Hannah's Duke: Regency Sexy Romance (The heir and a spare Book 4)

by Fiona Miers

  “Oh Lord, I do.”

  John lifted one of his hands and reached out to caress Hannah’s face. Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t fight him.

  John pulled further away so that he could properly look into Hannah’s face and watched as her pupils dilated and her eyes widened. Groaning, he captured her lips in a fierce kiss that was all about his need for her. There was no finesse in his technique tonight.

  He swept his tongue against Hannah’s lips and she opened to him. He groaned again and took full advantage of the invitation she was offering. Sliding both of his hands down to her bottom, he pulled her into him and devoured her mouth.

  Hannah ran her hands through his hair and gripped his head. She continued to kiss him back as her hands began to move. She ran her hands down John’s back and cupped his buttocks the way he cupped hers and a shiver of anticipation shot through him.

  “You are so beautiful,” John whispered as his lips traced a line down Hannah’s sweet, soft neck. He didn’t want to beg, but the words formed on their own. “Touch me, please.”

  ****

  It was the please that did it for Hannah. She believed him when he said that no other woman aroused him at the moment, and that was because she felt the same way. She had met, talked to and walked with countless gentlemen since her arrival in London.

  She wanted only John.

  Feeling bold, Hannah slipped her hands around to John’s maleness, eager to find out what pulsed beneath her hands.

  She slid one palm over the length, unable to hold the whole amount in one hand. Hannah gasped in shock at the size and hardness she felt. Could a piece of flesh really feel like that? Everywhere on her body was so soft.

  “Hannah…” John’s voice sounded strained.

  Then the next thing she knew, Hannah had been pulled down and around and she was suddenly sitting in John’s lap as he sat on the chaise.

  “I just want to touch you, please trust me,” John spoke into her ear as he lifted her skirts up with his free hand.

  Hannah glanced towards the locked door. The strange thing was, she didn’t really care what would happen to both of them if they were caught in here together. She had to know what all the fuss was about.

  She lost her nerve the moment John’s hand reached her inner thighs. Clamping her legs together, she stilled his hand where it was.

  “Are you sure you should be doing that?” Hannah asked, a moan escaping her throat when John lightly bit her ear and caused a shiver of sensation to course down her spine.

  “I shouldn’t, but I want to.”

  “Can I touch you too?” Hannah asked, her hands itching to reach back down where they’d been only moments before. The differences between their bodies interested her a lot and now that she finally had

  “Yes,” John groaned as he shuffled her further along his thighs, allowing a gap between their bodies now, and pushed her hand back to his groin.

  Now, what did she do with it?

  “What do I do?”

  John chuckled, sounding pleased by her question. “Press your palm along the length.”

  When Hannah rubbed her hand up and down the length John moaned out loud and the sound made her insides tighten and clench in a pleasurable way.

  “Yes, like that. Now open your legs and let me give you pleasure.”

  Hannah ducked her head into John’s neck so that he couldn’t see how embarrassed she was, and opened her legs for him.

  John moved his fingertips and gently grazed the crinkly hair at the apex of her thighs.

  “No undergarments?” John asked, sounded shocked.

  “I don’t like them,” Hannah admitted, pressing her hand along John’s length again. Was he disgusted by her unladylike habit?

  “Never wear them. I love that you are naked beneath all of these skirts.”

  He pressed his thumb onto an extra sensitive piece of flesh and Hannah shot up in his lap.

  “John!”

  “I know, kiss me again.”

  Deciding to trust the one with the experience, Hannah tipped up her head and offered her lips to him.

  John used his thumb to circle her flesh again and again. It was simply amazing, the sensations of pleasure that wove through her body with each touch. She would never have believed anything could feel so good. John then slipped his fingers back between her legs and spread the moisture that had accumulated there.

  “God, you’re wet.”

  Heated blood spread across her cheek as John nipped at her ear and throat in that beautifully passionate way he had.

  “Is that bad?” She asked, unsure if her body was doing what it was meant to be doing.

  John laughed again, the sound throaty and deep. “No. It means you want me to do this.”

  John pressed one long finger deep into the entrance of her body and Hannah screamed out as pleasure speared her insides.

  “Shh,” John murmured, capturing her mouth in another kiss.

  He added a second finger to the first one and Hannah moaned again as the thickness inside her doubled. How could such a thing feel so incredible?

  Then she realized that she had both hands around John’s neck again and she wasn’t giving him any of the pleasure that he was sharing with her.

  Another moan escaped her lips when he used both his fingers and his thumb on her, the combination both overwhelming and incredible in its pleasure. Tingles pulsed down her legs and added to the overall feelings building in her belly.

  She dropped her hand to where John was bulging against his evening breeches. She pressed her fingers against him and rubbed up and down. She attempted to use the same rhythm John used on her, getting faster in her strokes as his fingers worked faster on her.

  “Stop Hannah, please. I can’t finish in my breeches.”

  Hannah didn’t understand either part of that sentence. “I don’t want to stop, where else can you finish?’

  John groaned and pulled out his handkerchief. “Open the buttons and touch me properly.”

  Hannah swallowed as fear took over. She looked into the sweetest brown eyes she had ever seen and noticed that he wasn’t pushing her, or trying to take anything from her. He was pleasing her without taking her virtue.

  With shaking hands she undid the buttons and John sprung out. It was long and thick and came from a bed of hair darker than his head.

  Hannah looked up and blushed when she saw the hunger clearly written on John’s face.

  She leaned into him for a kiss as she reached in and grabbed him with her hand. He was warm and soft, yet hard all at once. His flesh leaped when she touched him, which made her grab him tighter.

  “Like this,” John whispered, wrapping his hand around hers and guiding Hannah’s hand in the movement that he wanted.

  She did as he told her and moments later, John was thrusting into her hand. Hannah felt a glow of pleasure at being able to please him, just before her own pleasure began to cloud her brain.

  John flicked his thumb over her sensitive flesh until she was arching her back, pressing his fingers into her canal until she wanted to scream.

  Hannah cried out when John sped up his movements and her whole body peaked in pleasure. She was suddenly shaking and burning as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her.

  “Oh God, yes, Hannah, yes.” John groaned as he shaking began to subside, and he wrapped his handkerchief around her hand and his staff. Hannah continued to stroke him as a wetness spurted all over her hands and the handkerchief.

  Hannah watched John as he threw back his head and groaned. His body shaking as hers had.

  John looked up into her eyes and Hannah couldn’t resist leaning forwards and giving him one more lingering kiss before she drew her hand away.

  John withdrew his hands too and thoughtfully pulled her skirts back down before attending to himself.

  Hannah slid off John’s lap to give him more room to clean himself and lay her head against the chaise. How could she have ever known such pleasure existed? No w
onder John was chased from pillar to post by married and widowed women. If you had a taste of such a thing, why would you ever want to stop?

  The thought was sobering and Hannah stood to inspect herself in the mirror. She looked flushed and her lips were swollen but overall she looked like herself. If only she felt like herself still.

  John finally finished and stood up, fixing his clothes and checking his appearance in a reflective glass in a cabinet.

  “That was truly wonderful Hannah, thank you.”

  He seemed sincere, but something had changed in his tone and she found that she lamented the loss of the heat and passion they’d just shared.

  “Thank you, John. I had no idea such things existed.”

  John smiled and stepped closer.

  “We will be missed, so I think I need to get back to the gentlemen. Do you think you can go back to the lady’s without raising too much suspicion?”

  She bit her lip. How long had they been gone? She supposed she could tell her cousin’s wife that she had unexpected monthly cramps or bleeding.

  “Yes, I think I can.”

  “Very good.”

  John held the door open for her and she crept up to the light shining into the room.

  There was no one in the hall.

  “All right, well. Goodnight John.”

  “Goodnight Hannah.”

  John’s beautiful lips quirked up in a smile and Hannah gathered her skirts, took a deep breath and walked out of the warm room where a man had shown her the greatest pleasure she’d ever known.

  And as she stepped back into the sitting room to apologise for being so tardy, she didn’t need to fake her tiredness or fatigue. Her head was spinning and her belly was cramping with the pleasure that had been given to her.

  After hearing that she wasn’t well, dear Charlotte excused them and they went straight home. As she lay in bed alone that night, her head was spinning with everything she’d experienced and now that she’d tasted the sweetness of John’s passion, she wanted more.

  Chapter 8.

  John stared at the carved wooden door in front of him. He’d seen this same townhouse a thousand times in the past ten years, and yet tonight it seemed unfamiliar. Foreign.

  A scream behind him startled him and he tugged on his jacket. He hated being in cheap side.

  He lifted his hand and knocked, the front door swinging open with a suddenness that spoke of Kate’s enthusiasm for him.

  “John.” Kate’s painted mouth curved up in invitation as she held open the door for him, clad in her sheer nightgown. One of the many things he’d bought her in the six months she’d been his mistress.

  “Kate. Good evening.” He stepped inside his townhouse and let her kiss him in greeting. Her lips were tacky and as he drew away, she closed the door behind them.

  He waited for the normal feelings of lust to flood over him. This woman was available, ready and willing. And technically, still in his employ.

  “Come this way.” She said with tones dripping in honey.

  She took his hand and led him to a bedroom they’d used often in the past six months. Despite the fact that she was meant to be moving out as soon as she found a new protector when he’d asked for a final night this evening when he’d contacted her a week ago, she’d accepted with alacrity. The girl was probably hoping he’d change his mind, keep her on longer. But that was not going to be the case.

  The way he was feeling, with lead in his gut and a sour taste in his mouth, she’d be lucky to get a final rise out of him.

  “Do you have brandy, Kate?”

  She dropped her soft coat to the ground, her brow furrowing. “I do, in the other room. Shall I get it?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  Her hair was lacklustre, her skin did not shine. Why was he suddenly noticing these things? He’d never worried about them before.

  She left and he tugged on his cravat, loosening the restrictive material and opening his shirt buttons.

  He needed this relief. Surely she was the best woman to come too? Or so he’d thought a week ago.

  However, last night that red headed American had changed everything. Hannah had given him a taste of her passion and she now slept many blocks away in the safety of Archie’s townhouse.

  Surely he should be slaking his lust with his mistress rather than fantasizing about a marriageable virgin? He’d been stupid to try such a thing. If he’d been caught, his life would have been destroyed.

  This was where he belonged. This was who he was.

  Kate re-entered the room and handed him a large glass of brandy.

  “Thank you.”

  He took it and drank half of it in one swallow, relishing the burn as it slid down his throat.

  He fell into a nearby chair and stared at the slight woman before him. She’d always been too thin for his particular tastes, but he’d never given it too much thought before tonight. Now he compared her to the perfection of Hannah’s strong, feminine body and his mistress was severely lacking.

  “Dance for me.”

  She nodded and gave him her most sultry smile, beginning to take her few garments off with slow, deliberate movements.

  Her hips tilted and rolled, his fingers pulled the material from her shoulders and her small breasts were available for his eyes.

  Nothing. No reaction at all.

  “Beautiful.” He choked out and drank the rest of the brandy, his already inebriated brain loving the new level of alcohol.

  What was wrong with him?

  Kate toyed with her nipples, drawing them into tight peaks in a pretty display, and yet he didn’t want to reach over and grab her.

  He truly didn’t.

  What had Hannah done to him? Where was his fire? His lust for women that was never quenched. Only a few weeks ago he was drowning in the heat of his hormones, and as he sat here staring at a half-naked woman, he may as well have been playing cards with his friends.

  “You can stop, Kate.”

  She frowned at him and pouted. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do this tonight.”

  He pulled himself to his feet, swaying as the alcohol coursed to his head.

  She pulled up her coverings and slid them back into place. He relaxed, relieved now that she was not expecting anything from him. He didn’t have to perform. He couldn’t.

  “I need to go. Do you need another week to collect your things and move out?”

  She stared at him, then glared with a heat he had rarely seen. “You still want me to leave? I thought this meant you still wanted me?”

  “No.” He shook his head sadly. Not sure where to go from here. He’d tried hard not to give his mistresses false hope and yet here he was, breaking his own rule.

  She scowled at him, turning her already plain features ugly. “So it really is true. That no woman ever lasts longer than six months with you, John? I thought that to be a myth.”

  He chuckled. Yep. That was him.

  “Sorry. But it’s correct. Six months is my maximum. I did tell you that at the start of our time together.”

  Maybe that was all it was. He was bored with her. As he had been with all the others.

  “I will send a final payment that should help you get set up in a new role.”

  “You’re a bastard, John.”

  He staggered to the side and half bowed to her. Yes, nothing beautiful about this one. Definitely not worth changing any of his habits for.

  “It’s been a pleasure knowing you too, Kate.”

  He let himself out of his house and took in deep breaths of fresh air.

  He was staying with his older brother this Season, having committed to spending more time at ton events.

  His older brother Edward had yet to produce an heir by his wife, Margaret. The pressure was slowly, and carefully being applied to his neck.

  That was another reason why he was not feeling himself at the moment.

  He wandered along the road, heading back towards his bro
ther’s house.

  He needed to get home and reassess what he was going to do with his life. He’d be thirty next year and he knew that his family’s pressure would increase. He had absolutely no need for a wife, nor a title, and yet as he continued down the cold, dark street, he could feel the walls of a cage closing in on him.