The Earl's Wildcat. Krystina DarylЧитать онлайн книгу.
spent one week with them in the abhorrent room they were being held captive. That was the first time she met them and by the end of the week she felt like an elder sister, fighting to stay with them as they cried out for her to save them.
How could she consciously risk their safety? Those cries haunted her every night and she couldn't risk them haunting her for the rest of her life if she made a mistake!
Lydia snuck out of the servants' house and into the main house. She quietly made her way into the Master's room and carefully closed the door. She'd seen him walk into the room only two hours before after she'd ensured Miss Melanie was asleep. When the men had arrived, they asked to have their meals sent to their rooms. Hanna said they all looked extremely exhausted and angry.
That didn't matter to her. She was now face to face with her task. The only thing left was to see if she had the nerve to go through with it.
Lydia took several deep breathes to steady her racing heart and then she wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. If she did cower away, she'd make up the excuse she was there for the dishes.
She rolled her eyes, oh sure, he'll believe that! Picking up dishes at midnight!
She looked around the room. It was smaller than she had expected. Miss Melanie's room was twice its size! She stole a short tour around in search of a hiding place, if—no when—she needed it. There was just the dressing room and the main bedroom. She expected an office resembling Miss Melanie's.
Why would she have an office and he not?
She froze when she heard a loud snort. She took the remaining steps to the foot of the bed, her mouth dried out at the magnificent sight. She couldn't see his face because it was turned away from her and his hair covered his profile, exposing just his clenching jaw. He was on his back, his chiselled hard chest illuminated by the moon. At least she thought it was hard.... soon she would find out.
She wanted to run away at the thought; her guilt of betraying Miss Melanie after she extended her friendship consumed her but so did the cries of her siblings.
Closing her eyes and shutting out farther thought, Lydia stripped until she stood naked. She reached up to her hair and cringed at the voice, he loves long thick black hair, but yours will do!
She pulled the bonnet off and the pins out and felt it cascade down her back, the tip caressing the top of her derriere. She moved to the side of the bed and felt her legs give under her. She grabbed the post for support biting her lips shut to hold the sob in and blinking frequently to keep the tears from spilling.
How could she do this?
She could... she had no other choice.
But she didn't know what she was doing!
It was better to figure it out on her own than taking lessons from that repulsive man. She was glad she said she wasn't a virgin when he asked. The way he stared at her made her feel like he was touching her with refuse!
She took a deep breath and pulled the covers back. She hesitated for a moment...
Lydia, save us!
She shook the fear away, I will... I am...
She crawled in next to him and placed her shaky hand on his warm, hard chest. He stirred then pulled her closer to him, his hand resting on her derriere. She felt a surge at his touch and her breath caught. If it was any other situation she might have enjoyed this.
Ride him! She hissed at the voice. What did that even mean? Maybe she should just touch him. He might think it's his wife and take over the love making.
How you fool! The woman was advancing to her final weeks of pregnancy!
She gently brushed his hair away from his face. He turned giving her his face. She gasped, quickly drawing back her hand.
It couldn't be possible... her Englishman! He was married!
The discovery made her heart ache. For a while she had dreamt of him, imagined him to be her knight in shining armour, but this… this was the last she thought could be possible. Her Englishman had a wife and a child on the way... she was no better than her mother!
"Why?" she cried.
He let out another sigh, squeezed her ass and pulled her closer to him.
The memory of their intimacy filled her, making every inch of her skin he had touched with his hands and lips tingle. They could have easily been like this that first night, if he hadn't discovered her secret and she hadn't angered him.
She didn't blame him—even when he shot Tom with his own pistol, she didn't blame him. They both deserved his anger and disregard.
He would be even angrier when he found her out. A man who shoots another like it meant nothing wouldn't be slow to hit a woman, would he?
She slowly traced her finger lightly down his forehead, his slightly turned nose, to his tan lips and ending at his scarred double chin. No, my Englishman would never hit a woman, spank her, yes. He'd proven that with his hard palm that night, but he'd never truly harm her.
Her Englishman…
She pulled her hand from his chin and turned away as she willed the tears to stay at bay.
Was this fate's cruel joke? To deliver her to the bed of the man she had insulted, of the man who had haunted her dreams, of the man who could never be hers right from the start?
Before she was willing but now she was forced. Whether or not she liked it, he was to be her first.
She moved closer to his face and traced his thick lips with her fingers. He groaned sucking them into his mouth and making her giggle. She quickly covered her lips praying she didn't wake him. Instead his lips spread in a smile.
I've missed the taste of his lips. She thought and without realising what she was doing, she pressed hers against his.
She stiffened when he responded, his hand on her scalp pressing her lips hard on his. She tried to pull away but the hand that was previously resting on her ass was around her waist, holding her hostage.
When his tongue intruded her mouth she shivered and her body relaxed. She didn't even refuse when he pulled her atop him. She moaned when his hands began to explore her length leaving a trail of heat on her skin.
Having his hands on her naked skin was much better than feeling him through her corset... so much better.
"Wildcat," he murmured and she stiffened. How did he know it was her? She'd worn the mask!
Before she could think of anything else, a cry parted her lips when his fingers stroked her core making her body tremble with desire. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his familiar, musky scent. She didn't particularly like it but it was his scent and it was etched in her memory forever.
She found herself under him, and opened her eyes to meet his swirling blue ones. Such beautiful eyes!
"You are not a dream!"
Lydia froze. Her Englishman may not recognize her, but she'd been caught. She should be running for the door but she couldn't, she wanted to be with him!
"Yes, I am." she whispered, her voice laboured.
She gasped when she felt his fingers slide into her delicate folds. When he stroked, she arched her back, digging her nails into his shoulders with a whimper.
All so familiar but this was so much better!
"No you are not!" he growled.
She moved her knee up and came into contact with something long and hard. When he closed his eyes and hissed she knew she'd touched his penis. She shivered, frightened and even more aroused.
"Tonight I am, and in the morning I will go back to being unseen."
He went to move away and Lydia wrapped her hand around his penis. That move stunned him and he ceased moving. He groaned and