by Audrey Storm
James studied her for a moment, as if suspicious, before his expression softened. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
He hummed thoughtfully, his signature smirk coming on his face. A hint of arrogance shone in his eyes, but it wasn’t unpleasant, like it used to be. It was reassuring and…and even attractive, if Catharine was going to be honest with herself. He was obviously confident in and proud of himself—a bit too much, it seemed, but regardless, this was still good for him. And she couldn’t help but be proud of him, too.
“Which program should we try first?” she asked.
“You should choose,” he said. He twitched a little like he was in pain, his smirk morphing into a genuine smile. “None of this would have happened without you. You started this charity.”
Catharine beamed at the compliment before focusing more on answering the question.
They didn’t have the money to build an entirely new building, but they had enough to renovate one tenant building in London.
It was a start.
When their project was done, Catharine gave some of the remaining money to the biggest family living in the building. Specifically, she gave the envelope of money to the youngest son, a five year-old. He looked in the envelope, smiled, then hugged Catharine tightly before running back inside his newly fixed up home.
James stood next to her as the two of them looked at the building. It wasn’t perfect, but the windows were wider, the walls were thicker, and the plumbing actually worked now.
“You shouldn’t let anyone touch, you know,” he said, not unkindly. “You mean well, but some people don’t.”
Catharine shrugged. “I know. But I’m not one to live in fear, however logical it might be to do so.”
She turned to leave—to go over to the carriage, where Andrew was waiting for them—but she stopped when she saw that James was staring at her intently. Her skin tingled with awareness of his gaze upon her.
“You are remarkable, Catty Sadlier,” he said fondly.
Catharine’s face heated up immediately. She tried to think of something clever to say, but based on the way James smirked at her, she knew her face must be incredibly red. Embarrassed, show bowed her head and cleared her throat. “We should go,” she said.
“Of course,” James said. He offered his arm to her. “Shall we, Lady Sadlier?”
Still blushing, Catharine smiled and snaked her arm around his. They had walked together numerous times over the months, but now it felt different somehow. She was more…cognizant of it—of the pressure of his arm around hers, of his scent, of him watching her—
Catharine shook her head and began walking forward, which forced James to walk along with her. He laughed—undoubtedly at her—but she was in the right state of mind to retort.
Their relationship continued to change after that moment. James kept complimenting her, and she kept blushing in response. He would laugh, and she would stutter.
It was strange. Had it been anyone other than James, Catharine might have believed they were falling in love with one another. But it was James, and despite the fact that he had turned into a kinder person, he was still more likely to mess with Catharine than sincerely wish to pursue her. She was wider and more outspoken than the girls he normally courted. It was silly to even consider the idea of him caring for her like that.
She, on the other hand, could not stop herself from thinking about him more and more as time went on. Even when she wasn’t directly thinking about him, he was always on the back of her mind.
Biting her lip, she sat at the table in her father’s large office. He sometimes ate dinner in his office when he worked late at night, but that particular night, he had finished business early and had gone out to meet with his business acquaintances. Now, she and James had the office to themselves to discuss obtaining more funds for the charity—to start a new program, or perhaps try doing the same one again.
Except, while Catharine continued to speak on topic, her mind continued to wander to James…how would his bare flesh feel on her skin? What would his lips taste like?
Catharine lowered her gaze to the table before her. There were some bank statements on it—bank statements that she had acquired—but she could no longer make sense of them; her head felt like it was spinning.
“Catharine?” James said beside her. He lowered the papers—their future plans—to the table and turned more toward her. “Did you hear me?”
She shook her head. “I apologize, James. I’m afraid I am terribly tired at the moment. Perhaps we should call it a night and continue this conversation tomorrow.”
“Very well,” he said.
Catharine rubbed her temples and tried to fight past her own giddy feelings. When she noticed that James hadn’t moved, she turned to him. “Is everything alright?”
He was staring at the table before his gaze rose to her. “Yes, yes. I was just…” He looked at the table again, tapping it. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about something.”
“Oh?”
A nervous, breathy laugh crawled out of his throat. “Yes.” Once again, he looked back up at her, his eyes glazed with so many emotions. “You…you are very…good.” He winced.
“Thank you,” she said. She was more confused than anything else, but he looked very serious in this moment, so she remained patient with him. “That is kind of you to say.”
“You’re the best,” he blurted, leaning toward her. “I…” His eyelids lowered, his mouth parting as uncertainty wrinkled his brow.
Catharine’s breath caught in her throat. She knew she was reading him wrong—that he couldn’t be leaning toward her to kiss her, that his intentions weren’t romantic in nature—but despite knowing this, her heart hammered and her lungs tightened. James continued to lean toward her, and he seemed timid; James was never timid, not with her.
His lips were centimeters from her own when he stopped, warm puffs of air leaving his mouth and tickling her face. “Catharine?”
She shuddered at his soft, broken tone. “Yes?”
“May I…may I kiss you?”
Catharine’s entire body flushed, her mind reeling at the words. “Yes.”
The skin around his eyes wrinkled, revealing that he was smiling. Her heart stuttered, and then she swore it stopped altogether when she felt his lips press against hers. It was a gentle, brief kiss, but a second after he pulled away from her, he kissed her again, harder. It thrilled her, and without even thinking about it, she gripped the front of his jacket before her hands lowered to his thighs. His legs tensed, then they went lax beneath her palms.
So focused on where she was touching him, she jumped when his fingers skimmed over the back of her neck. Then his hands pressed against the side of her face, his fingers tickling her behind her ear.
Heat shot through her, and she gasped into his mouth.
James, being James, took full advantage of this moment and darted his tongue in between her lips. Each spot his tongue touch felt searing, pure pleasure growing and burning in her lower belly.
Catharine moaned. This was all so new—so much—and while she was worried she was going to burst from sensory overload, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more—needing more. With this running through her mind, she pulled away and kissed James’s jaw, his neck, and then the base of his throat. All the while, the hands on his thighs moved up and down.
James inhaled sharply. “Catty,” he breathed. His hands had lowered to hers, and she allowed him to wrap his fingers around hers and pull her forward a little.
She moved and wrapped her arms around him, bringing her lips to his again. They kissed sloppily—teeth hitting teeth, tongues tasting lips. Catharine’s body was growing hotter and hotter as the tender flesh between her legs became wet.
“All of you,” Catharine begged when they parted. “I want all of you now. Please.”
James didn’t need to be told twice. He guided her upward until they were both standing, his hands move to the ribbons on her
back. Pressed against her, he smirked at her as he took his tentative time untying and unbuttoning her clothing. Catharine openly expressed her frustration and want as she stared up at him. For some reason, him not touching—him not kissing her—was more tantalizing and more tortuous than she had imagined it would be.
“James,” she whined, embarrassed at herself, yet too desperate to care. Pleasure was still building within her, lowering occasionally, then rising again at rapid speeds when his fingertips brushed against her skin. She moaned again. “James.”
“God, I love it when you say my name.” He tugged at her dress then, tearing it a little. “If you want me to be fast, your precious dress will be ruined.”
“Ruin it,” she blurted. “Please.”
His smile widened, and he ripped apart her dress within seconds, each loud tear sending waves of pleasure through her. When she was in nothing but her undergarments, she helped James tear this fabric off of her, as well.
A relieved sigh moved past her lips. Her body free, it was so much easier to breathe and move. After her moment of reprieve, her eyes raked over James’s clothed body. She reached for his jacket and eagerly helped him shoulder it off. “Your turn,” she whispered.
“God, yes,” he said in return, his eyes ravishing every ounce of her form. “God, yes.”
They tore his clothes off as well, though his pants slid off of his waist rather easily. Soon, he was in nothing but his socks, his hard cock blushing and sticky.
“James,” she whispered, her hand reaching toward his throbbing member.
James took gently took her hand and brought to his lips, his gaze softening. “Beautiful,” he breathed over her knuckles, making her heart beat a little harder. He smirked, clearly knowing the effect he had on her, before pushing her back until her thighs hit the table. “Fall back, carefully.”
With his guidance, she leaned and moved back until she was lying on top of the table. The cool surface made her shiver, James’s warm hands also making her shiver when they explored every aspect of her body. When he came upon her heaving breasts, he encased as much of them as he could with his large hands and fondled them—softly at first, then roughly.
“James,” she whimpered, widening her legs. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking for, but her core was so hot for it—needed it. “James. Please.”
He groaned, sounding as needy as she felt. However, he was slow as he trailed his hand from her breasts, down her belly, and to the mound of hair over her most sensitive area. He lightly tugged it before he moved his fingers in between her folds. All he did was press the flesh there, and pleasure burst through her.
Catharine jolted, gasping and moaning as she came. James moved his fingers up and down the slit between her legs—creating more moisture, more friction.
She had just come down from her orgasm when James positioned himself over her. She was breathless, dizzy, and she was mindlessly compliant as he spread her legs wider and pressed his member in between her lower lips.
Catharine tensed, blinking quickly as he continued to push himself inside her. It was…an odd sensation at first, slightly uncomfortable.
“You alright?” James whispered, choking on the words. His eyes were wide and wild, lust making them dark.
Catharine stared up at him. Understanding his need, and sincerely feeling alright with this situation, she nodded. “Yes. Keep going.” And then, knowing that he liked it, she huskily whispered, “James.”
He moaned. “God, Catty.” He moved deeper and deeper inside her. Then, once he was settled, he began thrusting.
Catharine’s eyes widened. That hot pleasure returned to her in full, and as James’s movements became quicker and more jagged, the hotter and needier Catharine became yet again. It was so much—too much—she wanted more. She became greedy, moving her hips in time with him and moaning loudly.
A few blissful minutes later, they both came at the same time. This orgasm, much more powerful than Catharine’s first, sucked the breath out of her lungs and stopped her heart. Her body knew nothing but ecstasy, numb to everything else in the world…everything but James, whose seed was filling her.
James collapsed on her when he was finished. The two of them panted, riding out the light aftershocks of their orgasms.
In that moment, she realized what she, an unmarried woman, had just done. This was all disgusting and horrible, yet…she didn’t feel that way. In fact, this was the best she had ever felt in her life, and she had shared this incredible experience with James. She smiled, confused by herself yet completely sated.
James kissed her cheek, and Catharine’s heart softened. Sinful or not, this had been wonderful, and she refused to deny it. But in order for her not to be ashamed of their actions, she would have to do right by them.
She would have to get James to marry her.
“Lady Sadlier,” James panted, pulling out of her before staring down at her intently. “Perhaps this is a bit out of order, but I would like to request having dinner with you some evening.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You…you wish to court me? Truly?”
“Of course.”
She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling too madly. It was a slower route than the one she wanted to go down, but it was strangely sweet. She decided it would do, especially since it seemed to mean a lot to James—this mere act of courting, even though he already received…
Catharine blushed.
James tilted his head toward her. “You are a magnificent woman, Catharine.”
She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “You are, as well.” Humiliation spiked through her and she jumped. “No, I mean a man. You’re a man. You—” She groaned and closed her eyes.
James laughed. And this time, she couldn’t help but laugh, too.
Chapter 4
Catharine and James spent every day together that following week. Though a lot of that time was spent working on their charity—asking people for donations, planning new programs—they did manage to make time for one another at night, when most people were in bed or out and about.
At James’s father’s mansion, she and James kissed passionately. They were in James’s office, a rather small room compared to his chambers. However, his father had deemed the room James’s and he was always so proud to call it his office. Catharine was proud of him, too, and it was rather tantalizing to watch him work in it.
James pushed her against the cool window, his mouth molding into hers and his hips pressed against hers. She moaned.
James’s father wasn’t even in London that day. James wouldn’t give Catharine any details about where the Second Earl of London on gone off to; he simply said that the man had some public appearance to make—some rumors to argue against—and that was that.
Truthfully, Catharine didn’t care. So long as no one was there to interrupt her and James, she was content. After all James’s and her hard work on the charity, these nights together were such wondrous gifts. She didn’t want to deal with family, with money—
Catharine’s eyes widened, and she pushed James off of her. “We didn’t go to the bank today.”
“It’s fine,” he said, moving toward her again.
She kept him back. “James. You had the donations. Are they still in your pocket?”
He released an exasperated sigh. “No, I put it away when we got here. I remembered it while you were in the powder room, and I didn’t want you to worry about it, so I didn’t say anything.” He gave her a slight glare, annoyance evident in his expression.
“Where did you put it?”
Sighing, he backed away and moved over to his desk. As Catharine followed him, he took out a key from his pocket and used it to unlock one of the top drawers of his desk. Once the drawer was unlocked, he pulled the drawer open and took out a medium-sized, unkempt bag out and plopped it on top of the desk.
“Satisfied?” James asked.
Catharine hurried over and searched through the bag. They had gotten seven direct donations
from some wealthy heirs earlier that day. James had counted it out in front of her.
“Where’s the rest of it?” she asked, a sense of panic beginning to buzz through her.
“What are you talking about?”
Catharine turned to him. James was furrowing his brow at her, innocence expressed in his face. It made her cold. “James, where’s the rest of the money? It’s not all here.”
Clearly not believing her, James shook his head and took the bag from her. She waited, gnawing at her lip, as he counted the money out for himself. When he began counting the money again, Catharine placed a hand over her mouth and walked away.
She was certain that they hadn’t dropped any of the money when they were out. She had been at James’s side the entire day until they came back to his father’s home, and she had constantly checked his pockets to make sure the money had remained there. Where James had gotten the bag, she didn’t know. Apparently, she had been in the powder room a long time for him to find a bag, put all the money in it, lock it up, and then somehow lose some of that money.
That thought process was ridiculous, and she knew it. James…James had been alone with the charity’s funds—today, and many other times the past few months. What if…what if all this time, he had been stealing from it?
Nausea churned within Catharine’s stomach, her heart icing over. She tried to not believe it, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The old James would have loved to make a fool of her. It wouldn’t have mattered if he needed to steal the money or not; as long as it hurt and embarrassed her, that was all that would have mattered to him.
Tears stung her eyes as pain and rage pulsated through her. She sniffled, shallow breaths bursting out of her mouth.
How could she have been so blind?
“Catharine?” James said, walking around until he was facing her. His brow was creased with concern. “Darling, please don’t be upset. I’ll make up the difference from my own account. It will be fine.”
Catharine clenched her teeth and tried to control her breathing. Once she felt a little controlled over herself, she glared into James’s eyes. “Did you steal it?”