God knows I’ve spent the last year trying to forget her.
“Pearl.” Frustration made her name come out like a taunt. “I’ve always liked ’ow your name sounded on my tongue. Almost as much as I liked other parts of you on my tongue.”
He’d spent sleepless nights fantasizing about her taste. The sweetness of her lips…above and below. Aye, he’d feasted on her that night and craved her every moment since.
Her cheeks reddened; her chest heaved.
He read her tell, catching her hand as it came sailing toward him. Caught her other one, too, before it connected with his face. He steered her backward into a wall, securing her wrists above her head. He leaned into her, pinning her with his hips. While he was bigger and stronger, she was perfectly capable of freeing herself…if she wanted to.
“’Ate my guts, if you want,” he murmured. “But I ain’t letting anything ’appen to you.”
“Why do you care?” she spat.
“Because you matter, Pearl. To me, if not yourself.”
She stared at him, and her bottom liptrembled. Christ, how she fascinated him. She was a contradiction of strength and vulnerability, passion and propriety. Entranced, he watched her protective cocoon unravel, her eyes shimmering with desire. His name left her lips like a whisper of butterfly’s wings. He didn’t need more of an invitation.
He claimed her mouth, and she tasted even better than he remembered. She was like a fine brandy, a sweet burn that blazed straight to his gut. Passion ignited, sucking the breath from his lungs, melding it with her gasp of surrender. When he released her wrists, she slid her fingers into his hair, her needy clutch swelling his stones. Pressing her harder against the wall, he ground his turgid erection against her while he deepened the kiss. Their tongues circled and twined and played. When she caught his lower lip between her teeth, tugging gently, he saw red.
Grabbing a fistful of her skirts, he shoved them up to her waist. With his other hand, he reached between them and found the opening in her drawers. He smothered her moan with his lips as he stroked her intimate seam. Devil and damn, thepassionin this woman. Her pussy was soft and slick; his cock throbbed as her dew drenched his palm.
“You feel even better than I remember,” he growled. “And I thought about this sweet quim constantly.”
Her amber gaze was dilated, desperate. A vast improvement over indifferent.
“Hawker, you shouldn’t say such—ooh.”
Her scolding melted into a sigh as he found her hidden bud.
“What shouldn’t I say, little termagant? That you’ve ruled o’er my fantasies? That I’ve fucked my fist thinking o’ doing what I’m doing now?”
She gave a helpless whimper as he circled her jewel with his thumb. He rubbed firmly, and her thighs clamped his hand like a silken vise. Aye, this was better than talking, trying to reason with her; she responded better to this kind of persuasion. He drove two fingers into her cunny, and her response—the hot, lush clenching—shot an arrow of fire up his spine.
What I wouldn’t give to bury myself inside her.
Craving twisted his gut. But there would be time for that later. Later…when he could do more than grope her in their employer’s study. Reality returned at the precise right moment. Feeling the sweet squeeze of her sheath around his fingers, he knew she was on the brink. And he knew what he had to do.
He pulled his fingers from her pussy. Released her skirts and let them fall into place.
Her bosom surging, Pearl stared blankly at him. He held her gaze and brought his hand to his mouth. He licked her from his fingers, savoring her hitched breath almost as much as her sweet and naughty taste.
“We’ve unfinished business, you and me,” he said calmly. “We’ll sort it out. Be prepared to leave at nine in the morning sharp.”
Hiding a smile at her dazed expression, he strode out.
Four
Only three more days to Northfield,Pearl told herself.Three more days in close confines with Hawker. I can handle this.
The first day of the trip hadn’t been that bad, mostly because Pearl had spent the day in the cabin while Hawker drove. She’d thought that they would take turns driving. Hawker, however, had had other ideas. When she’d offered to take the reins after resting the horses, he’d scowled at her.
“The day you drive this carriage while I’m in it is the day ’ell freezes over,”he’d stated.
On principle, she’d considered fighting him for it. Yet she disliked driving nearly as much as he excelled at it. Hawker, she grudgingly admitted, had a way with the reins. He handled the four Friesians with ease, the powerful black beasts responding to his steady and implacable command. A cold mist somewhere between rain and snow hung in the air and slickened the narrow country road, yet he navigated the vehicle with smooth confidence.
Moreover, it was difficult for Pearl to argue with Hawker whilst simultaneously sticking to her plan to not speak to him. The mortifying encounter two days ago in the study had exposed her weakness and placed her in a dilemma. If she refused to go on the mission, Hawker would have the satisfaction of knowing that he had power over her. If she went on the trip with him, she faced other perils…
The carriage hit a bump, jostling her against Hawker. He switched the reins to one hand and slung a protective arm around her. Held snug against Hawker’s brawny side, his scent of soap and male musk teasing her nose, she felt a jarring sensation.
