The Bachelor Earl

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The Bachelor Earl Page 6

by Burke, Darcy

“Yes. I didn’t expect to be attracted to anyone.” She looked toward the fire. “I loved my husband deeply. I miss him terribly, and I expect I always will.”

  There was silence for a long moment before he asked, “Do you question whether there is a place for anyone else in your future?”

  She returned her gaze to his. “Yes. Precisely. I don’t expect to find another love.”

  His smile was sad. “Well, that is rather discouraging—for you and for me.”

  Oh dear. He’d hoped for…something, apparently. She reached over and put her hand on his.

  “Why did you come here tonight?” he asked.

  A tremor ran through her. She straightened, pushing her uncertainty aside. If she was honest with herself, she knew what she wanted. “Because since we kissed yesterday, I’ve thought of little else.” She shook her head. “No, it was before that. Watching you perform Shakespeare, I was moved by the depth of your emotion. There is something about you I find compelling. All this morning as I walked to the river with Sterling, I observed you with Mrs. Makepeace and then Lady Bradford. I contemplated how I might push them aside and take their place. Tonight at dinner, I was frustrated that we still weren’t seated beside each other. Then in the dancing competition, I was even more annoyed that we weren’t ever paired together. So here I am.”

  His eyes sparked with heat and mirth. “Duchess, I am astonished. And flattered. Most of all, I am encouraged. Here we are, two people who are attracted to—and compelled by, for I feel the same about you—one another. Alone. In a bedchamber. What shall we do about it?” He looked at her in such a provoking fashion—his gaze devouring her as it moved from her face down over her body.

  Emboldened, she took his glass and stood, putting it and hers on the mantel. Then she turned to face him and unbuttoned her dressing gown. Surprisingly, her fingers didn’t so much as quiver.

  Genie removed the garment and draped it over the back of the settee. Then she put her knee on the settee and leaned over him. “Shall I stay?”

  His eyes darkened to near pitch. “Yes, please.” The words were thick and heavy, resonating in the pit of Genie’s belly.

  Bracing her hand on the back of the settee, she lowered her head and kissed him, her mouth brushing gently over his. They played a moment, their lips and tongues seeking and teasing, touching and withdrawing.

  He brought his hand up and cupped her nape. Pulling her head to his, he brought their lips together and sank his tongue into her mouth, devouring her as he had with his gaze. Sensation pulsed through her. It had been so long since she’d felt this.

  His fingers dug into her hair, the bulk of which hung in a braid down her back. She pressed down against him, her breasts crushing against his chest. He dragged his thumb along the edge of her ear as he kissed her, long, deep strokes of his tongue against hers. She put her other hand on his shoulder, clutching him as waves of want crested within her.

  The heat of his body seeped through the lawn of his shirt. She moved her hand up and slid it beneath the fabric. The feel of his flesh against hers was beyond enticing. She wanted more, needed more.

  He clasped her waist and pushed her back against the other end of the settee, somewhat reversing their positions. Rising over her, he stared down at her with naked lust.

  “Genie, I have never wanted another woman as much as I want you. Does that frighten you? It frightens me.”

  She wasn’t scared. Not of him. Not of this. She shook her head and lifted her hand. “Come to me, Edmund.”

  He reached for the hem of her night rail and pulled it up to her waist. She lifted her hips, and together they rid her of the garment. When she lay before him nude, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was enough. She was no longer young.

  He let out a sharp hiss. “You are so beautiful. Perfect, in fact.”

  She let out a shaky laugh. “That can hardly be true.”

  Riveted on her, he cupped her breast. “It is true. You are perfect to me in every way.” He ran his thumb over her nipple, sending a burst of sensation to her sex.

  She cast her head back and closed her eyes, giving herself over to his touch. “Yes.” She’d never shied from asking for what she wanted or instigating what she desired.

  He repeated the action with her other breast—cupping, then tweaking her nipple softly.

  She moaned softly. “More.”

  He pinched her then. She jerked, her body lifting from the settee, and she cried out. His mouth closed around her, and he teased her with lips and tongue before sucking hard. Genie put her hands on his head and held him to her. He cupped her other breast, driving her to a fit of need that pooled between her legs. Her hips moved, of their own volition really, eager for his touch.

  He seemed to understand what she wanted for his hand moved down her rib cage and abdomen, his fingers stroking her flesh as he descended to the apex of her thighs. He touched her sex, his hand pressing gently against her mound before his finger glided along her folds. He drew hard on her nipple as he slipped his finger into her. Genie rose up, meeting his thrust and gasping. He lifted his head and kissed her again, taking her whimpers into his mouth as he pumped his finger into her.

  She moved, her hips rising with each stroke. Then his mouth was gone from hers. He kissed along her jaw and throat, licking and nipping his way down to her breasts once more, then lower still.

  No, he couldn’t mean to… Yes, he meant to. He licked her clitoris, then sucked, sending a sharp spear of pleasure straight through her core. She held his head and tried to keep herself from completely falling apart. Not yet.

  But he was relentless in his efforts. His mouth and fingers worked in and out of her, rousing her to heights of desire she wasn’t sure she recalled. She cried out as sensation overwhelmed her. He licked into her, thrust his tongue deep into her sex, and she tumbled into the dark intensity of her orgasm. Her body shuddered as her muscles clenched. She cried out again and again, unable to find herself as she fell through time and space.

  He didn’t stop until she emerged from the darkness. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She managed to recover enough to scramble to her knees on the bed. She reached for him, pulling his shirt from his breeches. He lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head.

  Now he was exposed to her, she could see he was every bit as muscular as others had said during the party. Dark hair covered the center of his chest and around his nipples. He was the most masculine thing she’d ever seen—or felt. She ran her hands over him, reveling in his hardness and heat. Skimming her palms up his chest, she cupped his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him.

  She tasted herself on his tongue, which only fueled her desire. How long was this night? Not long enough, she reckoned. Not for all the ways she wanted to explore him and have him study her.

  He began to unbutton his fall, but she lowered her hands to finish the task, pushing his aside. When the breeches were loose, she pushed them down his hips. He assisted then—and she allowed it—which meant she could touch him. She wrapped her hand around his shaft. Velvety soft and rock hard, she stroked him from balls to tip. The urge to put her mouth around him was strong, but she was too eager to feel him inside her.

  She whispered next to his ear, “Shall I lie back? Or shall you? Or shall I get on my knees?”

  He groaned in response. “You are beyond imagination. Yes, yes, and yes. I want to sink myself inside you until I don’t know where I end and you begin. By morning, I won’t remember what it feels like to be without you, nor do I want to.”

  His words enflamed her. She worked her hand around him, pulling another groan from his throat.

  “Genie, look at me.” He cupped the back of her head. “What do you want?”

  “You inside me. Now. I don’t care how.” She straightened her legs out and sat down on the coverlet, scooting to the edge of the bed so she could put the tip of his cock against her sex.

  “Then now you shall have me.” He narrowed hi
s eyes and pushed her back onto the bed so she lay flat. Then he moved her farther onto the mattress so that he climbed over her. She closed her eyes as his fingers stroked her folds and clitoris, stoking her desire.

  His cock pressed against her. “Look at me, Genie.” She opened her eyes. “Look at me as we come together. Tell me this is what you want.”

  “It is. I want this. I want you.”

  Chapter 7

  Edmund never wanted this moment to end. Since the start of the party, he’d allowed himself to hope that a long-dead dream might actually come to fruition. Now that it was here, he was humbled and overwhelmed. That she, his goddess, was finally here nearly undid him.

  He cupped the side of her head as he guided himself into her, sliding deep inside. A deep, sultry sound burst from his throat as he felt her clench around him, welcoming him. If he lived to be a hundred, there would never be another moment like this. Nor did he want there to be. This was everything he’d ever craved and more.

  The moment froze in his mind—her dark lashes brushing her cheeks as her eyes closed in ecstasy. Her pink lips parted as a soft moan escaped her mouth. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And she was his.

  Edmund moved within her, withdrawing and thrusting, slowly and methodically at first, his body learning hers and hers learning his. They fit together perfectly—at least in his mind. She rose to meet him, their bodies meeting in a divine rhythm.

  Her legs wrapped right around him, her hands clasping his lower back. “Yes, yes,” she murmured over and over. “Faster, please.”

  He complied, driving into her with greater speed. He wanted this to last forever, but knew that wasn’t possible. “Genie,” he murmured, overcome with desire and emotion. He kissed her, their tongues and moans mingling as their bodies moved together.

  Suddenly, her muscles clenched, and she cried out. Her feet dug into his backside as her sex squeezed him. His balls tightened, and he barely held back his orgasm.

  “Do I need to remove myself?” he managed to ask. He’d meant to settle that question beforehand, but he’d been quite carried away.

  “No,” she rasped. “Come, Edmund. Come with me.”

  It was all the urging he needed. He drove into her several more times as his orgasm built. Then he rushed over the edge, shouting her name as he spent himself inside her.

  He’d no notion of how much time passed before he moved again. She held him tenderly, her lips brushing against his cheek and lips. He kissed her softly before he withdrew from her body and rolled to his side. When he recaptured his breath, he pulled the coverlet down and tucked her beneath it before joining her.

  He gathered her in his arms and kissed her temple. “That was magnificent.”

  “Yes, it was rather…lovely.” She kissed his throat and snuggled into him. “I never expected to have that. Not again.”

  He knew she’d loved Kendal, even before she’d told him. He also imagined it must be difficult to move on without him. He tried to think of what he might do if he lost her. No, that wasn’t the same. They were not wed. They were not in love.

  As far as he knew.

  He, of course, had nurtured feelings for her long ago. He’d never imagined he might have the opportunity to explore them or that she might love him in return. And he still couldn’t quite conceive of it. “I am humbled that you would share this with me.”

  She pulled back so they faced each other. “How are you not married? You are kind and charming. Intelligent, handsome, extremely accomplished in the physical arts—”

  “Physical arts?” He laughed, then kissed her. “That is wonderful.”

  “What else should I say? You’ve a talent with your mouth? And other things?” She blushed, then laughed. “I swear, I’m not a prude. It’s just been some time, and as I said, I never dreamed I’d be doing this again. Let alone enjoying it so much.” She blanched. “Is that bad?”

  He kissed her soundly. “No. Surely your husband would have wanted you to continue to live, to find happiness again. I would want that for my wife.”

  “Jerome did want that. He made me promise, in fact.” She looked at him intently. “You didn’t answer my question. Why aren’t you wed?”

  Edmund couldn’t quite bring himself to tell her the truth. Because it was a truth he’d never acknowledged, and still hadn’t—not entirely. “I’ve never been moved to. You fell in love with Kendal, did you not?” At her nod, he said, “I haven’t been fortunate enough to fall in love with someone and have them do the same.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her forehead creased, and she looked at him with genuine sympathy, but not pity. There was a difference. “You came to the party hoping that might change?”

  “I did. As much as my mother nags me about marrying and producing an heir—she’s right. I have a duty. Perhaps it’s time I look past my romantic necessities and trust that love will come.”

  “It doesn’t always. My eldest sister loathes her husband. They haven’t shared a bed in twenty years. He has a long-term mistress, and my sister has recently—finally—embarked on an affair of her own. I’m glad for her, but overall, it’s a sad state.”

  “I suppose that’s what I’ve wanted to avoid. I fear a loveless marriage would be intolerable, duty or no.”

  She gazed at him with such warmth that his heart swelled. “You do have romantic necessities, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “My mother calls me hopelessly romantic and sees it as a detriment.”

  “I disagree. Any woman fortunate enough to fall in love with you will be lucky beyond measure.”

  Edmund couldn’t help but note that she didn’t speak like a woman who might be in love. But it was surely too soon for that—at least for her. “That’s kind of you to say.”

  She grimaced. “I’m not helping you find a wife. I’m distracting you. I should not have come tonight.”

  He cupped her face. “No. You are the only woman at this party I am interested in.”

  Something—understanding, maybe—flickered in her eyes. “You want an heir?”

  “It is my duty,” he said simply. He supposed he wanted children—he enjoyed his nieces and nephews. “Perhaps we just made one.” He winked at her.

  Her eyes widened, and her brows pitched low on her forehead as she pulled back. She sat up abruptly, holding the coverlet to her chest. “That isn’t possible. I can’t have any more children.”

  Edmund sat up with her. Any more? She’d had children? He didn’t recall, perhaps because he’d purposely not paid attention to her marriage despite being friendly with her husband. “Do you have children? I wasn’t aware.”

  “I had a daughter,” she said softly, her gaze focused on the fireplace. “Eliza. She died when she was three.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Genie’s eyes lit. “She was bright and funny, so quick to laugh. She loved to follow her older half brother around. Titus was so good with her. He would read her stories, especially after she got sick.” Her expression dimmed, and Edmund gently stroked his fingers along her spine. “I lost three more after her—well before their term—and wasn’t able to conceive at all the last five years of my marriage. The physician said I was past my childbearing years.”

  He frowned. “Physicians can be wrong.”

  She snapped her gaze to his. “I have long given up hope for any more children and would ask that you don’t speak of such things. It’s not kind.”

  Anguished by her obvious heartache, he took her hand. “I didn’t mean to be unkind.”

  “I’m forty-two, Edmund,” she said quietly. “I cannot give you an heir.”

  He wished he could say he didn’t want one, that he didn’t need one. But the fact was that he did have a duty. Troubled, he stroked his thumb over her hand.

  She took a deep breath and looked at him. “You should know that losing my daughter was even more painful than losing Jerome. I miss him terribly, but you’ve shown me there is life after him. My stepson, Titus, showed me
that I could be a mother, even if the child wasn’t of my blood. If I marry again, I would hope to have the chance to mother my husband’s children.”

  Her words cut into him. She wasn’t interested in marriage, at least not to him. To realize his dream and have it dashed all in the same night was a blow he couldn’t have foreseen.

  Edmund rolled over and got up from the bed. He padded to the armoire and fetched his banyan. Wrapping it around his now-cold body, he tied the sash and turned. She’d also left the bed and had gone to the settee where she drew the night rail over her exquisite form.

  She put her feet into the slippers that she’d kicked off at some point, then donned her dressing gown. He wanted to stop her, to ask her to stay. He’d envisioned a night full of learning each other’s bodies, giving pleasure, and blissful surrender.

  But that was not to be. Not after the revelations of their stark truths.

  Still, they had shared a wonderful experience. He went to stand before her as she finished buttoning her dressing gown. Several strands of hair had come free of her plait and curled gently against her cheeks and temples.

  He fingered one of those curls and gave her a half smile. “Tonight was remarkable. There are two more nights left. I would count myself lucky if you wanted to share them with me.”

  She stared at him, her lips parted. “I don’t know. This was…exceptional. I will treasure the memory always.” She put her palm against his cheek and stood on her toes to kiss him.

  Edmund wrapped his arms around her and gathered her close. He claimed her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers, hopefully reminding her of how well they fit together, of how good they were.

  When he released her, she gasped for air. Her gaze settled intently on his for a long moment. “Good night, Edmund.”

  “Good night, Genie.”

  She turned and he followed her, opening the door, then closing it after watching her walk away. He nearly went after her and begged her to come back. No, he wanted to beg her to reconsider what she wanted. Was there any way she might want him? Not just for now, but forever?

 

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