In Compromise with the Earl by Ava MacAdams

Chapter Fourteen

Laying in his bed, Oswald’s eyes were closed because his mind was back in the stables, with Aphrodite’s supple body molded to his. He remembered the feeling of her taut nipples on his chest, the plumpness of her kiss-swollen lips and the rife desire in her eyes.

He knew he had pulled himself from her—but God knew he had not wanted to do so. His dreams, however, showed him the truth of his desire.

He’d dreamed of her in his bed, his lips roaming over her bare shoulders, sucking kisses on her neck, taking her nipples into his mouth and slipping down her body to where he could use his lips and tongue to do wicked, erotic, unspeakable things between her thighs for the long night.

He was a hard as steel beneath his smallclothes and his self-control not to pleasure himself at the thought of her was on the verge of cracking. No…I’ll not seduce her. I am not ruled by my damn body as if I was an untried boy.

A sharp hiss escaped him as he imagined sinking into the tight heat of her, but he battled the surges of fire and lust and strange emotions twisting inside his chest. What did he feel for Aphrodite, besides confusion and desire? Was there affection; yes, sympathy, yes, care, a little—jealousy?

The thought of the obsessive Duke laying a hand on Aphrodite and his fist clenched on his bed. He might be muddled about Aphrodite, but he felt strangled at the thought of the damned Duke taking possession of her—but what could he do?

Aggravated, he slipped out of bed and even with desire thrumming through his veins, he grabbed a robe and went to the bathing chamber. Splashing water on his face, he braced his palms on the porcelain bowl and wondered anew, what to do with this precarious situation he was in.

The subtle scrape of his door had his head darting up and he hurried to the chamber, stopping in his tracks. The moonlight from the window turned the thin, white robe Aphrodite wore into silver gauze. Her hair, unbound, tumbled over her shoulders in disarray, the result of possible tossing and turning. For a moment, he doubted his eyes, but when she turned and laid those bright orbs on him, he asked, “What the deuce are you doing here?”

She bit her lip and bolted the door behind her. “I think I have found a way to get Jameson off my back once and for all.”

“You should not be here,” he stressed, grabbing her hand and moving to the door. “You must leave.”

“No, not yet,” she pulled away. “We must talk. I think the solution I’ve come up with will work.”

His jaw worked while his mind raced and finally, with a nod, he dropped her hand, went to his bed and yanked a blanket from it. He draped it over her shoulder. “Temptation, thy name is Aphrodite in silk nothings.”

She blushed and held the blanket tight. “I think if we form a fake courtship, we can get Jameson of my back and Lady Pandora off yours.”

“Lady Fairchild has given up on me,” he shrugged. “Clearly, she thinks I am a lost cause. She might be right.”

“No,” Aphrodite said. “You’re perfect in all the ways that count, she just doesn’t see what is clear to me. You are a diamond in the rough.”

Rubbing his eyes, Oswald asked, “And how long would this fake courtship last?”

“A few months, I suppose,” Aphrodite suggested. “Enough to pose a united front for a while and then we have an amicable separation.”

“And how would that remove the Duke from your life? Wouldn’t he come for you again?” Oswald asked. “And that leaves me in the marriage market again.”

“I’d thought after we broke the courtship, people would take a wide berth and give us some time,” she said. “The only other option is to have a scandal.”

His brows darted up. “A scandal?”

She nodded. “It doesn’t have to be a known for a fact, maybe a rumor—”

“A rumor does not stop one from being unweddable,” Oswald shook his head. “I’m a cuckold, that is more than enough for me, but for you, you would have to be ruined or caught in flagrante delicto.”

She sighed. “I clearly have not thought this through.”

Sympathetically, Oswald cupped her face. “It’s all right, something will work out.”

With his rough hand beneath her chin, he tilted her face up, and maybe it was Aphrodite’s imagination, but his eyes darkened. One arm curled around her while he tilted her head back a little more.

“You know, late night visits from a lady are nothing but temptation.” He dipped and pressed a soft kiss to her ear. “Are you not afraid I’ll ravish you, Aphrodite?”

She felt the sudden hammering of her heart, and the erratic flickering of her pulse in her neck, inches away from where he was nipping on a tender bit of flesh. A soft gasp slipped from her.

“Perhaps I wouldn’t mind if you do ravish me,” came her breathless reply.

He lightly grazed her cheek with his lips and came to her mouth, dipped his head, and kissed her with plundering passion. Aphrodite tipped onto her toes, pressed herself against him and twined her fingers through his hair.

There was force pulling her to Oswald and it was as if her body had a will of its own as she let him gather her in his arms. One of his rough hands threaded into the mass of her hair, and he anchored her firmly to his body as he thoroughly explored the recesses of her mouth.

The pull was insistent and as she rested on his chest, she arched into him, her tongue tangling wildly with his. An unknown, dark, heady desire slid through her veins, rendering her blood thick like honey, and she trembled under its intensity.

His palms slid under her bottom and with ease, lifted her to rest her on the bed. Covering her body with his, she felt sweetly trapped, and she responded to his kiss with greedy sighs.

“Don’t hide from me,” he said roughly. “I want to see these beautiful eyes sparkle when you come undone for me.”

She arched her neck to allow him access, and he kissed along her throat. His broad hand cupped her breast and through the thin cloth, it was if he were touching her bare skin. Her breasts were swollen, rising and falling rapidly, and her nipples were pebbles under his hand.

He did away with the tie of her robe but did not undress her. Instead, he laid his hot mouth over her bud as his other hand molded her breast, teasing the tight nipples beneath the fabric.

She couldn't take the torture much longer. He flicked his tongue, and nipped with his teeth, teasing the bud into full pertness before moving on to do the same to the other. “Don't stop,” she moaned, while gripping his hair.

He blew softly against the wet silk, and she trembled. Looping one leg around his waist, she accidentally opened herself to him and Oswald slid the silk up higher, his gaze dropping to the shapely line of her legs all the way up to the crown of fluffy blonde curls.

“Have you ever been touched?” he asked, throatily.

“No,” her voice trembled, “but I want you to.”

Instead, he found her eyes and asked, “What sort of debauchery do you know about?”

“I’ve read about wicked kisses when men put their mouth on women,” she said breathily. “And when women do the same to men.”

He ran two fingertips along the line of her inner thigh and Aphrodite both trembled and sighed with pleasure. The sigh turned into a gasp when his finger slid up her mound and pleasure radiated from the juncture of her thighs.

A flush of wetness had her eyes flying open and her hands darting to cover herself but Oswald stopped her. “No. Don’t hide from me.”

“I—” she blushed hotly. “What are you going to do? I feel…debauched.”

He laughed lowly. “Not yet, Sweetling.”

With her breath lodged in her throat, she watched as he lifted a leg and began to kiss from her inner knee up to her thigh and then—she bit her lip—at her open sex, his wicked tongue, met and slid through her tender folds with erotic accuracy.

Her hands sunk into his hair while a strangled cry hiccupped in her throat. Pleasure that she had never known existed trapped her virginal body in a cage. Her breath left her in shuddering gasps, and a gasping sob rose in her throat when he licked her again.

He held her legs wide in his hands, breathed a warm breath over her flesh and licked one heated swipe up her before drawing her nub of pleasure into his mouth and sucking hard. Aphrodite’s mouth fell open in a silent scream while she undulated her hips, reaching for something more.

The sensual sensations built steadily, overwhelming her senses, and as she could not take anymore, Oswald eased a finger inside her. He began to move his digit, slowly at first, but steadily as he worshipped her with his mouth. Tremors took her out of the blue, and a sweet cry flew from her mouth as her bliss shook her.

She lay there, trying to hold onto the vestiges of pleasure that sang through her body. When she managed to open her eyes, Oswald was beside her, gathering her into his side. She rested on his chest, relaxing into his embrace, her body luxuriating in the aftermath of unknown, unexpected bliss.

* * *

Tightening his hold on the warm body in his arms, Oswald felt a peaceful sense envelop him, much as the jasmine scent in his nose and on his skin. He kissed a shapely ear while he swam further to consciousness. Opening his eyes, his gaze skimmed over Aphrodite’s face.

She looked so angelic in her sleep, her long lashes a sable line, tipping her cheeks. Her plump lips were parted softly, and her cheeks were a pale rose shade. She looked so innocent, and while the memories of her taste rested on his tongue as she had her first orgasmic bliss, she was still so pure.

He traced her arching brow and tender jawline with his eyes before using her fingertips. “What am I to do with you?” he murmured. “More importantly, what are you doing to me?”

She stirred in her sleep and slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Instead of saying a word, she tilted her chin up and pressed her lips to his. “So, I was not dreaming then.”

“About what you and I did?” his lips quirked. “No, Sweetling, that was not a dream.”

“I have never imagined that sort of pleasure existed,” she whispered.

Tucking an errant hair from her eyes, he watched her eyes before replying, “That was not much. The real ecstasy comes from coupling, and no, Sprite, we shall not be doing that.”

A soft pout took her lips. “How is it that we moved from you not wanting to dance with me that night to me being in your bed?”

His lips twisted. “A convoluted series of unfounded prejudices, unexpected realizations, twists and turns, with a manic-obsessed Duke sprinkled somewhere between, I think.”

She slipped her hands around his nape. “Is it normal to feel anxious in this situation? I have never done this before, you know.”

His lips curved ever so slightly. “Do not worry, I will take care of you.” Her lips trembled at the deep languid kiss, before he pulled away. “It’s nearly dawn, you should be getting back to your chamber before your absence is discovered.”

She blushed. “Parting kiss before I go?”

Obliging, he cupped her face and caught her lower lip between his teeth and stroked over it with his tongue, before driving into her warm mouth, tangling her tongue with his. He pulled back to lavish her lips with soft nibbles and hot suckles.

He smiled. “You should leave. We will meet later and figure out what to do with the dastardly Duke.”

She slipped out of bed while he stood, and she grasped her robe, seconds before a harsh, demanding series of bangs came on Oswald’s door. He sat up in dread, and shot a look to Aphrodite who was standing, fright-stricken, at the foot of his bed.

He slid out of bed, went to her and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me, whatever happens, play along. You can do that right?”

She nodded, while an angry voice came from the door, “Lord Tennesley, open up, now!”

With another stabling look to Aphrodite, he went to the door, slid the bolt back and stepped aside. “What the Hell is going on here?”