Twelfth Night with the Earl (The Sutherland Sisters #3)(39)

He stepped into the tub, stretched out, and then held out a hand for her. “Come down on top of me.”

His voice was rougher than he’d intended, but Thea didn’t hesitate. She stepped into the tub so she was standing over him, her feet between his knees.

Dear God, he was going to explode before she even touched him. He ran slick hands up the backs of her legs and lifted each dainty foot into place above his hips. “Sink down,” he whispered, and wrapped his hands around her waist to steady her.

She lowered herself so she was straddling him, and Ethan sucked in a sharp breath when her hot center brushed against his cock.

Despite her innocence, Thea seemed to know instinctively how to give them both pleasure. Her green eyes burned as she settled her hands on his shoulders and began to move her hips back and forth in a slow, sensuous rhythm.

Ethan hissed. “Jesus. You feel so good.” He buried one rough hand in her hair, gripped her lower back with the other, then leaned forward and caught a nipple between his teeth, biting down gently.

Thea caught her breath and jerked in his arms. “Ah, Ethan.”

Christ, it made him wild to hear his name so breathless on her lips. He bit her nipple to hear her gasp again, then reached down, grasped his cock in his hand and dragged his tip across the tender bud hidden between her folds. “Tell me you want this.”

Thea’s head fell back with a soft cry. “I—I want it. I want you.”

He growled, his hand tightening in her hair. He pushed the head slowly inside her, then stopped, clenching his teeth for control. “Tell me you want all of me.”

Thea gasped and squirmed over him, trying to take him deeper. “I—I want all of you.”

Ethan groaned, then eased in another inch. “You’re mine, Thea.” He moved his hand between her legs and circled his thumb slowly around her, but lightly, only enough to tease her. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Thea let out a sob and her thighs tightened around his hips. “I’m yours. Please, Ethan.”

Her fingernails bit into his neck, and the little sting of pain shattered Ethan’s control. He gripped her hips and pulled her down onto him as he thrust upward, pushing all the way inside her with one fierce stroke.

Thea froze, and then in the next breath, before he could move again, she was coming. The delicious pressure of her body squeezed his aching cock, and he thrust wildly into her, his breath ragged as he was hurled headlong into ecstasy.



“I don’t want to go with you!” Martha stuck out her bottom lip and gave Ethan such a fierce glower he was glad she didn’t have a pitcher of milk in her hand.

A pitcher of milk, or a pistol.

He’d taken the children out for a long walk on the grounds, but he’d decided against any shooting for today. Half of him was still up in bed with Thea—the mental half of him, alas—and three young children and a distracted earl playing about with a loaded pistol seemed a rather bad idea.

Henry and George had decided days ago they’d been all wrong about his lordship, who was a right decent swell, after all, and now they swung along beside him, engaged in a cheerful squabble over whether French or English pistols were more “gentleman-like.”

Martha, however, was a different matter. Her wary gaze was fixed on him, watching his every move as if he were no more trustworthy than a rabid dog.

“I don’t want to go with you!” she repeated, louder this time.

Ah, well. The ladies were always the hardest to win over.

Ethan chose not to point out to Martha that her brothers had gone out with him for the past three days and hadn’t come to any harm. He didn’t know much about six-year-old children, but he suspected they weren’t impressed by logical argument.

“I want Miss Sheridan!” Martha glared at him, and stamped her foot.

Ethan sighed. “I told you, Martha. Miss Sheridan is fatigued and needs to rest. You don’t wish her to become ill, do you?”

“She weren’t ill yesterday.” Martha eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t believe you. What have ye really done with ’er?”

Quite a lot, as it happened, and if he had his way he’d still be doing it right now, and more too, but he doubted Martha would find any of that information reassuring. He raised an eyebrow at the child. “You sound as if you’re accusing me of something, Martha. What do you suppose I’ve done with her? Locked her in a cupboard for the afternoon?”

Martha’s mouth fell open, and tears filled her eyes.

Damnation. The child thought he had locked Thea in a cupboard. “Martha, I was only jesting—”

“Stop yer carrying on, Martha,” George ordered. “Yer acting like a baby.”

“A peahen, more like.” Henry pointed his finger at Martha and shook it threateningly. “Maybe ’is lordship should lock you in a cupboard.”

“No one is getting locked in a cupboard, Henry,” Ethan began, but Martha cut him off with an outraged shriek.

“Ye’re the peahen, Henry! An’ you too, George! That lordship,” she pointed an accusing finger at Ethan. “He said ’e was going to shut down the house, and he knew Miss Sheridan wouldn’t let him do it, so ’e tossed her in a cupboard and locked her in an’ he’s going to leave her there and close up the house around her, and she’ll have no one to let her out and she’ll be scared and alone in the dark and then she’ll starve an’ years later they’ll find ’er, but ’er skin will have all fallen off by then and she’ll be nothing but bones an’ fingernails and long, gray hair, and it’ll be all ye’re fault, ye bad, bad boys!”