Romancing the Earl (32 page)

Sitting here talking with him in the moonlight, naked, having just engaged in intercourse . . . Any other young woman would be horrified. But then any other young woman wouldn’t have done it. Nor would they be contemplating doing it again. She tried not to stare at his chest, so broad and superbly carved. She longed to run her hands over him as he’d done her, to learn the planes of his body so that she might commit him to memory.

“What about . . . doing it again?” she asked. “I was surprised to find satisfaction twice so quickly. Is it the same for you?”

“Not quite. I need a little respite between.”

“How much?”

He laughed and she loved the sound, wished he did it more. Lines crinkled around his eyes. He looked younger, more relaxed. Indeed, she’d never seen him look this at ease.

She turned in the bed and scooted next to him against the wall, crossing her ankles beneath the coverlet. Her feet dangled over the edge of the bed, though not quite as far as his did, of course.

“Why are you so against marriage?” She hadn’t intended to ask, but this was the most intimate they would ever be. And she wanted to know. In truth, she wanted to know everything about him, but he was so frightfully secretive. “I know you’d rather keep it to yourself, but we’ve agreed to keep tonight inviolate, so if you’d care to unburden yourself, I’d like to listen.”

He glanced down at her before looking toward the window with a pensive air. “I don’t know anyone who is happily married. It seems a waste of time and one’s energy.”

Cate thought of her parents, who were insanely happy. Their love was not only palpable; it was infectious. “Was your parents’ marriage one of obligation?”

“I’m not entirely certain, but I know my father loved my mother once.”

“She didn’t love him?”

He shrugged and the atmosphere turned cool. “I don’t believe she loves anyone. Maybe my brother.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. And it also doesn’t matter. She’s scarcely a part of my life.”

“Few people are,” she said softly, beginning to understand the lonely boy he must have been, the lonely man he’d grown into. “Some marriages are successful. My parents are happy.”

“Most are not. Look at your cousin Stratton and his wife.” His features darkened, and she could tell he regretted bringing them up. It led to thoughts of Septon, which had to remind Elijah of his potential involvement in Matthew’s death—
if
Septon was a member of the Order of the Round Table.

“I don’t know that I agree with your assessment that ‘most’ are failures, but, as you say, it doesn’t signify. It only matters that
your
marriage is successful.”

He looked at her askance, determination lighting his eyes. “I am not, nor will I ever be, married.”

“So you keep saying,” she murmured. She turned toward him and tentatively touched his chest. He drew a breath, just slightly sharper than a normal intake. She flattened her palm against him, felt his heart beating. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind if you meet the right woman.”

“I might ask why a woman like you, one who has no inclination for marriage either, is so interested in my marital plans.”

Why was she? Unlike him, she hadn’t decided that she would
never
marry, just that she needn’t and that it was highly unlikely. Had she unconsciously decided that marrying him would be acceptable? She entertained the thought—being his countess, sharing his life, his bed . . .
 

Sharing
. That was the word that gave her pause. It was why marriage in theory didn’t appeal to her—because in most cases there was no sharing. Her parents’ marriage was not the norm, and Elijah had given her no reason to think he would be like her father. He’d already tried to curb her activities on more than one occasion, and that was enough for her to acknowledge he wasn’t the man for her. And she would probably never meet one who was.

“You look as though you’re trying to solve the problems of the world,” he said.

She blinked at him. “No. Just thinking about what you said. You’re correct. I have no inclination for marriage. I do, however, have an inclination for you right now.” If she was only to have one night with him, she wanted to make it count.

She pulled him down for a kiss, splaying her hand over his chest and digging her fingers into his flesh. Moving her hand up, she found his nipple and grazed her fingers over the tip. He angled his head and speared into her mouth, his hand tangling in her hair as he held her close.

She pulled away from him and moved her attention to his chest. She traced her palm over his muscles, reveling in his hardness. Were men as sensitive to touch as women? She plucked at his nipple, then leaned over to lick it.

He fisted her hair, holding her to him. Then he dragged her onto his lap. She turned, facing him, and kissed a path to his other nipple before using her teeth to score his flesh.

He sucked in a sharp breath as his hand found her breast and tweaked her nipple. He pinched it firmly, then drew it out before letting go and starting over again.

She trailed her mouth up his collarbone to his neck, licking and sucking his flesh. He pushed the coverlet away and situated her on her knees, straddling him. His hands skimmed down her sides and settled on her thighs, massaging her flesh as she kissed the underside of his jaw. He’d shaved before dinner, and his flesh was smooth with a faint scent of the soap he’d used.

Whatever time he’d required to restore himself had elapsed. His cock rose between her legs, rubbing against her and firing her desire. She pushed down, grinding her flesh against his. He lifted slightly, meeting her, teasing her.

She widened her legs and rocked her hips. His cock slid up against her clitoris, jolting her with sensation, then back along her sex, taunting her with the promise of what was to come.

She cupped his neck and kissed him. All the while, she rotated against him, working herself into a fevered state of need. His fingers dug into her thighs, guided her to increase her speed.

She moved faster, desperate to have him inside of her. She broke the kiss as she reached down and stroked his cock.

“Cate.” He sounded strained. “It’s too soon.”

“Not for me.” She felt moisture at his tip and her need rose even higher. “I want you inside me again.”

He groaned, his hands moving up to her hips and tightening around her flesh. He held her up as she guided him to her opening. Sliding him in wasn’t as easy as she’d thought. He wetted his fingers on his tongue and stroked her opening. He paid special attention to her clitoris, coaxing and arousing her until she began to climb. His finger pushed inside, stretching her, pleasuring her. Then his cock was there instead and he slid into her with a sure, swift stroke.

“Cate.” His hand cradled the side of her neck, pushed the mass of her hair back over her shoulder and tucked it behind her ear. “You can control this. Ride me. If you want.”

She did. She rose, pulling herself almost completely off his shaft, then sank down again. The sensation of him filling her was so spectacular. White lights danced behind her eyes. She opened them, wanting to see him as she moved over him.
Ride me,
he’d said.

She lifted again and pushed down even more swiftly. She ground her hips into his, loving the feel of him against her and inside of her. He was everywhere she wanted him to be. His head tipped down and took her breast into his mouth. He nipped and licked at her, one hand holding the back of her neck, the other gripping her hip as she pleasured herself—and hopefully him.

Pressure built in her core as she moved faster and faster. She tried to establish a rhythm, but it was so hard with what he was doing to her breasts and the pleasure cresting within her.

His hips came up, helping her. Their bodies came together in a frenzied dance, but then he gripped her waist and held her still. He pulled her up and then pushed her down again, slowing the pace for several agonizing moments.

“Elijah,” she breathed, knowing her orgasm was so close, but also realizing he was keeping it from her.

“Just wait.” He continued his careful assault, moving her slowly, but oh so blissfully. He set a new rhythm where she rocked up and down, like a boat bobbing on the sea. “You are so beautiful.” He kissed her throat, laving her flesh as he drove up into her—relentless, but with such measured care.

She didn’t know how long she floated, with her body stretched tight in the space between immense pleasure and profound satisfaction. Then he stroked her clitoris, pressing hard against her, and everything shattered. Animal sounds came from her throat, but she was powerless to stop herself. Her body was no longer her own—she was wholly, completely, and rapturously at his mercy.

He pulled her completely off him then and roughly set her aside. Damn, she’d almost forgotten he had to leave her. She looked over at him, his hand stroking along his cock. She added hers, taking over for him, sliding her fingers over him from base to tip. She licked her lips, ready to take him in her mouth, but liquid spurted forth and he cried out. “Cate!”

She worked her hand harder, pulling everything from him that he could give. His hips moved off the bed as he stroked into her hand, greedily taking what she offered.

When it seemed he was finished, she slowed her movements. He slumped back and slid down the wall. She pulled him over and guided him to fall onto her pillow. He closed his eyes. She ought to clean them up, but she was suddenly so tired.

She curled next to him, her arm slung over his hips. He turned his head and kissed her hairline. “Cate.” He said her name so softly, she almost didn’t hear him. What was unmistakable, however, was the note of longing in his voice.

Cate fell asleep smiling.

Chapter Seventeen

E
lijah floated in a dream. Cate looked up at him with her seductive eyes just before her head bent over his cock. Her mouth was hot and wet and so tight around him. Her hand clasped his base and held him as her lips moved over him.

“Stroke it.” He moved her hand up as she rose, showing her what to do. God, she was heaven on earth.

She increased her speed, sucking him to the back of her mouth so that he grazed the top of her throat. Her fingers and tongue worked him with an expertise that blew his mind into a thousand pieces. He plunged his hands into her hair and thrust into her mouth. His balls tightened, signaling the onslaught of his orgasm. He groaned as he came, his seed spurting into her mouth. He fell back against the mattress as the shockwaves crashed over him.

Shit.
This was a dream. But he was next to Cate. Had he just embarrassed himself? His eyes flew open, he saw her crouched over him, realized it
wasn’t
a dream.

“Jesus, Cate.” He swung his legs from under her and sat up on the edge of the bed. Early morning light filled the room, and he blinked against the intrusion.

She sat up and looked at him quizzically, her hair a tangled, ebony mass. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you just . . . ?” What a ridiculous question. Of course she had. He had.
They
had. He’d meant to satisfy her curiosity last night. And maybe his own lust. Definitely his own lust. He was a beast.
 

“Are you angry?” She tipped her head to the side, looking more curious than anything else. “I thought you would like that.”

“No. I mean, yes. I do like that. Did like that.” Hell, he wasn’t making any sense. “That is actually one of my favorite activities. No, I’m not angry. Just surprised.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “You did seem to enjoy it.”

More than he ever had in his life. “You were quite good at it.”

“Well, you did guide me, so I’m glad I was a quick study. But then I always have been.”

All of it had been real. Even his telling her what to do. He massaged his forehead, certain he’d never in a thousand lifetimes be able to banish the memory of her mouth and hands pleasuring him to within an inch of his life.

Yes, she’d been an astonishingly quick study. Last night had exceeded every fantasy he’d ever had—and not just about her. But now it was over. He’d said one night and that come morning, they wouldn’t speak of it again.

Good thing he didn’t plan on talking.

He tugged her against him and kissed her, sweeping her hair from her face and pulling it down her back. He kissed her like it was the last time, because it probably was. Turning, he pressed her down onto the bed and shifted himself over her.