by Heather Boyd
She raised one brow haughtily. “I assume you mean during our arguments—or was it every time you laid eyes on me?”
He waggled his eyebrows, and traced the faint outline of his fingers on her white skin. “Usually as you walk away from me. I’ve often wanted to reach out, throw you over my knee, and spank you for making such devastating use of the naughty tongue in your head. You’ve the devil in you some days, I swear.”
Esme flattened herself on the bed, resting her head on her folded arms. “I’m rather restrained compared to some.”
“Believe me, you are certainly not.” Richard bent and kissed the mark he’d made because his heart truly wasn’t interested in punishing her. He just wanted to do everything with her, at least once, to see how she’d react. He was going to store up her every reaction for later use. He intended to have ample material at his disposal when he met with her during the coming months. It was about time he had something to hold over her head.
“You are exciting.” He ran his fingers along her sides. “Do you enjoy lovers who spank you?”
“Occasionally.”
He pressed a kiss to her waist and whispered, “What other naughty things do you like to do, Esme?”
“Richard, you don’t need any suggestions to improve your technique with me.”
He grinned at her rare use of his given name. So far she’d only said it, screamed it, during release. He took in her form—arms raised; bare, tempting skin—and rejoiced in his good fortune in being her lover at last. He’d never intended to become intimately involved with Esme but he couldn’t imagine denying himself the satisfaction of making love to her.
He slid his fingers around her ankles and widened her legs, posing her so he could glimpse the damp pink lips of her quim.
But if she were standing, she would be the most perfect Hill bride in history.
He swallowed hard at that train of thought. Damn Oswin for suggesting it. He could actually imagine abducting, tethering and fucking Esme in the dark forest according to family tradition. Where he normally grew appalled at the notion, imagining Esme that way filled him with intense desire to take her there tonight. Gods he wanted her. Wanted to keep her. Wanted to fuck her all night and every night for the rest of his life.
He hung his head and tried to push the desire away. He couldn’t do that to Esme; take her to the woods, not without her permission or at least feeling she could accept such a situation.
He turned her over and crawled onto the bed. He set his hands on each side of her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Have you ever been bound for sex?”
Her smile was amused. “Yes.”
“And?”
“It is not something a woman should do without knowing the man very well.” She touched his face with just the tips of her fingers. “I like to use my hands.”
He quivered as she stroked his throat and then moved on to caress his chest. She teased his nipples, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. He had to know. “Would you trust me to restrain you, should the opportunity arise during a tryst?”
She slid her hands down his sides. “What do you have in mind, lover?”
He met her gaze hesitantly and saw only amusement reflected in her eyes. “That, I cannot confess. It is a fantasy that I am wary to speak of.”
“I would trust you not to hurt me.” She smiled then, blindingly bright and honestly. She raised her hands above her head and mimicked being bound for him. “I believe no matter the position, I would always find pleasure with you.”
Richard kissed her hard.
All his life he’d been somewhat ashamed of his family’s history with women. With the manner in which they took their wives, and the perpetuation of a superstition that promised prosperity and relied on blind faith. It was ridiculous, backward, and utterly wrong in this day of enlightenment. He’d never intended to take his bride, but he could share a night like that with Esme for all the right reasons. He knew it bone deep that he wanted to have her, make her tremble with pleasure until she screamed.
He would not be using her or degrading her. Esme was beautiful and confident in her nudity. She was everything he wanted in a woman.
Her gaze skimmed down his torso and dropped to his erection. He ached for her to touch him. She did, but softly, the tips of her fingers trailing fire up and down his length. She skimmed the head of his cock with her finger, spreading his seed all around.
When she raised her finger to her lips and licked it clean, he growled. “So be it.”
He lowered himself to her body and wrapped her arms and legs about him. They kissed, deeply and with all the skill they possessed. Esme dug her fingers into his hips and urged him to enter her.
“You do like me.” He filled her, watching her blue eyes widen. “As much as I like you.”
“I…” Esme squeezed her eyes shut and drew his head to her shoulder. “Make love to me.”
Richard loved her slowly, never allowing the frenzy of their previous couplings to overtake him. The feelings she’d already stirred in him amplified. With her legs wrapped around him, her hands clutching his sides, he felt something shift inside him a little more. He could get used to this feeling. He could get used to her being in his life.
As he drew back to look into her face, Esme shifted to force him up to his knees and rolled to her stomach beneath him. Then she set her arms to the mattress and rose. She presented him with her pert little bottom and Richard reentered her from behind, fighting an urge to grasp her hair and fuck her hard and fast. He’d fought the same inner battle their first night as lovers and almost lost his mind trying to hold back.
Richard liked this position too much. In this pose, Esme was as submissive as he’d likely ever find her. He skimmed a hand along her back, over her shoulder, and then grasped the back of her neck. He squeezed and Esme’s body clenched around his cock like a vise. He bit back an oath. Fighting to keep control as he rammed into her.
He released her and caught her hips firmly with both hands. Esme shuddered and gasped, rocking back into him relentlessly. He increased his pace until she was moaning to every thrust. He grinned at her incoherent babble. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed vigorous sex in this manner. So far he’d yet to discover anything she didn’t like. Their passions matched; if only their tempers could always. He would take whatever he could get tonight and be content.
He exhaled sharply.
But before the house party ended, he would take her to the woods. He didn’t think he could live without this. Without her passionate response to guide his.
Bowing to the inevitable, he set a steadier pace and glanced down. His cock slid wetly from Esme’s tight sheath and he threw more of his body weight against her.
She braced herself with her arms, her head lowered to the mattress and her soft moan filled his ears. “Yes, Richard. Oh yes.”
He slammed into her hard and fast, causing those soft moans to grow to desperate sobs. He gave her everything he had, his heart slamming against his ribs, his skin slicking with sweat. Damn, but he could make love to her all night and never tire of it.
Esme squeezed him suddenly, her body clenching tightly around his length as she came. He cried out a moment later as his own release spilled inside her. He fell over her, and they knelt there on his large bed, gasping for every breath.
Slowly, Esme crumpled to the mattress and Richard followed, sprawling half over her. He moved her damp hair away from her eyes. “You are amazing.”
She caught his fingers and brought them to her lips. All of a sudden, she started to laugh against them. The soft, earthy chuckle filled his soul with wonder. Esme was happy, and he’d caused her to be.
“What is it?”
“I imagine I will regret saying this as soon as tomorrow, but,” she kissed his fingers, “you’re not so bad yourself.”
High praise indeed, but… “Wait and tell me in a few days’ time if you still mean it.”
Thirteen
“I must say,
you’ve impressed me,” Harriet whispered to Esme. They sat alone together in a quiet corner of the drawing room after dinner. “It takes a determined woman to tame that rogue of his wandering eye and by all accounts, Windermere has turned aside every invitation to dabble elsewhere during the last few days.”
A pleasant hum of anticipation coursed through her body at the thought of how she’d spent her time during this particular house party. Esme was well satisfied with her unexpected fling. She’d had Richard as a lover and there seemed no wavering of his attention or a reduction in pleasure. “I’ve not tamed him.”
Despite the thrill of her affair, Windermere was not a man to keep around for long. She reminded herself that their time together as lovers was almost over.
Esme yet again considered their affair. Unfortunately, it no longer seemed to align to her deepest wishes to end it, even though she must. During those moments after release when Windermere held her in his arms so tightly, one’s breath slowing in time with the other’s, their hot bodies cooling, her traitorous thoughts strayed to a future that just might feature more of the man holding her.
A future she couldn’t ever take up.
A woman of her years and experience shouldn’t delude herself that they had a chance just because he was exciting, funny and rather thoughtful, now she’d spent more time alone with him. He did still annoy her at times, but it had become harder and harder to express her dissatisfaction out loud. She didn’t want to spoil their time together. It was his knowing smile, perhaps, or the discreet slide of his hand over her body that silenced her and made her think of carnal pleasures so often.
Always, with him.
Harriet pursed her lips a moment then leaned close. “Then you won’t mind if he meets with another lady?”
The question jarred Esme. She might have a mutually satisfactory arrangement with Windermere for the time being, but there had never been any doubt she’d lose him to another woman sooner rather than later.
A long-term affair with a man like Windermere was as ludicrous as suggesting she would have a child of her own one day. The earl needed a wife and a son more than a barren lover, no matter how thrilling their intimate encounters were.
A wave of sadness ripped though the idea of Windermere holding his son and shadowy wife in his arms. Caught by surprise, she blinked at the distress such a scene caused her. “No, of course not,” she managed to choke out. “He must marry to ensure the succession.”
“Oh, Esme. You look about to cry.” Harriet gently patted her hand. “Are you certain you could bear it?”
She shook her head to sweep away her confusing feelings. “I must not consider any other outcome. You know what I am.”
“Barren,” Harriet whispered and then caught up her hand. “I wished it wasn’t so, for I’ve never seen you as content as you have been this week.”
“He has faults.” However, there wasn’t much wrong with him aside from his high opinion of himself. That hadn’t changed with increased intimacy. He was always fishing for compliments.
“Would it surprise you to learn that Hammond has invited me to visit with him next? I believe I will take him up on his generous offer and go there after the party, instead of returning to London.”
Esme snapped her attention back to her friend. “I thought you were eager to go home to your son?”
“Alexander doesn’t really need me.” Harriet sighed. “His uncle likely won’t want me there either. He writes often to say my son has blossomed under his care.”
Harriet had a difficult relationship with her son and her late husband’s family. Her son listened too much to them and disregarded his mother at every opportunity.
“A change of scenery would be nice and Hammond has been going on about his new property so much that I’d like to see the place for myself.” Harriet’s gaze darted across the room and a frown creased her brow. “Yes, a new view of a different countryside will be just the thing for me.”
Esme discreetly turned to see what Harriet peeked at.
Lord Avery Hill had rejoined the party at last. He’d not been seen for several days and Esme had assumed he’d left the estate entirely. Dressed to perfection, the gentleman appeared no worse for wear and was even bowing over the hand of a lady he’d insulted while deep in his cups. Judging by the lady’s smile, all had been forgiven between them. “He appears to have recovered his composure.”
Harriet lifted her fan and beat it furiously before her face. “He indulged in a fit of childish pique at being refused, nothing deeper.”
Esme did not believe that for a moment. “He did seem genuinely upset when we spoke.”
Her friend snapped her fan shut. “If he was indeed as distraught as you claim, might the man not have taken steps to keep me in his life? I’ve seen nothing of him for days and now he’s flirting with every woman who comes near him.”
As Lord Avery buckled over and laughed heartily at a jest made by another smiling lady, Esme groaned. Perhaps she had been wrong about him after all. “I see your point.”
“Now whose point are we discussing? Mine, I hope.” Miles Hammond dropped into the space at Harriet’s left and caught up her hand. When he kissed the back of it, Harriet blushed and fluttered her fan before her face. The two of them shared a secret smile.
Esme gaped at them. “What are you doing?”
“I rather think that is obvious.” Hammond smiled wickedly. “Are you feeling left out of my affections, sweetheart? There’s always room for you in my heart.”
His sudden switch from friend to the appearance of a hungry swain set her teeth on edge. “Don’t be absurd.”
Hammond shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He leaned close to Harriet and whispered in her ear. Whatever confidence he shared caused Harriet to laugh softly and lift her hand to his face. “What a delicious idea.”
Esme tore her gaze away from the flirting couple, utterly shocked to her core. Harriet and Hammond? Not in a million years could they be right for each other beyond friendship.
Lord Avery Hill hadn’t missed the romantic exchange between Harriet and Hammond either. His smile slipped away as he openly stared at the couple. He clenched his fists at his side and Esme closed her eyes. This was worse than attending the theatre.
Hammond chuckled again, pressed a kiss to Harriet’s fingers. “Until later, sweetheart.”
When he excused himself, Esme pounced on Harriet for an explanation immediately. “What do you think you are doing with him?”
“I am living the life I want to live,” Harriet declared hotly.
“Are you sure?” Harriet had wanted a life with Lord Avery Hill. She’d confessed herself in love with the scoundrel. And Harriet never fell hard for anyone. “This new direction into Hammond’s arms makes not the smallest amount of sense. You’ve always been wary of his dark nature. You don’t like what he likes.”
“Our interest in each other is very real, I assure you.” Harriet smiled tightly. “Do not interfere.”
“I don’t mean to interfere but I do question your judgment. Hammond couldn’t be more wrong for you,” Esme warned. “I’m afraid you’re making a terrible mistake without thinking of the consequences.”
“He wants to change. To settle down, and in that our interests align.” Harriet held her ground a moment longer then her shoulders sagged. “Must you always have to stick your nose where it’s not wanted?”
“I thought I knew what you wanted, so of course I will speak up.” She frowned severely. “You don’t have the same tender feelings for Hammond as you have for another man who shall remain nameless. You’re playing with fire and I don’t like to see either of you hurting yourselves when there’s no reason to. You’re my friends.”
Harriet shrugged. “We are not playing, Esme.”
“Oh!” she stuttered, and took another quick glance around the room. “Well, a certain idiot is openly staring at you, so I’m not the only one surprised by your changed relationship with Hammond.”
&
nbsp; “Kettle. Pot. Black.” Harriet tossed her head. “Windermere stares at you just as much tonight. Wasn’t there a part of you that wanted revenge against Meriwether when he announced his marriage?”
She had indeed. She sank into the chair, feeling embarrassed with her outburst. She had no call to question the way Harriet lived her life when her own love life was just as unconventional.
“I suppose you are right. I’m sorry, my friend. I’m just as guilty of playing with fire as you are.” She met Harriet’s gaze and her friend nodded, accepting her apology. “He does that a lot. Stares at me, I mean.”
But when she glanced across the room to where Richard stood in mixed company, her pulse jumped in the most disconcerting way because he wasn’t paying her any attention.
Look at me, lover.
Richard turned his head in her direction and heat smoldered in his blue eyes when their gazes met.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a subtle smile of acknowledgement.
“Well, you are exquisite.” Harriet laughed softly. “We both deserve to be noticed.”
She lowered her eyes quickly, disconcerted by how much she craved Windermere even now. They had met briefly this morning in his study, a fast and furious tongue lashing across his mahogany desk that had sent papers and ornaments crashing to the floor. Heat warmed her cheeks and she could almost feel his breath beating across her skin as he whispered her name in the wake of her release. A release he’d not shared this time. It was the first time he’d ever held back. She owed him and would repay him soon, but she had to get her traitorous libido under control first.
“Ladies.” Richard’s deep voice interrupted her train of thought, sending tremors of lust tumbling through her limbs. “I trust you have everything you need.”
Her pussy quivered as she met his gaze. Not yet.
“Oh, yes.” Harriet glanced between them and then chuckled softly. “But I was telling my dear friend how weary I am this evening. I was about to wish her a good night and retire. Until tomorrow.”
