Romancing the Earl

by Darcy Burke

  His hands came forward and brushed between her thighs, widening them slightly. His knuckles rubbed against her folds and her hips jerked. But he didn’t continue. She nearly groaned in frustration. Instead, his hands came back up and cupped her breasts, lifting both.

  She’d closed her eyes as he’d conducted his scrutiny, but she opened them now and watched him. His gaze was locked on her breasts, his dark gold lashes fanning out over his eyes.

  His thumbs flicked over her nipples, sending shocks of desire straight to her core. She swayed toward him, wondering how long she could continue to stand unaided. His fingers worked over her, tugging at her nipples, then caressing them with soft strokes. His palms massaged her. Again and again, he taunted each breast. The need built inside of her, gaining strength.

  He curled one hand around her back and splayed his palm against her spine. His mouth came down on her breast, at once devouring and worshipping her with his lips and tongue. She moaned as she reached new heights of longing. He held her captive to his mouth—one hand on her back and one holding her breast as he feasted.

  She closed her eyes and cast her head back. Everything she had was focused on what he was doing to her, the incredible sensations she’d never imagined. She thrust her fingers into his thick hair and clutched him to her, desperate that he never leave her.

  He moved to her other breast, taking her into his mouth. He gentled, suckling her so softly, but then he drew his teeth over the nipple and heat flooded her core. She wanted him there, between her thighs. She parted her legs, almost without thinking, and pushed her hips forward, seeking.

  The hand on her back moved lower, glided over her buttocks. His touch was light, taunting, then harder, his fingers digging into her backside as he clasped one side.

  Keeping his mouth on her breast, he removed his grip and slipped his fingers between her legs. He went slowly, his fingertips grazing over her folds, just skimming against her flesh. It wasn’t nearly enough. She pushed forward again.

  “My eager Cate,” he murmured against her. “Kiss me now.” He pulled his head from her and she bent to put her mouth on his.

  He thrust his tongue up into her as his finger made a similar intrusion. She moaned into his mouth as his thumb worked her clitoris. She’d read that this should be a particularly sensitive spot and it was. He seemed to know precisely what he was doing as he used his thumb and finger to push her to the edge.

  He kissed her deeply, commanding her with every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He broke away from her and looked into her eyes. “Do as I say now. You trust me, don’t you?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  He pushed her back and brought his legs together. Then he pulled her forward once more so that she straddled him. He scooted back. “Kneel on the bed.”

  That would open her thighs and reveal him to her in the most intimate way. For the first time, she faltered. Perhaps sensing her hesitation, he put one hand behind her right knee and gently pulled it forward.

  She did trust him. And she couldn’t stop this. She didn’t want to.

  She put her knees on either side of him and he leaned back. Cupping her backside, he moved her with him until she was directly over his face. Then he urged her down until his tongue licked at her folds. Sensation, new and devastating, slammed into her. With an aching moan, she clamped her eyes shut. Watching him do that was even more overwhelming. She didn’t know how much more she could stand.

  He massaged her backside as he deepened his kiss. He lifted each side of her, creating sensations she never imagined. His lips and tongue did to her sex what they’d done to her mouth, exploring and tasting her with fierce precision. His hands came over her hips and settled against her thighs, widening her even farther. Then his thumbs were against her, assisting his mouth, opening her for greater access. His tongue speared deep into her and the tension building inside of her reached a dizzying height. She clutched at his head, as much to ground herself as to encourage him. Something was coming if he would just . . .

  He slipped his finger into her again at the same moment his mouth closed over her clitoris and sucked hard. She pushed down against him, her muscles clenching as everything exploded. She completely lost control, her body convulsing in great, riotous waves. He didn’t let up. His finger stroked into her more quickly now and his lips and tongue continued their onslaught. She cried out over and over again, whimpering as shock after shock crested over her.

  When the storm began to fade, he lifted her left leg over him and pressed her back against the mattress. She opened her eyes to see him rising over her.

  “Oh my God.” That was all she could think to say. She was utterly robbed of speech, of coherent thought, of everything but bone-deep satisfaction.

  He reached down and stripped his small clothes away and she suddenly realized they weren’t finished. He wasn’t finished. At least she didn’t think he was. She glanced down, saw his cock rising against his belly, and had her answer.

  His mouth fell over her breast again, suckling her deep and reigniting her lust. How could she want him again so quickly? And how she wanted him. As if he hadn’t just pleasured her.

  “Cate, are you still with me?”

  She’d closed her eyes again, but opened them now to see him staring at her intently. His hands were braced on either side of her head and he knelt between her legs.

  “Yes.” The sound of her own voice, dark and seductive, was foreign to her.

  He kissed her again, not quite as deeply as the last time. He tasted different and when she realized why, she felt a moment’s shyness. No, this was an adventure she’d craved, and she wouldn’t balk. She reached up and curled her hand around the back of his neck, holding him as captive as he’d done her before. She speared her tongue into his mouth, kissing him with the stark urgency he’d shown her.

  He responded in kind, pushing her into the bed with the pressure of his kiss. When she was dizzy again with desire, he lifted his head. “Widen your legs and bring your knees up.”

  She did as he commanded, utterly enslaved by his attentions. He’d said this would be one night only and she had the sense he was giving her everything he had, that he was committed to making this a night she would remember for the rest of her life. That made her both sad and excited.

  He reached between her legs then and touched her, his fingers soft at first like before and then opening her and gliding over her with expert strokes. He pressed on her clitoris and massaged. Her muscles coiled again as the tension rebuilt.

  Then his cock was there, nudging against her opening. He went very slowly. Due to her athletic activities, there was no membrane to block his entry, but she still felt the intrusion as something new, something she was unused to. He spread her folds and slid inside, pushing himself until he couldn’t go any farther.

  He didn’t move at first, as if he were giving her the chance to grow accustomed to his presence. She appreciated it because she loved this new feeling. He made her feel full and hungry at the same time. He withdrew slightly, then rocked forward again. She clutched his shoulder for an anchor, already sensing that what she’d felt before was about to be intensified a hundredfold.

  She brought her legs up even more, which seemed to give him even greater access. He groaned just before taking her mouth in another searing kiss, and then he began to move. His strokes were long and slow at first, methodical in their penetration. It was exactly what she expected from a man like him—measured, controlled. But, oh so devastating.

  He moved faster, piercing her with delicious thrusts. She started moving too, lifting her hips to meet him.

  He broke the kiss and his breath came hard and fast as he quickened the pace even more. “Look at me, Cate.”

  His gaze was intense, brutal even, as he drove into her. She stared up at him, entranced. Her body coiled tight as another orgasm thundered toward her. He slammed into her again and again, each time sending her inexorably closer to the limit. She closed her eyes a
s it broke over her. She cried out as she spasmed, unable to control her body and what he’d done to her.

  And then he was gone.

  “Elijah!” She reached for him, but he’d moved to the side of the bed and had his back to her.

  He grunted. Then a long moan. She lightly touched his back, realizing what he must be doing. He’d said he knew how to prevent a pregnancy and she was grateful. Still, she couldn’t help but wish he could’ve finished as she had.

  His back rose and fell with his breathing. She gave him a moment to collect himself.

  “Does that feel the same?” she asked.

  He turned and tossed his smallclothes onto the floor, having used them to clean up.

  “Leaving me, I mean.”

  He turned and settled his back against the wall, then drew the coverlet up to his waist. “No.”

  Now she felt doubly sorry. “I appreciate you doing that. You mentioned multiple ways to prevent a child. Do you also use a condom?”

  “You know what that is?” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You are the most educated female I know.”

  She sat back against the small iron headboard of the bed and pulled the coverlet to her waist as well. Their legs were intertwined beneath and she was aware of his heat and the light hairs grazing her flesh. “I’ll hope you think that’s a good thing.”

  His gaze was tinged with humor. “It’s certainly different. But yes, on you, it’s . . . attractive.” He sounded surprised by that realization, but she didn’t care. She was just glad he felt that way.

  “So you do use condoms?”

  “I have, yes. But I don’t have any with me, or I would have employed one.”

  She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, heedless of her nakedness. “How does it feel?”

  He arched a brow at her, probably disbelieving he was having this conversation. “Not as good as bare flesh. However, it’s better than having to remove myself.”

  She winced. “Does it ruin it for you?”

  “No, it just . . . dulls the intensity a bit.”

  Sitting here talking with him in the moonlight, naked, having just engaged in intercourse . . . Any other young woman would be horrified. But then any other young woman wouldn’t have done it. Nor would they be contemplating doing it again. She tried not to stare at his chest, so broad and superbly carved. She longed to run her hands over him as he’d done her, to learn the planes of his body so that she might commit him to memory.

  “What about . . . doing it again?” she asked. “I was surprised to find satisfaction twice so quickly. Is it the same for you?”

  “Not quite. I need a little respite between.”

  “How much?”

  He laughed and she loved the sound, wished he did it more. Lines crinkled around his eyes. He looked younger, more relaxed. Indeed, she’d never seen him look this at ease.

  She turned in the bed and scooted next to him against the wall, crossing her ankles beneath the coverlet. Her feet dangled over the edge of the bed, though not quite as far as his did, of course.

  “Why are you so against marriage?” She hadn’t intended to ask, but this was the most intimate they would ever be. And she wanted to know. In truth, she wanted to know everything about him, but he was so frightfully secretive. “I know you’d rather keep it to yourself, but we’ve agreed to keep tonight inviolate, so if you’d care to unburden yourself, I’d like to listen.”

  He glanced down at her before looking toward the window with a pensive air. “I don’t know anyone who is happily married. It seems a waste of time and one’s energy.”

  Cate thought of her parents, who were insanely happy. Their love was not only palpable; it was infectious. “Was your parents’ marriage one of obligation?”

  “I’m not entirely certain, but I know my father loved my mother once.”

  “She didn’t love him?”

  He shrugged and the atmosphere turned cool. “I don’t believe she loves anyone. Maybe my brother.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. And it also doesn’t matter. She’s scarcely a part of my life.”

  “Few people are,” she said softly, beginning to understand the lonely boy he must have been, the lonely man he’d grown into. “Some marriages are successful. My parents are happy.”

  “Most are not. Look at your cousin Stratton and his wife.” His features darkened, and she could tell he regretted bringing them up. It led to thoughts of Septon, which had to remind Elijah of his potential involvement in Matthew’s death—if Septon was a member of the Order of the Round Table.

  “I don’t know that I agree with your assessment that ‘most’ are failures, but, as you say, it doesn’t signify. It only matters that your marriage is successful.”

  He looked at her askance, determination lighting his eyes. “I am not, nor will I ever be, married.”

  “So you keep saying,” she murmured. She turned toward him and tentatively touched his chest. He drew a breath, just slightly sharper than a normal intake. She flattened her palm against him, felt his heart beating. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind if you meet the right woman.”

  “I might ask why a woman like you, one who has no inclination for marriage either, is so interested in my marital plans.”

  Why was she? Unlike him, she hadn’t decided that she would never marry, just that she needn’t and that it was highly unlikely. Had she unconsciously decided that marrying him would be acceptable? She entertained the thought—being his countess, sharing his life, his bed . . .

  Sharing. That was the word that gave her pause. It was why marriage in theory didn’t appeal to her—because in most cases there was no sharing. Her parents’ marriage was not the norm, and Elijah had given her no reason to think he would be like her father. He’d already tried to curb her activities on more than one occasion, and that was enough for her to acknowledge he wasn’t the man for her. And she would probably never meet one who was.

  “You look as though you’re trying to solve the problems of the world,” he said.

  She blinked at him. “No. Just thinking about what you said. You’re correct. I have no inclination for marriage. I do, however, have an inclination for you right now.” If she was only to have one night with him, she wanted to make it count.

  She pulled him down for a kiss, splaying her hand over his chest and digging her fingers into his flesh. Moving her hand up, she found his nipple and grazed her fingers over the tip. He angled his head and speared into her mouth, his hand tangling in her hair as he held her close.

  She pulled away from him and moved her attention to his chest. She traced her palm over his muscles, reveling in his hardness. Were men as sensitive to touch as women? She plucked at his nipple, then leaned over to lick it.

  He fisted her hair, holding her to him. Then he dragged her onto his lap. She turned, facing him, and kissed a path to his other nipple before using her teeth to score his flesh.

  He sucked in a sharp breath as his hand found her breast and tweaked her nipple. He pinched it firmly, then drew it out before letting go and starting over again.

  She trailed her mouth up his collarbone to his neck, licking and sucking his flesh. He pushed the coverlet away and situated her on her knees, straddling him. His hands skimmed down her sides and settled on her thighs, massaging her flesh as she kissed the underside of his jaw. He’d shaved before dinner, and his flesh was smooth with a faint scent of the soap he’d used.

  Whatever time he’d required to restore himself had elapsed. His cock rose between her legs, rubbing against her and firing her desire. She pushed down, grinding her flesh against his. He lifted slightly, meeting her, teasing her.

  She widened her legs and rocked her hips. His cock slid up against her clitoris, jolting her with sensation, then back along her sex, taunting her with the promise of what was to come.

  She cupped his neck and kissed him. All the while, she rotated against him, working herself into a fevered state of need. His fingers dug into her thighs, guid
ed her to increase her speed.

  She moved faster, desperate to have him inside of her. She broke the kiss as she reached down and stroked his cock.

  “Cate.” He sounded strained. “It’s too soon.”

  “Not for me.” She felt moisture at his tip and her need rose even higher. “I want you inside me again.”

  He groaned, his hands moving up to her hips and tightening around her flesh. He held her up as she guided him to her opening. Sliding him in wasn’t as easy as she’d thought. He wetted his fingers on his tongue and stroked her opening. He paid special attention to her clitoris, coaxing and arousing her until she began to climb. His finger pushed inside, stretching her, pleasuring her. Then his cock was there instead and he slid into her with a sure, swift stroke.

  “Cate.” His hand cradled the side of her neck, pushed the mass of her hair back over her shoulder and tucked it behind her ear. “You can control this. Ride me. If you want.”

  She did. She rose, pulling herself almost completely off his shaft, then sank down again. The sensation of him filling her was so spectacular. White lights danced behind her eyes. She opened them, wanting to see him as she moved over him. Ride me, he’d said.

  She lifted again and pushed down even more swiftly. She ground her hips into his, loving the feel of him against her and inside of her. He was everywhere she wanted him to be. His head tipped down and took her breast into his mouth. He nipped and licked at her, one hand holding the back of her neck, the other gripping her hip as she pleasured herself—and hopefully him.

  Pressure built in her core as she moved faster and faster. She tried to establish a rhythm, but it was so hard with what he was doing to her breasts and the pleasure cresting within her.