Page 64 of The Earl's Spark


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A maid arrived and Keating gestured to the stairs. “Please show Miss Gwen to her room.”

“Right this way, miss.”

Her smile to Davie was not the least bit faked. “Thank you, Davie.”

His cheeks flushed. “It was my pleasure, Miss Gwen.”

She lifted her skirt and hurried up to the second floor after the maid. The young woman didn’t speak, just walked to a door off to the left and opened it. Peering inside, Fyre noted her bags had already been taken up.

“Would you like me to put away your things, miss?”

Fyre didn’t realize that the maid was asking her, for a moment. She blinked and shook her head. “No, thank you. I will do it in the morning. I think I have kept enough people in the house awake. Thank you.”

“Abbie, miss. If you need anything just pull the cord and I will come right away.”

“Thank you, Abbie. I will be fine tonight. Could you make sure I am up by six please?”

“Of course.”

Fyre knew she should wake by then but wasn’t positive her body wouldn’t protest the early wakeup. She did not want to be the last one to anything.

After assuring Abbie that she would be fine getting ready for sleep on her own, she got the girl on her way. Washing up, she swiftly changed and crawled between the crisp sheets of the bed. Never had she been on anything so soft.

Getting up in the morning would be difficult for sure.

Eyes closing, she drifted off into a dream world that she didn’t want to retreat from.

* * * *

As she’d requested, Abbie was there to wake her in the morning.

Crawling with reluctance from the comfort of the bed, Fyre yawned and stretched.

“Would you like a bath, miss? I can have one brought up.”

“It sounds divine. Thank you, Abbie. What about others? Are they up yet?”

She shook her head. “No, miss. Only you and the staff are up right now.”

“Thank you.”

“I will have it here right away.”

True to her word, Abbie had a steaming bath waiting for her within a short time. Once she was alone, she stripped and sank with a moan into the heated water.

Oh, this is heaven.

“Those moans, baby. You are killing me.”

She turned with a gasp that morphed into a low groan as Phillip’s mouth captured hers, his tongue dipping with familiarity between her lips.

“What are you doing here?”

His hot gaze moved over her as if she weren’t beneath the water, hidden from his view.

“I missed you and you got in late. Everything okay?”

“My lord—”

“Phillip.” He dragged his hand over her cheek and down her throat.

Nipples tight and the throbbing between her legs picking up its pace, she swallowed back her whimper.

“This is improper.”

“Want me to leave?” His lips followed the path his hand had just taken, nipping and laving her skin, leaving her more flushed than she had been.

“No.”

“You are such a fucking temptation sitting here. God, I know you are naked and I want to plunge my hand below the water and feel you come apart around me again.” His lips were at her ear. “I relive that moment every night when I jerk myself off to the memory of how you bowed your back and cried my name.”

Head against the edge of the tub she was in, she watched his face. The raw need there was a thing of beauty.

He pulled back a tiny bit but she felt it. Everywhere.

“Why were you so late?”

“I had to help Mrs. Marta with a few things. I did not think it would matter when I arrived.”

“I was worried.” He unpinned her hair from where she’d gathered it on her head. He thrust his fingers into the strands and she didn’t care about the ends landing in the water.

“I am fine.”

He huffed. “I am allowed to worry about my woman.” She widened her eyes at his statement and he shook his head. “Are you going to argue with me?” He captured her chin. “Because if you are, we really need to have another discussion.”

“You need a woman befitting your station.”

“I am looking at her. Right now.” He slid his hand under the water and in her periphery, she watched him grip the edge so hard his knuckles paled beneath his tan. His shirt sleeve instantly soaked, molding to the powerful muscles in his arm.

He locked his gaze on hers, refusing to release her. Beneath the water, he skimmed his hand up her thigh and wedged it between her legs. She widened her thighs for him without him saying a word, and gasped as one finger dipped into her heat.

“Oh, Phillip.”

The moan tumbled from her lips without thought or care to who may hear it. His lips were there the next second, covering the cry that slid free as he pushed another finger inside her, his wrist pumping with leisurely strokes.

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