The Governess Club: Louisa (15 page)

He scratched his freshly shaven cheek. “I don’t think I’ve been called a galoot since I grew a foot in one week.”

She huffed, chin still high in the air. “I can’t imagine why not. You can be exceptionally obtuse.”

John couldn’t help himself. He walked over to her, a smile playing at his lips, eyes roaming over her still flushed face. He stopped when he was more than close enough to touch her, awareness of her prickling along his skin. “Say it again,” he murmured.

“What,
galoot
?”

He gave a mock shudder. “Oh yes, again.”

A smile tugged her lips. “You are being ridiculous.”

“Because I am a—” he prompted.

“A big galoot.”

He took a long breath through his nose and fluttered his eyes, smiling at her. “You certainly know how to sweet-talk a man, kitten.”

“You—”

“Big galoot,” he finished and put his hands on her waist to pull her to him. Once her body was flush with his, he lowered his head and kissed her.

He had spent a week studying her body, two months before that studying her personality. He was still learning the nuances of her pleasure, the softness of her skin, the valleys and slopes of her body, and hoped he would be allowed to explore them for the rest of his life. He knew that she was a fighter, one for whom control was important, even as she was trembling with ecstasy. So her initial reluctance to his kiss didn’t surprise or discourage him, but made the moment her body sighed into his all the more sweet.

Her hands landed on his chest, sliding up to his shoulders and down to clutch his biceps, pulling herself even closer to him, his legs pushing into her skirts. Louisa felt her breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples hardening at the feel of his heat through the fabric of her clothing. She opened her mouth, welcomed in his tongue and met it with her own, the feel of his beard against her chin sending swirls of desire down to her stomach.

How could it be that her head still spun after a week of enjoying his kisses? How could it be that with each one her desire for him grew? A lust, a need was growing inside her to clamber into his skin and burrow herself as deep as she could inside him, making them one. This took her beyond her experience, as her footmen had been short-lived affairs, a hot lust that burned out rapidly and was easily dismissed unless deliberately brought to mind. With John Taylor she found herself watching him more and more during the day, leaving the safe confines of the office more and more just to be around him, reliving the moments in which he touched her, kissed her, made her laugh.

He had become an obsession, a flame she could not keep herself away from.

John moved his kiss down her neck, paying homage to her beating pulse, and she angled her head to give him more access. The tugs on her laces on her back brought a small dose of reality. “No.” Her protest was weak. “I must go.”

“You can wear this again today,” he murmured against her skin, his hot breath skimming her nerves and making her eyelids flutter. “You have done it before.”

“John—”

“Allow me this, Louisa. Allow me to love you.”

She wanted to correct him, wanted to tell him that what they were doing had nothing to do with love and that she ought to get to work. What she did was cup his face to pull him in for another kiss. As she devoured his mouth, he pushed her dress off her shoulders, the garment sliding down her body to pool on the floor. His trousers needed little encouragement to follow suit.

John bent slightly to wrap his arms around her waist and lifted Louisa up. She obliged by holding on to his neck, securing herself more tightly as he carried her over to his bed. The moments he carried her, lifted her as though she weighed no more than a cat, sent thrills through her, knowing her giant contained a strength beyond what she could measure and he used it to bring her pleasure.

He sat on the bed, Louisa straddling his hips, their mouths still fused. Her shift was bunched at her waist, her stockinged thighs cradling his. Above her stockings, where their bare skin met and his erection throbbed insistently against her belly, fire coursed over her nerves and she knew without even feeling it that she was wet, her core weeping in anticipation of being filled by him again. Her inner center ached with loneliness, its wail echoing in its emptiness, only to be appeased by his penetration.

“Ah, kitten,” he moaned against her lips. In one fluid movement her chemise was relieved and chucked to the floor. He buried his face in her breasts as one questing hand sought the wet warmth underneath her curls. Her fingers ran down his back, marveling again at his muscles and strength. When two of his fingers found her nub and rubbed circles over it, her nails gripped his skin, threatening to draw blood. His mouth closed over a nipple and his tongue ran around it, puckering it into a hard point.

Her head fell back, small gasps escaping her in time with his suckling. She caressed his head, holding him to her breast, her fingers running over his bald head.

He shifted his hand, his thumb replacing his fingers so they could slip inside her, stroking the walls of her core. “Johnny,” she moaned.

“You are so hot,” he muttered against her breast. “So wet. Hot and wet.” His fingers moved in and out of her, coiling the familiar tension inside her.

“Harder, Johnny, harder.”

He obeyed, quickening the thrusts of his fingers and increasing the pressure of his thumb. “I love it when you say my name like that,” he growled.

“Johnny,” she repeated. He growled against her breast, the vibrations coursing through her. “Johnny.”

Another growl and he removed his hand from her mound. “Enough of this.” He held her close as he twisted and lay her on her back on the soft mattress. He knelt on the floor, using his body to separate her thighs. His hands ran lightly over her skin, drifting from her stomach to her inner thighs, running along the creases that separated leg from hip.

“So beautiful,” he crooned. “Beyond measure.”

Louisa sat up and grasped his shoulders, guiding him down. “Don’t make me wait, Johnny.”

His eyes glinted up at her as he neared his destination. “I am going to make you purr, kitten, so much you will scream.”

“Words are meaningless. Put action to them.”

His face disappeared and he breathed on her moist skin, adding his warmth to her already boiling core. His tongue flicked out, its tip running along her length before his mouth fastened on her clit. “Oh yes, Johnny, finally,” she murmured and lay back on the soft mattress.

As he worked his magic with his tongue, the coil inside her increased its tension. “Right there,” she gasped when he hit a particularly prime spot. Her hips jerked when he returned to it, not hiding her pleasure in the slightest. She pressed her head back into the mattress, arching her back as he suckled.

He growled against her, sending shafts of delight through her core. She set her heels on his shoulders, opening herself up even more to his attentions, pressing herself against his face. She was getting close, her body’s trembling more difficult to suppress.

He lifted his head for a breath. “You taste so sweet,” he muttered. “The finest honey.” He dove back in.

She arched her back again and gasped. “Fingers.” She barely managed to get that word out but it was enough. His two fingers slid back in, stretching her once more, forcing her closer to the edge of the abyss. He skillfully maneuvered her closer and closer, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to drive her there. Her heels slid down his back, digging in below his shoulder blades, trying to draw him in even closer. His pace quickened and moments later she arched her back, choked gasps escaping her as her body climaxed.

John eased away from her, dropping light kisses on her thighs as his fingers slowed their pace, prolonging her orgasm until her body relaxed and she released a deep shuddering sigh. He sat back on his heels, one hand rubbing circles on her stomach, and smiled at her. “You are amazing when you come.”

She smiled at the ceiling, her eyes closed. “I can’t take all the credit. But don’t think I am excusing your prize-ring language.”

He moved to lie on the bed next to her. “You enjoy it, admit it.”

“I admit nothing, sir.”

“I can make you admit it.”

“Never.”

He chuckled, his hand still caressing her stomach. It drifted up to include her breasts, but remained light and attentive. Louisa opened her eyes and smiled at him when she saw he was watching her. She rolled on to her side to press up against him, his hard cock between their bodies. She trailed her hand down his firm chest to grip it, her thumb spreading the bead of moisture that had already escaped. He groaned as her fingers closed around his shaft and tugged gently.

“I suppose you now want me to return the favor.” The look she gave him was sultry.

He shook his head, propped up on one elbow. “No favors here, not in my bed,” he said. His eyes shut as her grip firmed and her strokes became more confident. “Nothing I do is out of expectation of receiving the same. I ask only that you do what you wish, whatever brings you pleasure.”

Her movements stopped, her fingers remaining around his cock. John nearly begged her to continue. “You mean to say,” she spoke, “that if I were to leave this bed now, leaving you like this, you would have no objection?”

“Oh, I would object wholeheartedly,” he replied. He looked at her, cupping her face in his large hand. “But I would not force anything on you that you did not wish. True pleasure and intimacy cannot be achieved without trust, and making demands on a person in bed does not breed it. This is what I give to you, my trust, and with it, my affection.”

Louisa looked at him in a long silence, still holding his member at her mercy. He did not waver from her scrutiny, but held it, confident she would see the sincerity of his words.

When she spoke, it was with a small frown on her face. “You are an odd man, John Taylor.”

He gave her a small smile. “An improvement from a big galoot, I am sure.”

She did not react to that, but tightened her grip on him enough to make him inhale, but not with pleasure. It didn’t exactly hurt, but his body instinctively reacted to the possibility of that appendage being in more pain. “I could hurt you,” she said.

“Yes.” He refused to break her gaze, recognizing she needed this.

“I have seen grown men scream like little girls when this is hurt. I could do that to you with just a squeeze of my hand.”

Yea gods, but if he didn’t deflate just a little bit at that thought. “Yes.”

“Do you still trust me?”

“Yes.” He did not hesitate, his tone firm and sincere, his gaze still not leaving hers. This was vital to both of them.

Her grip eased and she began to move her hand up and down, her touch pleasurable once more. “You make yourself vulnerable to me.”

“I just had my head between your legs. We make ourselves vulnerable to each other.”

“That seems foolish.”

“Such decisions can be, at times. I think this is not one of them.”

Louisa leaned into him, kissing his chest before resting her cheek over his heart. His words made her feel inadequate, unworthy of the trust he was bestowing upon her. He claimed she made herself vulnerable to him, but she couldn’t agree. Even now she was feeling the weight of everything she had been running from, all the lies she had told, knowing they ensured her survival. Did that justify telling them, if it meant she could live?

He threaded his fingers into her hair, tilting her head to gaze upon her face. His questioning eyes roamed over her as though trying to see inside her mind. “Louisa?”

She did the only thing she could think of, the only thing that would ensure his distraction. She gave him a smile and kissed his chest again, making a trail down his sternum, pausing to pay homage to his nipples. When her teeth nibbled on one, a deep groan rumbled up from his chest. With slight pressure, she had him lying on his back, her hand encouraging his cock to impressiveness.

When her trail of kisses grew closer to their destination, his hand on her head stopped her. “You don’t have to.” His words were not very convincing.

She pushed his hands away and held his wrists to the bed. “You will lie there and make yourself vulnerable to me, Johnny. And you will enjoy every moment of it.”

He smiled at her. “If you insist, madam.”

“I do.”

“My kitten has claws,” he said, linking his hands behind his head. Her dominance aroused him even further.

“And you need to watch yourself that you don’t get scratched.”

Louisa dipped her head and ran her tongue along the length of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his shaft quivering as more moisture beaded at the tip. She flicked it with her tongue, the salty taste seasoning her mouth. Grasping the base of his shaft, she closed her mouth around only the head and sucked.

A strangled whimper escaped him, sending a surge of power through her, and she took as much of him into her mouth as she could. She kissed him as thoroughly as she knew how, using the reactions of his body as a map to his pleasure. Her hand worked with her mouth and his body twitched and writhed. When she curled her tongue around his shaft, adding the rough friction to the fray, his hips began to make little thrusts. One of his hands came to grip the back of her head, but she batted it away, intent on this being from her alone. She increased the suction of her mouth.

“God, Louisa, I—I want—I need to be inside you.”

She didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge his words. She was in control and she would decide what would happen. She cupped his balls, fondling them, feeling them harden in preparation.

“Kitten, love, I’m going to—”

His cock throbbed in her mouth and she lifted her head, rapidly pumping him with her hand. “Not yet, Johnny, not until I say.”

“Please,” he begged.

“Hold off.” Her pace increased.

“Louisa!”

A few more hard pumps. “Now.”

A guttural groan accompanied the hot spurt of his seed. It arched onto his stomach, pooling on his skin. She continued to stroke him, easing her pace and pressure as he emptied. His chest rose and fell with his deep breaths as he recovered.