Page 51 of Real Earls Break the Rules

“It’s shown in your portrait. What will you do?”

His head lowered to kiss a hot trail down her neck, and lower still, to the lacy bodice of her gown. When his lips hovered over the swell of a breast, she sucked in a breath.

“Then we must make love on another piece of furniture in my study, so that I will think of something else when I have to work on my desk,” he murmured against her breast.

She bit her lip. “Your study? I was hoping we could try here?”

He lifted his head an inch to meet her gaze, and a flash of raw, primitive lust lit his eyes. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

My lady. She’d worked hard to behave like a lady ever since Eliza had married Lord Huntingdon. But since she’d been with Brandon, propriety was the last thing on her mind. What did it matter when the hot tide of passion raged through her?

He lowered his head once again over her breast and kissed the soft flesh above her bodice. She wanted more, and her hand went to brazenly cup her own breast.

“Kiss me here,” she breathed.

His fingers swiftly went to the fastenings on the back of her gown. Then her gown and chemise slid down her arms, and her bare breasts were revealed to his heated gaze. With lids half closed, she watched him lower his head and lick a pebble hard nipple. Then his teeth tugged slightly, sending sharp pleasure down to her belly.

There was a rustle of skirts, and then his fingers glided up her silk stockings, past her thighs, to the top of her garters. He found the slit in her drawers and reached her woman’s center. This time she knew the pleasure to be found and squirmed beneath his touch until he threaded through the curls to finger her swollen, sensitive flesh.

“Ah, Amelia. You’re so wet for me.”

Ragged whimpers of sheer need escaped her lips. His magical fingers were at her soft core, stroking, teasing, driving her mad. Her hips arched against his hand of their own accord.

“Easy, Amelia,” he murmured.

She didn’t want easy. She wanted all of him. Boldly she reached for the fall of his breeches and let out a satisfied moan when she felt his hardness. He hissed at her touch, then helped her with the loosening and he sprang free, hard and demanding. Her fingers explored him, reveling in the hard feel of him, like steel encased in velvet. He groaned and cupped her bottom with his large hands and lifted her to press her against the trunk of the tree.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said hoarsely.

She lifted her legs, eager to feel his fullness inside her. The tip of his cock eased inside an inch.

She couldn’t control her moan of delight. “Brandon, I need more.” Her fingers grasped his hard buttocks, urging him to thrust.

“Sweet Jesus,” he groaned. “I tried to go slow.”

Deep spirals of desire formed in her belly, and her hips arched forward just as he plunged deep. Her breath caught, but this time there was no pain, only the stretching of her body to accommodate him. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss as he began to thrust in and out of her body. It was exquisite, wicked, and oh, so miraculous. Passion rose in her like the hottest fire, clouding her mind. He captured her lips as a scream erupted, and she crested and rode the wave of pleasure. He threw back his head and groaned, his eyes closing for an instant as he withdrew from her body and found his release.

Exhausted and drained, his forehead rested against hers as they breathed heavily in the cool forest air. At last he pulled back and brushed a kiss across her lips.

Her heart tightened in her chest, and she feared her emotions more than this desire. Brandon had awakened her body, but it was her soul that had changed. She couldn’t love him. They were from different worlds. He needed what she didn’t have, and she wanted an artistic future that she could never have as his wife.

But she cared for him. Greatly.

He’d withdrawn last night, and she was grateful for his precautions. An unwanted pregnancy would be disastrous, and the consequences would be grave for both of them.

With a firm hold on her waist, he slowly eased her to her feet and helped right her gown. When at last she was dressed, she turned to him. He reached out and picked a leaf from her hair.

“For a tumultuous bout of lovemaking, you don’t appear too disheveled, save for a few bits of bark and leaves. God’s truth, Amelia. I can’t keep my hands off you,” he said.

“Then I fear I’ll never finish the paintings.”

His smile tugged at her heart. “I’ve always had faith in you.”

She licked her swollen lips, tasting Brandon’s lingering kiss. “We must return.”

He offered his arm, and they left the woods and started back through the crowd. She spotted Minerva in the distance. Amelia couldn’t believe that the women hadn’t moved from where they’d left them, and they were still haggling with the peddler over his goods.

Amelia’s step halted, and she looked up at Brandon. “Will you take me to the textile mill?”