Evelyn glanced around the drawing room, ignoring the severe Chesworth men seemingly scowling down at her. She lifted her chin a little. Rupert had been a good man, but she’d wager he had caused his fair share of scandal before marrying her. He had certainly been a man of experience too. She wouldn’t be the first woman to be standing naked in front of the ancient portraits, and if her son took after the previous Chesworth men, she might not be the last, though she hoped he behaved as gentlemanly as his father had.
But, oh, how scandalous she felt. A thrum of excitement started low in her body and worked its way up to where his fingers met her skin. She hadn’t known how badly she’d needed this—to be touched, admired, scandalised. Since the death of her husband, she’d been yearning for thrills but hadn’t known how to reach for them.
Until Pierce.
Her breasts came free of the garment. Pierce kept the fabric tight around her arms and moved his hands around to cup her. He groaned; she moaned. A man’s fingers upon her nipples would always be so divine in comparison to her own. He might not be a hard-working man but his fingers were still rougher and warmer than hers. When he rolled her nipples into tighter peaks, she tilted her head back and rested it against him.
Hot breath fluttered across her cheek. He pushed down the petticoat and it fell in a whisper of fabric. Fingertips touched the waistband of her drawers. She swallowed as he traced the line around her bare back to her stomach. A brief moment of trepidation made her stomach muscles contract. The only other man to have seen her naked was Rupert, and she’d been slender as a girl. He understood that her body had carried two babies and that time was not always kind to a woman, but would Pierce?
She forgot her trepidation when his fingers caressed over the silk of her drawers to skim above her sex. A pounding ache started up. Besides, her body had done amazing things and the curves time had given her were desired by men. Evelyn had nothing of which to be ashamed.
One finger skimmed her juncture and dampness clung to the fabric. No doubt he felt it too. So sensitive was she that his one touch made her knees tremble.
However, the finger retreated and found the waistband of her drawers once more. Pierce pushed the fabric down her hips, leaving her in only stockings and slippers. She kicked those satin slippers off and kept her shoulders straight.
Pierce must have taken a step back as the heat of his body vanished. With a wicked smile, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Well, Cynfell, do you like what you see?”
He grinned like a man about to do something very sinful indeed. “I do.” Stepping forward again, he caressed her bottom, feeling the curve of her, squeezing and moulding her to his touch. “I never thought being abandoned on the side of the road would reap such rewards.”
Hands on her shoulders, he twisted her around. Heat warmed her cheeks, but she held firm. So scandalous, so exhilarating. He took his time raking his gaze over her breasts, her stomach, her silk-clad thighs and her quim. Lord have mercy on her, his gaze was all the seduction she needed. She was fairly certain he’d have no trouble taking her then and there, in spite of the years passed.
Pierce dropped to his knees and her grin expanded. “I like having you there, Cynfell.”
He lifted his gaze to hers and chuckled. “Don’t get used to it, Evelyn. I intend to have you on your knees many a day too.”
Evelyn ought to have been shocked by his words, or perhaps a little annoyed, but the thought of pleasuring him in such a way only made her weak with need. It left her with no doubt she’d made the right choice. Any other man might have been brought low by such an offer. She would have been left with a weak man at her beck and call when what she needed was a man like this—one who would test her, push her. There was no chance she’d have a single regret after her time with Pierce.
Using his thumb and forefinger, he took an inordinate amount of time to draw out the ribbon of her stockings. Her thighs shook. He pushed them down, one by one, pulled them off then stood. Admiration shone in his gaze.
“There. Now we are equal.”
“We are?”
“You have seen me in my entirety, and I have seen you.”
“And?”
Pierce gave her a lopsided smile. “I like what I see.”
She could swear he was teasing her. The brazenness of him. Here she was offering him a plentiful sum to clear his debts, and he was toying with her as though he had not a care in the world.
“Well, Cynfell, are you to prove yourself or not?”
“That, I can do, but I won’t take you.” He stepped forward and cupped her sex. “Not yet.”
Before she could open her mouth to protest or ask what game he was playing, he had thrust two fingers into her. Her body accepted the invasion with ease. She’d been ready for it since he’d kissed her. Ripples of sensation left her gasping within moments. A few swift strokes and he had her clutching his arms for fear of collapse. Some whispered words of her beauty made her head swim.
He increased the pace, pushing harder and faster into her. She could barely keep up. A thumb came to her nub and her body convulsed. Thrusting, circling, gripping her tight, he drew an orgasm from her like a musician drew a tune from an instrument. He played her like a maestro.
Evelyn released a cry, one that reached the high, gilded ceilings of the manor house. The sweet pleasure coursed through her in waves, ebbing and flowing from head to toe. Pierce gathered her to him while she came down to earth.
“What say you, Evelyn?” he murmured in her ear. “Am I up to the task or do you need the rest of the evening to make your decision?”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or to slap him for his brashness. Instead, she turned, snatched her stockings and placed herself on the chaise. As she slid them up her thighs, aware of the hard bulge pressing against his trousers, she lifted her gaze to his.
“One night. Then we’ll make our agreement official.”
Chapter Five
One night. Pierce eyed his reflection in the full length mirror on the large armoire and tugged down his waistcoat. He waved away the valet, paced to the window and back to the mirror. Anticipation burned bright. His fingers tingled as he recalled the feel of her hot body closing in about him. Evelyn Chesworth was a woman to be reckoned with—one who wouldn’t give in easily to a man. And she wanted him.
It had been a gamble to press her in the drawing room. Had he not sworn off gambling? Yet as much as he needed funds, his pride wouldn’t let him be some toy for her to pick up whenever she wished. Yes, he’d wanted to prove himself—to rise to the challenge, so to speak.
He smirked. That, he had certainly managed. However, there was a limit to how far a man could fall. Apparently Evelyn had found that. He had no objections to being her lover or even to receive some money in return for it.
Far from it, he’d have done it for free.
But circumstances meant he needed money—and fast. Three months would be long enough to keep away his creditors and he could be guaranteed some peace in the countryside. That said, he wouldn’t be some insipid lover, used, then thrown away. He’d give Evelyn the best three months of her life, and she’d be left without a doubt he was worth every penny. Then he could go away with a little of his pride intact.
Perhaps.
Evelyn was the kind of woman to bring a man to his knees. He hoped his were strong enough to remain firm.
Pierce would have to thank Giles next time he saw him. The man would be green with envy. Not only had he been rescued by a beautiful woman but she was offering him money in return for sex. Who in their right mind would say no? She had to be the most spectacular thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Curvaceous, brazen, utterly sensual. And the way she cried out...
He tugged on his necktie to straighten it and drew in a breath. If he wanted to go to dinner with a hard cock, he was going the right way about it. But, by God, he’d never heard anything like it. Evelyn was no prim miss, to be certain.
“Right then,” he told himself.
No putting it off. He had a performance to put on. He stepped into the long corridor and took a moment to find his bearings. The powder blue hallway led on seemingly forever, lined with gilded portraits and landscapes. The odd table and lamp broke it up and he grimaced. Even Lockwood Manor, the seat of his brother, wasn’t this big. Evelyn’s son was one rich boy.
Left. He turned. No. Right. He turned again. It was a crying shame but his sense of direction always had been terrible. If he’d have continued walking along that road the previous day, he’d have probably wandered all the way to Scotland before finding civilization.
Pierce straightened his shoulders in case he ran into a servant so he’d look like he knew what he was doing and finally found the main staircase leading down to the hall. As near as he could tell, Evelyn’s household comprised of only servants, gardeners and stable hands. There was no paid companion or other family members in residence. He gripped the brass banister and made his way down carpeted stairs. It was a wonder she hadn’t taken a lover sooner. She had implied she’d been considering it for a while but apparently none were up to the task.
Was that apprehension in his gut? Pierce smirked to himself. Not at all. Merely anticipation, was it not? He knew full well he could give Evelyn everything she needed. None of his previous conquests had any complaints and with the desire that burned so brightly between them, how could he fail?
Except he’d failed many times before. His gut had led him down this merry path many a time, leaving him in this destitute place. Perhaps he would do better not to take his success for granted.
“Cynfell.”
His gaze snapped to the woman waiting by the drawing room door. A vision in dark blue silk, she made him freeze on the final step. He curled his hand tight around the brass. He hardly recognised her. The gown cinched scandalously tight and dropped shockingly low, revealing two great swells of breasts. Her nipples appeared to be on the verge of escaping the tight bodice. It seemed she only wore a bustle and a thin petticoat as the length of the gown clung to her figure. So much for not being aroused during dinner...
And then there was her hair and make-up. She had it coiled artfully around her face, making her appear younger. Rouge and lipstick made her features bolder. He wouldn’t say it but she looked a little like a lady of the night.
He certainly couldn’t say he found it ridiculously appealing. Why that was, he didn’t know. The painted look of courtesans and whores never appealed before but on Evelyn there was something exotic and exciting about the look.
“Evelyn, you look...”
She waved a hand. “We are to dine out tonight, Cynfell.”
Her gloved hands clasped in front of her and he detected a slight tremble in them. Was she nervous?
“Indeed.”
“There is a house on the outskirts of Surrey—you may know it—where only the very privileged may go.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. Surely she couldn’t be speaking of Stourbridge House—otherwise known as the House of Vice? Politicians, wealthy titled gentleman and the richest merchants visited to gamble, liaise with mistresses and generally have a decadent time away from the prying eyes of London society.
“You know where I mean.”
“I hope I’m wrong,” he replied stiffly.
“Have you been there?”
Pierce took the final step down and strode over. “I’ve been to many places but Stourbridge isn’t one of them. Too rich even for my tastes.”
“I’ve procured us an invite.”
“And, pray tell, how you managed that within mere hours?”
She gave him a sly smile. “The invitation has been open for a while. I merely needed someone to take me.”
He fought the need to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. What had he let himself in for?
Evelyn offered her his arm. “Come then. The carriage is waiting.”
He looped her arm through his and kept back a groan. He’d pictured an intimate dinner followed by drinks in the drawing room. Maybe a night tour around the gardens then up to her bedroom. There, he’d show her what she was paying for. But apparently he was to play escort. Not what he had in mind.
Helping her into the carriage, he followed her in and shut the door. He tried not to grin as he recalled that his bare arse had been pressed against the same seats not so long ago and he’d had little idea he’d be a rich woman’s almost-lover a mere day after.
“What is it?” She smoothed her skirts and tugged her curls about her shoulders. “Why do you smile?”
“I was just considering what a drunken night can lead to.”
“And what can it lead to?”
“A beautiful woman, it seems.”
She smiled but he could tell she didn’t find any flattery in his words. Evelyn wouldn’t be easily swayed by simple words.
“I imagine many a drunken night has led you to a beautiful woman.”
“None quite like you, however.”
Her smile widened. “How do I differ?” She held up a finger. “I’m older, is that it?”
“You are,” he conceded, “but that is no bad thing. Few women are lucky enough to age as gracefully as you.”
“Oh dear me, Cynfell, if you expect me to be flattered by comparing me to some kind of fine wine or cheese, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
He chuckled. “Very well then. I shan’t tell you how your breasts are the most spectacular I’ve ever seen and how even now I’m imagining pressing them out of your bodice and taking them in my mouth. And, of course, I won’t even mention how hot your quim is. How no other woman could compare. How desperate I am for a taste of you.” Leaning back, he perfected an air of nonchalance. “No, I won’t tell you how the years have only done you a great favour.”
If the confines of the carriage weren’t so dark, he knew he’d have been able to see a stain on her cheeks. Unsettling Evelyn was beginning to be far too enjoyable. Perhaps because she had the ability to do the same. He had no doubt she’d fire back at him eventually.
Her skirts rustled as she shifted. He heard her exhale. If he hadn’t already been aroused at the mere sight of her, being in this small space with the promise of bedding her at the end of the evening would have been enough to make him as hard as stone. The air grew thick. He coughed.
“So...your son returns soon?”
“Yes.” He felt the thickness of the air ease at the change in topic. “He’ll be taking his place in the House of Lords when he does.”
“What of you?”
“I’ll continue aiding him in his duties. Samuel is a bright enough boy—man, I suppose—but it’s a lot for an eight and ten year old to take on.”
Pierce nodded. “My brother was young when he took on the title. It wasn’t easy. Frankly, it makes me grateful to be the fourth son.”
“No responsibility,” she agreed.
He lifted a shoulder. “From my experience, there are few men who can cope with that much responsibility and power. Julian had some tough years but seems to be settling into it now. I’m sure Samuel won’t struggle with your assistance.”
“Well, he is a little stubborn. No boy wants to listen to his mother.”
“I fear you only have yourself to blame there, Evelyn. He likely takes after you.”
“Am I stubborn?” She peered out of the window at the passing trees.
Dusk had fallen and only grey light highlighted the scenery. They drove through a village and lamps glowed in the small square windows of the cottages.
“You know full well you are.”
Evelyn turned her attention back to him. “I’m not sure you know me that well, Cynfell. Our acquaintance is only short.”
“Yes, but you are honest. Forthright. There’s no puzzle to your character.”
“As are you.”
Pierce lifted a shoulder. He supposed he was. What reason was there to hide the truth? Evelyn had come upon him at the lowest moment in his life. “It’s not as if I could hide much
from you.”
“No, indeed. Nor I you. But perhaps I should work on an air of mystery. A lady should never give away all her secrets.”
“What nonsense,” he scoffed. “A man would far rather a woman be forthright than play silly games.”
She tilted her head to eye him. “No games then? What a shame. I had many in mind for you.”
He chuckled low in this throat. She liked to get a rise from him but he wouldn’t bite. Games had taken up too much of his life recently and for the first time in his life, he had figured out when he would lose. It didn’t mean he’d surrendered. He’d merely put away his cards for the moment. Later, he’d show her what sort of games he could play and all of them would involve her body.
Pierce curled his fingers and concentrated on keeping his arousal in check. This journey was going to be a long one. In fact, the entire evening would be if he didn’t learn to control his imaginings.
They travelled at a brisk enough pace on the dark roads. Evelyn’s fine carriage made light work of the ruts in the road so that their journey to the outskirts of Surrey only took another forty-five minutes. Lamps lit the private road to the house. He’d seen photos of Stourbridge in the gossip rags and when the occasional scandal broke out.
Smaller than Lockwood or Fairchester, the Georgian house was square and ornately decorated at the front. A warm ambience spilled out onto the lawns as they drew up in front of it and he could hear music and laughing. When the door of the carriage opened, he latched a hand around Evelyn’s wrist before she moved.
“Are you sure about this?”
She nodded. “Perfectly.”
Resigned, he exited the vehicle and placed his hat on. Pierce offered her his arm and she at least took it. That was something, he supposed, but he feared greatly he wouldn’t be able to protect her in a place like this. Tales of the fights and sexual antics at Stourbridge were legendary. Every rake and debauched character longed to come to Stourbridge. He thought Jasper had visited once or twice but he’d not uttered a word about it. If his older brother wouldn’t mention it, God only knew what must happen behind the walls of the old house. Jasper was never known for his discretion.
The Cynfell Brothers Page 23
