Engaging the Earl (21 page)

“Here we are,” he said, stopping and dismounting.

She looked across the pleasantly grassy expanse of hilltop. “Where?”

He helped her down and then turned to untie a sack tied to his mount. Taking her hand, he smiled and led the way. “You’ll see.”

They walked around a cliffy edge. The breeze carried the smell of the sea and then the water came into view. They’d rounded away from the house to the hills overlooking the inlet. “Oh,” she breathed in awe. “The view is even more spectacular here.”

“Yes, they do seem to try to outdo each other.” He unfurled a blanket he’d taken from his pack and set it on the ground. They sat with the hillside behind them and the gentle drop of land all the way to the cliffs above the inlet stretching in front of them.

She blinked, breathing it all in; the view of the expansive sea stretching in front of them and brown cliffs, the scent of the sea. Her stomach grumbled, a reminder she hadn’t broken her fast yet. “Dare I hope there is more than a blanket in your pack?”

“You may,” he said, pulling out figs, bread, cold chicken, cheese, and ale.

“I suppose the first rule of a great commander is to always be prepared,” she said with honest appreciation. They began to eat. After her first hungry bites, she slowed herself and focused on her posture, remembering to curve her profile just so, so he would see her to her best advantage.

His teeth tore meat from the chicken leg in his hand. He chewed slowly, considering her. “You know,” he said as though discussing something as banal as the weather, “you don’t have to seduce me.”

She scratched her hand, feeling her nerves. “I’m not sure I take your meaning.”

He leaned into her, his mouth near her ear. “I am already seduced.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I don’t require those frippery wiles that you used on Sinclair and all those other gallants.”

“What do you require?”

“You. Just as you are. The same Kitty I left behind.”

“But you are not the same man who left me.”

He looked away from her, out to the sea. “That is true.” She took in his profile. There was nothing refined or soft about Rand anymore. He was much like the terrain that surrounded him; all sharp jutting angles in a less-than-welcoming environment, yet indescribably, inescapably beautiful in an elemental way.

He turned his head to catch her studying him. “I realize last evening might have been less pleasurable than you’d hoped.”

She stiffened. Perhaps he’d left her last evening because bedding her had not lived up to his expectations. “I’m sorry if you were disappointed.”

He laughed, a sound she rarely heard from him, a deep rumble out of his chest. “I was far from disappointed.”

She tipped her head, considering him. “I don’t understand.”

“I was so caught up in my lovely bride, I did not see to your pleasure as I should have.”

She hadn’t been disappointed in the lovemaking, just in what had followed. Still, she ventured to tease him. This new Rand was so serious; he needed to laugh more. “Are you implying you can do better?”

His brows shot up in amusement. “I’m not implying it. I’m stating an indisputable fact.”

She tossed her head, flirting now, an arena she was comfortable with and excelled at. “Indisputable?” She rolled the question off her tongue with obvious disdain.

“Most definitely.”

“Hmmm. I suppose I shall withhold judgment until you’ve convinced me of that.”

He had her on her back before she knew what he was about. His rock-like form hovered over her. “You require evidence, do you?”

“Of course,” she said, her heartbeat moving more swiftly.

He lowered his hips against hers, so that his arousal jutted against her. “How’s that for evidence?”

“It’s a sturdy start.”

He gave a quiet laugh. “You need more, do you?” He moved his hips against her in an insinuating manner, pressing at her mound in a way that sent shivers of pleasure careening through her. “If I am to demonstrate correctly, you must allow me complete access to your money.”

She crinkled her nose. From what she understood, Edward was far wealthier than she could ever hope to be. “What money?”

His hand made its way between their melded hips to the place between her legs. He stroked a particularly sensitive spot through the fabric of her riding habit. “This is your money. Although I’d call it a treasure, myself.”

“You’re gammoning me.” She laughed and pushed against his chest. “That part of a woman most certainly does not have a name.”

“Oh, but it does.” His finger stroked more deliberately. She arched in reflex. “It has many names in fact.”

“Truly?” She found it hard to concentrate on his words, given what his fingers were doing to her. “What are its other names?”

His hand was moving, finding its way under her skirt. “This is hardly a fitting conversation for a lady.” His fingers skated—ever so lightly—up her leg and along the tender flesh at the top of her thighs.

She shivered in anticipation. “We’re out in the open with your hand up my skirt. It’s a bit late for propriety.”

“True.” He brought his lips down on her for an unhurried, devouring kiss. “Very well. If you insist. One’s commodity.”

“One’s commodity?” She kissed him back, long and thorough, sliding her tongue against his, feeling the hunger grow in him. “That makes sense I suppose. In an insulting way.”

“Especially for denizens of Covent Garden.”

She nodded her understanding. One couldn’t help but notice the weary-looking harlots who frequented the theater district, looking for their next transaction. “Tell me another.”

“This”—his fingers parted her down there—“is your sweet little cunny.”

“Oh.” She stopped breathing. “That sounds positively wicked.”

His finger found the knot where all sensation seemed centered. “One can do very wicked things with it…and to it.”

Pinpricks of pleasure shot through her. “I’m sure you know them all.”

“Hardly. Do you want to hear more?” When she nodded, he continued. “This”—he stroked up and down the length of it—“is your quim, your madge, your muff.”

His dark, smoky voice rumbled through her. Need welled up inside her. “What do you call it?”

He undid his placket and freed himself, nudging hard and hungry against her sensitive folds. “I call it paradise,” he said, pushing into her. “And you’re coming with me this time.”

A moan escaped her. One she could not have stopped if she tried. His finger came back to her sensitive spot, circling it, plucking gently at it. Then he took his hand away and she regretted the lost sensory pleasure. She murmured a protest.

“What a demanding wife you are.” He shifted his pelvis upward, rocking against her rather than thrusting as before. “Better?”

Infinitely.
His pubic bone connected to hers, stimulating her with each movement, ratcheting up the delicious, almost painful spikes of sensation inside of her. Catching the rhythm, she began to move with him.

“That’s it.” He kissed her again, his tongue pleasuring her mouth with deep-throated strokes. “Come with me, Kitty.” His voice roughened. “I want to feel your hot little cunny tighten around me.”

His brazen words sent trills of excitement shooting through her, heightening everything happening to her body. He rocked against her in firm, sure movements, the friction causing her insides to contract, tighter and tighter, until something inside her burst and released. She made an exclamation of surprise as warm pleasure spiraled down her legs and pulsed through her.

He pumped urgently into her and reached his own crisis soon after, shooting his seed into her throbbing womb. A shudder wracked him, and then his heavy body came down on hers. He shifted his body weight, rolling off of her and onto his back. His breathing uneven as he pulled her into his arms. “Damnation. That was good.”

She luxuriated in the earthy scent of his skin, suffused with the primal tinge of lovemaking. “I can see why,” she said faintly after a while.

“Why what?” he murmured, pressing a kiss into her forehead.

“Why you call it paradise.” And she felt him smile against her skin.

…

That evening, Kat stroked a light finger over his hard member. “Does this have a name, too?”

He tightened his grip on her shoulders. She sat on her bed wearing her chemise, her legs hanging off the side. Rand stood in front of her, naked, allowing the exploration. “It has many.”

“Remarkable.” Her smooth pointer finger circled the head of his throbbing erection. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to retain control. He’d been so anxious about having an episode on their wedding night that he’d performed less than admirably. He was determined for that not to reoccur this evening. “I never realized marriage would be so educational.”

He watched her inquisitive finger stroke him, and all he wanted to do was suck it into his mouth. To say nothing of what he wanted to do with his rod. “You have no idea.”

She smiled up at him, her pearly teeth glistening, her eyes alert with interest. “Enlighten me.”

He shifted his weight. “This conversation is entirely unsuitable.”

Mischief crept into her smile. “I’ll tell you what.” She scooted her luscious little bum back onto the bed and fell back on her elbows. The movement hiked the hem of her shift up, baring smooth delicate thighs. He pictured them clasped around his hips as he thrust into her. “You tell me what it’s called and I’ll let you put it in me.”

His reluctance evaporated. “Arbor vitae, plug-tail, tackle.” He grabbed her knees in one decisive motion, pulling her toward him so that her bottom perched on the edge of the bed. He stepped between her legs and pushed into her sweet wetness. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did and then undulated against him. She was a fast learner, this wife of his. “Tell me another word for your…tackle.”

He gritted his teeth. “If you start talking dirty to me, I won’t last at all.”

Her eyebrows raised, as though this was a revelation. “Truly?”

“Thomas, pole, tool, lobcock.” His voice strained as he stroked all the way into her, as far as he could go. “Although lobcock is not entirely accurate at this moment.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, moving against him. “Why not?”

“Lobcock refers to a man’s…member…in a less than…ah…rigid state.”

She locked her ankles around his hips. “Then that is definitely not the case with you. You are most stalwart.”

“I intend to show you just how stalwart.”

“Mmmm.” She sighed with pleasure and then a wicked light gleamed in her eyes. “Your…Thomas…feels so good inside me.”

His arousal soared. He leaned over to plunder her mouth with powerful strokes of his tongue. “If you persist in allowing filth to escape your lips, I shall have to teach you a lesson.”

“You’ve given me such incentive.” She gasped when he stroked even farther in her than she thought possible. “I’ve decided I want your…pole…inside of me as often as possible.”

He groaned, and said pole grew harder, if that were possible. He should slow down, but she had him in such an agitated state that his body took over, stroking hard and heavy. He brought his hand to the place where they were joined to see to her pleasure. She moaned and squirmed and they moved together toward their crisis. Unbearable pressure built up in his stomach and chest, sensation shot down the back of his legs, and the tension broke. Waves of immense pleasure and satisfaction, sensations well beyond the carnal, saturated his senses.

He collapsed on the bed beside her, breathing hard. “I trust I have proven my point.”

She stretched, creating a wanton picture with her chemise still bunched up around her middle, baring her from the waist down. “What point is that?”

“That this business of the marriage bed could be good between us. Very good, in fact.”

“Oh, yes. You’ve proven exceedingly adept. Both this morning and this evening. I’m very fortunate.” They lay there quietly for a few minutes and she turned to snuggle against his shoulder. Her expression turned more serious as she ran a light hand over the unsightly, puckered scar there. “I hate that you were injured and suffering on a battlefield somewhere and I didn’t know.”

“That is all in the past.” He drew her hand away and kissed it. “I am here now.”

“Will you tell me about it one day?”

His chest contracted. “No. It is not something I care to remember or discuss. These are not stories of valor that will entertain the
ton
.” The words were sharp. Her eyes shuttered and he saw that he had hurt her. He drew her to him, putting his arms around her. “I apologize.”

“I didn’t mean to anger you. I just want to know you better.”

Which he could never allow. If she ever saw the full truth of who he was now, it would disgust her. The sounds of scratching at the adjoining door reached him. “That would be Vera.”

She nestled into him. Her intriguing tapestry of scents—clean soap, musky skin, and the hint of lavender in her hair—curled around him. “I can’t blame her for not wanting to be shut away from you,” she said. “The animal is female after all. We can’t seem to resist you.”

Thank heaven for that
. Rand gathered her in, all warm woman and soft curves, relishing a feeling of relaxed fulfillment. He yawned, not wanting to move, relishing this rare perfect suspended moment. Sweet exhaustion weighted his eyelids.

Vera whined behind the closed door, breaking the spell. Rational thought speared his contentment. He forced his eyes open. He could not fall asleep here.

He must have tensed because Kitty opened her eyes. “What is it?”

He kissed her, pressing his lips against hers, before setting her away from him in a gentle motion. “I’d best see to Vera.”

She caught his arm. “Don’t go, surely Burgess can see to her.”