Page 34 of Falling for a Footman

Their tongues were exploring each other as his right hand moved down to cup her womanhood. The warmth of his hand seemed to further ignite her core. Charlotte could not help but press herself against it to simply have more of the feeling. Charlotte clung to him, panting, as he expertly played with the folds of her sex.

“Should I...?” She did not even know how to ask him whether she should touch him as well.

“No, not today,” he said and clearly knew exactly what she was thinking. He kissed her temple and slid a finger into her wet heat. “Right now, I simply want you to enjoy it.”

She did. She definitely did. Charlotte leaned back and closed her eyes, running her hands through James’s hair as he found her nipple with his mouth and at the same time was stroking an even rhythm inside her with his fingers. The feeling of his mouth on her nipple was muffled by the thin fabric of her chemise and she frantically unlaced the opening and tore the chemise aside to allow his mouth to meet her skin.

The tension inside her built and Charlotte could do nothing but pant and moan and then her whole body spasmed in the most unexpected but wonderful way. Hazily she opened her eyes to see James’s self-satisfied smile as he pulled her dress down and sat beside her on the bed, tugging her into his side and raining kisses on her face. Charlotte found his mouth and kissed him fiercely.

“What about you?” she breathed after a little while.

“What about me?” James prodded, chuckling.

“You know what I mean,” Charlotte mumbled and blushed. She was unable to meet his eyes but played with a button on his jacket instead. “How do I...?

She motioned in the direction of his groin although she did not dare look. Her hand still clearly remembered the way he felt.

“As much I would like you to touch me, I’m not sure now it is the time or the place,” he muttered, squeezing her to him and kissing her temple.

“It seems unfair,” Charlotte murmured as she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Perhaps,” James allowed against her hair. The fever that had caught both of them before seemed to have ebbed. “We need to be very careful, Charlotte. We hardly know each other and yet...”

Charlotte felt the wrath from before pool inside her once more like a hot liquid in her stomach. She tore herself from his embrace and jumped off the bed.

“Well, we could know each other better if you would answer my questions. Don’t think I don’t know that you have secrets,” she exclaimed.

“Charlotte, I...” James sighed.

“Well, will you? What is your connection to the Marquis of Riplingham? How come you are able to read and write? How are you able to afford shoes and a trunk in such a good quality?” She widened her eyes in question, but it only made him look at the floor as he rubbed his eyes.

“There is a perfectly good explanation for that,” he began.

“But you are not going to tell me?” Charlotte finished, when he did not say anything else.

“No,” James stated firmly. “Not right now. Charlotte, please give me some time. A week. I will explain everything to you then.”

“A week is not good enough, James.” She walked hastily to the door and opened it. “You’re probably right: It’s better that we part ways now.”

She closed the door and hurried down the dark hallway. She had forgotten her candlestick in the room, but it did not matter. She knew her way back and besides nothing much mattered at the moment.