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Evie immediately felt self-conscious, so much so she reached down to snatch up the discarded towel from the floor and hold it in front of her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She eyed him warily.
He finished straightening and fastening his own clothes before answering her. “I was looking for any evidence that you were shocked or disgusted or in any other way disturbed by what we just did.”
“Is that how other ladies have reacted?”
“We were not talking of other ladies,” he rasped.
Evie winced as it occurred to her that young and unmarried ladies of Society probably did not behave in the wanton manner she just had. “Perhaps we are not talking of ‘ladies’ at all.”
Hunter scowled. “I did not say that.”
“Your expression says it.” She got down from the bed to step around the bathtub and gather up her robe. She kept her back toward Hunter as she dropped the towel, then pulled on the robe and secured the belt about her waist. She turned to face him. “I think you should leave now.” She held her chin high but kept her gaze averted from meeting or seeing the expression in his.
Outwardly, she remained calm and in control, but inwardly, she just wanted to sit down and cry. Seconds ago, she and Hunter had shared the most profound experience of her life. But now all Evie wanted was for Hunter to leave her bedchamber as quickly as possible so that he did not witness her tears of humiliation.
It washisbedchamber, she reminded herself, as the whole house was also his.
But not, as Evie had already told him once today, the people within it.
“I have asked you to leave,” she reminded him firmly, knowing that if he didn’t leave soon those tears were going to fall hotly down her cheeks.
* * *
Hunter could see how determined Evie was in the almost regal way in which she held her head and refused to meet his gaze.
He had to admit to being…shocked by what had just happened.
Not shocked at Evie, but with himself.
He never lost control, no matter what the circumstances. He had certainly never lost control with a woman before, sexually or otherwise. In the past, the sexual act had only ever been a way in which to relieve sexual tension. When a suitable woman was not available to satisfy that need, he had no objection to using his own hand to bring about that same release. As he had done earlier today.
But here, with Evie, he wasn’t even sure he could call what had happened between them anything as ordinary as the sexual encounters he’d had in the past. Making love to and with Evie had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. More arousing. More thrilling. Just more.
He had always been a man of even temperament and emotions. Deliberately so. It was easier that way, he had found during his youth, to avoid the highs and lows of emotion. Perhaps that way, he did not experience the euphoria others claimed to, in sex and other matters, but at least his way, he also avoided the pain of disappointment.
There had been nothing measured or unemotional about the way in which he had first made love to Evie and then encouraged her to make love to him. Or the extreme pleasure he had felt in doing so. As for masturbating himself until he ejaculated into her mouth… He had never so much as thought of doing such a wild and sensual thing before today. Before Evie.
There were, he now realized, so many more sexual pleasures he wished to share with her.
Primarily, he wanted to bury his cock inside her. To claim all of her. He had already claimed her mouth, but he hungered to also claim her pussy and her arse.
Again, the latter was something so primal, he had never thought of doing it with another woman. But with Evie, it felt right that he should want to claim her everywhere and in every way possible.
What that meant in regard to his emotions, he was as yet unsure, having nothing with which to compare the clamor of feelings churning inside him.
His thoughts and emotions were so disordered that Hunter knew he needed to spend more time with Evie if he were to even begin to understand them. “Once I have things settled here, I shall be returning to London—”
“Go,” she scorned. “I shall not miss you.”
He winced at her dismissal. “Perhaps I shall miss you?”
She snorted. “You have had no trouble forgetting my existence these past five years, I am sure you will quickly do so again once you are back amongst your fashionable friends.”
Hunter somehow doubted that was going to happen. “I was going to suggest that you come back to London with me.” The very thought of leaving her here, of being apart from her, was now anathema to him.
Uncertainty wavered in her gaze for several seconds, until her spine straightened, and she looked at him through narrowed lids. “I am not my mother, nor do I have any intention of becoming the mistress of a rich man who will then discard me without a second thought when he becomes bored.”
He frowned. “My father did not discard your mother.”
