Page 57 of West End Earl
“Lord Carlyle, well met. Leaving the archery field so soon?” The baron’s overly familiar jolliness felt forced, and Miss Cuthbert pasted on a false smile. It was obvious they’d been bickering, and Cal wanted nothing more than to leave them to it.
“Something rather pressing came up, I’m afraid. But please join the others and enjoy.” Cal refused to slow and encourage conversation. “Miss Cuthbert, might I suggest asking the Duke of Gaffney for assistance with your quiver and bow? He should join the party shortly and won’t steer you wrong. You’ll be trouncing the others in no time.”
Once inside the house, Phee turned toward the stairs that led to their rooms, but Cal redirected her with a hand low on her back. “Too far away. Library.”
The heavy oak door slammed closed like a thunderclap under the weight of their bodies crashing together. Their first kiss clashed teeth and lips, with tongues tasting gasped words of encouragement. Keeping one hand against the door, Cal used his other to fumble for the buttons on Phee’s breeches.
The only thought driving him was getting inside her immediately. Desperation overrode finesse, but when he sank two fingers into the curls between her legs, the heat of her welcomed him. Pillowy lower lips wrapped around his fingers, and they moaned together.
“So wet, love,” he managed to say.
“More,” Phee demanded, riding his fingers.
The logistics made him swear. “This would be so much easier if you were in a gown.” She froze, and he could practically hear her brain whirring. Hell and blast. First running into the baron, and now he stuck his foot in his mouth. The mood could take only so much before it broke entirely.
He rushed to reassure her. “But then I couldn’t lust over these long legs and perfect arse all morning. The boots will take a bit to get off, though.”
Phee latched her lips onto the side of his neck for an openmouthed nibble that sent his knees trembling. “Easy enough to fix that,” she said against his rabbiting pulse, then turned and pressed her bum against Cal’s bulging placket.
Dragging her breeches down her thighs, Cal murmured, “Bless you, gorgeous woman.” His buttons gave way, and within seconds their groans mingled.
With their hands against the door, they set a pace ruthless in its efficiency. Her body drenching his, Cal wished he could strip her bare to enjoy the long lines of her arching before him. The slapping sound of them coming together matched the pounding of his heartbeat. Every noise she made as she met him thrust for thrust flung them closer to a finish line they both needed.
Releasing one of her hands, he sank his fingers into her damp curls and nearly came when he felt where their bodies joined. The wet slide of him diving into those tender folds was the most erotic thing he’d ever felt. It looked even better. Intimate and slightly obscene in the most delicious way.
He circled and flicked with the pad of his finger the way she liked, painting her clitoris with the slickness they’d made. As if flying apart one layer at a time, she shuddered, peeling away artifice and manners, until all that remained was the two of them wallowing in sensation.
Tremors racked her body. Her head rested against the wood door as if it were too heavy for her neck. Breath escaped her in whimpered gasps as Cal rode out her orgasm, shaking when her body milked him with her pleasure. Burying his face in the side of her neck, he slapped a palm against the door and thrust once, then twice before following her into oblivion. With his knees locked behind hers, they stayed pressed against the oak as they regained their breath. Her body was warm and languid around his cock, and he’d never felt anything so right in his entire life.
Abruptly, she turned her head and hissed, “You’re still inside me.”
He kissed her cheek. “You feel amazing.”
Phee wiggled away, pulling on her breeches with jerky movements. “No, you didn’t pull out, and we didn’t use a French letter.”
Her meaning slammed into him, but instead of panic, a wave of calm washed over his heart. Which proved once and for all there weren’t any lingering doubts about his feelings. He loved Phee. Strong, resilient, complicated Ophelia owned his heart, for better or for worse. Watching her grow with their child and raising a family together didn’t scare him in the least.
But the timing couldn’t be worse, and she’d never said a word about children except to ask him to take precautions. Which he’d failed to do. “Fuck.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what just happened.”
Shaking his head, Cal scrambled for words. “No, that was more than—well, yes, but—” And to think, he’d once thought himself smooth with women. Phee undid him on every level. He sighed and tried again. “I’m sorry. You asked that I minimize the risk of a baby, and I didn’t do that. The last thing I want to do is put you in a position where you feel trapped with me.”
She tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look he couldn’t interpret. “You’re not upset?”
“No, love. Besides, it was my fault. Whatever happens, we handle together.” He smoothed the groove between her eyebrows until the lines softened.
“All right. We handle it together.”
She kissed him, light but lingering, and Cal sank his fingers into her fiery puff of hair, holding her close for another moment. “I love you. Whatever happens in our future, I welcome it if you’re by my side.”
For the rest of his days, he would remember the smile that crept over her face. It started in her eyes before finally lifting her cheeks and curving her mouth. “I love you too. I want a future with you,” she said.
They sank together against the door in a kiss. Several minutes later, she murmured, “We should return to your guests. Are you sure there isn’t something I could be doing to help? It feels odd to not have a job while I’m here.”
And have her tangled in the middle of all this? She had enough of her own worries. “No, love. Take this time to relax.”
Putting themselves to rights took a moment or two, but in the end, they were both presentable—although the color of Phee’s cheeks was like a flag declaring her freshly tumbled, and he couldn’t stop smiling. As long as they didn’t meet anyone in the halls on their way out of the house, they should be fine. Cal squeezed her hand, then let go as he opened the door.
