The way the silk had caressed her maidenly curves. The swell of her small, but perfect breasts revealed she did not need a corset in the least. Easy access. Perfect. Her beautiful, wavy red hair falling just above them. Sweeping to and fro, enticing the male eye, and making his blood rush fast and hard.
The earl caressed his thick, hard cock and pumped.
A noticeable pink swept across her cheeks and down her neck. Would the rest of her body be pink with arousal? Rosy and pert nipples responded to the flicks of his tongue, a moan of delight rising from her throat as he worked between her thighs, lapping up her very essence.
He could barely maintain his stance without using his left hand to grip the washstand. He was so close to release.
He would swipe his tongue until she loosed all her juices. Dripping, sopping, glorious honey. He would rise above her and fuck her until she cried out his name. Charles. Charles.
Breathless and mindless, Avonlea came. Jets of his seed hit the side the basin as he tried to regain control of his own passion. The woman drove him mad, and she had not the faintest idea of what she did to him. Perhaps he should tell her and see what her reaction would be.
Would she run, or would she embrace him? But they would never be as long as her mother was in the picture. And there was not a damned thing he could do about it.
Using the water from the washstand, he cleaned up any evidence of his release and changed his clothes. Vauxhall would be interesting, and he would be lucky if he survived being in the same carriage with her.
* * * *
Emily hummed for most of the ride to Vauxhall in the carriage, while her sister-in-law prattled on about the twins. She and his lordship laughed at the fact that her brother had stayed home, but when the subject waned, all returned to silence until they arrived at the venue.
Charles cast glances at her and genuinely smiled at Isabel’s prattling. But every once in a while, he stared down at his lap and fumbled with his fingers. He gulped hard and exhaled, as if he were deep in thought about something tremendously serious. She would give anything to know what had him so engrossed.
“If you do not mind my saying, I am dying to see the theater. It has been some time since I was here, and I really wanted to see it the first time around.”
They both looked at the marchioness in astonishment, when Emily piped up. “Well now, if you and my darling brother had not been so busy with your own scandal, then I would not have the world’s loveliest niece and nephew.”
Isabel cast an amused glance at Lord Avonlea, and he put up his arms. “The lady said it, not I.”
When the carriage came to a halt at the entrance, Emily carefully watched the earl exit and hold out his hands to each of them. Isabel descended first then she, but something strange happened when they touched. His fingers lingered a moment, and he gave hers a gentle squeeze.
Her heart leapt at the sensation, which flowed right down to her toes. Fortunately, they were covered in her slippers, or someone would sure notice them curling. She observed a change in him since the last time they had spoken at the ball.
Emily hooked her arm with Lady Isabel and dragged her toward the theater, his lordship following closely behind. They entered and were greeting by a portly and aged doorman.
“Welcome, Lady Thompson, Lord Avonlea. And who might this darling young woman be?”
Emily flushed. She did not hear compliments all that often, and found it delightful someone had called her a woman without being crass. “I am Emily Thompson, sir. Lady Thompson’s sister-in-law.”
“Forgive my ignorance, miss. Shall I have one of my lads escort you to the balcony?”
“I believe I know the way, sir. Thank you for asking.”
The earl led the way, and she and Isabel trailed after. Emily’s heart raced as her eyes followed the curve of his lordship’s bottom. This had been the first time she had looked at him so thoroughly, and her imagination ran wild. What would he be like? Touching me the way Downsbury did? Would he be gentle and soothing, or would he be gruff and callous? His thighs were thick and shapely in his riding breeches, and she wondered what his bare back would look like.
An unfamiliar warmth crept up her back, and seared her cheeks. Wicked thoughts of the two of them in an intimate embrace. Emily shook her head. Even viewing that woman on her knees with her soon-to-be-husband, she had barely caught a glimpse of his grace’s appendage. Do they all look the same? What does Lord Avonlea’s look like? Her face burned once again as the scandalous musings returned.
When they reached their balcony, Isabel entered first, then she, followed by Charles. He sat next to her.
“Are you all right, Emily? You look piqued,” Isabel asked as she turned.
“Oh, I am quite fine.”
“Are you sure, Miss Thompson? I can arrange for a glass of water to be brought up,” his lordship queried.
“Nonsense. It is a tad warm here, so I shall rectify the situation by removing my shawl.” Good lord. If they only knew what has me so out of sorts. The musicians finished tuning their instruments when the actors came out.
“Excuse me. I do believe I need to use the…convenience,” Isabel whispered into her ear.
“Shall I accompany you?”
“No, dear. Sit and watch the play. I shan’t be but a few minutes.” Isabel tapped her shoulder and slipped through the curtains.
She was finally alone with Lord Avonlea, but would he indulge her questions, or would he find them too scandalous and report to her brother? No, he would never do that. Nathaniel would shoot him.
“Is her ladyship well?” he asked.
“Yes, she is fine. She’ll be along momentarily.”
“Are you enjoying your outing so far, Emily?”
She could not pay attention to anything other than the fact the gentleman next to her roused her curiosity perilously. “Yes, my lord. Pray, Lord Avonlea, would you mind indulging my ignorance for a moment?”
His eyebrows shot up, and he cleared his throat. “What is on your mind?”
“Do you recall that night at the ball when I confided in you? About what that woman was doing to his grace?”
“Yes.” She noticed his body tense.
“Well, I had some afterthoughts, and was hoping to understand a few things.” Her breath hitched.
“Emily, I am not entirely sure you should be asking me questions of such intimate nature, but I will do my best to answer in the most delicate way.”
“Excellent, my lord. I was hoping you would agree. The first thing I was curious about was that compromising position I found that woman in. Is it normal practice for a woman to pleasure a man that way? And how does it feel? Do they all look the same?” Lord Avonlea shifted back in his seat. His mouth opened to speak, but she observed the shock splayed across his face. “Have I offended you, my lord?”
“You have not. It would take much more than that to surprise me. Emily, I think you should talk to her ladyship about this.”
Emily frowned, wondering why he wanted to redirect her question. “Whatever are you afraid of? No one is here to listen upon our conversation.”
“Fine. But if I get caught saying these things, I will make sure it is known that the scandalous nature of our conversation started with you.” He pursed his lips and groaned. “The act you happened upon does occur in marital relations, and more often in extra-marital ones. The practice itself is not common, and most women find it repulsive.”
She for one, could certainly appreciate how offensive the act was perceived, but if it was perfectly acceptable in a man’s eyes, would it be the same for a woman? “How long does it take before a man releases, and do they spill into a woman’s mouth? You still have not told me if it is truly pleasurable.”
“The time it takes for a man to release, I suppose, is a matter of how well a woman is performing. It is expected that a man spills into her mouth, as well as the woman to swallow.” By now, he had crossed his arms, and his leg went over his knee. He looked positively
cross at her, and it was his turn to flush.
“As for how pleasurable it is, I can assure you that if it is done correctly, then the level of satisfaction would be evident. Each man’s member is not like anyone else’s. They vary in lengths, girth, and—Emily, truly, you must cease asking me such inappropriate questions.”
Just as he shut his mouth, her sister-in-law returned and stood before them. “Is everything all right, you two?”
“Just wonderful.” The earl turned away, returning his attention to the curtains closing for the first act.
“Emily? You look like a cat who swallowed a caged bird.”
“All is perfectly well, Isabel. You need not worry.”
“If you are positive. Lord Avonlea, Nathaniel had made a request earlier, and it slipped my mind until now. He would like you to stay on at Stoughton Hall until the end of the week, if it is not too much trouble.”
His lordship mumbled and nodded. “Excuse me while I catch some air before the entertainment begins again.” Then, he disappeared.
I have offended him. She had the reputation for being the most obstinate chit London had ever laid eyes upon, and now, she had become the most scandalous one as well.
Chapter Five
Emily lay in wait for the old grandfather clock to chime twelve bells on the main floor of the manor. While Stoughton Hall was magnificent in size, the clock could be heard from any of the three floors, no matter from what room.
The house had been in a flurry getting the children ready for bed and her brother whisking his wife away for the evening. Even his lordship had retired early into his chambers at the end of this wing. She had quietly followed earlier to learn where she would find him and carry on their discussion from earlier.
Thoughts of her scandalous questions and her mind wandering to what a nude Lord Avonlea looked like, suddenly stirred an unfamiliar feeling in her belly. Dampness settled between her thighs. Even her nipples had stiffened to hard peaks beneath her cotton shift.
How would he perceive her after tonight? Would he deem her the most incorrigible female ever bestowed upon London? Or, would he call her a minx and throw her out of his room? Her only desire was to learn, to educate herself in the ways of pleasure for when her time came to be a wife. To become a wife in name was not an option, nor did she want to play second fiddle to another woman. Yet, the truth be told, Emily desired to get closer with the earl.
Suddenly, the image forever engrained upon her mind of a woman’s mouth wrapped around a manhood seemed more of a challenge. The kind of challenge that would certainly scandalize any respectable female. But she desired to know the intricacies of said intimate moments. Perhaps Charles would find it as pleasurable. Emily shook her head and pulled off her covers.
She rose from the bed and put on her slippers and robe. Using the utmost discretion, she opted to leave behind the candlestick and left her room in the dark, knowing all too well it was only the two of them in this side of the house.
Emily gently closed her chamber door and swept down the hall, pausing outside of his room. The glow of the fireplace danced across the floor under the door, but all was silent. Perhaps he was reading from the privacy of the curtained platform bed or standing in the window, basking in the view the west side of the manor offered.
She quietly opened his door and closed it behind her.
No one stirred, nor made a sound.
She took a step forward, parting her lips to call for him.
A soft moan caught her attention and uncertainty crept up her spine. She should not have proceeded, but went on to appease her curiosity. Stealing further into the room, she paused in the corner.
She caught sight of his lordship through the break of the curtains. Charle’s eyes were closed, chest exposed as his hand moved beneath the sheet barely covering his waist. Lord, he’s a sight to watch, but what exactly is he doing?
Emily moved closer, but could not make head or tails of his motions. That is, until he called out, “Emily.”
He moaned then kicked off his sheets.
Good heavens, the sight of him was impressive. Dark, curly hair dusted his chest. His muscles so refined that the creases begged her to touch them. Dampness settled between her thighs again. What the hell is wrong with me? Did he just moan out my name?
She could see clearly now as he stroked his manhood.
Emily gasped and stepped back, bumping into a chair. Drats!
Avonlea opened his eyes.
She lost all sense of what she had stumbled upon. She should not have been there, no matter how glorious or how beautiful he looked with his eyes closed, or how impressive his body appeared. She would land straight in purgatory for this sin and many others, but she stood at the edge of the platform still.
Charles reached for the sheet to cover himself, as he should, but Emily could not help but feel disappointed at the act of modesty. “You should not be here, young lady. What sort of devil are you, for sneaking upon a bachelor’s room as such?”
She pulled away the curtain and smiled upon the shocked earl. “I know this is thoroughly improper, my lord. But please do not let my presence stop you. I want to learn.”
He paled and choked at her demand. “Emily, you know not of what you ask. Your virtue is at risk, and your brother would challenge me. Never mind what the duke would say or do if he found out.”
“Sir, my lord, I care not for the dictates of proper decorum. You of all people should know that I do not follow the steps of most ladies, nor do I desire to do so. All my life, I have been dictated what to do and say, and now at the first opportunity of discovering what exactly my life would be like after leaving my family, I think not. Please, show me. I want to know what is so fascinating and sinful about the carnal acts between a man and woman.”
Emily climbed into bed next to him, her hand caressing the curves of his well-defined jaw, down to his neck and collarbone. His skin was smooth and bristled when her fingers ever so gently brushed against the hairs on his chest. “I think this moment proves I have no desire to give in to regular and proper decorum. You, my lord, are a walking sin. I beg of you, show me how to pleasure you. I want to learn.”
He grimaced and shook his head.
“Please.”
His member twitched beside her, and she turned to see the purplish crown of his…his… What did those novels call it? A cock.
“You realize what this means for you, Emily. If we are caught, you may not have a choice in what happens next. And as it stands, I am already at my threshold for what I can handle where you are concerned.”
What in the world does he mean?
He sat up and leaned into her. His cheeks flushed, and he held a gaze of hunger, equivalent to a beggar seeing a sweet roll for the first time in months. His hand rose to slide her shift off one shoulder. “Darling, show me how beautiful those breasts of yours look. I have been dying to know what they taste like,” he murmured.
Without hesitation, Emily untied the ribbon holding the front of her shift together. Her breasts spilled over, and he greedily went to work caressing them. His hands were soft to the touch, yet hard when he squeezed. He bent down and took one of her nipples into his mouth. The sensation rocked her. The familiar wetness from earlier suddenly pooled between her thighs once again. She whimpered as he sucked sharp and fondled her other breast.
“Please, my lord, allow me to pleasure you.”
“Is that what you desire, love? If it is, then there is no going back. If we are caught, you should know I will be expected to do the honorable thing and marry you. You might even end up a wealthy widow, as the duke may have me hung for this.”
“I only want you,” she admitted haphazardly as her hands rested on his head, twisting his hair into loose curls.
He removed one of his hands from her and guided her own to the thickness that lie in wait between his legs. He closed his hand around hers, and gently showed her how to pump along his length. His skin glistened with sweat, and he closed his eyes, mo
aning. She was drawn to his masculine scent and reveled how there was nothing more intoxicating.
Emily followed his instruction and kept at it until he pulled her close and gripped her long hair. “Do not stop, sweetheart. I am just about there.”
She continued to slide her palm underneath his, her own heart racing with each passing second. The thought someone could walk in on them at any given moment worried her, but at the same time excited her beyond reason. So what if my brother, mother, or a servant walks in? His lordship brings out the devil in me.
All her antics in school could not compare to the world of trouble she would face for this scandalous, sinful education of hers. Purgatory would surely be her resting place for certain, but as long as Lord Avonlea went with her, she would not mind her punishment.
“Emily, do not stop!”
Before she could bat a lash, his lordship grunted. She was sure her brother’s wing of the manor heard their foolishness. A wet and sticky substance dribbled down her hand, and the earl exhaled loudly, collapsing back onto the bed. Soon the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing.
“Lord Avonlea, are you well?”
“Perfect,” he mumbled as he slipped her shift farther down to her waist. “I could not be better, now that you are in my arms, my sweet.”
He did not just call me his sweet, did he? Yes, their moment together had been intense, and she was sure he had not compromised her virtue. Even more, why did he moan my name earlier? This man will be the death of me. “Tell me, did I do anything wrong, my lord?”
“Of course not, love. You were perfect, though I am not likely to give you up anytime soon. That, sweetheart, is what it feels like for a man. And now if you will permit, I would like to demonstrate that you, too, can experience the same bliss without losing your integrity.”
“Is it not the same, my lord?”
“Of course not, love. Let me show you what heaven can be like for a sweet, deserving angel as yourself, every day, several times a day. You ladies of society need to be reminded you are just as carnal as us men when you aren’t busy with the ton.”
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