Still sucking, she palmed his balls and gave a gentle squeeze. The sweetest permission he’d ever been granted. He bellowed her name, his hips bucking as ecstasy blasted through him. He poured himself into her, and she took it all, sucking him dry and turning him inside out with pleasure. His breath ragged, he ran a hand that trembled slightly over her hair, and she released him with a sensualpop.
“I told you I wanted to taste you,” she purred.
“You ’ad more than a taste.” Seeing the pearly thread that connected her swollen lips to his crown, he felt a fierce and proprietary tug. He thumbed away the wetness, murmuring, “Was that all right? I’m usually more o’ a gentleman, but that mouth o’ yours would tempt a saint.”
“The last thing I want is a gentleman.”
Shadows banked the sultry glow in her eyes, sending a cool prickle over his nape.
He kept his tone casual, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “Why is that?”
“Because I’ve traveled down that path before, and it led to disaster.” Pearl’s gaze was as direct as a blade. “I’ve been with toffs. I’ve vowed never to make that mistake again.”
Surely, she wouldn’t put me in that category.His chest tightened.I don’t even want to be a bleeding duke. Been running from the blasted title for most o’ my life.
He cleared his throat. “How was it a mistake?”
Pain flashed across her features. Then she sighed, scooting next to him. He slung an arm around her shoulders, and they sat with their backs against the headboard. Her brow was pleated, her expression reminding him of the serious conversations they’d had in the past. Not about their relationship—she’d refused to discuss that—but about their shared household responsibilities. What to do about a tardy maid or footman prone to tippling. How to enhance the Angels’ training. How to maintain discretion over their employer’s society.
Truth be told, Hawker respected Pearl’s judgment. She was the first female he’d known, intimately or otherwise, who he could turn to when he had a problem to solve. She could be counted upon to give her honest opinion, even if he disagreed with it. Although their status as lovers was relatively new, Hawker realized that the intimacy and trust between them were not. They’d been building that foundation, brick by brick, for years.
Pearl took a deep breath before speaking. “Before Lady Fayne, I worked at a private club in the East End. It was notorious for putting on female prizefights, and I was one of the best fighters. My first lover was a blue-blooded patron who claimed to be enamored of me. He showered me with compliments and gifts. I was two-and-twenty, a virgin, and curious…so I had relations with him. I didn’t enjoy it, and he soon lost interest. Moved onto another fighter.”
“What a ham-handed idiot,” Hawker said flatly.
Pearl gave him a small smile, which disappeared as she continued. “My second lover was a viscount who was visiting the club on a lark with some friends. One would think I’d be wiser, but once again, I was swept off my feet by a gentleman’s charm. We were together a year, and he made promises to me. At least I thought he did.” Beneath Hawker’s arm, her shoulders rose and fell. “Then, a few days before Christmas, I discovered I was with child.”
Cold premonition slid through Hawker. He held her tighter and waited for her to continue.
“While my lover had secured us a flat, he also lived with his parents in Mayfair. He was spending the holidays with them. He’d told me that his parents were snobs; until he could get them to accept me as his future viscountess, he’d warned me never to go by the house. But I was so excited about the news that I didn’t heed his warning.
“It was Christmas Eve, and his parents were hosting a party. Guests were arriving in fancy carriages, dressed in festive finery, and I heard them talking about the special occasion. They weren’t referring to Christmas but an engagement. Between my lover and an heiress.” Pearl’s tone was hollow. “I saw them through the drawing room window. He was elegant and handsome, dressed to the nines. He had his arm around the waist of a lady who was his perfect match: a fresh-faced blonde swathed in ivory silk, the sapphire ring on her finger so large that I could see it from where I stood on the street below.”
Fury simmered in Hawker at the betrayal Pearl had suffered. He wanted to tear her unfaithful ex-lover limb from limb. Yet he sensed that what she needed wasn’t his anger. This was the most she’d ever revealed about her past, and he took it as a sign of progress. He wanted to encourage more of this intimacy, which felt as natural and right as sharing their bodies had.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I waited until the party was over. When my lover escorted his fiancée and her parents to their carriage, I went up to them. You should have seen his face.” Her mouth twisted. “I told them who I was and that I was with child. My lover denied responsibility for my pregnancy—said I was a lunatic spouting lies. He had footmen remove me from the premises.”
“I wish I’d been there.” Hawker couldn’t help the snarl that escaped him. “Wish I could’ve pounded the bastard to a fare-thee-well.”
“He came to see me the next day. Called me a…a slut. Damaged goods because I’d had a lover before him. He said that I belonged in Bedlam if I believed that a gentleman like him would marry a low-class hussy like me.” Her tone hardened. “That is when I broke his nose.”
“Bounder deserved far worse,” Hawker bit out. “You let ’im off easy.”
“At that point, I just wanted him out of my life. I was scared and alone, but I had this new life inside me, this new hope…” Her tawny eyes glimmered. “Until I lost that too.”
Sorrow and anger swamped Hawker. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to hunt down her demons and slay them one by one. But he couldn’t. He could only cuddle her against him and stroke her back as she soaked his chest with tears. She cried the way she did most things, quietly and efficiently, and her silent shudders wrecked him. Made him want to shelter this delicate, iron-willed woman from life’s woes for all the rest of their days.
Pearl sat up, dabbing at her eyes with the sheet.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling.
“You don’t ’ave to apologize. Cry a river if you want.”
“A river sounds rather extravagant.” A smile ghosted over her lips. “This time of the year brings out the worst in me.”
He remembered what she’d said last year.
