Page 79 of The Earl Takes All
“Yes, please.” Why did she have to sound breathless, why was it that he always managed to so easily send her nerve endings rioting?
Cursing the unsteadiness of her legs, she made her way to a chair near the fireplace. He handed her a snifter, and she studied the reflection of the flames in the glass, in the amber.
“To new beginnings,” he said, raising his own snifter.
She looked over at him, lounging back in the chair, so causal, so comfortable. Always at ease with himself, always confident as to his place, even when that place had been as second son, younger brother. Even when that place had been pretending to be Albert.
After taking a sip of her drink, she set it aside, turned her attention to the book resting in her lap—and burst out laughing. “The Husbandry of Sheep?”
“There’s an excellent chapter on breeding, quite titillating.”
“You’ve read it?” She didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.
“At Havisham Hall it was the most risqué reading we could find. I was quite good at embellishing the narrative whenever I read it to the others.” He held out his hand. “Would you care for me to demonstrate?”
Smiling, she shook her head. “How did I ever believe for a single second that you were Albert?”
“Because the alternative was unthinkable, and that’s what I was counting on.”
And now the thought of him being dead was unthinkable. She set the book aside, picked up her glass, took another sip. “What if Allie is the only child, healthy and strong, I shall ever bring into the world?”
“I don’t want you for your breeding capabilities.”
But he should. Now that they knew the troubles that plagued her, she was an awful choice for him, for a man who needed an heir.
“That said,” he began slowly, “I very much want you for the act that leads to breeding.”
He spoke of mating as though it wasn’t something that should be limited to beds and darkness. Her face warmed with the thought of them finishing what they had merely begun. “You’re a bad influence.”
“You like that about me.”
She did, but it was more than that. “There are aspects to myself that cause me to experience a sense of shame. I am left with the impression that in a similar circumstance, you would experience no humiliation.”
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his thighs, his hands cupping the bowl of the snifter as though it were an offering. “I’ve always been of the opinion that what people do in private is of no one else’s concern.”
His gaze was so intense, practically boring into her, and she had to fight to hold it. “What if I wanted to do something that you found disgusting?”
“Such as?”
Why had she traveled here? “You are already quite familiar with my penchant for whispering naughty words.”
“Based on my reaction that unfortunate night, I should think you would be well aware that I have no objections to any words you would utter. Some of my favorites are naughty ones. Words should bring you no shame. What else?”
Taking another sip, she realized she hadn’t really considered his reaction that night. She’d been angered by his deceit, mortified that he’d heard her words, but it was her own shame that had prompted her reaction. He’d never given her any cause to experience a sense of degradation. He’d never teased, chastised, nor tormented her for the folly of her actions. She circled her finger around the rim of the glass. “Sometimes, I think about putting my mouth where I shouldn’t.”
“Where exactly?”
“Your—” She nodded toward his lap, or tried to.
“My cock?”
She glowered at him. “You say the word with such ease.”
“It’s a good word. Trust me, I would not take offense if you put your mouth there.”
“I’m not talking about putting it on the word, but on the object. And I don’t know why you make me think such wicked things.”
“Look at me.”
