To Be Wicked with You: League of Unweddable Gentlemen, Book 4

by Gill, Tamara

  They arrived back at the mews of his townhouse, and Finn helped Evie return inside, ordering the house staff to bring up water for a bath. He fought not to cringe at the scent permeating off her clothing, which would have to be burned.

  “I’m humiliated,” she said beside him as he helped her up the stairs. Thankfully the urine had missed her hair and had merely hit her back first before running down the rear of her gown. “I’m so sorry, Finn. Your carriage may never smell the same again.”

  He chuckled, taking her arm and pulling it around his own. “You’ll be clean soon, and the carriage is nothing. It wasn’t your fault that it happened.”

  “Thank you, Finn.”

  Finn walked her to her door, opening it for her. “I’ll send a maid up to help you undress and prepare for your bath. It will be up soon, and then you’ll feel better.”

  “Since I’m a woman, standing before you and smelling of someone else’s bodily fluid, you’re very sweet to say so.”

  He tipped up her chin, leaning down and kissing her, not caring if any of his household staff saw them. “Enjoy your bath, Evie. I’ll have lunch sent up to you on a tray if you wish.”

  “Thank you,” she said, stepping into the room and gifting him one last look before closing the door. Finn took a calming breath, pushing away the thought of her stripping off her clothes and stepping into the hot, fragrant bathwater.

  Naked.

  He groaned, forcing his feet to his room to change. He could pursue her without impediment once Lucy was married and voiding his understanding with her once and for all. And then, then, he could pursue what was becoming a little bit of an obsession.

  Evie.

  Chapter 13

  Evie stared a moment as the door closed, separating her and duke once more. It was becoming harder and harder to keep her distance from him, from asking him if what she was starting to suspect was between them was only on her side.

  She did not think that was the case, but it was hard to tell what the duke was thinking most of the time unless those times were when he was kissing her, and then she knew what he was feeling.

  A knock sounded, startling her, and she opened the door, a little disappointed to see footmen carrying a large hip bath and buckets, a maid behind them also with drying linens and a cake of soap. Evie stepped back, bidding them enter and watched as they set it up before the stoked fire, giving her inspecting glances now and then.

  She supposed she deserved their inspection. She was, after all, an unmarried woman living under the same roof as their master. They probably thought she was his mistress, but the way she felt right at this moment, she did not feel very mistress-like. She felt like a cesspit.

  The maid helped her undress, and Evie dismissed her, asking her to burn the gown immediately. Both Lucy and she were used to bathing on their own and not needing anyone to help. The water was fragrant and smelled of lavender, and she tested the heat with her foot before stepping into the bath, lowering herself.

  Bliss was the first thought that slipped into her mind. Utter bliss. Evie lay back in the bath, sliding the soap through her fingers as she lathered it. She leaned forward, washing her shoulders before lying back and raising one leg to clean it. The terrible stench that had followed her from St. Giles was gone, and she was thankful for it. How anyone could throw such contents on an unsuspecting person was beyond her.

  Her mind whirred with thoughts of the duke. Her hands slipped over her skin, and she closed her eyes, thinking of his hands on her flesh, teasing and caressing her body, clasping her breasts and kissing her nipples.

  She sighed, wanting him in such a way. No one kissed someone as the duke kissed her. Not unless they were lovers or at least on the path of becoming so. The idea of taking the duke to her bed was not such a scandalous thought, not anymore at least. The night at the inn when he had laid upon her on the bed, his hardness teasing her wet flesh made her breathing hitch. Oh, to be back at the Bear Inn once again. Alone with the duke.

  “Evie?”

  The sound of his voice so close behind her rent a squeal from her and she sat forward in the water, covering herself. “Finn,” she said, using his given name. “What are you doing here?”

  “I apologize, I thought you would’ve been out of the bath by now.”

  She turned and noted he was just inside the door, and yet so lost in her own musings, she didn’t hear him enter or close the door behind him.

  “I was covered in human excrement. I may be a little while in the bath.” Evie dipped into the water to try to cover her nakedness. A pointless exercise. She could see her nudity under the clear water, and she had little doubt that the duke could as well.

  “I did consider it, and then I ignored that consideration.”

  Evie looked over her shoulder, meeting his gaze. She shivered at the longing she read in his blue orbs. He looked wretched, lost, and confused, and her heart did a little flip in her chest. The past few days had been some of the most enjoyable of her life. She could not understand why Lucy would throw over this wonderful, honorable man for someone else.

  The duke was a catch to any woman, and yet he was in her room, alone, and she was naked. Her friends would be scandalized should they know the improper thoughts that were running through her mind. Of all the things that one could do with a man that no woman of intact virtue ought to know.

  But she’d read enough books in her seven and twenty years to know what happened between a man and a woman. To do those things with the duke made her shiver and ache in places she’d never ached before.

  She reached for the drying cloth on the nearby chair and standing, wrapped it around herself before turning toward the duke. “What do you really want, Finn?” she asked, not just for tonight, but always. Did he want a rich, noble wife to be his duchess, or would a woman from Wiltshire with no money and no connections satisfy his aristocratic blood?

  “I want you,” he said at length, striding across the room and hoisting her up in his arms. Evie gasped, letting go of her inhibitions and her towel and simply held on to him, wrapping her arms about his neck and kissing him as fiercely as he kissed her.

  His clothing was rough against her nakedness, but changed now back into clothing that was suitable for a duke, his attire was soft and smelled fresh and clean. She wrapped herself about him, hooking her legs around his back and pressed her aching sex against his.

  He moaned through their kiss, spinning her and walking backward toward the bed. He carried her as if she weighed nothing at all and deposited her on her bed. She bounced once, and she giggled.

  The duke didn’t move from the end of the bed, his gaze hungrily devouring her form. He ran a hand across his jaw before stripping off his coat and tearing at his cravat. “I want you. No one else. Only you.”

  His words sent a bolt of heat to lick up her spine, and hope bloomed in her chest. Did he truly mean it? She hoped that he did. She kneeled on the bed, reaching out to help him undress. She wanted him too, ached with the need of him.

  Together, they stripped him of his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat, his articles of clothing pooling about his feet. The sight of his muscled chest made her mouth water. Evie ran her hand over the corded muscles that flexed under her touch and each ragged breath the duke took. Finn was warm, his heart beating a fast crescendo of need. She had done that. Made him want her, and no one else.

  “We shouldn’t do this, Evie.” His words were breathless and held a hint of regret in them. He was torn between doing what was right and expected of a gentleman and what they both wanted. And right now, Evie wanted him and be damned what etiquette they were breaking.

  “You do not want me?” she teased, her hands dipping to his breeches to unhook the buttons keeping all of him from her.

  He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath rasping against her face. “Damn it, yes, I want you, but we’re not married. This is wicked.”

  Evie met his gaze as her fingers slipped the first button on his breeches free. “We’re c
onsenting adults, Finn. There is nothing wrong with what we’re going to do.” She needed this, even if for one night. To lose herself with a man who made her blood sing and her body yearn.

  He raised one brow, not moving to push her hands away. “Are you sure you wish to do this?” he asked, his hand stemming hers as she undid one more of the buttons on his breeches.

  “Oh yes, we’re doing this,” she replied, slipping the button free.

  He leaned forward, kissing her neck. A shiver rocked through her, and she slid her hand inside his breeches, touching him for the first time. His manhood was ridged, long and wide, and yet the skin was the softest she’d ever felt before, like steel encased in velvet. His hand clasped over hers, showing her without words what he liked.

  What she liked too.

  “You enjoy that?” she asked, when he moaned, nipping the skin on her neck.

  “Fuck yes,” he groaned, the use of the word shocked and pleased her. He wasn’t so much the proper duke. Not always. Not with her and not like this.

  They tumbled onto the bed, and she slipped her legs about his waist, wanting the weight of him, his body against hers. His chest brushed her breasts, her nipples hard little peaks that ached for his touch. Evie pressed against him, wanting him to soothe the ache that he made.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said between kisses as he made his way down to her breasts, his tongue tasting her skin, his teeth giving sweet little bites along the way. She could lose herself in the arms of this man. Envy and jealousy rippled through her that he had been betrothed to her sister, that had Lucy not run away with another man, that right now it could be her sister in his arms.

  Evie pushed the unhelpful, troubling thoughts aside. She would not think of such a horror. The duke was kissing her, had her beneath him in her bed within his home. She would fight for what she wanted, and she wanted him—all of him tonight and every night after.

  She spiked her fingers through his hair as his mouth covered one nipple, his tongue lathing at her sensitive flesh. Evie held on to him and let go of all her troubles, her secrets, and simply let herself enjoy.

  Finn.

  Finn was going to hell and heaven from the feel of Evie beneath him. To seduce a woman only days after his betrothed had run off with another man was not the act of a gentleman. Yet nothing save a natural disaster would tear him away from Evie’s delectable body right at this moment. Her breasts, in particular, were the perfect size for his hands.

  Evie gasped his name, a husky pant that told him more than anything that she enjoyed his touch. She rubbed against him, a siren stretch that pushed her soaking mons against his aching cock, and for a moment, his mind went blank. He pressed against her, giving her what they both wanted, and he fought not to guide himself into her sweet cunny.

  “You’re teasing me, Finn. Stop teasing me,” she gasped, her fingers tangling into his hair and pulling a little.

  Oh, how he loved the sound of his name on her lips. Of how she undulated, thrust, and kissed him with such abandonment, not caring that he was a duke, a wealthy peer of the realm. She saw him as a man who could give her pleasure and company. He would marry this woman once her sister was settled with Mr. Brown. He’d not always wanted a woman of similar age to his, but he could not see himself with anyone else but Evie. That she was from Wiltshire, his home county, and fulfilled all of his father’s decree was not to be overlooked either.

  He reached down between them, placing himself at the tip of her wet cunny and pushed into her heat. She was so warm and tight that he bit back a groan. Impatient minx that Evie was, she lifted her hips, pushing him a little farther into her. He gasped at the pleasure of it, fighting the urge to thrust all the way in.

  “Damn it, Finn. Take me. I’m aching for you. Surely you can feel how much I want you.”

  “I feel it, love,” he said, ignoring the endearment that slipped naturally from his lips. He was merely caught up in the moment, nothing more. He soothed the part of him that wanted to panic at such blandishment. She moved again, and this time he thrust into her, making her his. She threw her head back, moaning at his intrusion. Finn breathed deep, bracing himself and kissed her neck, taking his time to suckle on the little vein that ran down from her ear to her shoulder.

  Her skin was sweet and smelled of springtime, of jasmine and delicious honeyed things. So good. He wanted to lick and taste her all over. He thrust deeper still, hoisting her legs high on his hips to take her fast and sure.

  “Finn,” she moaned, her hands sliding down his back to caress his ass. “Oh yes.”

  For a moment he lost all ability to think straight, he thrust hard and deep, giving her what she wanted, and he too. The slap of their skin sounded loud in the room, a symphony of desire or pleasure and the most satisfying sound he’d heard in an eon. He wasn’t a rakehell, a rogue who slept his way through the widows of the ton, or the whores who plied their trades at Covent Garden. He’d kissed women, yes, had one mistress whom he’d parted with once he’d heard he had to find a wife and within sixty days, but never before had he wanted to please a woman as much as he wanted to please Evie.

  Not just here and now with her beneath him, with him ruining her completely, but with other things too. He would make her his duchess. Some would say he was an ass to go from one sister to the other, but he was under a time restraint, and Lucy did choose another to be her husband. He couldn’t marry someone of his ilk, of his rank or wealth, but nor did he want to. Not after getting to know Evie better.

  He wanted her.

  Evie rolled him onto his back and straddled him. Finn gasped, not having expected her to do such a thing.

  “I want to try it this way.” She wiggled a little on his cock, and he sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to come. She stilled above him. “Oh, I did not hurt you, did I, Finn?”

  God no she did not. There was no pain between them, only pleasure, satisfying pleasure ripping through him. “No, not at all. By all means, please continue.”

  Her palms pushed down against his chest, and she levered herself up and down on him, sending his wits to spiral. He had not expected her to be so astute or so adventurous for her first time. Not that he was complaining, he would take all and everything that she offered him.

  His cock was like steel, his balls ached with the need to spend, and the sight of her breasts rocking above his face did little to stem his desire to fuck her, take what he wanted until he shot his seed deep into her.

  Finn clasped her hips, anchoring her to him and helped her to ride his cock. She fell into a rhythm, and he bit the side of his mouth, trying to stem his release. “Fuck that feels good,” he said, thrusting into her each time she slipped down onto him.

  Their joining became frantic, and then the most perfect, most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld in his life blossomed above him. Evie threw back her head, moaning his name as her sex tightened and contracted about his cock, pulling his release to mix with hers.

  He spent his load, enjoyed her milking him of every little ounce before she slumped onto his chest, the beat of her heart coinciding with his.

  “Well,” she gasped, her head nestled under his chin. He felt the lightest kiss on his chest, and he closed his eyes, reveling in her touch. “That was simply exquisite and something that I do believe I’d enjoy doing again.”

  He chuckled, rolling her to the side of him before hoisting her up against his body, keeping her close. “Do you now,” he said, teasing her and knowing full well that now that he’d had her once, he would have her again. And again, and possibly again after that before he had to return to his room in the morning.

  “Oh yes,” she said, glancing up at him. This close, he could see her luminescent brown orbs and the little flecks of copper in them. Something in his chest thumped hard, and he reached out, slipping a piece of her hair behind her ear that had fallen over one eye.

  “Well then, as a gentleman, you know that I can deny you nothing. If that is your wish, then I am at your command.”


  A wicked little grin slipped onto her delectable mouth, a mouth he would never get tired of kissing, he was sure. “Hmm, at my command. How much I like to hear those words. I shall keep you accountable to your offer, Finn.”

  He leaned down, unable not to taste her again. Their kiss lingered, heated, and his cock stirred. Damn it, he was a rascal. He’d just deflowered a virgin. He could not have her again so soon. He ought to be horsewhipped.

  “Please do, I look forward to a repeat performance.”

  “As do I,” she said, kissing him anew and stripping him of all sense and gentlemanly manners.

  Evie woke the next morning late, turned to glance at Finn and found nothing but a cold bed and linen that was decidedly empty of one gentleman duke. She sat up, glancing about her room. The small table before the fire was set with a delicious-looking breakfast of warm bread, ham, and eggs. A pot of tea steamed, all but begging her to the table. Evie pushed the blankets aside, slipped a shift over her naked self, and started toward the table.

  The fire, newly stoked, radiated warmth. Evie smiled down at the food, knowing Finn had not been long in here, looking after her after their night of bliss. A night she was decidedly hopeful would be repeated often.

  How wonderful it was to be in his arms, to be loved and caressed, adored, and kissed until she did not think she could bear much more of it. Evie sat on the chair closest to the fire and picked up the pot of tea, pouring herself a cup, adding a drop of milk just as she liked. That he’d had sent up such a delicious breakfast for her told her more than anything else that he cared.

  Could his caring for her lead to more? That she did not know, but she was an always optimistic person, and she would fight to make him like her as much as she feared she was starting to like him.

  The door to her room opened and in Finn walked. Dressed in tan breeches and blue jacket, he had forgone a waistcoat and simply wore a shirt and cravat. His hair still damp from his wash that morning. “Good morning,” she said, unable to hold back the little grin his presence brought forth on her face.