She slowed when she grew light headed. Apprehension increased the tightness in her chest when a shiver skipped down her spin, informing her Evan was close. Her clumsy steps couldn’t take her far enough away from him, even with the house tauntingly close now.
A strong hand curled around her upper arm and forced her to a stop. She whirled on him and her head spun. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Lilly, slow down, you shall break your ankle at such a pace.”
“Do you fear I may hurt myself and ruin your investment?” she panted.
His jaw worked. With the sun behind him, shadows haunted his expression, making the grooves in his brow deeper, the dip in his chin stronger. Even his eyes appeared dark and intimidating.
“If you insist on referring to yourself in such a manner,” he said coolly, “I shall have to treat you as no more than a piece of merchandise.”
She scowled and squeaked when he took a step forward. Then he had her in his arms and had scooped her up. She wriggled and shoved against his chest but she may well have been pushing against a mountain. He barely acknowledged her struggles as he settled her, and her heavy, encumbering skirts, into his hold. When he started walking, she was forced to loop her hands around his neck.
“Put me down,” she hissed.
“No. I shall carry you about as though you’re a product. A sack of grain perhaps.” He adjusted his hold. “You are heavy enough for one.”
Lilly gaped at him. How dare he? “The servants will see!”
“My dear Lilly, if you think the worst thing the servants will see will be me carrying you, you sorely misunderstand our agreement. I fully intend that they may even see me kiss you. And I shall not embarrass you by reminding you that servants have a knack of hearing and knowing everything. Before long, I shall have you crying out with pleasure in bed. How will you look them in the face after that?”
Heat scalded her cheeks. Of course, it was bad enough that the servants knew of her status but she had tolerated gossip and humiliation before. Whispers of her birth often followed her but usually from those of her own rank or higher. Her own servants had never failed to be anything but courteous. Would Evan’s staff laugh and talk of her? Of the fallen woman who had been coaxed into Lord Hawksley’s bed?
She clamped her mouth shut and tolerated him carrying her to the door of the house, at which point she increased her struggles and he released her.
“You are intolerable,” she spat, thrust her chin in the air and stormed into the house.
Lilly didn’t stop until she was safely in her bedroom. She slammed the door and pressed herself against it to gain her breath. Once her breaths had slowed and her aching lungs stopped protesting, she tore off her gloves and flung them on the dark wood writing desk by the window.
The door swung open abruptly and Lilly turned to face Evan, indignation making her spine stiff. Was she to tolerate such behavior every day? Would there be no respite from him? It was funny how now simply lying with him no longer seemed the most challenging part of their deal.
“You are mine, Miss Claremont.” He stalked toward her, his words punctuating each step.
Lilly backed up against the writing desk and her pulse wavered. Even the stiffness in her body melted. The man knew well how to intimidate her.
“Just because you purchased me, Lord Hawksley,” she said archly, “doesn’t mean you can own me fully. No man can own a person’s thoughts or… or their heart.”
“Indeed.” Evan flattened himself against her, crushing her skirts and pressing her bustle into the desk. Fabric crunched and her breathing grew loud in her ears. “I have no doubt, my dear Lilly, that no man could hope of owning your thoughts, as for your heart…” He shrugged and pushed himself against her until it felt like there wasn’t an ounce of material between them, even though her bulky skirts should have protected her. “I have little interest in it. But there are many, many other things a man can own. The small sigh a woman makes when he enters her. Or the tiny tremor that wracks her body when he kisses her neck.”
Evan skimmed a finger down from her ear to the curve of her neck, forcing his fingers under the fabric of her gown. She tried. Oh, how she tried to resist shuddering, but her body had a mind of its own and she longed to tear off Evan’s smug smile when the tiny movement wracked her.
The tips of her ears burned at his words and touches. Each breath seemed impossible against her constrictive corset and his weight pressing in on her. Add to that his fierce look—a look she was unable to tear her gaze away from—and she feared she might do something as pathetic as swoon.
One arm came around her, then the other and she flailed to drag in some air. The man was intending to kill her with a simple touch. His hands clasped the back of her dress and a great ripping sound resounded through the room. Air rushed into her lungs and she let out a squeal of surprise.
He had torn her dress! And even ripped apart the laces of her corset by the feel of it. She sucked in another breath as he let his hands linger around her waist. “What are you doing?”
“Preventing you from swooning, I believe.”
“You have ruined my dress!” Though in truth, she cared little for the dress anymore. Not now the intense gleam to his eyes had gone from anger to desire. His hands fairly burned through the layers of her clothing.
“I shall buy you a new one,” he murmured and brought his lips down on hers.
Any words of protest were muffled and she instinctively bucked into him, wilted into his hold. Fingers tangled around his neck, Lilly opened her mouth to him, eager to feel his tongue against hers.
Evan obliged and met her kiss hungrily—with impatience. All delicacy had gone. Evan made no allowances for her inexperience, taking everything he could from her until her breaths were more ragged than when in the confines of the corset. How she had gone from burning fury to desperate need, she did not know, but his scrabbling hands and delving tongue drew any further debates from her mind. Lilly relished his loss of control—and her own. No more thinking and worrying about her decision.
His fingers wound up in her hair, tugging at the pins and sending spiraling curls down her back. One hand slipping down to her neck and the other on her waist again, he urged her back over the desk so it took her weight. Evan shifted impatiently against her and her breasts ached against their confines. With a gruff curse, he shoved aside her skirts to position himself in the cradle of her legs. The layers of fabric hindered him from getting close enough and he pulled at the material until it rent apart enough for him to slot himself against her.
Lilly barely registered the sound of her tattered dress being further destroyed. Even the tiny thread of nervousness refused to unwind and envelop her. His kisses shut down her thoughts, his touches drowned her emotions. All she wanted was his touch. She had never known anything like it. Her body ached everywhere and only Evan could cure her of her ailment.
A hand slipped into her drawers, pressing aside the cotton to meet her heat. For a moment, Evan moved tentatively but when Lilly bucked to meet his hand, any hint of caution vanished and he plunged his fingers into her. She gasped and stiffened. Her sex was tender still from the previous night yet when he withdrew and plunged again, she found herself rocking into the touch as a different kind of ache took hold.
“You’re so wet and tight,” he told her against her lips. “I cannot help but lose myself in you. I shall lose myself again I think.”
Lilly nodded and groaned when he continued to work his fingers in and out while dragging his lips down her jaw line to her neck. Evan nipped and suckled there until she quivered all over. Hastily, he dropped his hands from her to fumble with his trousers while scattering erratic kisses on her lips and face. Lilly glanced between them to see his hardness and the urge to feel it made her fingers curl against his neck.
Fearing she would break the moment, she kept her hands on him and waited. Their gazes clashed as he positioned himself in the crook of her thighs and urged her stockinged legs a
round his waist. Those deep dark, chocolaty pools drew her in and made her forget their surroundings, forget who he was to her. For a moment, she even forgot he had paid for her. They were just two lovers caught up in a desire stronger than either of their will.
He parted the opening in her drawers and velvety heat touched her folds. He gave her no time to tense or worry. Using one long, strong thrust, he drove into her. Sparks resounded through her mind and she let out a cry.
She heard him curse roughly, though it sounded far away. All Lilly could do was grasp his shoulders and pray he did not stop.
“Forgive me, Lilly,” he muttered.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
The slight twinge dissipated with his every rocking movement. She needed more. To be filled so deeply was so foreign yet completely satisfying. It destroyed every memory of the pain of the night before or the awkwardness. It left a simmering heat that built in her sex. She didn’t know what to do with it so she simply hung on and let him take the lead—let him take all she had.
Evan claimed her mouth and gripped her thighs around him. The desk creaked and his harsh breaths matched her own. Hot, searing pleasure gathered deep inside. Lilly tensed and dug her nails into his jacket. She thrashed, unable to control herself as it consumed her. He barely slowed as her orgasm took hold, unleashing itself upon her with such force it brought tears to her eyes.
She trembled and tried to draw in breaths as Evan broke the unsteady kiss to gaze at her. His face crumpled and his grip on her legs tightened. Head still swimming, limbs warm and tingly, she stared on while his peak hit. He released a guttural sound and spilled himself inside her. Warmth filled her and he buried his head in the crook of her neck.
Lilly brought a hand up to stroke his hair, his little jerking movements and uneven breaths making him seem oddly vulnerable. She fingered his silky locks and soothed him as if he were a child. Her heart stretched as she registered his length still in her. Joined as close as two people could be, she smiled. He had enjoyed that, had he not? Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a one off. Bedding the marquess would not be a chore at all if they repeated such a performance. Strange how they could seldom agree on anything yet for a few moments, their bodies seemed in complete agreement.
Evan withdrew slowly and her heart sank as he broke away. She braced herself for one of his wry smiles or a cold look but when she drew her gaze to his she found him eyeing her tenderly. His lips did curl, but there was no bitterness or teasing to them. Evan fished out a handkerchief and handed it to her to clean up.
Cheeks warm, she cleaned herself up, keeping her gaze down, then went to hand it back before pausing and fisting it in one hand. He chuckled.
“I shall take it.” He took the soiled linen from her and repositioned her rent skirts.
Lilly glanced down to see he had only caused a slight rip but she did not think it would be repairable. The give in the seams at the back definitely would not be.
“It seems I owe you a new dress.”
“You do indeed.” She failed to prevent a laugh. “I hope you will not be ruining all my dresses. It could cost you a small fortune.”
“You’re saying you do not wish me to take you here, on the desk, again?” He peered over her shoulders. “In full view of the gardens?”
She smacked his arm. “Lord Hawksley!”
“You do, I can tell. Miss Claremont, it seems I had you read very wrong. You are not a proper lady at all.”
“Well, that we both know. I shall never be a proper lady and certainly not after people find out I am your mistress.”
“You are right. And I, for one, am grateful. There are enough proper ladies in the world. Who needs one more?”
Lilly thought she ought to be offended. Her usual indignation refused to rise. He was right. She had never been that good of a lady no matter how hard her mother tried to instill the right values in her. Appearances only got you so far when the taint of your birth followed you everywhere. She had spent too long in her own company, away from proper society, to be overly concerned with manners.
However, that didn’t mean she expected to enjoy such scandalous behavior—not after last night.
His amused expression dropped as he aided her off the desk. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked quietly.
“No. Though I may have bruises on—” She stopped herself from pointing or saying the words, fearing she might swoon from more embarrassment. Evan took the hint and drew her into him to clasp her rear in both hands.
“What do you do to me, sweet Lilly? I am growing hard again already.”
“Must you always speak so bluntly?” she whispered.
“Always.”
“I am… I am not experienced in this,” she said, grasping the lapels of his jacket and staring at the fabric.
“I am aware of that. But you do a very fine job. And there are few women with as blunt a tongue as you.”
“A fine job?” She released his jacket but he did not let her retreat.
“Ah, when will you learn I have no ability to flatter and sweet-talk women?”
Lilly chuckled. She could not help herself. A buzz still fluttered through her veins and the softness in his expression, the nearness of his body prevented her from summoning any anger. A rarity for her in his proximity. But she was learning. She had learned Evan’s hard eyes grew soft when he was buried in her and that the most endearing, helpless look came across his face at the point of orgasm.
“I wonder how it is you have got this far in life, Evan. You must have angered many women.”
“I am rich,” he said smugly. “I can behave however I wish.”
“I do not think for one minute you believe that.”
He grinned, a wide, undisguised smile that stole her breath. The change in him made him more handsome than ever. Lilly longed to see that smile more often.
“You read me far too well, Lilly.”
“That is a bad thing?”
His grin compressed and he eyed her. “Maybe.” Landing a kiss on her forehead, he released her. “I shall send Anne up to help you get cleaned and redressed.”
Lilly fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. “What shall I say?”
“Say you tripped and ripped your dress.”
“She will not believe me!”
“Likely not, but what else shall you say? That her master is so impatient to be buried inside you, he tore your skirts asunder?”
“You are truly shocking, my lord.” And yet she couldn’t help cherish his mischievous tone. If his mood changed so vastly after love making every time, this year would not be so hard to bear at all.
Chapter Twelve
Nearly a week later, Evan had been tempted to retreat to his study and finish answering the letters that had piled up since visiting with Lady Stanley, but Lilly coaxed him into the drawing room.
“Don’t leave me alone all evening,” she begged. “I shall die of boredom. This will be our last night together before you leave for London.”
He arched a brow and suppressed a smile at her melodramatic tone. “Die? Really?”
“Lord Hawksley, you didn’t bring me all the way here to ignore me.” She shoved her hands onto her hips. “Now come and read to me.”
“Read to you?”
Lilly ignored him and snatched his hand to drag him into the drawing room. She pushed him toward the chaise and motioned for him to sit. Evan shook his head and wondered how it was she commanded him so easily. Perhaps she had fried his common sense when she had exploded beautifully in his arms. He suspected he would never forget her breathy cries or the feeling of her tight around him. He couldn’t get enough of her.
After their first night, he had to admit he had feared they would not find their feet together but the moment in her bedroom had persuaded him otherwise. Had she really let him take her on a desk? Even now his body heated at the thought.
She handed over a book and planted herself next to him, hands in her lap. He glanced at the title
and groaned. “This? Where did you find it? I don’t remember stocking any gothic novels in the study.”
“I brought it with me.”
He opened the first page and grimaced at the opening line. He had never heard of the author but he could tell they would never amount to much. Clearing his throat, he paused and eyed her. “You really want me to read to you?”
She nodded, a teasing smile on her face. Her eyes glinted, and he suspected this was either a test or some ploy to embarrass him. Well, he did not embarrass that easily. He began to read, forcing himself to read slowly and seriously, even as he cringed inwardly at the awkward prose. Gradually, Lilly softened and eased into his side. His breath hitched and he stumbled over a few words.
“This book is terrible,” he said finally, closing it.
“I know.” She giggled.
“Then why torture me so? Why do you have it with you?”
“It was my mother’s.”
Evan grimaced to himself. “Forgive me.”
“It’s fine. She knew it was terrible too but loved it. I like having something she loved with me.”
“You must miss her.”
“It has been many years now. She died in her sleep when I was five and ten.”
Evan recalled Claremont mentioning as much but let her continue.
“It was a shock, but she was not the strongest of women. She often fell sick. I think my father had the greatest shock because he hadn’t been around to witness the times she had been unwell. For him, she always put on a show of strength.”
“So you have been alone since then?”
“Yes, though I had the staff at the house and Father visited whenever he could.” She straightened, and he missed the feel of her sweet body tucked against his. “He did his best for me.”
“Many men would not have accepted you,” he agreed.
“Too many.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he studied her. Did losing her only companion at such a young age explain her tendency to express her opinions so strongly? She likely had no one to counsel her against speaking out so. Not that he minded. For the most part, at least. Occasionally, he thought, it might be nice to have a biddable mistress, but he doubted that would ever happen with Lilly.
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