by Tamara Gill
She grinned, brushing her lips against his. "But so very worth it." And now that she'd done this once, she would do it again. Something told her there was more to know and enjoy in a man's arms, and she couldn't wait to find out what.
The following evening Jasper stood beside Oglemoore and fought to keep his patience with his friend. The man was becoming a menace, and not only that, a gentleman who he doubted knew his own mind.
"I thought you were going to ask Lady Athol for her hand in marriage? You're now saying that you're unsure who you want to be your wife?"
Oglemoore shrugged, sipping his wine. "Lady Athol, rumor has it, has been seen taking the air in Hyde Park with Lord Dormer. You know the fellow, the one who wanted to bloody my nose back at Eton." He shook his head, his lips thinning into a displeased line. "I'm unsure what her feelings are toward me now that we're both back in London."
Jasper schooled his features and bit back the words of telling his friend that karma was an unfortunate mistress and one that Oglemoore had obviously suffered from. He'd played Olivia last Season, threw her aside for her friend, and now had the same happen to him. Jasper ought to feel sorry for him, but he could not. After treating Olivia with so little respect, he could not help but be glad Oglemoore had missed out on both the women.
"I think you should stop our game with Miss Quinton. That will allow me the opportunity to court her during the last weeks of the Season. I'm certain she will be amenable to my interest, and should I ask her, I think she will marry me."
Jasper massaged his temple, trying to stop the incessant ache that thumped there. "You no longer want me to distract Miss Quinton away from you as I have been these last few weeks. What if someone else catches your interest in town, and you throw her over yet again? I do not think you should court Miss Quinton a second time."
Oglemoore gaped at him, clearly affronted. "And whyever not? She is not engaged or attached. You do not see her in a romantic light. The only reason you speak to her at all is because of my bidding. Do not tell me you've grown a conscience since I asked you to help me. That is unlike you, Hamlyn."
It may have been what he was like before he'd grown to know Olivia, but the thought of her being hurt for a second time by Oglemoore would not do. He would not allow his friend to play Olivia the fool no matter how many years they had known each other.
"Miss Quinton deserves better than being your second or third choice. Move on and find another to marry."
Oglemoore frowned, sensing Jasper's ire, which was simmering to a boil. "I will not play her a fool again. I promise you that, my friend." Oglemoore clapped him on the back as if all were forgiven, and Hamlyn was merely playing a protective father. He was not. In no way would he allow Oglemoore to change his mind on a whim and think everything was perfectly well.
"I see Weston has arrived. I need to speak to him about his gelding he means to auction at Tattersalls. I may be interested in him if the price is right," Elliott said as he moved away.
Jasper watched as his friend moved off into the throng of guests. He narrowed his eyes, not caring for his words or his plans for Olivia. Jasper may have started out keeping Olivia distracted enough that she would not grow too upset about Oglemoore's attention toward her friend, but things had changed now. They were close, most certainly friends, even more than that.
He spied her across the room, smiling and chatting with the Duchess of Carlton. Oglemoore moved past her, certainly within her notice, and she did not glance his way or proceed to wish him a pleasant evening. Had Jasper been a betting man, he would have laid money she had not noticed his friend at all.
The thought pleased him, and he finished the last of his drink, a quiet calm settling over him that Olivia would not be so foolish as to allow Oglemoore another chance at winning her hand. Surely his time with her, even if she thought that time false due to their understanding, would make her see that not all men were the same. That there were men in the world who would like her for who she was, her kindness, sweet nature, pleasant self… Not simply because she was available, and it was time for the gentleman to choose a bride.
Olivia deserved to have a marriage of love. Anything less would be a waste of her life.
Later that night, he caught up to her as she was entering the supper room, thankfully on her own. He sidled up to her, dipping his head to ensure privacy. "Would you care to take supper with me, Miss Quinton?" he asked, reveling in the pleasure that bloomed on her handsome features.
"Of course," she gushed, coming to a stop behind the line of guests already waiting to choose their meal. "I did not know you were going to be here this evening. Did I not hear that you best Lord Lindhurst in a sparring match at Gentleman Jacksons, and he still has not forgiven you?"
Jasper laughed, remembering the day well. "Ladies are not supposed to know details such as those. Who told you?"
She shrugged, taking a plate from a footman and studying the selection of food laid out before them. "I forget who relayed the gossip, but he is, from what I understand, still quite put out. I'm surprised they allowed you entry."
"I'm the Duke of Hamlyn, there are few who would not admit me." Jasper picked up two crab cakes and a lobster tail. "He has asked for a rematch, and perhaps I shall let him win that bout, merely to keep the peace."
She turned with a plate laden with her selections. "That is very kind of you. I doubt I would be so charitable. I dislike losing as well, you know."
They made their way over to a table for two, seating themselves. "Is that why you asked me to help you with Oglemoore? Simply because you wanted revenge so desperately?"
She threw him a sheepish look. "In part, it was wrong of him to court me only to throw me aside when he deemed me not actually what he wanted. However, I do think that our ruse has paid off. He was questioning me at last night's ball, similarly to how he was toward me last year. I cannot help but think that Athol's disinterest in him since her return to town and your marked attentions toward me have reminded Oglemoore what he's thrown aside." She chuckled. “The poor man is wasting his time with me, I’m happy to report.”
Jasper chewed his lobster, taking his time to cool his annoyance at Oglemoore’s renewed attentions. "For what it is worth, I do believe you can do better than Oglemoore. He is my friend, yes, but even I am not blind to his faults. He should not have treated you the way he has. I'm sorry he hurt you."
A smile touched the corners of her lips. Her gaze bored into him, and he hoped it was interest for him he read in her eyes and not Oglemoore.
Heat licked his skin, and he had the overwhelming desire to reach out, touch her, anywhere, her hand, her cheek, a lock of hair, just so long as he was touching her.
"I no longer want Oglemoore, Jasper," she whispered, holding his gaze.
He took a calming breath, his heart pounding. What did that mean? "May I escort you home this evening?" To ask such a question was scandalous. He ought not, but nor did he want to leave her side. Jasper told himself it was to ensure she arrived home safely. She had no living parents and a questionable chaperone, so a gentleman ought to step up at times.
"That is kind of you, but you need not do that. I can catch a hackney home. It is not far in any case." She smiled, taking a sip of her champagne. "I could probably walk from here, all told."
He shook his head. "No, I could not allow that." Just the thought of her walking home sent a chill down his spine.
"When did you wish to depart?" she asked. "I am ready to leave whenever you are."
His body tightened at the thought of having her alone in his carriage. Five minutes or five hours, he would take whatever he could. "When you've finished your meal, we can leave. I'm at your service."
She raised her brows. "How delightful that sounds. I shall hold you to that, Your Grace."
He almost groaned. Oh, please do.
They finished their meal and separately made their goodbyes to their hosts, before coming together on the front steps of the London home. His black carriage, pulle
d by two gray mares, rolled to a stop not long after.
A footman opened the door, and Jasper helped her up into the carriage. He called out the address before joining her. He sat opposite, waiting for the carriage to lurch forward before closing the blinds. If he had minutes only, he wanted to make full use of them.
Her eyes glistened in the dark, and it was only every now and then when they passed a street lamp that he saw her pretty face. He untied the blinds, letting them down.
"Why the privacy? Are you planning something, Your Grace?"
He opened the small portal near the driver's chair and told his man to drive about Mayfair. "If I were," he said, turning back to face her, "would you think bad of me?"
She shook her head, a small curl bounced across her shoulder. "No," she whispered, her attention snapping to his lips. She bit her own, and his body roared with need. Although uncertain what was happening between them, the game they started to play had morphed into something so much different.
So much more.
Chapter 13
The carriage rumbled down the street, the driver taking pains not to take the corners too sharp. Olivia did not feel like herself. The look in Jasper's eyes left her feeling as if there was something in the air, something about to happen.
Between them.
For herself, she wanted Jasper to take her in his arms, to touch her, kiss her, be with her as he was the other night at the ball. His steely gaze did not shift from her person, and by the time he did speak, she was squirming on the leather squabs.
"Thank you for letting me take you home this evening, Olivia. I will admit to wanting to be alone with you all evening."
Olivia bit her lip, having watched him all evening, wanting to be alone just as they were now. Never had she wanted to be with anyone as much as she had wanted to be with Jasper. Oglemoore was nothing but a figment of her past imagination.
She patted the seat at her side and smiled as he came to sit beside her without a word. Her breathing increased, and she all but sizzled with a longing for him to touch her. Unable to wait a moment longer, she closed the space between them, taking his lips in a searing kiss and giving herself what she'd coveted since supper.
He kissed her back, clasping her face and tipping her head to deepen the kiss. His hands moved over her body, where she could not say until they clasped her breast. She sighed, loving his touch. He kneaded one, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
Olivia pushed herself into his hands. This was what it was like to be adored, to be wanted. She could get used to being with a man in such a way, and not just any man, but Jasper.
"You drive me to distraction," he gasped, kissing her jaw, her neck, swift nibbles toward her ear.
"I want to feel you. Let me touch you, Jasper," she whispered. He slipped the bodice of her gown down, taking a moment to admire her. His eyes burned a path across her body before he dipped his head and paid homage to one nipple.
His tongue was beyond intoxicating. He lathed, kissed, and teased her pebbled flesh, liquid heat pooling at her core.
"You want to touch me, Olivia? Be my guest," he replied, not moving from her breast.
She slipped her hands down his taut, muscular stomach, reveling in the feel of his perfect physique. Her hand dipped lower still. At the top of his breeches, the bulging shaft of his manhood, erect and ready, pressed against the pants.
He felt well endowed, not that she had anything to compare him to, but surely not many men stood to attention in such a way. Swallowing her nerves, she slid her hand over his length, basking in his moan when she squeezed him through the fabric.
He was wide and long and as hard as steel. "I want to see you."
He released her breast with a pop. Already she missed his kisses on her skin, but she wanted to know more about him, see what she could do to him to bring him pleasure. As much as he had brought to her only last evening.
Olivia pushed him back against the squabs, fixing her gown before turning her attention to the buttons at the front of his breeches. He sat back, kept his hands on the carriage seat, and allowed her to do as she willed.
With a patience she did not think herself capable of right at this moment, she worked the buttons free. Her eyes widened at the sight of his impressive manhood.
She ran her finger along his length, following the rigid, blue vein that stood out. "So soft." Olivia licked her lips as a bead of pearly white liquid formed at the end. Thoughts of what he would taste like bombarded her mind. Images of her taking his rigid length and slipping it into her mouth.
She wrapped her hand around his manhood and stroked. He moaned, closing his eyes, his hands fisting against the edge of the seat.
"You're killing me, Olivia," he groaned, his whole body taut and still.
Without a whit of trepidation, she bent over him, taking him in her mouth, wanting to taste him, feel and give him pleasure. One hand fisted in her hair, guiding, pulling her up only to push her back down.
She liked his command, and she enjoyed the power she had over him like this. He bucked under her, his quick intake of air bolstered her attempt to please him. To make love to him with her mouth.
He tasted of salt, of musk, and man, a delicious combination. He pumped into her, taking his pleasure, and she did not pull away. There was something uniquely erotic about giving another pleasure while taking none. Even though having Jasper in her mouth made her hot and needy.
"Enough," he gasped, pulling her from him. "My turn, my darling."
Somehow in the small space of the carriage, he carried her to the other seat, laying her down. He rucked up her dress to pool about her waist, and then he was on his knees before her, his eyes glowing with wicked intent.
Olivia gave herself over to the sensation of him kissing her there. She no longer cared what sounds she made, or Jasper’s moans that mingled with hers. He kissed her, flicked and teased her flesh until she was writhing in unabashed need. Oh, yes, this is what she wanted. This, his mouth, his delicious tongue that she was certain was magic.
It wasn't, of course, it was simply Jasper.
Jasper worked his cock with his hand as he fucked Olivia with his tongue. He could not get enough. He was close, so close, yet he would not spend until she found her own release.
He teased her nubbin, licked, and suckled her tiny erect button. Her fingers tightened on his hair. Pain tore through his skull, adding to the pleasure as the first contractions spasmed from her cunny.
Jasper let himself go, stroking his cock painfully fast. They came together, and he moaned against her flesh, licking and kissing her as she rode his face to fulfillment.
For a time, he stayed where he was, resting between her legs as he gathered his breath. Her wet, glistening cunny teased him still, and before he moved, he took one last opportunity to taste her sweet self.
She groaned, her fingers sliding over his face to tip up his jaw to look at her. "You're a wicked duke, Jasper."
He grinned, helping her to sit before he moved back to his seat. His cock, still semi-hard, took a little maneuvering to get back in his breeches. Buttoned back up, he looked across the carriage and met her interested gaze.
"I would like to see that as well one day."
"See what?" he asked, moving to sit beside her and pull her into his arms. She lay on his shoulder, the carriage lulling them both after their exertions.
"I would like to see you take yourself in hand and climax. Will you show me sometime?" she asked, looking up at him.
Her beauty, rather disheveled, cheeks rosy from their escapades made his chest ache. "I will show you, yes. So long as you do the same?"
Her eyes widened, and she sat up. "Is that possible? Can I find such pleasure myself?"
He groaned, the idea of her experimenting when she returned home almost too much for his hot-blooded self. "You can, of course. It is the same for men and women. You are not told these delights by your mother, but they are as true as you and I sitting here, spent and sated."
> A wicked glint entered her eyes, and he knew she would touch herself. Maybe not tonight, but soon. His cock hardened at the thought.
"I can agree to those terms. When can I see you again?" she asked, her hand idly running over his stomach, playing with his coat button.
"I'm to attend the Cavendish’s dinner tomorrow evening. Come to my home under cover of darkness. I can meet you at the mews if you prefer?"
Olivia took only moments to think over his words before she nodded, resting back in the crook of his arm. "I will join you at midnight."
He kissed the top of her head, the hours until he saw her again already too far away. "I look forward to your company."
"As I, you," she replied. Her response ought to scare him, but it did not. If anything, it hammered home just how much she'd come to mean to him. How much he longed to be in her company and no one else's. Their game's stakes had changed, heightened, and he was powerless to stop it and nor did he wish to.
That, however, did give him pause. What did that mean, and where would this newfound obsession for them both lead? Jasper adjusted his hold on her. He supposed they would find out, and soon enough. Tomorrow night, in fact.
Chapter 14
The following evening Olivia snuck out of her townhouse and made her way on foot to Jasper's home. She turned down the darkened alley beside his house, seeing the lights of the mews at the back of the estate. A shadowy figure of a man waited near the garden gate, and her steps slowed as she tried to make him out.
Trepidation marred her every step with the knowledge of what they would do this evening. Her being at the duke's home meant one thing and one thing only. When he had asked her to come, Olivia knew what he was asking of her, and she was powerless to say no.
She wanted to be with him in all ways. To have him make love to her, take her and make her his, even if for only one night. Although she was unaware of what her being here meant regarding their future, she did know she would never regret her choice.
