“I am, my lord.” She barely hesitated. “I am now.”
“No.” He took her mouth again, his hand simply working her through her breeches, though he made her shatter too quickly, wound so tight he hadn’t even needed to stroke bare flesh.
God, she was too much.
She broke from him then, her eyes meeting his with a look he’d not seen before as she dropped from his lap to her knees and surprised him utterly, parting his legs to slip in between, lips willing to kiss and caress what only that morning she’d been terrified to do.
He struggled for control, her hot mouth on his member suddenly too much for his senses, his all-too-fast release embarrassing. As if he were powerless to resist her.
Wells leaned back in his chair, breathing hard, and watched his mistress lick her lips, a hint of triumph in her eyes. Was Cuthbert right? Would she now use him too well? He searchedhis mind for an answer. Or was she simply awakened to him, as he’d hoped she might become? He didn’t know and almost didn’t care. He exhaled, tangling his hand in her hair as she tucked him back into his trousers and laid her head upon his lap, breathing hard yet herself. They remained that way a moment longer in silence.
“Why am I not ready, my lord?” Charles broke their quiet.
He was again surprised by her. “Because of this morning, Fox. I do not wish to scare you more.”
“But I am no longer frightened.” She lifted her head from his lap.
“I would rather not test that theory.” He grimaced.
“Then how will you know when I?—?”
“I’ll know.”
“But that is not an answer that is?—”
“Hush, girl, trust me to know.”
“Trust is earned, my lord.” Her brow creased.
“Like respect, yes, we’ve established this already.” He pulled her onto his lap again, though she winced to sit on his knee. He adjusted her slightly, till she was made more comfortable.
“You have pleased me greatly thus far, let us leave it at that, and let us endeavor to please one another further, yes?” He turned her chin to look at him.
“Yes, my lord.”
“You enjoy me a little now, I take it?” His look tested as his finger traced her lower lip, the swell of her bosom rousing him anew.
She blushed. “I am not immune to your charms, it seems, sir.”
“I see.” He smirked. “Not immune, good, though I shall have to try harder to get you to actuallylikeme, no doubt.”
And it was her turn to smile, a spark in her eye. “I like that you intend to try, my lord.” Her smile became a veritable grin. “As if you wished to court me, rather than command me.”
Wells laughed before he kissed her again hard, savoring her awhile, leaning her back to demand her full surrender. “A fox is wooed before it is tamed, yes. And I’ve a feeling that to command you, Charles, a degree of taming need happen first.” He fondled her more, pinching a nipple almost roughly as he added, “Though it would be wise, Miss Merrinan, you not forget your place in the natural order of things.”
“I’ve no illusions as to my position here, Lord Wellesley.” She stiffened slightly upon his lap. “My allegiance to your lordship is no longer in question.”
“Good.” He continued to pet her. “Then let us speak now as to your other duties to me here, for it is not all play we will engage in, miss, but work, too.”
She leaned in to tickle his ear with a low, heated breath, breasts falling dangerously close to his lips. “It is my pleasure to obey you, Lord Wellesley,” she whispered in a seductive, sultry tone.
And with a groan Wells fell to feasting on her anew, all thought of work having utterly fled his mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Eleanor Merrinan carefully poached two eggs for her father, the way he liked them, then sighed deeply, wishing Charles were home to enjoy this rich breakfast too. Why had she not come to see them, and what was she up to at the Abbey? In what position had she found work? Eleanor shook her head, worried.
She had just set a plate before Papa, who’d asked three times already where Charles was, when a knock surprised, too early still for callers.
