Page 16 of An Earl, His Valet, & Their Wife

Katherine trembled, but obeyed. “He kissed me. And touched my b-breast. Then he lifted my nightgown…and smoothed oil down there. It was lovely. But…”

This was a shockingly inappropriate conversation. Yet he had to know, to give Michael guidance.

Liar. You want to do it to her.

“But what?” asked Gerard. “His lordship is shy. A request is better coming from me. Say it.”

“I cannot,” Katherine whispered, yet she didn’t look away. Just peered up at him with those huge green eyes. Yearning eyes.

He knew that look. The lady would share her sexual desires if compelled to do so.

“Then I’ll say, and ye reply aye or nae,” Gerard replied. “Kissing?”

“Yes. But firm, not soft. Lips and neck.”

“And those jewel-hard nipples? Ye want them pinched? Sucked?”

Katherine whimpered, her chest rising and falling. “Both. Yes.”

His mouth watered to oblige. To suck and bite until she screamed. Gerard leaned down, so his cheek nearly touched hers. “Verra well. Now, let’s discuss milady’s hot little cunt. I wager it’s greedy and needs regular pleasuring. A man’s tongue or fingers buried deep again and again.”

The Countess of Whitmore moaned, a guttural sound that arrowed directly to his aching shaft. She responded to blunt talk as well as her husband. “Please…”

“Ye beg so sweetly,” Gerard continued ruthlessly. “But are ye greedy for cock, Katie? Greedy for seed tae grow a bairn in your belly?”

“I’ll take it,” she stuttered. “I’ll be good and take it all, sir.”

It took every bit of his will, but he stepped back. “I shall inform his lordship. He’ll visit after supper, I promise.”

And with that, Gerard turned and walked through the connecting door into Michael’s chamber, wincing as his engorged cock strained against his trousers. He’d gone far beyond the pale with his filthy words. And called the countess Katie!

She called you sir…

Gerard cursed. That could never happen again.

Ever.

CHAPTER 4

“Welcome home, my lord. I trust you had a productive day?”

Michael nodded at his butler as he strode through the front door, rather relieved to be back in his sanctuary. Between the sea of legal documents and the confrontation with his cousin outside Hatchards, all he wanted was some sweets, a drink…and perhaps a few orgasms. That was a combination guaranteed to improve his mood. “I did, thank you, Kenney. Although my eyes are completely crossed after reading a thousand pages of lawyer speak. Where is everyone?”

“I believe Mr. Hunter is upstairs and her ladyship is in the library. Mr. Hunter organized Madame Odette to visit and take her ladyship’s measurements for a new wardrobe. Madame was most pleased and told me to expect the first deliveries next week,” said Kenney, as he took Michael’s hat and cane and carefully tucked them away.

“Excellent,” said Michael, smiling at the fact that Gerry had effortlessly managed yet another issue on his behalf. Of course, no one in London could do this particular task better; Gerry knew everything about fashion and Madame Odette created sumptuous gowns. The women of the ton would be pea-green with envy when Katherine strolled into her next ball.

Damnation. The next ball needed to be their own.

“Are you in for the evening, my lord? Shall I send the carriage to the mews?”

“Yes, thank Christ. Society allows a little respite when one is a newlywed.”

His butler grinned. “Not for long, though. I expect a cart’s worth of invitations to arrive for Lord and Lady Whitmore in due course.”

Michael groaned. “Hush your mouth, Kenney. Perhaps they’ll forget where I reside. Actually, your new role is pretending my wife and I do not exist. This is Mr. Hunter’s house, and no one has ever heard of us.”

“Very good, my lord,” said Kenney, his lips twitching. “Would the fugitives care for tea and sweets?”