In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Violet Hamers

  “I hate you,” she whispered and raised her eyes to his again.

  He smiled, with the smallest shake of his head.

  “No, you do not.”

  He closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was instantly passionate. Cleopatra pulled at Alexander’s lapels, dragging him down toward her as their lips moved together. They moved as though it was a dance they had done many times before, knowing just how to explore one another.

  Alexander growled – a vibration from the back of his throat as he parted her lips with the gentlest of nips. She nearly whimpered in response, feeling herself backed up against the curve of the piano again.

  Cleopatra’s hands were still shaking as she pulled even harder at his jacket, but they were not shaking from fear this time. It was excitement and need. The feeling of desire consumed her, the only sense she could make of the emotion was a need to be closer to him.

  Closer.

  She tugged his jacket open, popping the buttons. He did not complain in any way. His hands moved from the piano to remove the jacket from his shoulders – it dropped behind him to the floor with a soft thud of cloth on wood. Then his hands returned to her, cradling the curve of her waist.

  He deepened the kiss, making her moan as her hands lifted to his waistcoat. She placed her palms on his chest and gently traced him, trying to discern the features beneath the cloth, but there was too much in the way.

  He pulled back from her lips, moving his kiss down to her neck. It sent a thrill of excitement through her body as he settled on the place just above her collar bone, focusing on a spot that was driving her mad. Her fingers involuntarily dug at his waistcoat in response.

  When she saw her action had opened one of the buttons, she started pulling at the rest of them. She did not contemplate her actions; she just did what her body was begging her to do. It was as though a fire had been stoked in her stomach and nothing except more exploration of the Earl would satisfy it.

  She brushed the waistcoat over his shoulders to the floor and made quick work of his cravat too, leaving him in the shirt that hung loose, revealing a glimpse of chest.

  He returned his lips to hers, distracting her from her goal. She closed her eyes and explored him with her hands instead, dipping her fingers beneath his shirt and tracing the muscles there. Her fingers brushed his body, tingling with each movement.

  Her admiration of him the first night she had seen him in that carriage was right. He was broad shouldered and toned.

  Alexander pulled their heads apart slightly, leaving her breathless. He had a one-sided smile that dripped with as much desire as she felt.

  “My turn.” His voice was that same deep tone that had sent her wild before.

  His hands were back on her waist. He lifted her easily from the ground and placed her on the back of the piano. She gasped as his hands moved to the bottom of her skirt and slid it up her legs.

  She made no move to stop him, nor did she object. She held his gaze with her own, panting with parted lips.

  Next, he raised her thick petticoat that had concealed her modesty, past her stocking-clad calves and knees until they rested around her thighs. She kept her legs pinned together, but his hands on her knees sent a tingling sensation through her body, suddenly making them pliable in his grasp.

  He pulled her legs apart, sending warmth up to a very secret part of her body.

  She bit her lip as he moved his face toward her again. He set a soft kiss on her lips. It was gentle, almost delicate. She groaned against him, begging him for more heat.

  His hands moved from her knees, brushing the skin of her thighs as they moved up her legs and settled under her bundled skirt. For a moment, they rested on her hips as he finished the kiss.

  With their lips so close and their eyes fixed to one another, Cleopatra was aware he was watching her. She was too focused on this thought to realize one of his hands had moved away from her hips.

  It settled on her hidden center.

  She gasped and her eyes went wide at the new sensation. His lips quirked into a pleased smile, watching her as he began to move his hand against her.

  She closed her eyes, amazed as pleasure washed over her. She felt the fire that had been blazing in her stomach had suddenly burst into a greater flame. She threw her head back, trying to soften her quiet moans as he moved.

  It was unlike anything she had imagined. It was…more intense.

  Involuntarily she rocked against him, making him work faster. He moved his head to cradle his lips in her neck and traced kisses there, mumbling something so quietly that she could not hear him.

  She tensed in his arms, feeling an end near.

  “Relax, Cleopatra. Let it happen,” he whispered against her ear as he picked up the pace. She was breathless as his other arm grasped her waist, holding her close to him. She moved both hands to the piano surface with her head tilted back in silent moans.

  That was when she felt it. Whatever had been building inside her came to a pinnacle. As though a great wave had crested, bliss surged through her body.

  She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out at the sensation.

  Alexander was muttering something again, what she could not tell. She was too consumed with her own feelings. His hand came to a stop, making her shudder beneath his touch. He brushed her gently before his hand left her.

  As his hand left, the blissful sensation also parted. He had his hands buried in her petticoats as she covered her face with her hands.

  What have I done?

  “We should not have done that,” her voice stuttered. Her body was still breathless from what it had experienced.

  “You are right. We should not have done that.” The Earl was resetting her petticoats and skirts, covering her modesty.

  She still covered her mouth with her hands as she turned her eyes to him. He was flushed, his short dark hair was ruffled as he ran a hand through it in apparent worry.

  Guilt consumed her.

  How could I give my body to my enemy? He is a murderer, isn’t he? Yet…how could a murderer touch me like that?

  She brushed away her last question. The guilt made her panic and she jumped down off the piano.

  Alexander turned away and was collecting his clothes from the floor, hurriedly resetting his cravat around his neck. She watched his figure, and her eyes drew down to his legs and the crux of his trousers. The sight there made her gulp. It was clear their touches had just as enraptured him as she had been.

  “That was a mistake.” Cleopatra held herself up against the piano, her legs were weak with what had just passed.

  “It was.”

  The thought he regretted it as well should have brought her comfort, but it did not. She closed her eyes and looked away from Alexander, hating herself for being sad that he regretted touching her in such a way.

  “You should not be such a temptation.” His voice was quiet yet seething with anger. It caused her to look back at him again. He was pulling the waistcoat back over his shoulders and hastily buttoning up the flaps, hiding his body from view once again.

  She tried to ignore the longing that built within her to tear the waistcoat from his grasp.

  “Me? You think I am the one in the wrong?”

  “You tempt me too much. No, this cannot happen again.”

  “You are the temptation, but I agree with your latter statement. We shall never speak of it.” She tried to calm the trembling of her hands. She could still hear her blood pumping in her ears after what she had just experienced. She had never known her body to lose such control, nor to be so consumed with bliss.

  “You misunderstand, Cleopatra.” Alexander turned his head to her with that one-sided smirk again as he finished the buttons.

  “No. I do not.”

  “You do.” He shook his head, pausing in his attempt to dress. “I do not regret what we did. Merely the timing of it.”

  She quirked an eyeb
row in confusion, waiting for him to say more.

  “I will not touch you again until we are married.”

  “Married?” She moved away from him around the piano, putting the instrument between them. She wished she could distance her mind as much from what they had just done, yet her memory was filled with his kisses and the touch on her hips. “I have not agreed to marry you!”

  The idea that their marriage would open the doorway for more explorations made her breath hitch.

  “You will.” He snatched the jacket from the floor, creating a whipping sound in the air with the action. “Call it a marriage of convenience, whatever you like. Yet my name must be cleared somehow from the damage you have caused it.”

  “No,” she shook her head firmly, “I cannot.” A pit opened in her stomach. It was disappointment.

  After what has just happened…he still only wants to marry me to clear his name. What we experienced is but a perk to him. He was not affected by our touches as I was.

  “You will. I will obtain a special license for us to marry. It will be quick. Sometime in the next couple of days.”

  “A special license?” she repeated in horror, rearranging her ruffled skirts in dismay. “No banns? That is unheard of!” It would mean marrying in secret. No friends, few witnesses, no traditions.

  “On the contrary, it is customary in situations such as this. No banns will mean that there is no time for any complaint. The license will allow us to marry quickly without a guardian being present for you either.”

  “This is absurd!”

  “It is necessary.” He moved toward her, making her hurry away from him around the piano. “You are running still?” He laughed, clearly amused by her behavior. “After what we have just shared, there is little point in you trying to run away from me now, Cleopatra.”

  “My name is Miss Beckett to you,” she snapped at him, trying to resume some formality, but he merely laughed in response.

  “You expect me to call you Miss Beckett after what just passed between us?” He turned back the other way around the piano, catching her easily. “As I said before, you are very much Cleopatra now to me after such intimate touches.”

  “You will not touch me like that again.” She put her hands on her hips, attempting to appear formidable and imposing, but he merely leaned down to her, with his smirk growing wider.

  “Agreed. Not until after the wedding.” His lips hovered over hers for a moment, as though he would kiss her again, but he did not. She was tempted to reach up and start the kiss herself, but she pinned her feet to the floor instead.

  He turned to walk away, but her next words made him freeze.

  “I can never marry you.”

  He looked back to her; his hard stare was suddenly firm.

  “Do not pretend you did not like what we just shared.” He held her gaze, refusing to release it.

  “What if I did not?”

  “Then it is a shockingly poor lie.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I had you in my arms but a few moments ago. I felt you return my kiss. I felt the way you welcomed my touch.”

  “It was…” she could not think of the words to describe it.

  “Perhaps you will soon see, as I told you once before, an appetite for the bedroom is no bad thing.”

  His words made her snap her body away. She covered her face and eyes with her hands, wishing she could tear the memory from her body, but she could not. She liked it too much.

  The sound of his footsteps approached, making her tremble. It was hope, hope he would touch her again.

  “We will be married in a couple of days’ time,” he whispered in her ear. “I suggest you make peace with the idea. After the wedding, we will revisit this topic again if you want.” He walked away, his footsteps leaving her quickly. “Wait here, I will ask Pip to escort you back to your room.”

  The door clanged closed behind him, urging her first tear to fall down her cheek. She moved her hand to the spot on her collar bone where he had spent many minutes kissing and nipping her. It was both sore and tingly, a physical reminder of what had passed between them.

  Beneath her skirts, her legs were weak, and her center was wet. She shook her head, confused by what had happened.

  How can I both want him and loathe him?

  Chapter Twelve

  Cleopatra could hear the argument long before she found it the next morning. John’s shrill voice was echoing through the walls as she hurried through the corridors of the gaming hall to find the source of the commotion.

  Alexander’s voice came next. She could not discern the words at this distance, but they brooked no conflict, clearly ordering John to be quiet.

  As Cleopatra found the room they were in, rushing through the hallway toward the fracas, she found Alexander was leaving the room, shaking his head with his hands in his pockets.

  She tried to ignore the shiver of excitement that ran down her spine at the sight of him. Her night had been filled with dreams of Alexander; she had imagined what it would have been like to have continued their explorations on the piano. Her dreams had ended each time before she fully got to consider what being with him completely would be like.

  She shook her head of those thoughts again as he noticed her rushing down the corridor.

  “What has happened?”

  “Your little brother has threatened to break everything in this place.”

  “Why?”

  “It seems he has overheard somewhere of our impending nuptials,” the smile he gave her was mischievous, delighting in the sudden jerk of her head.

  “Did you tell him?” She stepped toward Alexander with her hands on her hips, feeling the heat of anger seep up her neck and into her cheeks. “It was my right to tell him. He is my brother.”

  “Have no fear, I did not tell him. I agree with you that it is only proper his sister should be the one to inform him of our betrothal. However, it would appear he has overheard it from somewhere.” Alexander was smirking, betraying he felt no guilt, fueling Cleopatra’s anger even more. “Something tells me he is not particularly fond of me.”

  At his words, there was a banging of feet behind them in the room where John was having his outburst. It drew his gaze and the smirk vanished, only to be replaced by frustration.

  “It’s a feeling that runs in the family.” Cleopatra was about to walk past him, with the aim of reaching John’s side when Alexander stepped closer to her. She knew she should move away from him, yet her feet fell still, refusing to do as her mind instructed.

  “We both know that is not true, Cleopatra.” The words were whispered, gently like a caress. He leaned down toward her as though he would kiss her again.

  She closed her eyes, waiting for the kiss, needing the kiss, when the sounds of John’s tantrum interrupted her. Her eyes shot open again to see Alexander wincing at the sound.

  “I will talk to him,” she nodded, walking away from him and toward the room where John was.

  “John? John, Dearest?” Her eyes found him standing in the middle of the space. His shoes were at either end of the room, as though he had thrown them in his rage, baring his stocking-clad feet beneath his knee-length breeches. His little suit was unkempt, the cravat was pulled at the collar and messy. “What is wrong?”

  He turned his small dark eyes up to her, breathing heavily.

  “I heard them say you are to marry that man. Tell me it is not true, Sister. You cannot marry him. I do not like him. You do not like him either.” He stamped his foot on the floor to emphasize his words, but the sound was quite soft without his shoe.

  His actions reminded Cleopatra of just how much of a child John still was. With the loss of so many family members in recent years, he had not always had the chance to embrace his childhood.

  “Come here, Dearest.” Cleopatra knelt in front of him, beckoning him closer. Her heart ached for the obvious pain he was in. His life had been in such turmoil recently, his face was creased with worry and his nose was bright red from the exertio
n of his wild outburst. “Now, listen to me.” She held out her hands to the boy and he placed his small fingers within her grasp, they were warm to the touch. “It is true, I am to marry the Earl–”

  “But you do not like him!” he snapped, almost spitting in her face.

  “That is no reason to lose our heads.” Her voice was stern, making the boy drop his head in shame. “And you are quite wrong, John. He is a very respectable gentleman. His full name is Alexander Trevor, the Earl of Larson. He knew our brother, when he was alive. He runs a business and his Earldom. Yes, it is true that I may not have liked him at first, but–”