He eyed the four nude male statues and paused before them, noticing that the poor chaps had been stripped of their scant belongings. He smoothed his cravat. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up just like them.
Except for the clattering of carriages and the bustle of the street outside, silence continued to hum all around him. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit. For it meant he had to stand here like an idiot and listen to his own thoughts. Thoughts that included him stripping Charlotte down to only her stockings and making her kneel atop that lone chair behind him so that he could—
No. No. Absolutely none of that.
Placing his hands behind his back, Alexander started trooping back and forth, his boots echoing in the empty parlor. He had planned it all out, after all. Knew exactly what he would say and how he would say it. With reserve. With respect. And with every ounce of strength within him.
“Lady Chartwell asks that you join her upstairs,” Mr. Hudson announced from the doorway.
Alexander jerked toward the pudgy butler. “What?”
“Shall I write it down for you?” Mr. Hudson said, spreading out his words.
Alexander glared at the man. The dolt was looking for a good knock. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. Inform Lady Chartwell that I shall remain here. In the parlor.” That way, nothing indecent would ever be permitted to occur and he could keep his visit to about ten minutes. As opposed to the rest of the day and the entire night.
Mr. Hudson bowed and exited.
Now that that was over and done with, on to the next. Which was, the moment Lady Charlotte entered the room, he would announce that he had absolutely no intention of enrolling in the school. And that pleasuring her was simply out of the question despite the fact that he had begged, cajoled, and manipulated her into accepting him.
After all, he had to keep his sisters in mind. Without a good, solid plan, their lives could very well be ruined. And he was not about to let that happen. Not for anyone, and certainly not for baseless pleasure.
“Need I remind you, My Lord, that I shall be the one choosing the pleasures?” Charlotte teased from the doorway.
Those words rolled off her tongue like warm honey, and, God help him, all he wanted to do was lap every last bit of it up. Alexander turned toward the doorway, trying to remain determined and strong.
He blinked at what she was wearing.
“Do you like it?” She entered the parlor dressed in nothing more than a long, virginal white silk robe. A velvet red sash held the flimsy thing in place around her small, corseted waist.
It was the first time he’d ever seen her in anything but black. And she was truly a vision to behold. Like a bride on her wedding night.
“I usually don’t wear anything but my mourning gowns,” she went on, “but when I received word that you’d be calling on me this afternoon, I decided to wear it. Just for you.”
God help him. Why was she choosing to cooperate now? Whatever happened to the I-am-quite-done-with-seeing-to-the-needs-of-a-man bit?
She closed the double doors behind her and slowly turned back toward him. Her dark eyes sparkled with an unusual amount of playfulness as she strode closer to him. As if she knew he couldn’t resist.
Her adorable bare feet peered out from beneath the hem of her long robe as she continued to seductively move toward him. His gaze swept along the lengthy portion of her porcelain neck that was purposefully exposed, down to the rounds of her breasts which were fitted into a corset and outlined by the smoothness of the flowing silk. Unlike the last time, her black hair had been gathered up and pinned, bringing even more attention to everything else beneath it.
To his further astonishment, she went over to the parlor windows and proceeded to pull the curtains shut, encasing them in a gray room where only slashes of light came through.
Alexander hissed out a breath and proceeded to move backward toward the double doors. Though his feet were much too heavy to cooperate.
Charlotte turned and sashayed her way back nearer to him, pausing a mere arm’s length before him. The alluring soft scent of lavender now invaded his space. He tried not to breathe.
She tilted her chin up just enough for her dark eyes to meet his and smiled rather saucily. It was a smile that could easily melt the heart of a butcher into complacency. Other than that smile, however, she offered no other form of words or action. She merely stood there, her hands on her hips. As if waiting for him to do something.
Alexander cleared his throat and did his best to appear uninterested in what she had to offer. “LLady Charlotte,” he grimly began.
He willed himself to focus on the middle of her forehead, lest his resolve fail him. “I am here to apologize for my earlier crude behavior. I did not treat you with the respect you deserve and am here to withdraw from the agreement we had originally made.”
Her dark brows slowly rose, crinkling the smooth forehead he was focusing on. “Oh? Is that so?”
He gave a curt nod, then met her gaze, hoping that nothing but his sense of earnestness showed. “That is exactly so.”
Searching his face, she reached out a hand and slid it from his stomach, up across the expanse of his chest, toward his shoulder. His pulse leapt. And fight it as he may, his cock thickened in his trousers at the blink of an eye and demanded satisfaction.
She leaned in close. So close that the side of her robe grazed his gloved hand, which was stoically set at his side. She pressed her curvy softness against the length of his front side, promising him endless bliss.
Though he fought to maintain and steady his breathing, it was pointless. He was no longer in control of the situation. His cock throbbed to be taken into her mouth, into her.
“And what if I refuse to accept your withdrawal?” she whispered up at him, no doubt feeling his hard length against her own body. “What if I refuse to relinquish my pleasure?”
Alexander closed his eyes, let out a low groan, and tried to desperately keep his mind and body from swaying toward a mistake. “Charlotte, please. You must allow me to withdraw.”
“Must?” she playfully went on. “Like you, Lord Hawksford, I am not overly fond of musts.”
Touché. Touché. “Nevertheless,” he breathed out, still keeping his eyes closed, trying desperately to remain focused. “We must end this. Now. There is no other way.”
She paused, then slowly pulled her hand away and stepped back. “I see.” Her voice grew notably distant. “You’ve already moved on.”
The disappointment in her tone made him reopen his eyes. Her charming smile had faded. She inched back and away as if his very presence not only bewildered but disgusted her.
What truly stabbed at him in that moment, however, was the way her dark eyes accused him of being nothing more than a fancier version of Chartwell.
He stepped toward her, trying to remain calm. “Do not look at me like that and, in turn, insult me.”
“There is no need to explain, Lord Hawksford.” She stepped farther back. “After all, there is absolutely nothing between us. Nothing at all.”
Absolutely nothing between them? At all?
Alexander didn’t know why, but her words sounded downright harsh, even to his own ears. Though he knew full well they hadn’t known each other very long, to outright say that they were nothing to each other, especially after that erotic kiss, felt wrong. Mind you, he didn’t know what the bloody hell they were to each other, but he did know it was far more than nothing.
Alexander closed the space between them, then grabbed her arm and dragged her almost violently nearer him. “We may not be involved in the traditional sense, but to say that there is absolutely nothing between us is a bloody lie. You know it and I know it. We can’t even keep our hands off each other.”
Her dark gaze snapped back up to his face. She momentarily wiggled the arm he held on to. “It appears you are the one that cannot keep your hands to yourself.”
She leaned farther in toward him and glared up at him as if not aware that their
lips were now close enough for them to entirely end their conversation. “So do tell, Lord Hawksford. Since we are on the subject. What exactly are we to each other?”
Alexander’s jaw tensed. Holding her this close and having her ask him that question made him realize that this was all getting much too personal for his liking. And if he wasn’t careful, he knew exactly where this could lead.
“I am not about to damn well prance into specifics.” He tightened his hold on her shoulders, trying to prove to her that he was still unwilling to relinquish their closeness. “The fact of the matter is my withdrawal has nothing to do with another woman. Hell, the only woman I want to bed right now is you. But lust isn’t something I ought to sacrifice my entire family for, is it?”
She searched his face, clearly astonished. “This is about your family?”
He released her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus otherwise, and heaved out a sigh. “My sisters, to be exact. You see, Caroline is nineteen. The eldest. She’s also the first out of all five girls to celebrate her coming-out. She would have done so last year, but we were all in mourning for my father. With him gone, all of those responsibilities have been transferred to me.”
He paused. “Charlotte, my family isn’t like other families of the aristocracy. We’ve always led a double life. One for the ton and one for ourselves. The ton has always known the Hawksfords to be a bunch of misfits, but we’ve never provided them with anything that would allow them to rise against us, seeing we do everything behind closed doors. Despite the many strictures of society, my mother was never one to lead the life of a traditional elite woman, and my father was a devious entity all his own. As a result of their unruly lifestyle, my sisters and I grew up a bit…wild. It wasn’t until my father passed and Caroline came of age that I suddenly realized that the man she married would ultimately define her for the rest of her life. As her brother, I want to offer her the sort of stability that we never had growing up. Which means finding her a respectable match. And you…you’d only complicate everything I have planned. Does any of this make sense? At all?”
She nodded, then eventually whispered up at him, “Yes. It does.” She searched his face again, sadness tingeing her features, her eyes. “I know that if I had a family, I would do the same. Exactly the same.”
Why the devil did she have to be so sweet? Alexander reached out and took hold of her corseted waist, savoring not only the feel of her silk robe but the fact that she actually understood. Someone in his life actually understood him. He slowly pulled her closer. “You aren’t angry with me, then?”
She shook her head, her dark, pinned hair bobbing. “No. Of course not. Family should always come first. Always. And I very much admire you for it. More than you need know.”
She nodded again, and to his surprise, tears glistened against those dark eyes. She pinched her lips together and hurriedly looked away. She swiped at the corner of her eyes and let out a small laugh. “I apologize. I grow emotional at the thought of family.”
That was when Alexander realized something. Something that punched him in the gut so hard, he almost couldn’t find the strength to breathe. For this beautiful and seemingly strong and independent woman was in fact all alone in the world. Completely and utterly alone with no family. Something he, with five sisters and a mother, took sorely for granted.
Releasing her waist, he reached up and dug his fingers into the softness and thickness of her gathered hair. “Charlotte,” he whispered, leaning down closer to her face. “What happened to your family? Tell me. I want to know.”
She shook her head and refused to meet his gaze. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Please. It is best you leave. It is best for everyone.”
He nodded, knowing she was right, even though for some reason he still could not entirely bring himself to let her go. To let this go. “Charlotte,” he whispered again, “I don’t regret meeting you. And I hope to God you don’t regret meeting me. The only thing I do regret is that we hadn’t met earlier. When I didn’t have so many responsibilities toward others. Perhaps my approach toward this—toward us—would have been different.”
Her teary gaze met his again. “Do not talk to me about what could have been. It changes nothing.”
She pulled out of his grasp, placing a more notable distance between them, and stuck out a small, pale hand. She smiled up at him in an unsuccessful effort to be cheerful. “I do wish you well. Though I may not want to admit it, you’ve been charming and kind since first we met. Thank you. For everything.”
Alexander blinked at the hand and words she offered and met her gaze. He would never come across another woman like her, would he? A woman capable of wishing him well despite the fact that he was abandoning her.
God. In that moment, he wanted her to know that despite the fact that they were going their separate ways, she had magically brought back a spark of passion and excitement into his life. A passion and excitement he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
One he wanted to experience one last time before she entirely slipped from his grasp and he regretted not acting upon how he felt in that moment. “I was hoping for a different sort of good-bye,” he quietly admitted.
She lowered her hand and boldly continued to hold his gaze. “What sort of good-bye?”
“The sort of good-bye we both deserve.” With that, he stepped toward her and pulled her soft body close.
Lesson Eleven
If at any point and time you were deprived of knowing true passion, do give thyself permission to overindulge in any given fashion.
—The School of Gallantry
Everything around Alexander disappeared as he gave in to the unfolding sensation of kissing Charlotte one last time. Closing his eyes, he forced her lips apart and pushed his tongue deep into her soft, wet mouth. A mouth that tasted of warm tea and tantalizing sugar.
She briefly stiffened against him then pressed herself into him. Her tongue thrust against his as she grabbed for his waist and tugged him even more against the warmth of her body.
His gloved hands left her hair and mindlessly skimmed the contours of her body, savoring the softness even his gloves could not hide from him. His fingers curved toward her backside and cupped her ass tightly, forcing her up against him.
He released her lips and dragged his mouth alongside the length of her smooth, bare neck, tasting and licking the heat of her skin. His hands moved from her backside to the front of her robe. There, he tugged the silk folds aside from her breasts and yanked the top portion of the garment from her shoulders, exposing the sheer chemise and tightly laced rose corset hidden beneath. The same one he’d given her. Damn, but she knew how to drive him mad with need.
She gasped and drew her head farther back as she clung to him.
He tightened his jaw, knowing that there was no way he could ever stop, and ripped the red sash from around her waist, tossing it aside. Her robe slid effortlessly from the rest of her body and cascaded down to the floor at their feet.
She stood before him, eyes closed, parts of her pinned hair escaping from their gathered hold as the rest of her hair seductively swayed against her throat and back. Her smooth cheeks were flushed, her full lips parted, and her chest rose and fell. It appeared she was just as affected by him as he was by her.
And he damn well loved knowing that.
He kneeled before her, trailing his hands down the length of her slim body. Stripping his gloves from his hands, he tossed them aside and began pushing up her sheer chemise slowly, admiring her shapely legs. Though he tried to dictate his breathing, every breath escaped more rapidly and with less reserve and control.
“Alexander,” Charlotte half whispered down at him, her hands digging into his hair. She leaned almost drunkenly toward him, her grasp tightening as her fingers wove into his hair. “We…shouldn’t.”
“I know we shouldn’t,” he rasped, his mind focused on nothing but her. Nothing but the pleasure they both deserved. “But you need this. An
d I need this. Just this once. Once.” He knotted the length of her chemise around his fist and yanked it straight upward, exposing the soft dark curls that hid the folds of her sex.
His cock was uncomfortably hard now, but he was determined to stay focused on her needs and her needs only. “Can you feel my desire for you?” He kissed her upper thighs, then dragged the tip of his tongue from one side of her thigh to the other.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good. Remember it. Always.” He leaned closer to her center and dipped his tongue into her folds. Dipped it right where it needed to be.
She moaned.
He licked her again then sucked at her nub, consuming the very taste of her wetness and wanting more. He opened his eyes and glanced up, wanting to see the pleasure in her face.
Her head was tilted down toward him, her long black hair encasing them like a curtain. She watched him through half-closed eyes, her kiss-reddened lips parting with each moan as she swayed against him. She widened the separation of her legs, rocking herself against him, urging him to give her more.
It was maddening to behold her need for passion. Her need to receive it. He grabbed hold of her hips to steady her and removed his lips from her folds. It was time to move her into a better position. He released her, allowing her chemise to slip back down around her legs, and leaned back.
She slowly opened her eyes.
He leaned farther back until his hands hit the soft woven rug. Laying on his back completely, he whispered, “Straddle me.”
She hesitated, then stepped around him, her eyes never leaving his and extended a bare leg on each side of him. She lowered herself onto him, pushing her chemise up to her corseted waist to allow her knees to bend. She then sat on his erection and, without being told what to do, slowly rubbed against him, resting her hands on his chest.
Alexander let out a strained groan as mounting sensations from the tip of his cock ripped through the rest of his tense body. And that was just his body responding to her through all his clothing. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to thrust himself into her. “As amazing as this is, I want you to straddle me higher. Much higher.”
Lord of Pleasure Page 12
