The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance (19 page)

“
Yes I do,”
Rafe stammered as she walked away from him, her
hips swaying slightly, his cock throbbing persistently.

Chapter
28

The Governess is
Serviced

In which the
governess is expertly helped to forget her worries.

Charlotte made
it back to the main house before darkness fell, her clothes still
damp and very wrinkled, her skin still tingling from Eddie
Johnson's confident touch. She had been so well serviced that she
could not even muster any regret. She felt plenty of annoyance and
more than a little anger, but no regret. The man was still the most
infuriating person she had ever dealt with, and her seeming
inability to resist him made him all the more maddening. It should
have been the Earl of Langham she had been rubbing her naked body
against, not that great hunk of muscle topped with a grin who
called himself a valet. She smiled bitterly to herself as she
removed her ruined clothes. She had to admit he was awfully good at
any sex act you cared to mention, and for a moment she remembered
how forcefully his narrow hips had rocked into her, so hard that
the bed had hammered against the wall loud enough to be heard over
the thunder. And this time he had not said obscene things to her or
grabbed her head and forced his cock in her mouth. This time he had
been gentle, well at first he had, and oh God, it had been so
good!

Johnson didn't like to kiss. Rafe did. Rafe
could spend hours kissing her, his hot wet lips making her heart
sing and her legs turn to jelly. Johnson liked to fuck, or have his
cock sucked but he didn't like to kiss. So what was he doing right
now? He seemed to be holding her face in his hands and coaxing her
mouth open with his soft lips, his tongue wrestling with hers. And
it turned out he was very good at kissing, but that was hardly
surprising.  He was very good at everything.

Charlotte had found him packing the Earl's
clothes into two big trunks, his coat jacket abandoned and the
sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. He had ignored her for a
while and continued with his task giving her time to admire his
perfect profile and the way he bit his top lip and grunted when he
was concentrating. She had noticed that little habit before when he
had been concentrating on something else altogether and it made
Charlotte catch her breath remembering.

Eventually she had broken the silence by
finally plucking up the courage to ask, “Johnson? Why is Rafe going
to Derbyshire?”

“
His Lordship?”
he had asked not looking away from what he was
doing. “I think he's met a woman. At least, I'm presuming he has
because I can't think of any other reason he would venture up
there.”

Charlotte just stared at him, until he
finally looked at her, and shrugging his shoulders said, “Might not
be serious. He's always chasing some piece of skirt or
other.”

Charlotte's throat suddenly constricted under
Johnson's impassive gaze and to her horror, she could feel tears
pricking her eyes, then before she could register what he was
doing, Johnson took two steps towards her and she was in his arms,
his warm hand stroking her hair.

“
Oh Charlotte, my love,” he said gently.
“
Don't fall in love with
him, please. He won't treat your tender heart kindly.”

Pressed into his sweet smelling chest,
Charlotte wanted to tell him it was already too late but instead
she breathed in his heady scent and relaxed under his stroking hand
like a cat.

“Believe me,” he said. “I know.”

She lifted her face up to his, but before
she could ask him what he meant he had taken her lips in a kiss
that was at first gentle but soon became far more fervent. He
didn't let her come up for air for quite some time and when he
finally pulled away he trailed his finger across her swollen lips
and said, “Are you ever going to call me Eddie?”

Her mind was too muddled to reply, she
merely took hold of the lapels of his waistcoat and pulled him
back to her lips, feeling the delicious warmth of his mouth until
her head finally cleared and she registered what she was doing, and
reluctantly pulled away. His dark eyes looked glazed when he opened
them, and her fingers were still gripping his lapels.
“Charlotte...” he began to say, but she pulled her hands away as if
burnt and took a step backwards.

They stood a foot apart staring at each
other. Johnson's chest was heaving under his white shirt and
Charlotte stared at him warily then drew a hand across her mouth as
if trying to wipe away the kiss. Something fleeting and dark passed
across Johnson's eyes and then he reached out and taking hold of
her waist with his strong hands, he said in an almost cruel tone,
"I haven't finished." He pulled her hard against him so she could
feel the swell of his cock even through her skirts, and his mouth
descended on hers once again, but this time with no tenderness.
Pressing her harder against him, he forced his tongue between her
lips and possessed her mouth in a less than subtle show of his
strength.

 “
We're not over until
I've fucked you again,” he growled into her mouth, “Fucked you good
and hard.”

Charlotte should have been frightened by his
sudden change in mood and she tried to push against him
half-heartedly but his hot words were wreaking havoc on her already
inflamed loins.

His tongue licked her neck just below her
ear lobe. “I need to take you hard so that when I'm in Derbyshire I
can jerk myself off remembering how you felt, all hot and wet and
coming round my cock.”

Charlotte groaned as his hands left her waist
and grasped hold of her bottom through her skirt, grinding her
against him as his hot lips and tongue fed on her neck and then
lower to the buttons of her bodice.

“
You are one delicious piece, Miss Kemp. I
can't wait to get inside you again. I am going to fuck you for so
long you won't be able to walk for days.” His fingers deftly undid
the buttons down her dress and he tugged her breasts free of her
corset as he continued his stream of filth. “My prick is going to
stretch you wide, split you in two. I'm going to hammer it in until
you're begging me to stop.”

What had happened to the gentle, patient
Johnson of the day before? What an exasperating, unpredictable man
he was but Charlotte didn't care because this Johnson was about to
make her come just from his voice alone, and his hot mouth on her
nipples.

“
Get this fucking dress off,”
he said, tugging at her
sleeves. “I can't wait any longer. I'm about to fucking burst,
you've got me so worked up. My cock's so fucking hard.”

He scrabbled at the fold in his breeches as
Charlotte inelegantly struggled out of her dress. Who would have
thought that it was only yesterday when she had been embarrassed to
undress in front of him? Now all bashfulness had gone. What they
had shared in that cottage had put paid to that.

He had dropped down into the chair behind
him, his engorged prick sticking straight up out of his breeches
and waving slightly in the air. “That's it, Miss Kemp, you filthy
whore,” he said with none of his usual teasing humour. “Get that
pussy over here and ride this big cock.”

Charlotte chose to ignore his provocative
words. She was far too desperate to sink down on him again and feel
that all consuming closeness, his hands on her bare flesh, his
hardness filling her, torturous thoughts of Rafe banished. Johnson
was about to leave for the North and she would not have to face him
afterwards. There was just something about him and what he did to
her that she was powerless to resist. The connection between them
seemed to go beyond rational understanding and she had given up
trying to understand it.

He dug his fingers into her hips and
groaned loudly as he smoothly impaled her, stretching her as wide
as he had promised. She threw her head back and moaned, clutching
his shoulders as he lifted her up and then back down, sliding her
up and down his cock until she could feel the tension inside her
building. He pulled her up so just the tip of him was still inside
her and she wriggled her hips dragging a loud moan of ecstasy from
him. “Oh god yes, just like that,” he grunted. “Just the tip,” as
she continued to massage his sensitive glans, then with a louder
groan he thrust his hips and slammed up into her, over and over
again until the sensation of her cream flooding onto his balls made
him come too, shouting her name and digging his fingers so hard
into the flesh of her hips he would leave bruises.

Charlotte lay slumped on him, her lips
pressed against his neck for quite some time, their breaths coming
in synchronized heaves, the smell of his sweat making her
lightheaded. Eventually, he tried to move but this was difficult
since he was still inside her, and still half hard, and she was a
boneless mess.

“
Get up,”
he grunted, taking her by the waist, gently this
time and attempting to extricate himself. Her green eyes drifted
open and settled on his swollen lips. “Blazes,” he sighed, his cock
growing harder inside her. Her lips drifted towards his, and he
closed his eyes then opened them again. “Alright then, we'll have
another fuck. In bed this time. His Lordship's bed,” he said, his
cock twitching at the thought. “But then I have to finish that
packing and be on my way.”

Charlotte smiled woozily and kissed him while
he held her by the bottom and smoothly stood up. Still impaled on
his cock, she wrapped her legs around him and he walked across the
room and collapsed on top of her onto the bed, kissing her back
until they were both panting and her hands were snaking under his
clothes trying to get at all that muscle.

“
You'll be the death of me,”
he said as braced himself above
her and gave one smooth thrust so he was encased in her heat. “I
could fuck you forever.”

Charlotte looked up at his handsome face
above her and felt herself melting into the bed, Rafe's bed she
remembered with a jolt, but was by then far too well serviced to
even feel guilty.

Chapter
29

The Earl is
Trapped

In which our
regency rake falls headlong into a trap.

The Earl of Langham could hardly believe he
was in Derbyshire, mere miles away from the place he had spent most
of his adult life avoiding. The journey here had been bearable, far
more bearable than he had been expecting. He had actually slept
most of the way and now he was greeted by his valet bounding down
the stone steps, his long legs taking them two at a time, a big
grin on his handsome face. He was a welcome sight indeed,
especially since Rafe had not seen him for almost a week. It had
been a frustrating week as well, in which he had been followed
around by his damnable mother watching his every move. And that
teasing minx, Lady Lydia Maitland had ensured he was permanently
half hard with no chance of relief. It had been pure torture but
here he was at Phillip Kerridge's bloody shooting party, having
followed the little siren half way up the country like some eager
lap dog. What on earth had become of him?

Seeing Johnson smiling like that he had an
urge to slake his lust as soon as possible, and not with that sly
cock tease his mother wanted him to marry. He had, in fact, been
tempted to stop off in Hertfordshire and spend a night ramming his
deprived cock up his lovely governess's quim. That would have
fortified him for the days ahead. But here he was, in the devil's
own county having not fucked a soul for six days. His balls ached
so badly he could cry. Johnson, had better sort him out and quick.
There was only one kind of shooting Rafe was currently interested
in.

Johnson heaved two of Rafe's valises under
his arms and mounted the stairs, his buttocks tight under his
breeches. Rafe followed, his eyes glued to his valet's perfect
backside, his cock swelling already. In the bedroom, the cases were
dropped to the floor and Johnson bent down and began to undo the
fastenings, but Rafe had already sunk down onto the big feather bed
and was ripping at the fold in his breeches.

“Leave that,” he ordered. “Come and suck my
cock.”

Johnson slowly turned his dark head and
regarded Rafe with an unreadable expression. Rafe had managed to
wrestle his phallus out of the confines of his breeches and it grew
thicker in his hand as he ran his thumb down the veined shaft.

 “I want your mouth on me now,” he
gasped. “I need to come!”

By God, he was almost begging! What on earth
had become of him, indeed.

Johnson just returned to undoing the cases,
bending his knees and squatting down so his flexing backside was
fully on show. Rafe almost groaned at the sight.

“
Jerk yourself off, my Lord. I'm busy,” he
said.

Rafe was shocked by Johnson's refusal to
follow orders but he was already too far gone to do anything about
it, his fist sliding up and down his cock as he stared at his
valet's broad back and the newly long hair that curled on his brown
neck. He wanted to run his hands through that hair, and grip it
tight as he forced his cock into his wet mouth. Thinking about how
he would slickly slide in and out had him pumping himself faster
and throwing his head back with the agonizing tension. A loud groan
escaped him and he opened his eyes to find that Johnson had stopped
what he was doing and was watching him.

Rafe stared at him with glazed eyes and
said hoarsely, “Please come here.”