On all fours, she dipped her head lower and flicked the tip of her tongue experimentally down the length of his straining cock.

Dare jolted as if a lightning bolt had struck him in the testicles.

Christ!

"Mmm ... salty," she murmured as her dark hair tickled his stomach.

With each moist stroke, the lady grew bolder. Dare's fingers clawed the sheets as she gently suckled the head of his cock. Her untutored exploration was almost his undoing. He wanted to guide her, push the throbbing flesh deeper and show her how to tease him with her lips and clever tongue until his seed burst out of him.

"No," he said, banishing the erotic vision of his cock plunging rapidly in and out of her mouth from his thoughts. She was a novice to such carnal games. He did not want Regan to be repulsed by his lust. "Ride me."

Her head came up at his husky command. "How?"

Dare slid his hands to her waist and coaxed her to straddle him until the tip of his arousal prodded the curls between her legs. "Take my cock into your body. That's right, sit on me," he said, grinding his teeth as she slowly covered him inch by agonizing inch.

"It is difficult to view you as a chair," she said so prudishly, Dare had to grin.

"Think of me as your faithful horse."

Regan's bravado returned. "Will I have to reward you with carrots?"

"We will reward each other." He cupped her firm buttocks and pulled her down against him. "Now ride, my lady."

At first, Dare's sensual command seemed silly. His manhood was stretching her almost uncomfortably. Locked together as they were, Regan could have happily covered Dare with her body and allowed sleep to claim her. Dare, on the other hand, had something more energetic in mind.

It took Regan several attempts, but she quickly found her rhythm as she moved up and down the length of his arousal. Dare was her anchor in this storm of carnal pleasure. Bracing her palms against his chest, she approached lovemaking like she did most tasks in her life-with joy and vigor.

Dare moaned at the fierce pace she had set.

"Am I hurting you?" she whispered.

"In the most delightful way," he said, his restless hands stroking her everywhere. She arched her back as one of his hands slid down her flat stomach and his thumb found a sensitive spot between her legs. "Do your worst, mon coeur."

Mon coeur. My heart.

Regan loved that endearment best.

Thea was always telling her and Nina that men were rather thickheaded when it came to understanding a lady's heart. Was Dare aware that Regan had offered him her heart long before he had claimed her maidenhead?

Had he tasted that love when he had kissed her five years ago?

The pleasure that had been building suddenly exploded, its fiery trails spinning wildly as they spread out over her body like a shimmering net of starlight. With her heart hammering in her chest, her arms bowed and her head dropped to his damp shoulder.

The feeling was so exquisite, she felt like crying.

Dare murmured something to her but she was too dazed to pay attention. Whatever he said was meant to comfort her, and that was enough.

Regan wearily turned her head and Dare's hard mouth sought hers. His kiss was possessive, an unspoken claim that she willingly embraced.

Blindly, Dare's hands seized her hips, encouraging her to continue the maddening pace that had left her limp and sated. His tongue speared her mouth, mimicking the actions of his manhood. Regan found the comparison strangely arousing.

"Fill me, Dare," she said, and bit his earlobe. "As deep as you can go. Over and over."

Dare seemed to take her words to heart. With a throaty growl that could have been laughter, he managed to flip Regan onto her back with his manhood still buried deep inside her.

He wrapped her legs around his plunging hips. Her thighs were trembling as she squeezed him. Dare rewarded her by biting her right breast. Regan's eyes flared open at the stinging pain.

"You have marked me!" she exclaimed.

Dare gave her another hard kiss. "Lest you forget that you are mine."

His declaration pushed her over the pinnacle that she had not been aware existed. Regan threw her head back against the pillows and cried out. Dare clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds of pleasure. It took only a few bone-jarring strokes, and he collapsed on top of her, his considerable weight burying her into the mattress and bedding. As Regan stroked his back, she felt the subtle pulls of his manhood and the viscous warmth of his seed filling her womb.

Too sated to fight the weariness in her limbs, Regan closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Regan fell asleep.

Dare could not decide if he was flattered or insulted. He took pride in his skills as a lover, but he had never left a woman so depleted that she fell asleep with his cock buried deeply inside her snug sheath.

He was still hard.

Dare wondered if his body would ever be sated. Regan's proximity was hell on his hard-won control over his carnal appetites.

Her eyelids fluttered open when he tried to withdraw from her. "No, not yet," she mumbled sleepily. "I like the feel of you inside me."

Dare caressed her cheek. "How can you sleep when I am smothering you?"

"Not sleeping ... just resting with my eyes closed," Regan assured him as she snuggled up to his hand. She reminded him of a well-fed kitten.

Ignoring her faint protests, he compromised by rolling them both on their sides, leaving his cock nestled inside her. Regan inched closer as her left leg lazily slid up and down his leg.

His breath caught in his throat as he stared into her face. Lying in bed with a lover after the lust had receded was a new experience for him. He had shied away from tenderness, because it was a path that led to love and commitment. The only person he had given tenderness was the woman in his arms. The risk had appeared minimal because Regan had been a child. Dare had never dwelled on the fact that one day, the child would grow into a woman.

He smoothed the damp strands of hair from her face. "You are so beautiful." In the shadowed interior of the bedchamber, her pale skin gleamed.

"Did you hit your head on one of the bedposts," she teased, her hand automatically touching her mussed tresses. "No lady is beautiful when she feels this damp and sticky."

Dare flexed deep inside her to get Regan's attention. He claimed her swollen mouth, drinking in her gasp. Dare did not release her until they were both breathless. "She is to the gent who is responsible for her disheveled condition."

"Oh."

She blinked rapidly, and Dare tensed, bracing for her tears. Regan quickly recovered and smiled at him. "Before I return to my bedchamber, do you want to dishevel me again?"

Regan giggled as Dare grabbed the sheet and pulled it over their heads. He had a few hours to demonstrate how wicked he could be with her between the sheets.

Chapter Twenty-one.

With Dare watching for any sign of life coming from Frost's bedchamber, Regan slipped into hers and swiftly dressed. When she emerged, they stealthily made their way down to the kitchen hand in hand.

Both of them were ravenous. This time for food.

Sitting on the kitchen floorboards with a lighted candle between them, Regan and Dare supped on cold lobster pie, thick buttered slices of bread, Cheshire cheese, and apple compote.

When they spoke, it was rarely above a whisper because they did not want to rouse any of the servants. Dare presented Regan with a fork laden with lobster pie. It was a novel experience to have a gentleman feed her. Leaning forward, her lips parted so she could accept his offering.

"You are not climbing the balconies again," Dare said, stabbing a lobster morsel for himself. "I will not tolerate it."

Regan's eyes narrowed as she was chewed and swallowed the food in her mouth. "Very clever of you to stuff my mouth before you lectured me on my conduct."

"Be reasonable, Regan. You could have slipped and broken your neck." He waved the fork to emphasize his point. "What if Frost had opened the doors to his balcony and caught you leaping about like an acrobat?"

Regan brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "My brother did not discover me, so what I would have said or done is moot." She selected a slice of cheese, broke it, and offered him half. "Stop worrying about Frost."

His fingers covered hers. "I still have not gained your oath that you will never traverse the balconies in that manner again."

She tilted her head to the side, mildly curious to see how far she could push him. "And what will you do if I do not give it?"

Dare's blue-gray eyes gleamed with something akin to anticipation. "I will drag you into my bed and fuck you until you are so weak, you will be incapable of denying me anything."

Regan shivered at the thought of his hands and mouth on her body again. "You are supposed to be discouraging me, my lord."

He took the cheese from her hand and popped it in his mouth. "Your promise, Regan."

She shrugged. "Very well. You have it. No more acrobatics."

Dare nodded, apparently satisfied that she would keep her promise. "How is your arm?"

Regan glanced down at her bare arm. "Fine. I had forgotten about it till now." When he reached over for one of the buttered slices of bread, she noticed the shadow of a bruise along his jaw. "Earlier, at Sin's house, you looked like you had been brawling with someone."

"Charles."

Had Lady Pashley summoned her brother-in-law once again? "Why did your brother punch you?"

"Who said he needed a reason," he replied, rubbing his jaw. "He also tried to break a chair over my head."

Regan was infuriated on his behalf. "And what did you do?"

"Return the favor," he said nonchalantly.

She crossed her arms. "I do not believe this. Where were your mother and father while your brother did his best to murder you?"

And where was Lady Pashley? Regan silently asked. Had she been the one to provoke the fight?

"I do not know where my mother was. I had come to speak to my father about Charles and-" He glanced down at his hands, reluctant to continue.

"And?"

He picked up the glass of wine that they had been sharing. "I suppose you have heard the news about Mrs. Randall."

It was Regan's turn to glance away. "Yes. I heard the tragic news when I called on Juliana and Sin." She stared sadly at the dishes about them, realizing that her appetite had fled. "Is your connection to Mrs. Randall causing some concern?"

Dare put down the glass of wine. "My connection?"

"You were seen speaking to her at the Trussells' ball."

"Not exactly a crime."

"You told me that you had escorted Mrs. Randall home that evening. There was some speculation that you and the widow were lovers."

"Damn. I had wondered why you were so upset about Mrs. Randall. Who told you that we were lovers?"

"Well, Mrs. Randall told me-"

Dare was taken aback by her admission. "You spoke to the widow about me?"

Regan wrinkled her nose. "At Lady Harper's literary salon, Mrs. Randall confided that a certain gentleman had caught her interest. I did not know that she was referring to you until I saw you approach her at Lord and Lady Trussell's ball. Lady Pashley seemed to think that if you were not already Mrs. Randall's lover, you planned to be soon."

Dare muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He bent his knee and casually braced his arms against it. "I told you the truth that night in the library. I escorted Mrs. Randall home. Nothing more. Allegra lied. Mrs. Randall and I were never lovers."

But you desired her, Regan wanted to say, but she held her tongue. Her jealousy seemed petty since the poor woman was dead.

Dare pushed aside the various dishes that separated them, so he could crawl to her side. Sitting on his knees, he pulled her into his arms. "Listen to me, Regan Alice. Before your arrival, I will admit that I had contemplated an intimate liaison with the widow."

He tipped her chin up with his fingers when she lowered her head. "Then I saw you at the theater, and suddenly all my thoughts wended their way back to you. I told myself a dozen times that it was wrong. Still, I thought I might go mad if I could not have you in my bed."

Desire flared to life between them. Her body responded to the intent that she read the intent in his eyes. Regan's eyelashes fluttered downward as she leaned in for a kiss.

"Not here," she whispered. "Anyone might stumble across us."

"Indeed," Frost said, his palms planted firmly on the long wooden table behind them.

Regan and Dare sprang apart, but the damage was done.

Frost stared down at his friend with cold amusement. "If you wish to deflower my sister, Dare, might I suggest something more discreet like the library or better still, your bedchamber. Then again, a clever gent like you has already figured out how to take what you want."