She had anticipated an argument that would lead one of them to end their engagement.
Olivia had been unprepared for passion to flare from ire.
Thorn was the one who was half-dressed, but she was the one who felt naked and vulnerable.
“This is madness,” she said, unwilling to release the hard flesh he had invited her to touch. “I was so vexed with you, Thorn.”
“And I with you,” he said, rolling his hips against her hand. “See how angry I am at you?”
Olivia giggled.
“Here.” Thorn shifted his weight so he could use his right hand. He reached for the buttons at his waist and unfastened them. Next he released the two that secured his fall front. Before she could move her hand away he shackled her fingers, and her hand brushed against his virile member. “You hold the proof of my desire in your hand, my lady.”
Never had she ever pondered holding and coveting such intimate flesh. It was silk, heat, and strength. Just stroking it made her breasts ache and her clothes feel so confining. Curiosity unfurled within her and her legs moved restlessly as she wondered how his flesh would feel gliding against hers. It was a truly decadent thought. If Thorn was expecting her to undress in front of him, she would likely flee and seek refuge in the house.
Thorn, on the other hand, was shameless. His blissful expression told her that he enjoyed her caresses. He closed his eyes and allowed her fingers to explore his manhood. She traced the shape of him, and he shuddered. She took measure of his girth by encircling the crowning head. Several beads of liquid trickled from the opening, another sign of his arousal. In response, she noticed the growing dampness between her legs.
A soft mew escaped her lips when he drew back.
Thorn flashed a quick grin at her as he lowered his head and reached for her skirt.
Olivia instantly recalled the night he had caressed her in the coach. The wild reckless night that had resulted in their hasty engagement. She shivered and shifted impatiently as she thought of his fingers touching her as intimately has she had stroked him.
The night breeze danced over her stockings and coiled around her bare thighs as Thorn uncovered her legs as he pushed her skirt and petticoat higher. He shifted slightly, positioning himself between her legs.
“I look forward to undressing you,” he said huskily. His hand curved possessively against her right hip. “Though I doubt you would consent to lying naked beneath the night sky.”
Nervous laughter bubbled inside her. “No.” She tilted her head as a thought occurred to her. “Have you done such a thing before?”
He slowly shook his head. “We will be daring another day when neither of us has to worry about your father catching me fondling his daughter while I’m bare-arsed.”
“My father sent me home alone. He and Lady Grisdale had other plans,” she confessed, inhaling in quick shallow breaths.
“A blessing to be certain.”
As Thorn moved up her body, she felt his manhood slide up along with him, lightly rubbing against her inner thigh. The weight of that rigid length bobbed as he covered her with his body.
Thorn braced one of his hands near the side of her head. “You are exceptionally lovely,” he murmured. His dark green eyes examined her face, and he was pleased with what he saw. “I do not know why I did not see it right away.”
“Oh,” she huffed. Only the earl could compliment and insult her in one breath.
“I have offended you,” he said with a breathless laugh.
Olivia wiggled against him, but froze when the blunt head of his manhood glided against the soft nest of hair between her legs. She trembled. Thorn covered his mouth with hers and kissed her deeply.
“There are different types of beauty, Olivia. You have a face that a man could appreciate every day and still discover something new to marvel at,” he said between kisses. “Different angles … every mood. If I had the skill and patience to be an artist, I would be eager to sketch you.”
“You flatter me,” she said, both pleased and uncomfortable with his compliment.
His expression hardened at her dismissive tone. “No, I have flattered to get what I wanted from other women. I am speaking the truth to you, Olivia. My betrothed.”
“Oh,” she whispered, moved by his words.
Thorn lowered his head and kissed her reverently. She touched the tip of her tongue against his, and it was the only invitation he needed. The hand on her hip moved up to the front of her bodice. One firm tug, and he managed to free her breast. His head dropped lower and he latched on to her nipple and suckled.
It was a remarkable sensation that seemed to spread like warm honey until it dripped downward to the aching flesh between her legs. The heat and subtle stroking from his manhood against her now-drenched slit only heightened her sensitivity. She longed to press her knees together to ease the ache.
“Thorn,” she moaned, her head thrashing from side to side when he freed her other breast. “It is too much.”
His breath tickled as he expelled a mischievous chuckle as he noted the gooseflesh that appeared in patches on her arms and thighs. “Not nearly enough.”
The earl was devious. He understood her body better than she did, and Olivia was reluctant to dwell on how the gentleman had honed his skills. Ten minutes later, he had teased and tormented her, driving her to the brink of pleasure but always pulling her back. Every inch of her body ached and she wanted to bite him out of sheer frustration.
Thorn must have sensed her dark thoughts because he chose that moment to reach between her legs and guided his manhood so it pressed against her womanly sheath. She was so wet, the fully engorged head of his arousal sank deeper.
“Thorn.”
“You are ready for me, Olivia,” he murmured against her hot flesh. It was then that she realized that pleasuring her had wreaked havoc on the earl’s restraint. He had been holding back for her sake, and it had cost him.
“I am,” Olivia whispered, longing to free her and Thorn.
His head shot up and his dark green eyes were fierce as their gazes locked.
He moved his hips and the pressure increased as his manhood sank deeper into her sheath with each thrust. Suddenly, the resistance of her body gave way and he filled her. She winced at the unexpected fullness, but there was little discomfort.
Thorn muttered under his breath. It could have been praise or a curse.
Before Olivia could take her next breath, the earl tightened his grip on her and began to move. His hips set a swift pace as he plunged thoroughly into her womanly sheath and withdrew as her firm nipples grazed against his linen shirt. Her fingers curled around his shoulders as she seemed to feel Thorn’s possession everywhere. His lips devouring her mouth. His mouth nipping her shoulder and her breast. His fingers threading through her hair, squeezing the soft yielding globes of her breasts, while his other hand gripped her hip. The uncompromising virile staff of his manhood, breaching and claiming the heart of her womanly core over and over until her entire body felt as if it were engulfed in flames.
“Thorn!” she cried out as the muscles of her sheath tightened around him.
Thorn shouted her name at the same time and plunged his manhood so deeply she gasped. He buried his face into her shoulder, and a few seconds later hard pulses of wet heat filled her. He groaned in her embrace as his hips pressed against hers, his throbbing flesh needing to claim every inch of her.
The night breeze was already cooling her damp skin when Thorn raised his head. His gaze was unfocused but he leaned closer and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. He gave her a lopsided grin as his body gave one final shudder.
“A very satisfying end to my celibacy,” Thorn said before his mouth covered hers again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I should have bedded her a week ago, Thorn thought as he handed Olivia a glass of wine. The tension he had sensed increasing between them seemed to fade with the claiming of her maidenhead and the spilling of his seed. Although she was oblivi
ous to the significance, theirs had been a fair exchange. She had never taken a lover, and he had never permitted himself to come in a woman. He had no interest in populating England with his bastards, nor would he start with the one woman who was responsible for his lack of control this evening.
If Olivia was quickening with his child, they would marry.
For now, he was content to let his lover believe she could break their engagement once they left Town. Besides, there was no reason to dwell on potential obstacles.
He was in too good of a mood and he had the lady sitting demurely next to him to thank for it.
Olivia sipped her wine and offered a coy grin as she stared at him. She was looking astonishingly composed for a lady who had been ravished by him twenty minutes earlier. Her coiffure had lost its fragile moorings and had fallen into an alluring tangle of curls that framed her face.
He picked up a small plate. “Another almond biscuit?” he politely offered.
She selected one and groaned. “If you keep feeding me biscuits, I will need to order new dresses.”
“I can afford it,” he said casually as he tried not to picture Olivia with fuller cheeks and figure, her belly round and swollen with his child. The image in his head was so clear and unexpected, he shook his head to dispel it. “Are you certain you do not want one more biscuit?”
“Absolutely not.” She tossed her head back and laughed. “And you are a very wicked man to tempt me with my favorite dessert.”
“Tempting you is very rewarding.” He put aside the plate. “I am in a very good mood. Have I thanked you for it?”
“Twice,” she said, sending him a playful look. “You may thank me again, if you like.”
“I do,” Thorn said, his sated cock stirring within the confines of his fastened breeches as he contemplated taking Olivia again. “Come to me.”
A biddable lady, she crawled toward him then shrieked in surprise as he dragged her on to his lap.
“There. Much better,” he said, indulging himself by nibbling on her earlobe. “Did I hurt you? In my haste, I was clumsy—”
She placed her finger on his lips to silence him. “I am a little sore.” She paused and considered the degree of her discomfort. “Not overly much, I think. You do not want to—I mean, so soon?”
His body was willing, but Olivia had been a generous lover and there was no need for him to be greedy. He did not want to overwhelm her with his carnal demands. She was curious and eager, and he did not wish to discourage her.
“You need time to recover,” he said sternly.
Olivia giggled and without prompting kissed him lightly on the lips.
“I am trying to behave, you incorrigible minx,” he scolded. “Do not encourage me or I will forget all of my good intentions.”
Without releasing her, Thorn leaned forward and reached into the hamper to retrieve the box he had concealed there earlier. His fingers groped the interior until he found the item he wanted.
“Shut your eyes,” he ordered. “I have a surprise for you.”
Olivia dutifully covered her eyes with her hands. “What is it?”
“You will see soon enough,” he said, amused by her excitement. Very few ladies could resist an unexpected gift. “You are free to open your eyes.”
Her hands fell away from her face and she saw the jeweler’s box in Thorn’s hand. “You bought me a present?”
“No, I bought it for Lady Millicent,” was his teasing reply, and to punish him she pinched him. “Of course it is for you. Did you think I would overlook your birthday?”
Her lower lip quivered with emotion. “With all of the excitement, I did not think anyone remembered it was my”—she inhaled and fought back tears—“I cannot believe you remembered.”
“Maybe I heard it from Gideon,” Thorn said dismissively to cover his reaction to her gratitude. He had not realized that her father and Lady Grisdale had failed to recognize the special importance of this day. It angered him that Olivia was often overlooked by those who claimed to care for her.
Including him.
“Open the box,” he gruffly ordered.
Olivia did not hesitate. She took the box and removed the lid. She removed a delicate gold bracelet that looked like a chain of flowers. The center link was a larger and more ornate bloom with a rectangular-cut emerald in the middle surrounded by five small diamonds.
“It is beautiful,” she said, not taking her eyes off the bracelet. “I do not own anything finer.” She clutched his gift in her fist and met his gaze with her eyes brightened by unshed tears. “Thank you, Thorn. Though I should warn you, my father may not approve of your extravagance and insist that I return the bracelet.”
She kissed his cheek.
“You and I are betrothed,” Thorn reminded her. “I am allowed to spoil you with a few trinkets. If your father protests, tell him to bring his complaints to my door. I will handle Lord Dewick.”
The baron would soon learn he had greater concerns than Thorn giving Olivia gifts.
Chapter Thirty
Lady Grisdale often reminded Lord Dewick and Olivia that there were benefits to being engaged to Lord Kempthorn. London’s Polite Society finally took note of Miss Lydall. Her connection to Lord and Lady Felstead and distantly to the Duke and Duchess of Blackbern guaranteed that invitations arrived each day, and there was a steady flow of visitors who were curious about the lady who had ensnared the handsome earl’s heart.
Her father had predicted that engagement to Thorn would not discourage gentlemen callers. Olivia could not fathom how the male brain worked. When she was unattached, she strolled through ballrooms practically invisible to the eligible bachelors. Now that these same gentlemen viewed her as unattainable, she had become the most desirable lady in the room.
The earl was not amused.
Gideon thought his brother’s predicament was rather entertaining. Every time Thorn grumbled about all of the gentlemen he had to trip over to get to his betrothed, Gideon reminded him that if he wished to discourage Olivia’s numerous admirers, all he had to do was marry her. Thorn did not disagree but he did not appear cheered by the notion either.
It was awkward moments like this that reminded Olivia that her engagement to Lord Kempthorn would eventually come to an end. It was difficult to hope that Thorn might be resigned to marrying her when his twin’s teasing always had him fleeing out the nearest door.
Perhaps her father was correct. Olivia should concentrate on the gentlemen who sought her company. Mr. Chauncey, in particular, had been rather dedicated in his platonic courtship. It troubled her that she would rather remain betrothed to a reluctant lover than break her engagement for a gentleman who hinted that he desired to offer her more than a tepid friendship.
Not that she could find fault in Thorn’s behavior. He had been the consummate gentleman since he ravished her under the midnight sky. More than ten days had passed since that fateful night. She could almost believe that she had dreamed the earl’s lovemaking.
Except for the smoldering looks he gives me when he believes I am not paying attention.
No, Lord Kempthorn wanted her. Olivia just needed to remind him how rewarding it was for both of them when he gave into his desires.
Speak of the devil—or perhaps “scoundrel” was more applicable.
Sensing she was being observed, Olivia searched Lord and Lady Howland’s ballroom until she found him. Her gaze locked with Thorn’s. He was standing on the other side of the large room with his cousin and Gideon. She sighed, ignoring the twinge of disappointment that he was unwilling to come to her. It was pride that kept her from joining him.
Thorn turned away and murmured something to his companions. All three gentlemen laughed. Olivia glanced away. Perhaps Thorn had decided celibacy was preferable to bedding her. She whirled halfway to increase the distance between her and her betrothed and almost collided with Lady Millicent.
“I do beg your pardon,” Olivia said without thought. There was no reason to be rud
e.
The young lady looked across the ballroom and noticed Thorn. Her lips curved in triumph as she deduced there was discord between Olivia and Thorn.
“Poor Olive,” Lady Millicent said, using the old nickname that Olivia detested. “It does not look good when the gentleman you are engaged to is reluctant to greet you when you enter a room.” She tapped her closed fan against her chin.
“Lord Kempthorn will join me when he is finished speaking with his family,” Olivia said, her voice lacking warmth and sounding defensive. “Not that it is any of your business.”
Lady Millicent gripped Olivia by the upper arm to halt her departure. “I do not know what you did to trick Thorn into this farce of an engagement. However, it is apparent to everyone who knows him that he is already regretting his decision.”
Olivia knew the young lady spoke out of spite and jealousy. Unfortunately, Lady Millicent’s cruel words echoed her own private fears. “I heard a rumor that you have some experience with broken engagements. You have my sympathies.”
The other woman’s fingers tightened on her arm. “Who told you?”
“I do not recall.” Olivia shrugged and pulled her arm free from Lady Millicent’s hold.
“It is unlike you to be coy, Miss Lydall,” Lady Millicent cooed as her eyes hardened and glittered menacingly. “My dear friend, I insist that you tell me who has been telling lies about me.”
“Let me be clear. You and I are not friends, Lady Millicent,” Olivia said, standing her ground. She had been mocked and bullied by this young woman since they were children and she had reached her limit. “Nor have you ever behaved in a manner that encouraged me to offer you my friendship. Even so, I feel the need to give you a bit of advice. Your failings are not mine, no matter how dearly you wish them to be. If Thorn wanted you, he would have done something about it years ago.”
“How dare you!” Lady Millicent seethed with outrage.
Olivia stepped closer. What she had to say was private. “I dare because ignoring you has never spared me from your cruel remarks. Although you do not deserve it, I see that you are in pain. You have had the misfortune of loving two gentlemen who were incapable of returning your affection. For that alone, I find that I pity you.”
Waiting for an Earl Like You Page 27
