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Authors: Karen Erickson

BOOK: Lessons in Indiscretion
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Tremors shook her, and he fumbled with his trousers, removing them completely, then moved up her body. He covered her, pressing her into the mattress, and with one thrust he was inside her.

She cried out at the sensation, her still-trembling inner walls clutching him as he filled her. He pushed inside her again and again, his jaw gritted tight, the muscles in his neck straining in stark relief. She stared up at him, ensnared by the beauty of his barely restrained control. He slapped his hips against hers, and their gazes held. Groaning, he swooped down and crushed her mouth in a devastating kiss. She skittered her hands up and down his back, pressing against the firm muscles of his buttocks, and sighed with pleasure as he sank deeper within her.

It was so good. She hadn’t known being with a man could be like this, could feel like this, and when she broke their kiss, they watched each other as he filled her over and over. No words were spoken, but none were necessary, for they would have ruined the moment.

It was enough to stare into his eyes and feel his body moving within hers. She’d never been so utterly connected with someone. The moment was fraught with intimacy, and she almost wanted to weep from the intensity.

He stiffened and stopped, a moan tearing from his throat as he threw his head back. He erupted inside her, filling her with jerking spurts of his seed. She followed him, a climax washing over her, stronger than the last, and clutched at him, clung to him as if she never wanted to let go.

And she didn’t.

Chapter Four

They’d spent the last two weeks constantly fucking, and he still couldn’t get the woman out of his system, Garrett thought grimly as he waited on the sidelines of yet another dance floor as Lady Renwick danced with yet another man. She made him reckless, hungry, in constant need of her. He’d never been utterly enthralled with a woman, taking a secret sense of pride in his cool detachment where the fairer sex was concerned. Allowing one’s emotions to become involved only caused trouble. His father had warned him of that in his youth.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t stop wanting to be with her, talking to her, kissing her, buried inside her…

Since the two of them had taken up this little affair, Julia had become the belle of the season. Men swarmed her at every event she attended, vying for a dance, a chance to offer her a refreshment or speak a few idle words. All the while he was nearby, observing, coveting her, wishing like hell he could tell the rest of her potential suitors to bugger off. She belonged to him.

But he couldn’t. Their relationship was a well-kept secret.

Jealousy flared deep. He took a sip from his glass and exhaled loudly as the spirits burned down his throat. Just looking at her drove him mad with desire. Watching her laugh at whatever the idiot she was dancing with had said. Just seeing her in another man’s arms made him want to tear the gloating arse from limb to limb. She was merely being polite, he was sure, for only one man could make her moan with pleasure from his touch alone. Only one man could make her come so hard she sobbed his name every single time she fell apart in his arms.

And he was that man.

The set ended, and she excused herself from her dance partner with a polite smile. Garrett had no clue who he was, not that it mattered. No one mattered but the woman who stood only feet away, clad in a gorgeous emerald-green gown that accentuated her lush figure. The color emphasized the creaminess of her skin, the darkness of her hair and eyes.

Her gaze drifted and met his for the briefest moment. He stared at her, bold as he pleased, and flicked his head toward the hall behind him, hoping she would catch the hint.

From the sudden tilt of her chin, she knew what he wanted.

After handing his empty glass to a servant who wandered past, he turned and pushed through the crowd, ignoring those who called his name, for there were many. Friends of his or the mothers who wanted to introduce him to their debutante daughters before the season ended in two days.

This…indulgence he was having with Julia would soon end. She’d made a whispered declaration to him one night while lying in bed. She’d been snuggled close in his arms after a particularly satisfying bout of lovemaking, and he hadn’t protested. Too enthralled with the silkiness of her skin, how her body fit so perfectly lying next to his.

Now he wondered if he’d made a mistake by letting her think he didn’t care about her beyond the occasional dalliance, which was their original agreement. Perhaps he should’ve told her how his feelings for her had grown. She thought their age difference was a hindrance, but he didn’t care. Hell, she made him careless. He always took great pains to ensure he didn’t climax inside a woman’s body. His mother would drop dead if he announced the impending arrival of his bastard child.

With Julia, he came inside her every single time, couldn’t imagine not doing so. And if she got with child, he’d marry her. Could only imagine what a fine mother she would make.

His need for her knew no bounds. He went to her every single night. They’d been together for a solid fortnight, staying up until all hours of the morning, naked. In bed. Against the wall, in her bathtub, in his carriage, on the floor, in a chair.

Everywhere.

He strode into the hall and stopped at the first door he came upon, before opening it to discover a darkened library. The room smelled musty, the scent of old books lingered in the air and he left the door cracked, hopeful she’d discover where he was. He’d done it before; they’d done
this
before. Sneaking away from the other guests and fucking like mad, hidden away in another room where anyone could walk in on them at any given moment, but he didn’t care.

The need to be constantly inside her, possessing her—it wouldn’t leave him. She was a fire in his blood. He didn’t know what he’d do without her.

He shuddered and perished the thought.

Within moments she slipped inside and carefully shut the door behind her. He rushed toward her and pinned her between the door and his body with her back to his front. Her plump bottom brushed against his groin, and she cast a small smile over her shoulder.

“Couldn’t wait? I thought we were meeting at my house after the ball.”

“I couldn’t wait.” He breathed deeply of her scent, and her silky hair tickled his face. Bending toward her, he kissed and licked her nape, knowing it drove her particularly wild, which was what he wanted, Julia wild and gasping in his arms, all the while she begged for his cock.

Her purr of pleasure spurred him on, and he slipped his arms around her waist and hauled her close. He ground his hips against her backside, letting her feel his erect cock straining his trousers. She thrust back, rubbing her delectable bottom across him, and he bit at her ear, licked it, and she gasped.

“Anyone could walk in.” She played this game every time, and he knew it aroused her, the thought of someone indeed walking in on them and catching them locked together and panting.

“I don’t care. Let them walk in.” He played his role the same, for it excited him too. The mad grab as they fumbled with their clothes and the delicious friction of her quim clutching his cock. She was wet and eager every single time, and he loved that. Loved how he could touch between her legs and his fingers would come back dripping wet. Her scent lingered on his hand long after they were together, and he wondered idly if he was depraved for enjoying it so.

He loved the way she tasted, the sounds she made when he filled her, the sounds she made when she came. How she derived pleasure from his pleasure. Giving and sweet, sometimes a little feisty and always,
always
willing to do what he wanted. She was adventurous, kind and thoughtful. A constant delight.

She was like no other woman he’d ever met. And he wanted more of her. Craved her.

Needed her.

Julia pushed at him, turning to face him. He reached for her, tugged at the rounded neck of her gown and exposed her beautiful breasts, her beaded, pale pink nipples. He drew one into his mouth and sucked, bracing his hands against the door on either side of her head as he bent over her. Lavishing all his attention on her lush flesh and making her moan loudly.

“Shh,” he reprimanded when he lifted away, the sweet taste of her flesh lingering on his tongue. “Someone might hear you.”

“But it feels so good.” She flashed him a languid smile, and pride flooded him that he was the one who put that look on her face.
He
was the one who could pleasure her like no other.

“Want me to make you feel even better?” He cocked a brow arrogantly, knowing without a doubt that what he wanted to do to her would make her feel incredible.

“Do you believe you can?” All their illicit meetings had made her confident. He’d secretly believed she had it in her. No longer was she a shy, unsure woman. Now she was a tigress that went after what she wanted.

He was grateful that what she seemed to want was him.

“I know I can, my lady.” He gathered her skirts and petticoats so they floated about her waist, and then grabbed her, slipping his hands around her bottom and hauling her up. She wound her legs around his hips, anchoring herself to him, and he pinned her to the door and rubbed his insistent cock against her. He’d discovered last week that she didn’t even bother wearing drawers any longer, much to his delight.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered throatily as he nudged his cock through her soaked folds. “Now.”

Garrett did as she demanded, sliding into her. Slowly, savoring the glide, the way her inner tissues clasped him, hot and velvety. She curled her hands about his shoulders, tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Leaning forward, he kissed her neck and nibbled the slender column, licked where her pulse throbbed. She tightened her grip and shuddered around him.

His cock surged at the sensation.

“Garrett.” He loved it when she said his name. It made him feel alive, needed, wanted, desired.

He moved within her, withdrawing almost completely before pushing back inside. A trembling breath escaped her, and he watched, entranced by her beauty. She was wrapped up in sensation, her head rubbing against the door with his every thrust, her eyes closed, her lips parted. Unable to resist, he kissed her, thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, and she accepted him, tangling her tongue with his.

“Harder,” she urged against his mouth, and he smiled.

“Only if you promise to be quiet.” She was a screamer, his Julia, and he couldn’t have her drawing every attendee of this cursed ball into the library with one of her climax-induced shouts.

“I cannot make that promise.” A little cry escaped even now as he increased his thrusts, pounding her against the door, giving her what she wanted.

“Then I shall have to make sure you don’t bring the roof down.”

He pushed inside her, harder, faster, brutally taking her. She reveled in it, her moans growing louder with his every thrust. Her inner walls squeezed him tight, signaling her climax was near. She was close. He knew her body very well, and he increased his pace, ready to explode.

Her lips parted, and a shuddering scream began to sound with the onslaught of her orgasm. He clamped a hand over her mouth, making sure she could breathe through her nose. Keeping his hand there, he stared into her big brown eyes as he took her, his orgasm hitting him so hard that his entire body tensed before he spilled inside her with an agonizing groan.

Dropping his hand, he rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath, to calm his racing heart. She appeared to do much the same. Her shuddering, hot breaths blasted against his face, making him want to kiss her again. Take her again and never let her go.

“We should go back,” she said, reluctance tingeing the words.

“Your dance card full again this evening, my lady?” He winced the moment he said it. He sounded like a jealous fool.

Maybe because he was.

She laughed, didn’t even seem to notice his churlishness. “I don’t understand it. These last few days of the season I’ve suddenly become rather popular.”

Garrett was incredulous. Did she not see? Her radiance, her confidence—they shone through and brought her the attention she rightfully deserved. There were many titled ladies who believed all eyes should focus on them, but none could hold a candle to Julia’s natural beauty, her easy charm.

All she’d needed was someone to pay attention to her, tell her she was lovely, make her believe she was worthy. And now she reigned supreme.

He could at least take comfort in that he was the one who brought that spark forth. The spark of life that glowed from within. She’d just needed someone to show her she was wanted.

And he was the one who did that.

Slowly he withdrew and tucked himself back into his trousers. Relaxing his hold on her waist, he lowered her until her feet settled onto the ground and her skirts fell to cover her. She smoothed a tremulous hand over her hair, smiled up at him, and his heart panged hard when he saw the sweet softness reflected in her eyes.

God, if he wasn’t careful, he could fall in love with her.

 

Julia knew she looked a fright. Her hair felt loose from its coiffure, and her cheeks and chest must be flushed from their lovemaking. Garrett looked gorgeous, his dark hair mussed, his eyes brimming with passion and his lips damp and swollen from their kisses. Her knees grew weak as she greedily watched him, and she wanted him all over again.

She wanted him all the time. It was rather disconcerting.

“I should return to the ballroom. I promised Sir Reginald a dance,” she murmured. Her smile faded when she caught his scowl. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like all of those men…touching you.” He stepped away as if he needed distance, and she felt lonely without him so close.

“It’s nothing, Garrett. Really.” She went to him and cupped his tense jaw. She stroked his face, felt the prick of stubble. He’d become rather lazy, neglecting to shave on occasion. She didn’t mind, though the whisker burn he left behind on her skin sometimes irritated her.

She believed he secretly enjoyed seeing it. He had left his mark on her.

“You do realize you belong to me, don’t you? At least for tonight?” His dark, possessive tone sent a thrill down her spine, and she caressed the slight indentation of his chin with her index finger.

“Yes, Garrett.” She dropped her hand, disappointment crashing through her. Why did he always have to mention how temporary their affair was? Yes, she was the one who wanted it to be temporary from the start but her feelings had slowly changed. How could she admit she wanted…more?

He didn’t want more. He wanted this, what they already shared. There were only two official engagements left before the season ended, which meant their time together would end as well. They would part, and he would escape to the country while she stayed alone in London.

Without him.

“I don’t want you to forget it.” He drew her into his arms, stroking his fingers down her back. “When you’re dancing and laughing and talking with all of those men who want you, remember who just made you come, who just made you scream.”

She quivered at the sincerity of his tone, the wickedness of his words. She could never forget who had brought forth such emotion in her. He was the only one who could make her feel this way. He touched her, and she immediately wanted him. He looked at her, and she grew damp between her legs. He kissed her, and she wanted the kisses to never, ever stop.

She was in so deep she didn’t know how to get out.

“Go.” He released her, and she stepped away, confused. “Go first, and I shall follow you in a few minutes.”

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