Waiting for an Earl Like You

by Alexandra Hawkins

  Olivia glowered at him. “You already know the answer.”

  She was being evasive. While she might not have initiated the kiss, the man she thought was Gideon had. “Not always. Gideon likes to keep secrets. I will wager, he has told you things that he hasn’t shared with me.”

  Her chin came up and her mouth trembled. “Leave Gideon out of this.”

  “I agree. Let’s keep this just between us,” he said before crushing his mouth to hers.

  The abrupt movement expelled her warm breath against his lips. He breathed in her scent, drawing it deep into his nose. His mouth had sipped the sweet nectar from her lips, now he wanted to glut himself on the taste of her.

  Olivia’s hands glided up the front of his evening coat. He grabbed one of her hands and directed it to his waistcoat. A more experienced lady would recognize it as an invitation—for her to unfasten the buttons, and breach another layer. To work her way under his linen shirt and touch his bare chest.

  She tentatively stroked the front of his waistcoat as he made a growling sound of approval in his throat. “Thorn,” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder and wariness. “None of this makes sense. You and I—”

  Their attraction defied all reasoning.

  The rational side of him agreed. Olivia had every right to question his motives. Thorn was uncertain how far he was willing to take this. His head and the demands of his body for a physical release battled for control, and the lady he had pinned against the leather-cushioned interior of the coach was to blame for his whetted appetite.

  “Are you not curious?” he asked, lightly kissing her lips.

  Her cornflower eyes were large, dark and luminous in the shadowed interior of the coach. “I have wondered—” She wetted her lower lip with a swift flick of her tongue. “There was—”

  Thorn silenced the rest of her admission by coaxing her parted lips to widen with his tongue. He stroked and circled, deepening their kisses. His hand cupped one of her breasts and he kneaded the soft globe, offended by the layers of barriers from his gloved hand to her layers of dress, stays, and chemise. She had tensed at his initial touch, her hand covering his as if to stop him.

  “Do not deny me,” he murmured against her mouth, as he persisted in his bold caresses until she relaxed against him.

  Olivia tipped her head back and exposed her bare neck. Another area to explore with his tongue and lips. She shivered in his arms as he nibbled on her shoulder.

  Immense pleasure was coupled with acute discomfort. He was wholly aroused. His cock was full and his testicles drawn tight and aching for release. It was exquisite torture to brush his virility against her hips and belly even though she was oblivious to the growing demands of his body. He had always loved to delay his pleasures. While his head was filled with fevered visions of him unfastening his breeches and filling the lady with his eager cock, there were other ways to seduce an innocent miss.

  Thorn drank from her lips as if she were his favorite wine. He breached and penetrated with his tongue. She gasped and shuddered in his arms as if he had filled her with his hot seed.

  “No more,” she panted. “It is too much!”

  Olivia moved restlessly against him. Her questing hands had found his back, and she dug her fingers into his flesh to hold him close.

  “This is the prelude to passion,” he murmured against the heated flesh just above her breast. “There are so many ways a man can give his lover pleasure. Your scarlet blush would cover you from head to toe if I whispered the wicked details in your ear.”

  Thorn had ripped the bodice of one of her dresses. Would she scold him if he tore this one so he could suckle her nipples and bury his face into the fragrant soft swells?

  “The town house,” she said, groaning as he licked a sensitive spot with his tongue. “You need to stop kissing me. I cannot collect my thoughts.”

  He preferred keeping her off-balance as he seduced her.

  He gently cupped her breast and nipped the flesh spilling out of her bodice. “Has anyone ever given you a love bite?”

  “Oh, my goodness gracious!”

  He smiled as he kissed the tiny mark he had left behind with his teeth. When she dressed in the morning, she would see it and remember the pleasure she had discovered in his arms. “You liked it, did you not? Can you fathom all of the intimate places on your body you could feel that mild sting?”

  Olivia expelled a nervous giggle. “Don’t you dare—”

  “How can I resist when you are so generous with your responses,” he teased.

  His cock throbbed, almost too sensitive to be touched. He had never been so aroused as to spill his seed in his breeches like an untried lad, but if any lady was capable of shattering his control it was Olivia.

  Without conscious thought, he brought his gloved hand to his mouth. He used his teeth to tug on each leather tip. The sheath of fingers gave way and he peeled off the glove with his other hand.

  Olivia met his impatient gaze. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to touch you,” he said, his bare hand moving to her skirt. “Nothing too brazen. A light caress so you will think fondly of me when you dream.”

  Her cornflower blue eyes widened and her knees locked when he slipped his hand under her skirt and petticoat and his fingers touched her bare calf. “Thorn! You cannot—”

  He straightened so he could kiss her lips. “I can, and I will if you allow me to love you properly. Now relax your knees,” he ordered and she reluctantly obeyed. “There is no risk in letting me pet you. I may intend to deny myself, however, there is no reason why I cannot give you some satisfaction from this torment.”

  Olivia gripped a portion of her skirt to still his hand. “No one”—she cleared her throat—“no man has ever touched me like—”

  Thorn’s harsh expression eased with understanding. He knew when he had kissed her as Gideon that she was innocent in all ways. “I know. You have nothing to fear. Let me show you.”

  He had held more flexible boards in his arms, so he concentrated on her mouth. Her lips had reddened and lightly puffed from his kisses. He resisted the urge to slip his hand into his breeches and cup the hard stones drawn tight against his cock. A good squeeze would help him soothe the ache, and then his hand would move to the rigid length. As his hand glided to Olivia’s thigh, he thought about pushing the crown of his cock against the wet folds between her legs. He suckled her lower lips, and imagined breaching her maidenhead and filling her.

  The desire to cover her body with his and ease the lust pounding in his blood was a siren call. The sharp intake of her breath pulled him out of his musings and he became aware of the warm honey of her arousal as it spilled from her sheath.

  “A woman’s lust is addictive,” he murmured, marveling at the wetness coating his fingers as he stroked her. She trembled and her breath hitched in response. “It inspires a man to touch and to taste. What if I buried my face between your legs and satisfied you with my tongue? Would you let me touch you so brazenly?”

  “No one is that wicked,” she said hoarsely.

  He grinned because she looked scandalized. “Little innocent,” he affectionately teased. “The look on your face almost makes me want to forget my good intentions.”

  Of course, he was not feeling particularly “good” as he tormented himself with Olivia Lydall’s virginal body. He was selfish and sinful, and when she climbed into her bed this evening, he wanted her to think about all of the things he had done to her.

  There were so many things he could teach her.

  A part of him wanted to wash that look of innocence from her cornflower eyes. Preferably as he covered her pale body with his, and thrust his cock into her.

  One finger, slick with her desire, circled the opening of her womanly sheath. Olivia arched against him, her body tense with unknown needs and anxiety. She was tight, and the thought of being inside her almost sent him over the edge. Perspiration dotted his forehead and headed down his entire body. If he touched
the tip of his cock, he would likely feel wetness. Another sign of his acute state of arousal and need to fuck.

  Restraint.

  His shoulders were taut as a bow as he directed his energies toward pleasing Olivia. The pad of his thumb rubbed the swollen bud of flesh hidden in the silky nest of her slit. He listened to the changes in her breathing, adjusting the pressure and duration of his strokes until she was shaking and her skin was damp as his.

  “I can no longer bear it,” Olivia said, rising up and hugging him so her cheek rested against his shoulder as Thorn relentlessly teased her with his fingers.

  “Aye, you can,” he said fiercely. “You are hungry for my cock, are you not?”

  She buried her face and a soft choking sound came from her lips. His crude speech aroused and embarrassed her. He shallowly dipped two fingers into her sheath, when he wanted to slide them deeply into her. He growled as he fought his instincts.

  Olivia gasped and Thorn tightened his grip on her.

  “That’s it, Olivia,” he crooned into her ear. “Show me how much you want my cock.”

  She cried out in surprise as he zealously stroked her as she rubbed against him. Her fingers had curled into fists as she held on to the back of his evening coat. He felt the swollen, drenched flesh beneath his fingers spasm and he whispered bawdy words into her ear.

  Thorn held her as he felt the tension fade and she slumped against him. Although he was tantalized by the thought of seeing her passion rise within her, he was a mere mortal and his restraint had reached his limits. He slipped his hand free of her skirt.

  “How do you feel?” he said, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Once she came to her senses, she probably would not want him to touch her again.

  “I do not know.” Olivia shuddered and sighed. “My head feels like pudding.”

  “I did my best,” he said, trying not to sound too arrogant.

  She pulled away so she could meet his gaze. “Striving for compliments, my lord?”

  With a knowing smile on the curving corners of his mouth, he brought his bare fingers to his lips. His tongue lapped at the wetness before he deliberately inserted his fingers into his mouth so he could savor her arousal.

  “Words are unnecessary, when I can taste your gratitude.”

  Even in the dim interior, he could see the heightened color in her cheeks. The coach had stopped at some point, but Thorn had been too distracted to care. His coachman was well paid and he would wait until he received a signal to open the door.

  “You go too far, Thorn,” she said, attempting to push him away. He shifted so she could sit up, but within his embrace. “Whatever you did—we cannot do that again.”

  “Then I did something wrong,” he said, feigning disappointment. “I will not have it said that I leave a lady in distress.”

  Thorn reached for her. He was utterly content to lay his hands on her again since he had yet to find relief to his own torment.

  “I will not—I did not say—oh! You are twisting my words!” Olivia slapped at his hands on her waist. “Stop that!”

  He dragged her closer and she tipped her head back as if she was anticipating his kiss.

  I will oblige you, sweet Olivia.

  “Perhaps I will tell the coachman to keep driving until you are satisfied,” he said, kissing her throat. “Or, if you insist, we can remain until I am.”

  “Thorn!”

  The door opened and Thorn’s frustration boiled into anger at the intrusion.

  “I have not signaled—” he snarled.

  An oil lantern was thrust into the doorway and Olivia gasped. It wasn’t his coachman who had opened the door at an inopportune time. A very angry Lord Dewick scowled at Thorn and Olivia. Gideon and the coachman were standing behind him.

  “Papa!” Olivia cried with joy as she struggled to disentangle herself from Thorn’s embrace. “When did you arrive?”

  “I arrived hours ago,” her father said, his hard gaze sharpening as Thorn nonchalantly smoothed down a portion of her skirt that revealed more of her calf than was proper. “When I questioned the servants, no one could tell me where you had gone. I sent a boy to Lord Kempthorn’s residence to make a few inquiries to your whereabouts. Gideon was about to call on a few residences on my behalf.”

  “Forgive me, Papa,” she said, trying to edge away from Thorn. “I did not expect you this evening so I accepted Lady Arabella’s invitation to join her and her mother since they were attending Lady Purles’ ball.”

  Thorn applauded Olivia’s composure. He would have never thought her capable of deceit, but she was doing her best to brazen her way out of an awkward predicament. Nevertheless, he saw the truth burning in Lord Dewick’s and Gideon’s gazes.

  He and Olivia had been soundly caught in a very compromising position.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Olivia wanted to pinch Thorn.

  His casual pose was not fooling anyone. Her father and Gideon—not to mention the coachman—had caught them in an improper embrace and the earl did not have the decency to remove his arm that was still wrapped around her waist. The gentleman was behaving as if nothing had happened.

  The things he had done to her!

  Her face felt hot and the walls of the compartment confining. She would slide away from Thorn but his fingers dug into her hip. It was a warning to keep calm. They had been caught kissing. Nothing could be done. In private she would apologize to her father for her indelicate conduct.

  Lord Dewick stared at the earl. “If my daughter was with Lady Norgrave and her daughter, how is it that you are the one who is escorting her home?”

  “I am just being a good neighbor.”

  Olivia winced at Thorn’s sarcastic response.

  “Thorn,” Gideon said, silently cautioning his twin to not make the situation worse by provoking her father.

  “There was a—” Olivia felt the earl’s fingers again at her hips. She turned her head and frowned at him. She was not a horse that needed someone with a firm grasp of the ribbons to guide her in the proper direction.

  “I was unaware of Lady Arabella’s invitation or that your daughter had accepted,” Thorn interjected as if she could not speak on her own behalf. “When I encountered Miss Lydall at Lady Purles’ ball, I offered to see her home.”

  Olivia fumed. Her father was not an unreasonable man. He had no quarrel with Lord Norgrave. She could not fathom why Thorn was reluctant to tell her father the entire truth.

  “Very generous of you, Kempthorn,” Lord Dewick said, his face cast in uncompromising shadows. “I had no idea you had taken such a keen interest in Olivia.”

  “You are mistaken, Papa,” Olivia said, comprehending the direction of her father’s thoughts. “Lord Kempthorn was only following Lady Felstead’s orders.”

  A strangled laugh erupted from Gideon at the same moment the coachman suffered a coughing fit. Thorn’s fingers pressed deeper into her flesh. Olivia moved her hand until it covered his.

  She gave his fingers a hard squeeze.

  “No, it is true,” she said, radiating sincerity. “Lady Felstead was unhappy that I had decided to wait for you here while the preparations for the town house were under way so she asked her sons to visit from time to time.”

  “Daughter, I highly doubt the marchioness would approve of Kempthorn’s conduct,” Lord Dewick said sternly.

  She blinked. “Oh, you are referring to the kiss? It was nothing.”

  Thorn stirred beside her.

  Olivia flinched as the earl’s hand tightened like a vice on her hip. The man was going to give her bruises.

  She smiled serenely at her father. “I fear, Lord Kempthorn drank too much wine this evening. He lost his head and it amused him to kiss me.”

  Gideon covered his face with his hand.

  “Your account is not very flattering,” Thorn muttered. “Nor is it helpful.”

  “My father—”

  “Has good eyesight and a better understanding of young gentlemen than
you, daughter.” Lord Dewick handed the lantern to the coachman and then held out his hand to Olivia. “Bid Kempthorn farewell, and come along. You must be weary from your evening.”

  Olivia turned to Thorn. His enigmatic expression gave nothing away, so she could not tell if he was angry about the lies she had told her father about him being drunk. “Good evening, my lord.”

  “Good evening, Miss Lydall,” Thorn replied. “It was an honor to have you in my coach.”

  Olivia bit her lip but had the good sense not to reply.

  She clasped her father’s hand and shifted as Thorn’s hand on her hips eased. She was a bit unsteady on her feet. As she moved, the flesh between her legs felt wet and tender from his touch. She noticed her father’s gaze seemed to be focused on the front of her dress. It was then that she noticed the tiny reddish bruise just above her breast.

  A “love bite,” Thorn had called it.

  Olivia stifled a sigh. She could not imagine how this evening could get worse.

  * * *

  Thorn observed as Lord Dewick embraced his daughter. The man murmured something to Olivia. She nodded and replied, but her voice was too soft for him to eavesdrop. Having said her farewells to Thorn and Gideon, she walked toward the house with his coachman providing an escort. Any lady who had almost been thoroughly ravished in a coach might have been tempted to glance over her shoulder for some reassurance from the gentleman who had touched her until she was overwhelmed by the pleasure. Not Olivia. There was no hesitation in her gait.

  This did not bode well for him.

  When Lord Dewick had opened the door to the coach, Thorn had reached for his hat and placed it on his lap to conceal his erect cock from the baron and his innocent daughter. He need not have bothered. The older gentleman’s mute outrage and hard condemning stare had cooled Thorn’s ardor within minutes and withered his virile member.

  “Did you wish to speak with me, my lord?” Thorn drawled.

  “I do,” the baron bit out. With Olivia out of hearing range, the man did not bother to hide his anger. “This business with my daughter—”