Page 29 of Educated By the Earl (Second Sons of London 1)

Chapter Eight

Tessa had neverbeen kissed before.

When she was twelve, she had once seen two servants in the stables kissing, their lips and bodies pressed together as they both made sounds she had never heard before. Quickly, she had fled, embarrassed by coming across them in such an intimate position. Afterward, she had talked about it with her cousins, all three girls wondering what a kiss would be like. She assumed since both Louisa and Adalyn were both out in society that they had at some point been kissed. Neither woman had mentioned it to her, however.

And now it was her turn.

She didn’t know a man’s lips could be so soft and yet firm at the same time. How she would not only feel his kiss on her lips but that his touch would cause ripples through her entire body. His hands clasped her shoulders, steadying her, as his mouth slanted over hers. Wonderful tingles ran through her, causing her body to heat. She was aware of the heat emanating from him. The spice of his cologne. The warmth of being so close to another.

Then his tongue—his tongue!—slid slowly along her lower lip, causing her to clench tightly between her legs. That place had awakened from a deep slumber and had begun to throb. As Middlefield lazily ran his tongue back and forth, the throbbing pulsated, causing her to gasp. That small gasp parted her lips.

And the earl took advantage of that.

His tongue slid inside her mouth, leisurely exploring it. Exploring her. Tessa had no idea tongues were involved in kissing but she quickly gave over to the notion. Tentatively, she moved hers against his. He made a low noise from deep within his throat, his hands tightening on her shoulders.

Oh, this was glorious!

Their tongues began a playful dance, one that set her sense on edge. Everything seemed more intense. His scent. His taste. His muscles. Oh, yes, her hands had gone to his broad chest, palms flattened against it, feeling the rock-hard plane there. Her body caught fire as one hand moved to her waist, anchoring her as his other hand slipped to her nape, holding her firmly in place.

She could have kissed him for hours.

Then a part of her brain slowly fired, a notion working its way through the haze of excitement.

They were in a public place.

In an embrace.

Kissing.

With tongues.

Panic seized her. Tessa pushed against the earl’s chest and pulled her mouth from his.

“I cannot do this,” she hissed.

Her knees buckled and the earl’s hands quickly steadied her, holding her waist.

“I do not want to be compromised,” she whispered, gazing into those emerald eyes, now burning with what she guessed was desire.

“I understand,” he said, his voice quiet. “Can you stand?”

She nodded and he released her. Tessa swayed a moment but took a step back and locked her knees.

“If someone had seen us . . . if we . . .” Frustrated, she bit her lip, trying to gather her thoughts from the mush her brains had turned to.

She began again. “I do not want to ever be compromised. I would not want you to be forced to wed me. You don’t even know me.”

He smiled. “But I would like to know you, Tessa. Or more about you.”

Blast him and his winning smile.

“You cannot call me by my name, Lord Middlefield. You can’t be doing . . . any of this. We need to leave,” she announced. “I must find Abra.”

“She could be anywhere in the museum. Or perhaps she might have even left to explore the neighborhood,” he pointed out.

How could he sound so reasonable and calm when her heart still pounded and the blood sounded so violently in her ears that she could barely hear him speak?

Lord Middlefield closed the distance between them. He took her arm.

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