He buried his face between her legs and rubbed his cheeks back and forth like a cat. She moaned, her hips working as she did her best to ride his face without any idea of what she was seeking.
He speared her with his tongue and moved his lips against her, providing the friction she needed. She whimpered and clenched around him. If she kept it up, he’d bestruggling for breath, but there was absolutely no chance he was stopping.
He worked her with his mouth and tongue until she stiffened and started to cry out, only for the sound to cut off as she spasmed around his tongue.
He kept his mouth on her as she came down, only drawing back when she sighed contentedly and went lax against him.
She turned her head lazily to meet his eyes. Her cheeks were pink, her pupils blown. “Can we do that all the time?”
He chuckled and adjusted his cock to relieve some of the pressure. “Whenever you like, my little firebrand.”
Grabbing her skirt and petticoat, he started to ease them down, but before he’d gotten farther than her knees, someone knocked on the door.
They both froze.
Nicholas stared at Sophie, his eyes wide. Who the hell was calling on her after she’d retired for the evening?
It had better not be that arsehole Sylvestor.
“Sophie?” Lady Carlisle called through the door.
Hell. It was Sophie’smother. Baron Sylvestor might have been preferable.
Sophie slung her legs off the bed and stood, her skirt falling into place. She motioned Nicholas toward the curtains and hissed, “Hide.”
His mouth fell open. She actually expected him to find somewhere to hide while she opened the door, looking as if she’d just been thoroughly debauched?
Was she insane?
“Go,” she mouthed, gesturing again.
Slowly, he made his way to the curtain and slipped behind it. At least the wardrobe was immediately beside the curtain, so it wouldn’t be so obvious there was someone standing there.
Sophie unlocked the bedroom door and opened it. “Good evening, Mother. Can I help you with something?”
Silence for a moment.
“I just wanted to check on you,” Lady Carlisle replied. “You departed dinner abruptly, and Baron Sylvestor said you were unwell. You look rather flushed, my dear. Let me check your temperature.”
A laugh bubbled from Nicholas before he could stop it. He clapped his hand over his mouth and held his breath, praying like hell that neither lady had heard him.
CHAPTER 20
Sophie scuffedher foot against the floor to cover the noise Nicholas had made. “I am a bit warm,” she said, eager to distract her mother from looking too closely into the room.
She grabbed Lady Carlisle’s hand and put it to her forehead. As she’d expected, her mother frowned.
“You are a touch overheated,” Lady Carlisle said, turning her hand so the backs of her fingers were pressed to Sophie’s forehead. “Perhaps I should sit with you.”
Dropping her mother’s hand, Sophie shook her head. “Betsy is bringing me a bowl of cool water and a cloth. I’ll lie with the cloth on my forehead and try to sleep. My chest and throat are fine, so I’m certain it’s nothing serious.”
“All right.” Her mother moved backward. “Send for me if your symptoms worsen.”
“I will.”
Sophie breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the heavens that her mother wasn’t overly maternal. If she’d been more like Lady Drake, Sophie doubted it would have been so easy to get rid of her.
“Good night.”
