A Wicked Way to Win an Earl

by Anna Bradley

  When she did wake an hour or so later, it was to find Alec lying on his side with her head pillowed on his muscular bicep. He gazed at her, his dark eyes dancing wickedly. “You talk in your sleep, you know.” He gave her a sly grin as he played with a lock of her hair.

  “Oh, no.” Delia hid her face in his arm. “Not again.” Lily was forever poking fun at her for it.

  “There’s no reason to hide.” Alec took her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his. “You didn’t say anything too incriminating. I couldn’t sleep with all that mumbling going on, though, so I’m afraid I heard every word.”

  Delia was dying to know what he’d heard, but he looked so pleased with himself, she was afraid to ask. “Just like my mother. Even in my sleep I can’t hold my tongue.”

  Alec lay next to her. He stroked his fingers lightly along her jaw and traced her cheekbones, his fingers drifting across her face as if he were memorizing it. “Are you very much like your mother? I don’t mean the way you look.” He smiled faintly. “Obviously, exceptional beauty runs in the family.”

  “Exceptionally sharp tongues, too,” Delia said, even as she blushed with pleasure at his compliment. “I inherited that from her. I do think that trait skipped a few of my sisters, though. Lily and my sister Iris are much more even-tempered, like my father was.”

  Delia reached up to sweep Alec’s dark hair out of his eyes. It was strange, but she didn’t mind speaking of her parents with him now. Since their deaths, any mention of them had left her feeling as though she would suffocate with grief, but now she wanted to talk to him about everything.

  Alec stroked a warm hand up and down her spine. “You admired her. I can hear it in your voice.”

  She smiled. “Oh, I did. Very much. I’d like to believe I’m like her. She was . . .” Delia paused, trying to think of a way to put it into words. “She was different. She wasn’t afraid of anything, and it was something special to be loved by her, because she loved with her whole heart.”

  She rolled over on her side and propped her head in her palm. “What was your father like, Alec?”

  Alec had been lying on his side facing her, but at this he rolled over onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes. Delia waited. She’d just decided he wasn’t going to answer her at all when he said, “He was cold and selfish, utterly controlling. Manipulative. Nasty temper, too. You can’t imagine—”

  He stopped speaking and for a long time he didn’t say anything else, just stared silently at the ceiling, his body rigid. “You can’t imagine what it was like living with him when we were children. Robyn and I got the brunt of it, though I doubt it was pleasant for Eleanor and Charlotte, either. He ignored them as if they didn’t matter at all.”

  “How awful,” Delia whispered. She said nothing more, but waited for him to continue.

  “Sometimes I think I’m just like him.” The tension suddenly drained from Alec’s body then, as if it had taken all of his energy to hold that secret inside, and now that he’d spoken it aloud, he was finally able to breathe. “I know Robyn thinks so.”

  Delia felt her own body go rigid with the injustice of it. The old earl had left such a deep and terrible mark on Alec, one he’d carried alone for such a long time. Well, not anymore. She’d likely never see Alec again after today, but at least she could tell him how she felt and what she saw when she looked at him. She could do that much for him.

  She shifted until she lay on top of him, and carefully moved his arm away from his face. He stared up at her, expressionless. “But you’re not, Alec.” Her eyes held his. “To care about your family and try to protect them isn’t cold or selfish. It’s anything but that. Robyn might not understand it right now, but you’re nothing like your father was. Nothing at all.”

  Alec was still underneath her, his eyes searching her face. “I might have been.” A small smile lifted one corner of his mouth, and he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “But perhaps there is hope for me yet.”

  Delia’s foolish heart leapt in her chest. She knew there was no hope for her, no hope of a life with Alec. Not with the shameful history between their families. He might believe he cared for her now, but he’d grow to resent her when the ton turned their backs on him and his family. No one had informed her thoughtless heart of this, though, and it continued to thud hopefully.

  She didn’t say any of this to Alec. Instead she said the first thing that came into her head. “Alec? What did I really say in my sleep?”

  He moved under her so she could feel the weight of his hard cock against her thigh. “You cried out for me. You begged me to touch you.” His voice became low and husky with mounting desire. “You told me you wanted me again. Do you, Delia?”

  Delia stared down at him, transfixed by his smoky voice and the hard, incredibly male body that now arched beneath her, and she knew she’d always want him. “Yes. I want you, Alec.”

  She placed her hands against his chest and let them rest there for a moment, as if she were touching his beating heart, and then she caressed his arms and shoulders in long, slow, sweeping strokes.

  Delia ran her hands across his bare torso, curious about the layers of muscles under all that sleek bronzed skin. She’d never seen a man naked before, but she was quite sure most of them didn’t look like Alec. She thought about the first time she’d seen him, with his shirt open, his throat and part of his chest bare. She’d been shocked, and she’d have died before she admitted to it, but even then she’d wanted him.

  She raked her fingers through the crisp dark hair on his chest, then shyly circled one of his nipples with a fingertip. Alec drew a sharp breath and Delia hesitated. “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” Alec said huskily, but he closed his eyes as if he were in pain. Curious, she brushed her fingertips across his other nipple. He groaned and his chest heaved as his breathing quickened.

  Her palm slipped lower to trace the ridges of his abdomen, but she jerked it away when she felt his muscles tense under her hand. At once Alec took her hand in his and placed it back on his body, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “Don’t stop now.”

  Delia cautiously dipped her fingers back into the grooves of his stomach muscles. “Your body is so hard.”

  Alec made a choked sound, something between a laugh and a moan. “Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

  “You have the most alluring trail of hair that begins just here,” Delia murmured dreamily, brushing her fingers under his belly button. “It goes all the way down to here”—she followed the trail—“and then disappears”—she drew the blanket down slowly—“under here.”

  Alec shuddered with pleasure under her seeking fingers. When she drew the blanket slowly over his hard cock, he arched convulsively, and his head tipped back against the pillow.

  “Oh, my, Alec,” Delia breathed. She paused for a heartbeat and then stroked one tentative finger against his shaft.

  “Yes.” Alec raised his hips toward her hand.

  “I don’t know what to do.” She desperately wanted to touch him, to learn this most male part of him, but she didn’t want to hurt him, and he looked like he was in agony.

  “Touch me.” Alec took her hand in his and pressed it firmly against him and began to move it, showing her how to stroke him. “Yes,” he groaned when Delia continued the caress after he removed his hand. “Just like that, love.”

  He was soft and hard at once. The skin of his shaft was thin and silky, but underneath the fine skin he was almost impossibly hard, and so hot. He pulsed and throbbed in her hand. Delia tightened her grip and stroked just a little harder and Alec gasped. His hips jerked sharply upward and he began to thrust into her hand in a subtle, rhythmic motion.

  Delia was stunned she could find his pleasure in her touch so arousing. She watched him, transfixed, as he writhed under her hands. On impulse she leaned down and licked one of his nipples.

 
“Ah, God, Delia,” Alec cried out.

  He reached out and grasped her wrist to halt the stroking motion of her hand. “Stop, love. Stop, or this will be over before it begins.”

  He grasped her around the waist and rolled over so she was sprawled under him with his hips fit snugly between her thighs. She could feel the hard length of him press into her belly. She lifted herself against him and wrapped her legs around his hips with a breathless sigh, eager to feel him move inside her again.

  But Alec had other ideas. He slid his arms under her knees to unclasp her legs, keeping her thighs open to him as he slid down her body, tasting her skin. His lips seemed to be on her everywhere at once, trailing hot kisses from her neck to the base of her throat before his mouth closed over the engorged tip of her breast and sucked hard, licking and teasing her nipple.

  He nipped lightly against her lower belly, and it dawned on Delia he was still descending, his mouth drawing ever closer to the aching spot between her open legs. Shock penetrated the deep haze of desire that engulfed her. “No, Alec!” She struggled to sit up and close her legs.

  Alec’s hands tightened on her thighs. “Yes, Delia,” he hissed softly, holding her open to him. “It’s all right.” He pressed his hot mouth against the soft skin at the crease of her thigh. “Shhhh,” he crooned. “I just want to taste you, love . . . have to taste you . . .”

  Then his tongue was between her legs, stroking insistently, and Delia’s protest died on her lips. “Alec,” she moaned, all rational thought fleeing as her entire being focused on the tiny bud of flesh that throbbed under his lashing tongue.

  “So sweet,” he murmured. “Just like honey.”

  He brushed his tongue against her slick flesh in slow, lazy, maddening circles. Delia clutched at his hair and arched up to meet his mouth. “Please,” she gasped, not even sure what she begged for.

  But Alec knew. A low, wicked chuckle escaped him. “Do you want more, love?” He teased her lightly with the tip of his tongue.

  “Yes. Yes.” Her fingers tightened desperately in his hair.

  He pressed her thighs farther apart, devouring her, his strong, deft tongue plunging into her and stroking hard against her wet pink flesh. She rose up to meet his every caress, one hand against her mouth to muffle her cries, the other flung above her head while he worked her. His expert, relentless tongue drove her higher and higher until at last he closed his lips around the tender bud and sucked at her, and she shuddered in his arms as wave after wave of ecstasy swept through her.

  For long moments afterward Delia lay still, breathless and trembling. Alec wrapped his arms around her hips and rested his head against her, holding her and pressing gentle kisses against her thighs and belly. When her breath became even and she’d gone limp against him, Alec moved back up her body and rolled them, so she lay on top of him. He closed his eyes, as if savoring the feel of her weight on him.

  “Straddle me,” he murmured after a moment. He clasped her shoulders and pushed her gently back so she sat on top of him instead of lying down.

  Delia’s face flamed. It was silly of her to be embarrassed now, after he’d seen and touched and even tasted every inch of her body, but . . .

  “It’s all right. I want to see your face when I touch you. I want to watch you come. You’re so beautiful, Delia.” He looked up at her, his lids gone heavy over glittering black eyes. His cock pressed insistently against her bottom, so she tightened her knees around his hips and eased backward, moving her body instinctively until the hard length of him rested between her legs, trapped between her warm cleft and his abdomen.

  “Delia.” Alec jerked his hips helplessly, as if his body was no longer under his control. He laid his hands on her thighs and began to caress them, his warm palms stroking her rhythmically. Then he closed his hands firmly around her waist. “Take me inside you,” he whispered. He lifted her with strong hands so she was suspended slightly above him.

  Delia hesitated. “I don’t know how . . .”

  Alec was shuddering now, as if he were crazed with the need to be inside her. “Come up on your knees.” He kept his hands on her waist, steadying her while she rose to her knees. “That’s it, love,” he said when she supported herself above him. Then he took one of her hands, placed it on his stiff cock, and guided it so the head slipped inside her dewy folds. “God, yes.” He closed his eyes briefly and arched his back. “Now take me all the way inside.”

  Delia placed her hands flat against Alec’s chest to steady herself and began to lower her body. “Oh.” She slid down onto him slowly, savoring every inch of his hard length as he entered her, amazed at the way her body stretched to take him inside.

  “Ah, Delia, you feel incredible.” He gave one quick, involuntary thrust beneath her, but then he took a deep, shaky breath and his hips stilled. His skin became slick with sweat and his neck muscles corded with strain, but he remained motionless beneath her. “Take all the time you need, love.”

  Delia felt a surge of pure feminine triumph as he panted beneath her, struggling to control himself as she fed him slowly the rest of the way inside her body. When he was buried deep inside her, she went still, watching him with half-closed eyes as he fought to keep from surging against her. Oh, it was wicked to tease him, wicked to be so terribly excited by her power over him, and yet, and yet . . . “Tell me what you want, Alec,” she whispered, running a finger around one of his nipples.

  Alec made a strangled sound in his throat, half laugh, half groan. “Tease. You know exactly what I want.” He grasped her waist and lifted her above him until only the head of his cock remained in her snug passage; then he pulled her back down onto him just as he thrust upward with his hips. His length surged into her, quick and hard, making her gasp. Again and again he thrust into her, setting a powerful rhythm she followed instinctively, riding down on him as he drove his hips upward against her. Delia closed her knees tightly around his waist, urging him to go faster, to plunge deeper.

  “Jesus. Delia.” He gasped, arching his back. He parted her folds to tease at her delicate pink bud with his long, knowing fingers.

  Delia felt the elusive bliss slide closer, and she knew she’d come for him again. “Ah, ah, ah,” she cried, writhing on him.

  “Come for me, Delia,” Alec demanded breathlessly, his hips never ceasing their rhythm.

  The waves of pleasure crashed over her again and again and she lost herself in them, arching and throwing her head back. Long tendrils of her hair brushed against Alec’s thighs and the light caress made him wild. He thrust fiercely into her again, and then again. A harsh groan broke from his lips and his hands closed hard around her thighs as his release took him, his powerful body shuddering beneath her.

  Gradually their breathing slowed. Delia stared down at Alec, dazed, stunned into silence by the intensity of their lovemaking. He didn’t say a word, either, but gazed back up at her. She couldn’t quite read his expression, but his dark eyes were so soft and warm, she was overwhelmed by an absurd urge to cry. She looked away and collapsed on top of him and pressed her face into his neck, her body boneless and slack.

  Alec closed his arms around her. He lifted her carefully and settled her against his side, one hand easing her head to his chest. Delia’s heavy eyelids closed.

  When she awoke, she had no idea how long she’d slept, but the fire had died down and the first faintest fingers of dawn had appeared in the night sky. Alec’s body was warm and solid next to hers, his heartbeat reassuring in her ear. Delia remained as perfectly still as she could and closed her eyes tightly. If she didn’t move and didn’t open her eyes, maybe she could hold on to this moment a little longer.

  But then Alec stirred beside her, and Delia’s heart sank. She couldn’t stop the sun from rising, or stop time, or put off the inevitable any longer. Alec would leave for London this morning, and she’d leave for Surrey, and the memory of this single glorious night with hi
m would have to last her a lifetime.

  “Shall we stay here all day?” Alec nibbled her neck, then leaned over and captured her lips with his in a brief kiss. “Let’s order a bath,” he murmured coaxingly, his lips against her ear.

  Delia shivered. “We can’t, Alec. What if someone finds us here? Lily will be looking for me.” She raised herself onto her elbow, gazed down at him, and felt her heart constrict in her chest. She pressed her forehead to his and forced a smile. “No. You are for London, and I’m—”

  “Damn London,” Alec interrupted, grinning up at her. “I’ve never felt less like going there. It’s dirty and crowded.” He nuzzled against her. The dark beard sprouting on his face tickled her neck. “You’re soft and warm, and you smell delicious.”

  Delia giggled. “You’re the Earl of Carlisle.” She poked him lightly in the chest with one finger. “The Earl of Carlisle is far too important to linger in bed all day.”

  Alec captured her hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of her finger. “Is he? Very well, then. But earl or not, nothing could persuade me to leave here if I didn’t know I would be with you again in a matter of hours at the London town house.”

  Delia stared at him, speechless. Of course. He didn’t realize she’d finalized her plans to leave for Surrey. He must think she’d decided to accompany the family to London this morning. She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, but then closed it again.

  Wasn’t it better this way? Better if he didn’t know? She didn’t want to spoil these last precious moments with him, not after what they’d shared last night and this morning. She wanted to remember him as he was now, with his mischievous grin and his sleep-tousled hair and his warm, hard body wrapped around hers.

  “Delia?” Alec looked into her eyes and his smile faded a little. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s just . . .” She cupped his face in her hand and stroked her thumb across his bristly cheekbone, committing the feel of his skin to memory. “I’ll miss you.”

  “You won’t have time to miss me, love. I’ll make sure of it.” He turned his face and pressed a hard kiss into the center of her palm. But he must have seen something in her eyes still, for he frowned and his brows drew together. “You trust me, don’t you, Delia?”