Page 28 of Forgetting the Earl
“I’m very good at mapping out uncharted areas.” His mouth claimed hers again while his fingers, dear lord, his fingers were tangling in the hair of her mound. The butterfly touch across her flesh that followed forced a small whimper to leave Honora’s throat. The briefest brush of his thumb against a very sensitive, swollen part of her caused her to jerk. Her legs splayed further apart.
“Gideon—I.” Honora had no idea what she was asking for. Her entire body felt tight. Coiled up like a spring. A cry left her as a finger sank inside her, thrusting gently while his thumb toyed with the small nub hidden in her folds. She shamelessly rocked her hips forward, wanting more.
Another finger plunged into her.
“Please.”
“I would deny you nothing.” Southwell’s mouth slanted over hers as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mingling, before his fingers curled inside her, his thumb flicking against her with exquisite care.
A slow roll of the most indescribable bliss rippled down Honora’s limbs. Her back arched, hips desperately trying to press further into his hand. She cried out his name so loudly the birds above them fluttered and squawked before flying away. Pure pleasure rained down on her, the sort she’d never imagined or even considered.
Southwell held her in his arms until the last tremor left her, pressing an almost chaste kiss to her lips. His fingers slid from her body. His hand cupped her mound possessively for a moment before trailing back down her leg and straightening her skirts.
“Gideon,” she whispered, opening her eyes to gaze into his.
“No one else.” The dimple deepened in his cheek.
The unintended truth of his statement punched through the pleasure still ebbing from her body. All other men paled next to the Earl of Southwell. How foolish she’d been to assume she could merely seduce him and toss him aside. That there would be no cost to her. Hurting Gideon would stay with Honora the rest of her life.
And she wasn’t sure any longer if she could do it.
He lay down beside her and tucked her into his shoulder, one elegant, capable hand stretching possessively across her stomach. The bits of amber in his eyes sparkled in the sunlight as he and she gazed at each other.
Honora’s fingers curled into his coat, her body acknowledging what her mind continued to deny. On that long-ago night, she’d stood before him, unappealing and awkward, and felt…connectedto him. It was why she’d been so devastated by his part in Tarrington’s wager. The connected feeling was back. Stronger. Tighter. As if someone had knotted her to him.
The thought crossed her mind that this entire day might be part of a larger wager on the part of Southwell and Tarrington. After all, she only had his word that they were no longer friends. What if—
“Stop, Honora.” He cupped her face, pressing a tender kiss on her lips. “No more conversations with yourself. Or rather, by the look of your face, arguments.”
Another shiver went through her at how accurately he’d guessed at her thoughts.
Could she allow herself to trust Southwell? It would mean setting aside the very emotions that had sustained her for so long. Emmie would be furious and declare Honora a complete idiot.
That was the problem with revenge.
Letting go of it was incredibly hard.
Chapter Eight
Gideon’s heart beathard in his chest as he looked into the lovely features of Miss Honora Drevenport, his memory of an overly generous figure, corona of puffy black hair, and blemished skin sliding easily over the beautiful woman he held in his arms.
Did she really think he wouldn’t recognize her?
The moment he’d seen her again, strolling seductively across the ballroom in that stunning crimson gown, intent on doing Tarrington harm, Gideon had known her. The jade of her eyes hadn’t changed, or her sharp intellect, only the rest of her. Even if he hadn’t been convinced, Honora’s blithe mention of cartography had pushed aside any remaining doubts.
He pressed another kiss to her lips, savoring the taste of Miss Drevenport. Distrust swam in the green of her eyes. Small bursts of anger, all of which Gideon assumed were directed at him, glittered in the depths. Something mysterious and wonderful crackled between them, but Honora didn’t trust it.
The fault was Gideon’s.
He liked to imagine he would have mounted some sort of rescue for Miss Drevenport, possibly saved her from Tarrington’s petty need for revenge, had he not been on a ship bound for Brazil. It was a lie he liked to tell himself because he was so ashamed of his part in Tarrington’s scheme. Truthfully, the careless, young man he’d once been wouldn’t have lifted a finger for Miss Drevenport, no matter how inexplicably drawn to her he had been. It had been much easier just to push the incident aside and leave for his next expedition.
Drawn.Such a bland and polite way to explain away the sensation that they knew each other on some deeper, primal level. He’d been able to walk away from the feeling years ago but not now. He adamantly refused. Gideon meant to have her. Every ripe, delicious inch of her.
His cock twitched painfully inside his trousers.
“I should return.” Deep pools of fathomless green regarded him. “We don’t want to cause a scandal, my lord.”
“Yes, it is getting late,” he agreed, hating that there was so much left unsaid between them. He suspected Honora’s reluctance in not admitting who she was meant Gideon was destined to receive the same treatment as Tarrington one day. It wouldn’t be a difficult task for Honora. Gideon was already half in love with her.
