Lizzie's Earl: Sexy Regency Romance (The heir and a spare Book 3)

by Fiona Miers

  “Make sure you don’t need us,” Rupert growled at the young groom, the man nodding in understanding as he led the horses back for a much needed rest.

  Rupert stalked after Lizzie through the heavy rain, stepping into the clean, spare stables and shaking his hair. Lizzie had removed her wet coat, hat and gloves and was inspecting her riding habit for damage.

  Rupert ripped off his own jacket and stepped purposefully towards the woman who had been tormenting him with desire for weeks.

  Chapter 8.

  “No, I want to talk.” Lizzie cried, bringing her hands up to the large chest in front of her and pushing him back. She knew if he started to kiss her she would never be able to say what she needed to say.

  Rupert’s full mouth compressed into a thin line, but he nodded and stepped back.

  Lizzie sat down upon one of the hay bales and gestured for Rupert to sit also. He was far too tall for to remain standing if she was to sit. Lizzie felt like a pixie standing next to him. He was as big as an oak, and just as dense if he thought she would allow him to treat her the way he had treated his other ladies.

  “Tell me how you found out where I was and why you left London to see me,” Lizzie demanded, looking directly into his brilliant blue//black eyes. She was learning to read his face and didn’t want to miss any subtle changes in expression.

  Rupert blinked.

  “I didn’t like how we ended our conversation the other day and I hoped to change your mind.”

  “But you don’t wish to marry.” Lizzie reiterated, making sure that they understood exactly where the other stood on this topic. Her needs hadn’t changed in that department, though she may have been ready to rethink her strategy.

  “No.” Rupert said quietly, almost regretfully.

  “Tell me why.” she said quietly, knowing that Rupert pretended to be a classic, thoughtless, unfeeling rake, but he really wasn’t so. She was convinced that she couldn’t desire someone with no heart, no soul, no feelings for others. There had to be more to him than what was obvious to others.

  “Marriage is for men who want to stop living the life they have.” Rupert spouted, throwing in a charming smile. That was an attempt to escape her interrogation, she was sure.

  “Do you still see your mistress?” Lizzie asked, watching his face carefully, ready to pounce on any sign of lying.

  “No.” Rupert told her, looking her directly in the eyes.

  “Why not?”

  She knew that Rupert had convinced himself that he wasn’t ready to marry, but if he had given up his mistress just so he could be with her, didn’t that indicate a stronger than normal desire?

  “We had tired of each other.” Rupert smiled charmingly and Lizzie saw the truth in that statement. However, he wasn’t telling her the whole truth, she could see his eyes were shadowed. There was something he didn’t want her knowing, she was sure.

  “Do you have a new one?” Lizzie asked, as lightly as possible. Could he have found someone else in the past few days?

  “No, not yet.” Rupert said quietly, his eyes beginning to burn in insinuation.

  “Why not?” Lizzie asked, pushing for more information. It seemed that he was willing to change his life for her, travelling out of London and giving up his mistress, but for how long would this last?

  “Because I want you.” Rupert declared, with soul burning intensity.

  “Only me?” Lizzie asked, standing up on shaking legs.

  Rupert twitched uncomfortably, obviously not liking where the conversation was leading.

  “Lizzie...”

  “Only me.” She repeated, this time more demand than question.

  Rupert nodded sharply and Lizzie mimicked the move, happy in part.

  “Tell me more about why you don’t wish to marry.” She asked again. If she was going to throw away her morals and indulge in a purely physical affair with Rupert, then she needed to know more about him.

  “I told you...” He began, his eyes flashing with temper.

  “No, you lied to me, I can tell. Tell me the real reason.” Lizzie demanded, all five foot four inches of her body rigid and determined.

  *****

  Rupert looked away and tapped his fingers against his knees for a moment, then finally spoke.

  “Because, unless I can have a marriage like Archie’s and Oliver’s, I don’t wish to marry.”

  “You think it’s impossible to have a union like those of your friends?” Lizzie asked, surprised he felt that way. Surely Rupert could see that if his friends could find happiness, he could also do so.

  “Not impossible, but a love match is rare in our society. The norm is to be trapped into a marriage as are most of the ton gentlemen, or even into a forced into one owing to circumstance. I don’t want a union… like my brother’s.” Rupert all but whispered the last words.

  Lizzie let a breath out slowly, her heart aching at the pain she heard in Rupert’s words, but she pushed forward regardless. She needed to know why he was so terrified of the one thing she craved so much.

  “Tell me, why is it so horrible?”

  His lips twisted and his brow furrowed. “My brother’s marriage started out with mutual affection, but as the desire for a male heir has brought more and more daughters, any real feelings that were once there between them have turned into hatred,” Rupert explained, almost choking on the words.

  “Is that why you are so adamant you don’t want to marry yet? You don’t want to be your brother’s heir, so you’re letting it turn you off marriage entirely?” Lizzie asked, her mouth falling open.

  That was not rational, although she understood his abhorrence to the weight placed upon him. Since his brother had failed to provide a legitimate male heir, Rupert would now be responsible for siring the next Earl of Sweeting. He would hate to have that forced upon him, especially if it meant marrying for a reason other than love, as his friends had.

  “But your brother has five daughters. Can’t daughters also inherit their father’s estate in the absence of a male heir?” said Lizzie. “Why shouldn’t the next incumbent of the Sweeting estate be a countess instead of an earl?”

  Rupert shook his head. “Tradition,” he replied. “The title of our house has always been carried by a male heir. Anything else is unthinkable.”

  “This bias against female heirs is ridiculous,” said Lizzie, with passion. “Traditions have to change.”

  “They won’t change so easily,” replied Rupert. “Not in our time at least. Can you imagine how ridiculous it would be to have the title holder of the Sweeting estate unable to attend to her duties because she is confined due to pregnancy?”

  “I would love it if you could have the courage to say that to our friend Charlotte, the Countess of Tother,” said Lizzie, drily. “She hasn’t allowed pregnancy to confine her one little bit. She’ll be the next de facto Marquess of Hunting, mark my words. Besides, have you forgotten? England has already had several queens. Queen Elizabeth was one of the greatest sovereigns England ever produced. So how can your brother allow this bias against females to destroy his marriage and pressurise you? I think it’s ridiculous.” She sniffed to show her disgust.

  “Ah, Lizzie, good Queen Bess was a rare exception. She was uncommon. The truth is, a male heir is always better for the family, the estate and the entire country. Female heirs in general just destabilize the natural order.”

  Lizzie could feel her anger rising at Rupert’s words, but she decided to keep her anger in check for the present time at least.

  “Marriage is so final. even if you don’t suit with someone you’re stuck with them for life.” Rupert muttered, standing up and staring out the window, brushing dirt from his palms.

  “That is very true.” Lizzie sighed. She knew that only too well. Even in the few months she’d been married, she had often wished she hadn’t been tied indefinitely to a man who would rather bet on a horse race than spend an evening with her.

  Rupert turned to face her suddenly, his eyes bl
azing with passion. He wet his lips with his tongue. She could feel her gaze drawn to the fullness of his bottom lip.

  “We’d have something so much better, Lizzie. We could spend time together, talk, enjoy each other’s company. And then part if we tire of each other.” He urged her, opening his hands with his palms up in a gesture of hope.

  “And if we didn’t tire of each other?” she asked, voicing her most worrying concern. Lizzie knew Rupert would most likely get tired of her once he had enjoyed her body a few times, but she wasn’t so sure she would feel the same way. The man in front of her was changing, and his beauty was now shining brighter than it ever had. He was as honest as a child, as passionate as a rogue. He was a man she could love with all her heart and if he couldn’t love her in return, she would surely be crushed.

  Her question still hung in the air.

  “Then, we marry.” Rupert choked out these words, his discomfort evident as he shuffled his feet.

  “That simple, is it?” Lizzie asked, placing her hands on her hips as anger continued to stir in her belly. What if she, after spending time with him, decided she didn’t want to marry him? Had he thought about that? Big rake that he was, could she trust him not to break her heart every night he didn’t come home?

  “Would you not marry me if asked?” Rupert cocked his head to the side as he stepped closer to her.

  “I don’t know, and you won’t either unless you ask in earnest.” Lizzie shot back, annoyed that he couldn’t see how much more she wanted from him. She may have been contented with lukewarm affection from another gentleman, but from Rupert, she would require his whole heart.

  “I am the heir to an earl,” Rupert explained, with a smooth voice and a smile, oozing tonnish charm and creeping closer still.

  Lizzie wanted to laugh, but stuck her nose in the air instead.

  “I don’t care about any of that. I have money and an estate. I want a man who loves me, Rupert. Who desires me…”

  “I desire you,” Rupert growled, now within touching distance.

  “My body you desire, not me as a person.” Lizzie reminded him, annoyed despite her resolution not to be. She was so much more that a lump of flesh to be fondled, didn’t he see that?

  “No, I desire a woman who can speak five languages, is honest as the day is long and wants children beside her, not just in the nursery,” Rupert growled again, unknowingly spouting off the words that would draw her in completely. Did he understand her? Could he want her for who she really was?

  Lizzie swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat. She couldn’t take it anymore. He was so close now, she could feel the heat of his breath and her body ached with need for him.

  “Kiss me, please.” She couldn’t take any more of this banter. There was no one around to hear them or see them and she wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her.

  Rupert moved forward and swooped, his lips diving to capture hers. He wrapped his strong hands around her waist and lifted her high on him. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and opened her mouth to his searching tongue.

  ‘Finally,’ something inside of them both cried, and they each moaned in unison.

  Rupert kissed her deeply as he walked the few feet to one of the stable walls and pressed her up against it. The wall was dirty and hard, but Lizzie didn’t care, she needed him closer. He held her there with one hand under her bottom and using his other hand; he tugged her bodice down to give him access to one breast.

  Lizzie cried out as he exposed her breast, arching her back to encourage his touches. He dipped his head and licked the tip, suckling her gently.

  “Oh Lizzie, I want you so,” Rupert groaned against her skin, thrusting his pelvis into Lizzie’s open thighs and pressing her higher on the wall.

  Lizzie moaned in response and tugged on Rupert’s hair so that he would bring his lips back to hers. She needed him everywhere. Her mouth wanted his kisses, her breast wanted his touches and between her legs, she was beginning to feel wet and hot and damn uncomfortable.

  Rupert thrust his tongue into her open mouth, and she sucked on the hard muscle, drawing it deeper into her mouth. She broke away, panting as she ground against him.

  “Yes, Rupert, please, now.” Lizzie panted, unable to breathe. She was on fire. Rupert’s hardness was pressing against the sensitive spots between her legs. She had never realised that they could be so sensitive, but they were giving her unknown pleasure already. Liquid fire raced in her belly. She needed him there. She had never felt like this before. Lizzie suddenly understood why people coupled for more than procreation.

  Rupert continued kissing her, pulling away only to dip his head and draw her breast back into his mouth. Lizzie arched her spine to give him unrivalled access and rotated her hips to entice him further.

  Rupert groaned, but did not move to touch between her legs, where she was aching for him. Lizzie began to thrash. She was ready to bed. What else could she do to encourage him to hurry up? She needed him, and he didn’t seem to feel the same way. Why wasn’t he laying her down to join with her?

  “Please Rupert,” she begged again, pulling his face back up to her so that he could look into her eyes. Frantic brown met smouldering blue/black. Then something strange came over Rupert’s face, something desperate.

  “Tell me you want me,” he demanded, rucking up her skirts in hard, measured tugs until he was pressing against the slit in her thin drawers.

  Lizzie moaned and tilted her pelvis in an invitation as old as time.

  Rupert gasped as his fingers came into contact with her skin, his gaze snapping up to meet with hers.

  “Where do you want me?” He asked almost incoherently, Lizzie understood him.

  “Here,” she panted, pressing one of her hands between her legs and in return caressing him. She ran her hand over him and marvelled at the hardness there, feeling an intense kick of female satisfaction when Rupert closed his eyes in pleasure and moaned.

  “What do you need, Lizzie, tell me,” Rupert urged again. Lizzie heard the words, but could barely understand him. She knew the tone, though.

  “This, please,” Lizzie panted again, caressing him boldly over his breeches again. This time, she concentrated on the hard, rather considerable length of flesh beneath her palm. She flattened her hand against him and realised she didn't contain most of him. Was she going to be able to do this?

  An inhuman noise rumbled out of Rupert’s chest, and Lizzie practically heard his control snap. Holding her effortlessly against the wall with his body, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, Rupert tore open the buttons of his breeches. Lizzie cried out as the coiled tightness in her belly built up.

  His fingers probed the slit in her drawers and then he ripped open the material, cold air drifting over her hot, wet nether regions.

  Lizzie could feel the violence in him, in the tremble of his shoulders, the hard rock strength of his body. Instead of being afraid of him, what he could do to her, she revelled in it. She wanted to encourage him to an even greater need than he was already feeling. She wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him, to the exclusion of all others. She moaned when his warm and gigantic hands cupped her bare buttocks and positioned her. Apprehension made her go very still. She wanted him desperately, but would it be as uncomfortable with Rupert as it had been with her husband?

  No, this would be different. She was sure of it!

  The worry flew out of her head as quickly as it had arrived when Rupert ran his fingers between her legs, rubbing her over and over again. She jumped and gasped as heated sparks tingled in her legs, in her belly, making her nipples ache and her insides throb with wanting. Lizzie couldn’t help the moans that bubbled out of her throat, a pleasure that was unknown to her until now, coursing through her veins, her body clenching in anticipation of what was to come.

  Rupert gripped her hips and positioned her body so that the head of his engorged penis lay at her entrance and pressed in slowly. Lizzie grabbed tighter
to his shoulders as he slid in effortlessly, her tight, wet core gripping him. The ache inside her body sighed in relief, but there was more to come, she was sure of that. Rupert grunted and plunged to the hilt, burying himself completely within her tiny body.

  Lizzie gasped in surprise and clung tighter to the man in her arms. He was so much larger than her husband had been. The breadth, and length of him was almost overwhelming. Her greedy body welcomed him. There was no pain, only pressure and an incredible feeling of fullness where she had been empty and aching.

  Rupert stilled thankfully, holding himself there, deep inside her body. The feeling of fullness relaxed and the need in her belly still tugged at her.

  Rupert seemed to be shaking from the strain and gasping for breath.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Rupert asked, gruffly.

  Lizzie saw the concern and something odd fluttered near her heart again. He cared. Despite the fact that he was buried deep inside her, he had stopped to ask about how she was feeling. He hadn’t continued what he’d been doing despite her feelings. He was waiting, for her to say it was all right. She had expected pleasure from a man as experienced as Rupert, but she had not expected so much care. Tears of surprise and joy came to her eyes and silently slipped down her cheeks.

  Lizzie watched Rupert’s face crumple and then move her, as though he was trying to dislodge her. That wonderful feeling of fulfilment and fullness was about to be taken away from her. She cried out in distress, and her body clamped down on him. Internally, she was pulling him back inside and externally, she was wrapping her arms and legs around him like a limpet on a rock.

  “No,” she cried, grabbing his jaw with both hands and pulling his face back to hers. She kissed his surprised mouth and pulled back only a tiny bit so that she could whisper against his lips, “I need you, please don’t stop.”

  Rupert stared into her eyes as though determining her honesty, his gaze wide and searching. Then his mouth tightened, and he grabbed her arse, thrusting back into her, hard.