“Not at all. I will simply take that as a sign that you like what I’m doing.”
“Oh…yes.”
That was all the encouragement he needed, because he began laving her lips. Licking and sucking and driving her to distraction. She was moaning and running her hands through his hair. She felt wet, not just from his mouth, but from inside her. She wasn’t sure what to do or say about that. An apology seemed in order, but had not the faintest idea of how it should be worded. But then he pressed one finger inside of her and all thoughts fled.
He slowly moved his finger in and out while he continued licking and suckling her. Heat was building within her and she was overwhelmed by sensation. The sounds excited her – his sucking and licking, her moans, her wetness that let his finger slide so easily into her. Just knowing this man was doing this to her was too much. She felt a pressure building, then finally, he pressed against her and she flew away.
It was like an explosion of sensation inside of her. Then she was floating as if in a dream. It had been too much to bear.
And she could not wait to do it again.
Then she came back to the here and now. She was in Joseph’s bed, her nightrail was hiked up to her waist and he was resting his head on her thigh. She looked down to see him studying her, a satisfied look on his face.
She had no idea what to say. She was at once embarrassed and perfectly at ease. But she could not quite look at him, so she averted her eyes, only to see him stroking himself.
Now that was interesting.
As soon as he caught her gaze, he pulled his hand away, embarrassed, and closed his dressing gown.
“No, please! Don’t stop.” The sight of him touching himself had filled her with longing, which was amazing considering how satisfied she was. “Pray continue or…”
“Or what, Evelyn?” he asked softly.
“Or teach me how to do that to you.”
His eyes were ablaze. “Do you really wish it?”
She could only nod, so intense was the moment. He tentatively took her hand, as if expecting her to change her mind. But he placed her hand on him and her fingers wrapped about his thick shaft, as if destined to be there. She gently squeezed and he sucked in a breath.
“Was that too hard?” she asked. “I am so sorry. I do not know what to do.”
“No, sweetheart, it was exactly right. Trust me. Just…” He moved her hand up and down on him.
She was shocked by how soft the skin was on a part of him that was impossibly hard. She liked the warmth of him and the way he was growing bigger and harder the more she stroked him. She also enjoyed the way he was slowly losing control.
Gone was the cool police inspector who was in control of himself and in charge of everyone else. In his place was a man who, despite his strength, was at her mercy. As she began to stroke harder and harder, he began to shake. She felt a surge of feminine satisfaction she’d never known before. But then he reached out and stilled her hand.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“We should stop.”
“Why?” She continued to stroke him as best as she was able, despite his grip on her.
“It will be….messy.”
Her eyes widened. “I do not mind.”
“I am afraid it will not be to your liking.”
“And I am almost sure it will be.”
“Then if you insist on continuing…”
“And I do.”
“Then we should make this more equitable.” He placed his hand at the heart of her, moving so they were lying on their sides facing each other. They were inches from each other, intimately touching. “I can do to you what you are doing to me.” He kissed her as first one finger entered her, then another. It was a deliciously snug fit and he groaned at the same time she did.
Then Evelyn remembered she had a task to do as well. She began stroking him as he did the same to her. She reveled in the intimacy of it. They were so close to each other, easily able to sup at each other’s lips. But she could not meet his eyes. This was all too new, too overwhelming. And she felt too vulnerable. But as they began stroking faster and harder, she could feel herself climb again toward the peak he’d taken her to before.
“Evelyn, look at me,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp.
Her eyes were drawn to his, then she could not look away. They were both breathing hard and their bodies were moving into each other’s hands. The intensity was almost unbearable, when suddenly she was seized again by the passion and just as she flew away, she felt him jerk once, twice, three times in her hand. Then warmth seeped out of him, which made her contractions start again.
For long moments afterwards, they lay next to each other, trying to catch their breath. Neither spoke. She could not speak. She could not put into words what she was feeling.
Finally, he looked around.
“What do you seek?” she asked.
“Something to clean me off you,” he said. “I told you it would create a mess.” He looked delightfully sheepish.
“And yet I look forward to experiencing the ‘mess’ once again.” The look he gave her was so intense she could feel it in her soul. But after a moment, he left the bed and padded over to the basin.
He came back to bed and gently wiped the evidence of his pleasure off her.
“Is there always this much?” she asked. “Not that I mind. I just didn’t know about…quantity.”
He grinned. “I must admit I have never done anything to measure the volume, though there does seem to be a fair amount. There’s usually more when I have not, uh released it for a while.”
That started her thinking about a whole host of issues. “How often do you release it?” she asked.
He cleared his throat and dedicated himself to eradicating every last drop from her person. “I have no regular bedmate, if that is what you are asking.”
“So you haven’t released in weeks or months?”
He busied himself cleaning as if being paid to do so. “Not exactly. It is possible to release on one’s own.”
It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. Then she blushed yet again. “Oh! Of course. Yes…well done.”
“Quite,” he said, swallowing back the beginnings of a laugh. “May I ask something of you that may not be in your power to give?”
She was afraid of what his request might be, but wholly unable to refuse him anything. She nodded.
“Will you sleep here beside me tonight? I have no wish to cause a scandal, but I long to feel you next to me in bed. To sleep beside you, though I risk Thompson poisoning me if he ever finds out.”
The thought of spending the night with him was both a dream come true and the most dangerous act she’d ever contemplated. But she nodded. There was simply no place else she’d rather be.
Joseph’s relief was palpable. “I shall make sure to wake you in time for you to return to your bed without being discovered by your maid. And thank you.”
He blew out the lone candle. She snuggled up next to him, pillowing her head on his chest, as if they lay like that every night. It was startling not just in its intimacy, but in its normalcy.
She’d best not think about that. So, instead, she simply closed her eyes and relished the moment.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Evelyn was still asleep when she became aware of light kisses on her cheeks, her forehead and her lips. She smiled as she realized where she was, then she blushed a bright red when she remembered what they’d done the night before. Despite the embarrassment, she pulled him closer, hoping to repeat their evening’s activities.
Joseph was clearly torn as he pulled back after a few heated kisses. “Dawn is fast approaching, sweetheart. You would not want to be absent from your bed when the maid comes to light the fire.”
She knew he was right, though she hated to leave him. And the warm bed. But he rolled away, donned his robe, then handed her the nightrail that had been discarded so many hours earlier. She was about to walk back to her r
oom, only to find herself swept up into his arms.
“I can walk,” she said, even as she put her arms around his neck.
“I am aware of that, but I would not want your feet to be cold.”
She felt certain her feet could withstand the trauma but had no wish to be put down, so she smiled and let him carry her. He paused at his door, checking to see that no one was in the hall, then swiftly walked to her bedchamber and entered. He deposited her in the bed, then pulled the blankets up around her.
Then he looked for all the world as if he were considering joining her.
Unfortunately, prudence won the day. “Until later, sweet Evelyn.” He kissed her softly, then departed.
Evelyn snuggled down into the bed, though it was a poor substitute for Joseph. She thought of the night before. The astounding pleasure, the incredible intimacy. And she realized that she would do whatever it took to repeat the experience with him. But she had no idea of how to go about it.
However, one thing was certain. She could not imagine sharing those intimacies with another man. It did not matter what deadline she had to meet. If retaining her fortune meant marrying a man other than Joseph, she would rather lose everything.
That was a rather illuminating thought.
* * *
Joseph was ten ways a fool. How had he forgotten himself the previous evening? And so thoroughly and enjoyably? He had no business at all treating a lady that way. Except she hadn’t felt like a forbidden lady when she was in his arms. She’d melted into him. He could still smell her essence on his hands. When he’d lowered her onto her bed he’d wanted to climb in beside her. Let her servants see them together. Then she’d have to marry him.
Except he would never embarrass her that way. And the last thing he wanted was a forced marriage. There were a few women who’d tried to trick him into matrimony, which was one of the reasons he never had relations without using French letters as a means of contraception. He understood how a woman might see marriage as a means of survival. Life was unfair to the female gender. But he did not know how a marriage that started in deception could ever grow into a happy union.
So, he would never do anything to dishonor Evelyn. He would never think of forcing the issue, even though the thought of her married to anyone else made him ill. He didn’t think he could allow her to marry the three local candidates. None was worthy. One might even be trying to harm her. If he ever got proof, that man would find himself in prison.
Or a grave.
He was unable to go back to sleep – his bed was too big, too lonely, too cold without Evelyn. So, once he heard the household up and about, he dressed and went down to breakfast, where he found Evelyn reading the paper.
Her face turned the most lovely shade of scarlet when he arrived. Her pupils dilated, her soft lips parted and he had everything he could do to prevent himself from carrying her back to his bedchamber, good intentions be damned.
But at that moment, the ever present, pain-in-the-arse Thompson cleared his throat. “Good morning, Inspector. Would you like me to fill a plate for you?”
“No, thank you, Thompson. I will do it myself.” Joseph busied himself piling his plate high with ham, kippers, eggs and scones, then returned to the table where Thompson had placed him opposite Evelyn. Where her husband would sit. Which bloody well wouldn’t be him. Fine, he would take the chair while he could. God knows he’d already availed himself of privileges only a husband should enjoy.
Which made him smile and tightened his groin.
Then he looked at Evelyn’s full plate that she was assiduously tucking into. Her shyness was touching, though he could not resist teasing her.
“Did you sleep well, my lady?”
She dropped her fork, which clattered all the way to the floor. Thompson was there immediately to hand her a new one.
“Yes, thank you, Inspector. I slept soundly, no doubt due to complete exhaustion. From the assembly, of course.”
He was now achingly hard and it was only the glower of the all-too-perceptive Thompson that kept him from asking Evelyn more about her night.
“I have been thinking, my lady.”
“Yes, Inspector?”
For a moment, he was lost in her eyes. But Thompson cleared his throat yet again – the man should really see about sipping some water – and brought him back to the present. “I believe we should set out for London today.”
“Why today?”
“Because I believe I have seen enough of your three local suitors to know you would be well served in looking farther afield.” All the way to the Orient, if necessary. “We can also consult with the solicitor to whom I sent your information, as well as meet with the Kellingtons and Riverton. Little would be gained by staying here.”
And another night spent in his bed would mean the loss of her innocence if she was as eager to come to him tonight as she had been last night.
Evelyn nodded. “If you feel it is wise, then we can set out today and make it to London before nightfall. Thompson, will you be so kind as to see to the preparations?”
“Of course, my lady.”
Thompson bowed himself out, leaving the two of them blessedly – or, depending on one’s perspective, damningly – alone.
“My lady. Evelyn.”
They were then interrupted by the entrance of a footman, no doubt sent by Thompson.
Evelyn’s eyes danced with laughter. “Perhaps, Inspector, we can continue this conversation later. I believe I have much to do before our departure. Shall we meet again in two hours?”
“Yes. That should give me time to pack and to take my leave of the servants at Jasmine Manor. I should not want them to think I had simply disappeared.” Though he strongly suspected they would not care about his whereabouts as long as they knew he was with Evelyn.
Kellington servants were a meddling lot. Well-meaning. But meddling.
After breakfast he rode Rocinante to Jasmine Manor, intent on speaking to the Keegans about his plans, only to stop short when he entered.
It was the bloody painting again.
“Ah, Inspector,” said Mr. Keegan as he made his way to the foyer. “Did you enjoy last night?”
Good Lord, did the Keegans have spies at Evelyn’s house? “Last night?”
“Yes, the Christmas assembly. It is one of the highlights of the year. I know Mrs. Keegan enjoyed dancing with you. And it appeared that Lady Evelyn was delighted with your waltz, as well. How may I help you, Inspector? You’re not moving back here, are you?” His whole tone changed at that last bit, as if Joseph were considering burning down the manor house.
“No. I wanted to inform you that Lady Evelyn and I will be travelling to London.”
“Splendid!” said Mr. Keegan. “Will you be taking the Lynwood coach?”
“Thank you, no. Lady Evelyn would like to take hers. Mr. Keegan, why does the painting keep changing?”
The duke and duchess were now seated much closer to each other. Their lips were but inches apart as a prelude to a kiss.
“I beg your pardon, Inspector. But the painting has not changed.”
“Of course it has. They are now seated close to each other and are about to kiss.”
“Are they, now?” Mr. Keegan walked slowly, as if each step pained him, then studied the painting. “I do not know what you mean.”
“Before, they were seated on opposite sides of the blanket. Then they moved closer and now they are almost touching.”
Mr. Keegan turned his rheumy eyes to Joseph. “But paintings do not move, sir.”
“Then you must have more than one.”
“No, just the one of them in the garden. And I assure you this is as it has always been.”
“But it was not this way when I arrived.”
“You were recovering from a gunshot wound and might have been hallucinating ever so slightly. Anyone would in such circumstances.”
“But then, they moved closer to each other. I noticed that after I spent time with Lady Evelyn.�
��
Mr. Keegan smiled and shook his head. “That is quite impossible.”
“And now they are about to kiss.”
“I hesitate to ask, Inspector. But did you, uh, partake of any liquid refreshments last night?”
Joseph drew himself up. “Sir, I am not suffering the ill effects of overindulgence.”
“I am sure you are not. But if you were to suffer such a thing, Mrs. Keegan makes an excellent tonic. Master Hal proposed marriage to her one morning after taking her concoction.”
“I cannot believe you would bring that up,” said Mrs. Keegan, as she slowly made her way across the foyer. “Though I do believe I’m the only woman he ever proposed to until Lady Melanie came along. When do you think we can meet Lady Melanie, Lady Vanessa, Lady Jane and her grace? If there’s anything you can do to speed that along, Inspector, we would most appreciate it. Is there something we can do for you?”
“He thinks the painting is moving,” said her husband.
“In what direction?”
“The duke is about to kiss the duchess,” said Joseph, wondering what was wrong with the couple. While they were advanced in years, he found their faculties to be in excellent condition, save for the vexing matter of the painting.
“Why it’s splendid that they’re about to kiss, isn’t it, dear?”
“Yes, my love,” said Mr. Keegan. “It is. Now, Inspector, we do not wish to delay you on your return to Lady Evelyn. But if you need anything from us, you need only but say. Will you be taking your fine mount with you?”
“I may have one of Lady Evelyn’s grooms ride him. I cannot imagine he would like to be tethered to the back of the coach. He has not forgiven me for subjecting him to it on the way here. And I would like to have him in London.”
“Of course you would,” said Mrs. Keegan, patting him on the cheek. “He is a fine animal. Now off you go back to your Lady Evelyn.”
“She is not ‘my’….”
“Remember to do what you can to encourage the Kellington ladies to visit and we shall see you on your return,” continued Mrs. Keegan as if he had not said a word.
* * *
Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) Page 11