson,” she breathed in her girlish voice, her eager hands shoving his garments off his shoulders to pool on the floor. “You are so hot for it tonight.”
He crawled over her, pinning her to the bed, then rolled, bringing her over him.
“You know what to do,” he muttered, then lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his mind completely disconnected from the meaningless sex that would soon follow.
Tugging his shirt free, Barbara ran her hands across his rippled abdomen. “I think I could orgasm just looking at you.” She leaned over him, pressing her breasts against his thigh as she worked to open his trousers. “But, of course, I will do more than look.”
Gerard closed his eyes, and longed for Isabel.
Isabel stepped down from her carriage and entered the Hargreaves residence by way of the mews. It was a path she had taken hundreds of times, and one that used to fill her with warm anticipation. Tonight, however, was completely different. Her stomach was knotted, and her palms damp. Gray had left on horseback, and she knew he had gone to another woman.
And she was the one who had driven him there.
At this moment, he was most likely buried deep inside someone, his gorgeous ass tightening and flexing as he thrust his cock into a willing body. She told herself their marriage was best this way. Better he find someone else now, than after she had succumbed. But even knowing this, she did not feel any better. The pictures in her mind tormented her, and the feeling of possessiveness did not abate. As she walked silently along the upper floor hallway, she could not fight her feelings of guilt and betrayal.
She knocked softly on John’s bedroom door, then entered.