AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There has been much speculation in society, and for some reason, I have been apprehensive in asking.”
“Are you asking?”
“Yes,” she said sleepily.
“It happened the night I rescued my children.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Tell me.”
“When I found them, I haggled with depraved men, and I bought them. We fled as fast as possible. Within a minute they caught us up in the alley, and a fight ensued. It was quick and vicious. I conquered, but I did not escape unscathed,” he said succinctly, not wanting to tarnish her with how ugly everything had been.
“It is the most honorable of wounds then.” She turned onto her side, facing him, her delicate fingers skimming his chest. Her golden hair, thick and lustrous, framed her face and fell down over her shoulders and his chest in tumbling waves.
She buried her nose into the hollow of his throat and inhaled. “This feels like such a wonderful dream. This is where I want to be.”
His pulse jumped in his throat. This is where I want you, too.
She felt so right in his arms. She was so soft, delicate, her flesh warm and as tempting as sin itself. He dipped his head and kissed her shoulder. Evie made a soft purring sound. It was the sweetest and most provocative sound he’d ever heard.
He tugged her to him and claimed her lips in a ravishing kiss, hoping to convey the need burning through his body for her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with greed, never wanting to relinquish the wonder of her sweet taste. She came alive in his arms, returning his embrace as if she was just as hungry.
Richard twisted, pressing her back into the mattress and coming down between her spread thighs. The force of his need shocked him. He reached between them and tested her readiness. A groan rumbled from him at the wetness he found. She pulled her lips from him, taking greedy gulps of air. Lust had flushed her cheeks a becoming pink, her eyes were heavy lidded and slumberous, her lips swollen and damp from his kisses.
Her nipples were strawberry pink, and he flicked his tongue over a hardened nipple, before rolling it gently and sucking. He pushed her legs apart with his own, his hips shifted, he parted her folds, and he pushed inside her, slowly, thrusting inexorably deeper until she took him all. Her inner walls gripped his cock like a silken glove. Her fingers sank into his hair. Though she soaked his cock with her arousal, she rippled over him in a too tight clasp. She shivered, and he groaned, deep and guttural, before kissing her deep and carnally, and at times pulling back to whisper explicit, sensual, and sometimes filthy promises against her lips. He made no allowances for her innocence, and he was damn grateful she did not seem to mind, responding to his urgings with such sweet sensuality.
He pulled back and returned with a swift, deep penetration. Her trembling moan turned into a low cry of pleasure. He fused his lips with hers and swept them into a powerful rhythm. She clung to him sweetly, giving and taking equally, more passionate and generous than any lover he had ever known. Her hands twined around his neck, holding him close. He could taste when her passion was upon her. She whimpered, kissed him with more carnal urgency, and rolled her hips with such innate sensuality onto his cock he almost expired on the spot. Her head fell back onto the pillow, her neck delectably arched, shuddering breaths escaping her.
With a keening cry, her small frame convulsed in his arms, her nails biting into his shoulders with an erotic sting as she clamped down on his cock so tightly he could barely move within her. Fiery fingers of pleasure danced up his spine, and he emptied his release deep into her welcoming body.
She smiled at him, her eyes glowing with feminine satisfaction.
He turned her to her stomach and pressed soothing kisses along her shoulder blades. With a soft sigh, she curled onto her side and slipped into slumber as if she had not just rocked his soul. With hands that trembled, he tugged the sheets across her body, protecting her from the slight chill in the room. He eased from the bed, careful not to disturb her, and went to the hearth to stoke the fire. He then went to the armoire, selected a pair of trousers and a simple white linen shirt, and tugged them on. Pacing to the wide windows overlooking the southern tip of his estate, he stared into the darkness. His heart felt heavy, and his emotions were a jumbled, tangled mess. He hardly knew what to do with the tug and pull at his heart. The need to keep her close, protect her, love her, meshed brutally with his former intention to keep her at a distance.
He needed to mount his horse and ride across the country to clear his head.
An hour later, after leaving a note for Evie and strict instructions for no one to enter his chambers, he powered across the lanes of his estate on his stallion. Though he’d known what would happen if Evie stayed, he’d still not expected the ease with which he had succumbed to her charms. Devil take it. He’d taken her damn virtue, and her future husband would surely feel its loss. God’s blood. He’d taken more than her virtue, he’d debauched her thoroughly in every way possible. And the worst of it, he was not remotely satisfied. He wanted her always, and he almost roared his denial at the selfish acknowledgment. He was being damnably weak…again.
After tenderly cleaning her in the library, they had drunk brandy, a first for the giggling Evie. With sensual promises glowing in her eyes, she’d climbed down his body and had taken his cock into her mouth, with a bewildering mix of innocence and carnality that had held him spellbound.
He pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a steady canter as the memory of the way she had taken him had his erection rubbing against the saddle in acute discomfort.
He’d been impatient for her and had made love with her again, before lifting her sleeping weight into his arms to his chambers. And just now he’d loved her again without any consideration for the tenderness she must have felt… What in God’s name had he been thinking? And wasn’t that the bloody problem? He never seemed to think with any clarity where she was concerned.
Hell’s teeth. Evie deserved marriage after the way he had thoroughly debauched her. Richard scrubbed a hand over his face, a snarl of frustration rising in his chest. One touch was all it had taken from her, one damnable touch, a fleeting kiss, and all the chains and barriers he’d erected around his desires had collapsed, and the years of pent-up longing and lust had roared to the surface of his soul and conquered. That had been an unfamiliar experience—his control acting like ashes in the wind, easily swept away.
But how could he marry Evie? He already debated the merits of destroying Lady Honoria’s reputation. To ruin Evie’s position in society, to endure her eventual heartbreak…he couldn’t even contemplate the notion. The scorn and ridicule that would be directed her way. Christ. She had no idea the vilification he’d happily endured for his daughter’s sake.
Thundering hooves drew his attention to the far distance. He relaxed when he recognized Harrison.
“Richard.”
“You’ve returned soon. Do you have news?”
The man grimaced. “I’ve found Miss Imogen Green. It was quite easy, and she wasn’t hiding. She is being kept in a cottage near Brighton by Lord Covington. She’s his mistress and is contented to remain so.”
“Covington,” Richard mused. “He’s recently married, isn’t he?”
“To an American heiress.”
