The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance (10 page)

Damn it! How
the hell had he got himself in this position? And then he felt a
small hand ease itself under the edge of his jacket and resting on
his thigh, it ever so slowly edged itself upwards until it
discovered his guilty secret straining the wool of his pants. He
heard Justine De Mornay give a little sigh and tensed as his cock
swelled to its full capacity under her questing fingers. Fuck and
damnation, if she didn’t stop he was going to embarrass himself
more than he had ever done in his entire debauched life.

Keeping his
eyes fixed on William, who was slumped against the carriage wall,
his mouth open slightly and snoring, Rafe shifted and tried to
dislodge his mistress’s insistent hand. But the movement just meant
his hardness was pushed more firmly against her, and she gave him a
confident little squeeze. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from
moaning, and dared to flick his eyes slightly to the right where
Charlotte was still smiling enigmatically. A thumb brushed across
the sensitive tip of his cock and he was horribly aware of his pre
cum soaking into the wool of his pants as Charlotte’s eyes slid
downwards and to the left and looked directly at his crotch.

“Well, we must
be almost there!” he said so loudly that both the women jumped and
Arthur twitched on Charlotte’s knee. “Wake the children, Miss
Kemp!”

The remainder
of the journey was thankfully spent rousing two reluctant boys and
attempting to keep them in good cheer. When they finally reached
the end of the interminable driveway of the house they came to an
abrupt halt and all sat for a moment listening to the driving rain
and contemplating the single umbrella Rafe had in his
possession.

“Justine, I
will take you to the house first and then come back for the boys,”
Rafe eventually decided and he flung the carriage door open and
leapt into the downpour, pulling his mistress with him. But it
seemed the boys were too eager to see their sister and father, and
they leapt after him and ran up the main stairs, not caring how wet
they were getting.

Once he had
delivered Justine through the door, Rafe turned and realised that
Charlotte was still in the carriage, alone.

She was sitting
patiently, her back straight, and her hands in her lap, like the
very picture of a proper little governess. Rafe took one look at
her and dropping the umbrella on the ground, let a feral growling
noise escape from his throat and threw himself into the carriage.
He grasped her face in his wet hands and possessed her mouth with
an uncontrolled fervour. She tasted so good and her mouth was so
hot. Grasping handfuls of hair, he pushed her head back and plunged
his tongue into her wet heat, his knee pressing between her
legs.

Then he slowly
registered her hands attempting to push against his chest and
sounds of protests murmured against his lips. He very reluctantly
pulled his lips from hers.

“Rafe!” she
gasped. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“I am doing
what I have been thinking about doing all the way from London,” he
said, his voice coming out rough and desperate, his knees forcing
her legs further apart.

She gave
another gasp and unsuccessfully tried to dislodge his legs from
between hers as his lips grazed over the sweet skin just below her
ear lobe.

“Don’t you
dare,” she said. “Don’t you dare do this when I have had to witness
your mistress … groping you right in front of me!”

But Rafe barely
heard what she said as his hands found her breasts, heaving under
her thick wool dress and tight corset.

“I’ve had
enough of politeness and courtesy,” he growled as he thrust a hand
under her skirt. “I want you and I shall have you.”

“Rafe!” she
protested again but his fingers had found her hot core, too
insistent to be stopped by the barrier of underclothes and he
roughly pushed inside her slickness, and she cried out and grasped
the straining muscles of his upper arms.

“I could fuck
you right now," he said, "God knows I'm hard enough." And staring
straight into her eyes, he thrust two thick fingers in and out and
felt her tight and wet around him. “I could fuck you right here
where anyone could find us. I don't care." His fingers continued
their insistent thrusting as his thumb found her nubbin and teased
it until she was gasping. “There’s not a damn thing you could do
about it,” he murmured, “I could get my hard cock out and hammer it
into your tight little pussy.” He could feel her clamp around his
fingers at his crude words. She was so wet now he could even hear
the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of her slickness, and
as she dug her fingernails into his arm, he watched her beautiful
eyes close. “Open you eyes Charlotte,” he said softly. “I want you
to be looking at me when you come.”

Her eyes
flashed green in the dim light as he stroked her until she shook
around him and then he wetly kissed her, devouring her mouth, his
thumb still caressing her swollen nubbin until she slumped under
him, all her protests washed away like rain.

They pulled
themselves together enough to exit the carriage and ascend the
steps on unsteady legs. Everyone was too busy greeting the children
and helping them out of wet coats to pay too great attention to the
two slightly dishevelled figures who had taken rather a long time
to appear, but when his cousin Sophie kissed Rafe on the cheek she
gave him a quizzical look. He quickly made his excuses and retired
upstairs, but not before whispering against the governess’s auburn
hair as he passed her. “Tonight ” was all he said and it was a
command rather than a promise.

Chapter
17

The Earl Requires Assistance

In which our
regency rake solves a problem with the help of his resourceful
valet.

The night took
a long time in coming. The Earl of Langham spent the seemingly
endless evening nursing a single glass of brandy and listening to
the wind and rain howling outside. He drank very slowly, wary of
dulling his senses. He had plans that would require him to be
sober, and on top form.

For lack of
anything better to do, he watched Justine de Mornay in conversation
with his cousin Sophie. They were both beautiful women in such
different ways, almost opposite ends of the spectrum. Sophie,
blonde and virginal, Justine, dark and … not virginal, not in the
least. She glanced up and catching him watching her, gave him a
slow smile so seductive and full of promise his cock twitched. She
was a dangerous woman, that one. She looked the very picture of a
refined Lady, so sophisticated in her elegant clothes, so perfectly
and delicately beautiful, but Rafe knew that under that polished
disguise was a woman with a steely determination and a voracious
appetite. He was fast regretting ever succumbing to her charms, and
he was very unhappy about her presence in his Uncle’s house, but
she had recently befriended Sophie and wangled an invite. She had
even managed to secure a place in the carriage in which they
travelled here, leading to the most uncomfortable journey of his
life, squashed in a tiny space with his mistress and the woman he
was so desperate to bed. That woman, Charlotte, had not left his
mind once all night. He could still taste or on his lips. His
fingers still smelt of her. And here was Justine, clearly expecting
some vigorous late night entertainment from the glances she kept
throwing his way. If only Henry Barnes were here to take the job on
for him. Henry would have eagerly distracted her and he had no
doubt she would have enjoyed it too. Henry was a master with
restraints.

Just thinking
about the last time he had watched Henry tie up and whip a very
willing woman had his cock half hard in his breeches and he shifted
in his chair. Somewhere upstairs Charlotte was no doubt retiring
for the night. Maybe she was even undressing right now, unrolling
her stockings down her long legs, undoing the little buttons down
the front of her chemise, peeling it down to reveal lush round
breasts tipped with pink nipples. He suppressed a groan and took a
long swig of brandy. Was this damned evening ever going to be over?
When was it acceptable to retire to his room (or at least pretend
to. He had every intention of going somewhere else entirely)? And
how in hell was he going to get rid of Justine without causing a
scene?

At eleven
o’clock on the dot, Rafe could stand it no more and made his
excuses. He claimed exhaustion but he also weaved slightly across
the room to convince then all that he was far more drunk than he
actually was. He could hear Sophie say to Justine, as he shut the
door behind him, “Poor Rafe. He does like his liquor a little too
much.”

He reckoned he
had a good twenty minutes before the lusty Justine came knocking at
his door so instead of going straight to Charlotte he decided to
retire to his room and freshen up a little first. Seduction was
best conducted when looking one’s best.

The sight that
greeted him when he opened his bedroom door had his cock leaping
back to life. His valet, Johnson was sprawled on a wing chair, his
white shirt open, the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen
gleaming gold in the candlelight, his breeches undone.

Rafe gulped,
and still gripping hold of the doorknob said, “Where did you spring
from?” his voice sounding more than a little rough.

Johnson just
gave him a lazy grin that had Rafe’s cock lengthening. “I just came
back from my mother’s, my Lord. She’s well enough now not to need
me.”

Rafe barely
listened as he watched transfixed as Johnson’s big hand lazily ran
down the ridges of his tight abominable muscles. “Weather’s
terrible isn’t it?” Johnson was saying as Rafe followed the hand’s
path into the open vent of his breeches. “I got bloody soaked.” His
legs spread wider as his hand wrapped around his sizeable cock.
Rafe could see the slippery head emerge from his closed fist. He
licked his lips. “Close the door,” Johnson said.

In a daze, Rafe
did as he was told.

Johnson
maintained eye contact as he said, “Come here and suck my
cock.”

Rafe took a
deep, head clearing breath. Normally, he would already be on his
knees with Johnson’s hands gripping his hair and forcing him down
onto his thick shaft but not tonight. There was only one thing on
his mind tonight.

He took another
deep breath as Johnson continued to gaze steadily at him, his black
eyes hooded and his full lips slightly open, his hand caressing his
ever thickening prick. “I need you to help me with something,” Rafe
said.

Johnson raised
one perfect eyebrow.

“Any moment
now, a Lady is going to come to this room and I need her
distracting,” Rafe explained.

“Is she a
beautiful Lady?”

“Yes, of
course.”

Johnson smiled
and stroked his cock. “Do you want me to fuck her?”

“Fuck her. Suck
her. Do whatever you want but keep her busy.”

“And what will
you be doing, my Lord, while I fuck your friend?”

“That, my dear,
is none of your business.”

“How are you
going to explain your absence?”

“You are going
to take her to her room and fuck her so hard and for so long that
she won’t even notice I’m gone. You’re going to make her forget her
own name.”

Johnson
grinned.

“You can do
that, can’t you?”

“You know I
can.”

Rafe was going
to give Johnson a raise the very first chance he had. And then
right on cue there was a cautious knock on the door.

“Tell her to
come in and stay exactly as you are,” Rafe said and he hurried into
the adjacent dressing room leaving the door slightly ajar.

He heard
Justine’s shocked little “Oh!” quite clearly, but the ensuing
silence had him peaking through the gap in the door.

Johnson was
still slumped in the chair in exactly the same position as he had
left him, his hand still curled around his slick erection and he
was grinning his irresistible, seductive little smirk. No one could
be faced with such a heavenly vision and not want to gaze on it for
at least a little while, and it seemed that Justine was just human
because there had been no slamming of a door or sound of protest,
at least not yet.

Johnson’s eyes
drifted shut as his hand continued its leisurely stroking, up and
down his rigid shaft. Rafe could see the pearly drops of pre cum
oozing from the slit of its shiny head. He was so slick now that
Rafe could hear it, a slipping, sliding noise that had him reaching
down to his own balls and cup them in an agony of arousal.

“Eddie,” he
heard Justine say in her husky voice. “What are you doing
here?”

Rafe’s hand
shot away from his balls and he had to swallow his surprised
gasp.

“What does it
look like I’m doing?” Johnson said, opening his eyes and giving
Justine a look so heated that Rafe almost applauded him.

“Where’s Lord
Fairburn?”

Johnson just
shrugged and stretching his legs out further, tugged his breeches
down a little so his cock sprang completely free, and lay against
his tight belly.

“Who needs Lord
Fairburn when you have this?” he asked, looking down at his stiff
cock and running his thumb across its glistening head. “It’s all
yours, my Lady,” he said fixing her again with his wicked dark
eyes. “But you already know that don’t you?”

Rafe was
rapidly changing his mind about the raise as he heard Justine’s
skirts swishing and she came into view. What the hell had they been
up to? And when and where had they done it? Rafe never minded
sharing one of his mistresses, and Johnson was usually his first
choice when it came to inviting an extra participant into his bed
but to play around behind his back? He wasn’t sure how he felt
about that. He didn’t know whether to be turned on or furious.