Page 59 of This Earl of Mine

“Come for me, Georgie,” he breathed in her ear, and her body convulsed, fracturing in endless joyous beats. Flashes of light exploded behind her eyelids as she dissolved in mindless bliss.

He cursed as her body clenched around him. He gave one last thrust, withdrew from her body, and pressed himself hard against her stomach, holding her tightly in his arms with an incoherent groan. Jets of warm wetness coated her skin as every muscle in his body went rigid. He collapsed in shuddering exhaustion, his bodyheavy on hers, and Georgie closed her eyes as a wonderful, drugging lethargy claimed her limbs.

Sothatwas the “more.”

She smiled sleepily. It was certainly worth the wait.

Chapter 31.

Benedict returned to earth with his heart hammering against his ribs as if he’d faced a squadron of French dragoons. His entire being was suffused with an overwhelming feeling of contentment.

When awareness returned more fully, he realized he was squashing Georgie beneath him. With a murmured apology, he rolled to one side, relieving her of his weight but keeping one arm slung over her body, reluctant to sever contact with her entirely. The scents of their lovemaking filled his nose, and he experienced a surge of primitive triumph.

He let out a rueful laugh. “I meant to go slower than that, you know. In respect for your first time. But things got a little… out of control.”

He’d meant to be gentler, to rein himself in. He hadn’t wanted to frighten her with the full depths of his desire. But her untutored caresses had inflamed him so much that he’d forgotten every intention for a leisurely seduction. He’d been lost in mindless instinct. Lost in the wonder of her.

She gave a sated sigh. “Well, I thought it was perfect.”

He almost purred with satisfaction but couldn’t resist teasing her. “What doyouknow? That was your one and only experience. You don’t qualify for an opinion until you’ve tried it at least ten times. It’s like eating a strawberry bonbon and then declaring it’s positively the best flavor in the world, when you haven’t ever tried lemon or sherbet or cherry.”

“I see your point,” she murmured sleepily. “I wouldn’t want to make any rash decisions. Not about something so momentous.”

“Good. Because there’s still a lot to discover. That was only lesson two.”

He would teach her everything he knew, he thought dreamily. Show her the heights to which she could climb. God, it would be an honor. A delight.

His forearm was still draped over her ribs. She stroked it idly with her fingertips, and the contact sent a soundless shudder of pleasure through his body. After a few moments, he propped himself up on his elbow and used his discarded shirt to clean her belly. She tensed at his ministrations, and a charming blush spread down her throat and across her chest. He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassednow, Mrs. Wylde?”

He glanced at her face and saw her brow wrinkle. She gestured at her stomach. “Why did you…?”

“Pull out?” he finished, shaking his head at her charming naivety. “Because we don’t want any little Wyldes making an appearance in nine months’ time, do we? And that’s one of the best ways to ensure it doesn’t happen.” He studied her expression, searching for any hint of what she thought, but apart from a little frown, her face wasinscrutable. He wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that he’d retained enough working brain cells to finish outside of her body.

Oddly enough, the idea of her round with his child didn’t fill him with horror. On the contrary, it made his chest ache with a strange combination of wistfulness and yearning. She would make an excellent mother, fair and loving. The precise opposite of his own mother.

He shook his head, dismissing the ridiculous notion. The amazing coitus they’d just had must have disordered his mind. There was no future for them, not one that included children. They were simply going to enjoy themselves until the season ended and then part ways as friends.

He pulled the bedclothes over them both and rolled her so she was facing away from him then tugged her close, his body curving around hers so she was cocooned in his arms. She gave a soft sigh and wriggled her bottom against him. To his weary astonishment, he felt himself grow hard again. She had the most amazing effect on him.

Her uninhibited ardor had been immensely gratifying. She’d trusted him to guide her in her first foray into lovemaking and he was fiercely glad he hadn’t betrayed that trust by hurting her or by being selfish.

She gave a sleepy yawn. “I can’t stay much longer. I have to be back before the servants get up.”

Benedict glanced at the clock on the mantel. There were still a few hours until dawn, and God knew, he would gladly spend the rest of them making love to her, but she was right. There was no sense in risking a scandal. Everything she’d done up to this point had been to avoid such a thing. Her coming here had been risky, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

With the greatest reluctance, he drew away from her and left the bed. He slipped on his breeches to spare hermaidenly blushes, then scooped up her simple cotton shift. “Come on, sleepyhead,” he said, tugging on her arm until she sat up, grumbling. “Let’s get you dressed.” He threw the garment over her head, then went out into the sitting room to retrieve her dress and give her some privacy.

It struck him that Georgie was the first woman he’d ever brought here, to his rooms. Despite the rumors about his profligacy, he’d only had two lovers since he’d returned from France, both discreet widows, and each affair had lasted only a few weeks. He’d visited both ladies at their own residences and had always left to spend the night in his own bed. He’d had no desire to linger.

He wished Georgie could stay. He wanted to drift off to sleep with her in his arms, to wake her slowly with a kiss and make love to her again, lazily, as dawn broke over the rooftops.

Impossible.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed when he returned, a rumpled goddess amidst the messy sheets. His heart thudded to a stop. She looked so damned tempting there in his bed that he clenched his fists in her dress to stop himself pushing her back and kissing her breathless all over again. His cock throbbed in silent encouragement.

She was like one of those sirens that lured sailors to their doom with just a smile. He felt a sudden kinship with poor, mythical Odysseus, tied to the mast of his ship, valiantly trying to resist the promise in a glance, the temptation of a song. Her skin was flushed, her lips delightfully puffy, and he experienced a surge of deep satisfaction thathe’dbeen the one to put the pink in her cheeks, that twinkle in her eye.

Georgie sucked in an admiring breath as Benedict reappeared shirtless in the doorway. The man was impossiblyhandsome. His skin glowed with health, and his breeches rested low on his narrow hips.

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