No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(59)

Good God but he would embarrass himself in a moment. He could hardly stop himself from imaging those small, white teeth moving just a fraction to the left and scoring his bare chest.

Unfortunately, she chose that moment to glance up at him. “All done.” Her smile faded when she saw the look on his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he grit out, leaning toward her and wrapping his good arm around her waist. When she gasped in surprise, he said again, “I’m sorry.” His mouth took hers in a fierce kiss. She stiffened in his arms, her lips tight and unyielding. But as the kiss deepened, she became more pliant. Her body melted against his, and her lips softened. She returned the kiss tentatively at first and then she was kissing him back, her passion as hot as his. He growled and pulled her closer, needing more of her, wanting all of her. When that didn’t satisfy, he lifted her and hauled her onto his lap.

Her hands dragged through his hair, and his hands held her waist and splayed upward until the tips of his fingers brushed the swell of her breasts. He waited for her to protest, but she only continued to kiss him, her tongue delving into his mouth and twining with his. And then as though the decision was made for him, she leaned into him and her breasts filled his hands.

What was a man to do? He cupped them, moving his thumbs until they traced the points of her nipples through the thick fabric of her gown. He traced the nipples, still kissing her, until he felt them pebble and harden. With a moan, she leaned back and looked at his face. Her breath came fast and hard, and her face flushed when she looked down at his hands, moving in circles over her rounded flesh.

She did not tell him to cease, and Neil had the impression that he might not be the first man she’d allowed this liberty. She was an earl’s daughter. She’d been to balls and fetes and soirees. More than one man had probably pulled her into a dark alcove to kiss her, then try for more.

Her eyes closed briefly as his thumbs brushed her nipples. “You like this,” he said quietly.

“I shouldn’t.”

“You were made to experience pleasure.”

“I have a house full of orphans to care for. I don’t have time for pleasure.” She began to wriggle off his lap, which only made him want to keep her there.

“You can make time.”

“No.”

He had to allow her to pull away. He’d been raised as a gentleman. He knew when a lady resisted, a gentleman released her. He also knew he would not have this chance again, and whereas before, one woman was the same as another, now this woman was the only one he wanted.

And of course this was the woman who did not want him.

Neil released her, disappointment surging through him. He hadn’t expected to feel such fierce regret at having to let her go. In the past few days, he’d seen her frustrated, angry, amused, and nurturing. He’d also seen her aroused, and that was the look he liked best on her.

He held his arms out, a gesture designed to prove he would not attempt to keep her against will. Instead of pushing away from him, she sat motionless on his lap.

Was it his imagination or did she hesitate? Perhaps she was not so certain she wanted to be free of his embrace.

“Wait,” she said, her voice quiet and hesitant.

Neil’s heart began to pound, and he had to hold his arms at his sides to keep from wrapping her in them once again. She did not move, and after three thudding heartbeats, Neil swallowed. “Wait?”

She shook her head. “I was right to begin with. Stop.” But she didn’t rise or make any move to pull farther away from him. Instead, her gaze met his. He saw a wariness there he’d seen in her eyes when she’d looked at him before.

“Who hurt you?” he said, thinking aloud, the words free before he could rein them in.

“No one,” she said immediately.

“Did some man force you? Did he physically hurt you?” His arms circled her, the gesture purely protective. “Tell me his name, and I will see that he receives the punishment he is due.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you, noble knight, but I wasn’t accosted. There’s no one who hurt me.”

Neil could see in the way she shifted her gaze that she lied. And whatever it was she hid, that was the key to everything.





Fourteen


She wasn’t being completely honest. She had been hurt. Her heart had been torn from her body and stomped on not once but twice. But that pain, that injustice, was not of the kind he spoke of. He thought some man had forced unwanted attentions on her. That wasn’t it at all, though she was not so innocent that she didn’t know some men would take as much as they could if given a chance. Even gentlemen were not averse to demanding that pleasure bestowed be repaid.

“But you don’t trust me.”

She looked up from where her hands had fisted in the material of her day dress. She was painfully aware she still sat on his lap, painfully aware she should not be there, painfully aware of the hard length of him waiting to press against that most intimate part of herself if she only scooted forward slightly.

“Trust you how?”

“To stop when you ask me to stop. To release you when you say no.”

Her cheeks heated. “We should not be discussing this.” And yet she could not make herself move away from him. His arms still encircled her, and she loved that he held her. She wanted to move closer, put her head on his chest, press her lips against his bronze skin because of one thing she was certain—he was absolutely magnificent. When he’d removed his shirt, her legs had gone weak at the sight of all that perfect, golden skin. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his waist flawlessly tapered, his chest tightly muscled, and his abdomen taut and flat. He looked every inch the knight, the warrior of the storybooks.