It seemed rather a stretch of imagination now to think that his current taciturn mood was in any way due to her.

  “You are such a dear child.” The older woman’s smile was full of affection.

  “But I truly do not understand.”

  “I know you do not,” Lady Margaret indulged. “Go to your duke, Evie,” she encouraged. “But remember what I have said about the intensity of his passions. He is like…like an iceberg, with only one tenth of him showing above the surface.”

  “That does not sound very pleasant or in the least enticing. Nor is he my duke,” she defended.

  “Oh, I think you will find it to be very enticing, if you let it,” the older woman drawled.

  Evie’s jaw tightened. “I have told him, and I shall tell you the same: I have no intention of becoming any gentleman’s mistress, not even a duke’s!”

  Lady Margaret’s eyes widened. “You told Lincoln that?”

  “I did,” she stated uncompromisingly.

  “Of course, you did.” Lady Margaret stood up to give Evie a hug before lightly grasping her arms and holding her slightly away from her. “I should have noted before this that you are now a fully grown and beautiful woman with a mind of your own rather than the normal childish rebellion you had shown in earlier years.” She smiled encouragingly. “But you can have no idea what the duke’s plans are for you once we reach London.”

  “I believe he intends to find me a husband,” she snapped.

  “Perhaps he does,” the other woman murmured softly.

  “I shall not marry anyone I do not love.” As she now believed herself to be very much in love with Hunter, that meant she would never marry.

  “Being an old maid is not pleasant, Evie,” Lady Margaret assured seriously. “It is lonely at best and precarious at worst when situations change and one does not even know where one will reside next.”

  “No matter what, you shall always have a home with me,” Evie maintained firmly. “We shall find a cottage in the country to rent and be two old maids together.”

  “Idyllic as that might sound,” her companion said with a chuckle, “I sincerely doubt that will be your fate. In any case,” she continued briskly, “I have no doubt this evening, at least, I shall be fast asleep in my bed by the time you return.”

  “I intend to stay only long enough to ensure that Hunt…the duke, is not suffering from any emotional or physical malaise.” Her cheeks warmed at her familiarity.

  Lady Margaret looked as if she were about to make a comment, but then changed her mind. “Intentions can change on a whim.”

  Evie was almost certain she knew what Hunter’s intentions were regarding her. She really had become something of a nuisance to him these past few weeks, severely upsetting the even tenor of his life. No doubt the sooner he rid himself of the problem of her, the happier he would be.

  Then why was she going to inquire as to his health and state of mind when it was her own heart that was breaking at the thought of being parted from him?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Evie took the time to straighten her peach-colored gown and her hair before entering the private dining room. After which it took her several moments to acclimatize her vision in the gloom of the small room lit only by the flames of the fire. The candles had either burned themselves down or been deliberately blown out.

  A jacketless Hunter was slouched in one of the wing-back armchairs placed either side of that fire, his long legs stretched out before him. He held a glass of brandy in his hand, the now half-empty decanter on the table beside him. His hair was disheveled, his face flushed, his eyes a dark unfathomable green. His necktie was undone, as was the tie at the top of his shirt, his waistcoat unfastened.

  He looked totally unlike the usually impeccably dressed and haughtily distant Duke of Lincoln.

  He gave Evie a disinterested glance, then turned his gaze back to watching the flickering of the flames. “What do you want?”

  Evie was initially shocked by his uncharacteristic rudeness before indignation set in and she marched across the room to stand beside his chair. “That is not a very polite way to greet someone who has only come to check on your welfare.”

  “My welfare?” he echoed derisively. “What possible interest could you have in my welfare?”

  “I… Well… You have not seemed your usual self these past few days,” she said lamely.

  “That is probably because I am heartily sick of suffering the discomfort of my engorged cock inside my pantaloons.” He glanced down to where there was a notable bulge in the front of that garment. “Because I am almost rubbed raw from trying to satisfy that desire myself when I go to bed. Because even when I do, it only takes a single sight of you and it is up again. Then when I do manage to sleep, I dream of the softness and responses of your body and wake having spent all over myself.” He gave a disgusted glance at the brandy in his glass. “Because I cannot taste anything else, even strong liquor, other than the creamy nectar between your thighs.”

  Evie’s cheeks had become hotter and hotter the longer Hunter listed the intimate details of the reason for his discomfort. Now and during the past two days, it seemed.

  To say she was surprised by these admissions was an understatement, although she had no doubt that the brandy had helped to loosen Hunter’s normally cautious tongue.

  An iceberg, Lady Margaret had described him as being, and it certainly seemed that there was much about Hunter he preferred to keep hidden beneath the cool control he chose to show externally.

  “You have not spoken so much as a personal word to me since we left Lincoln Grange,” she recalled in bewilderment. Could you pass the salt during dinner, or is the tea to your liking at breakfast were socially polite, not personal.

  “And what should I say?” Hunter rested his glass of brandy on his chest as he glanced up at her. “Should I, as I have longed to do, unfasten my pantaloons and ask you to get down on your knees and suck my cock till my cum spills down your silky throat? Or perhaps instruct you to pull up your skirts and unfasten and remove your drawers, so that I might feast between your thighs as you come again and again in response to the ministrations of my fingers, tongue, and teeth?”

  “I—I—”

  He gave a derisive snort. “You cannot even bear to hear the words, let alone act upon them.”

  Evie did not care to have her feelings about any subject decided upon and then dismissed as readily, but especially when it involved making love with Hunter.

  “That it makes me blush to hear them does not mean I am averse to acting upon them,” she rebuked huskily.

  He tensed. “What do you mean?”

  She met his gaze unflinchingly. “Well, one of them, at least, I cannot do, but the rest do not sound so impossible.”

  His throat moved as he swallowed. “Which one?”

  “I am not wearing any drawers, so I cannot remove— Hunter?” she inquired uncertainly as he rose to his feet far more quickly than he should have been able to do considering the brandy he had imbibed during her absence.

  His lips instantly laid claim to hers, long and deep kisses that left them both breathless. He then swept her up into his arms, placing her on the chair in his stead. He quickly crossed the room to lock the door before coming back to kneel at her feet and throw up her skirts.

  He stilled the moment Evie’s bare pussy was revealed. “Dear God…” He grasped the tops of her thighs as he briefly closed his eyes before looking up again, an expression of displeasure on his face. “How long since you last wore drawers?”

  “Since I could no longer suffer the discomfort of their dampness between my legs.”

  He frowned. “Why were they damp?”

  “Because every time I so much as look at you, I am beset with such desire, the juices gush freely between my thighs and soak my drawers through,” she answered honestly.

  “Evie…” he groaned.

  “Hunter.”

  “Unfasten your gown and pull down the bodice,” he instructed.

  Evie’s fingers shook as she unbuttoned the side of her gown, allowing the bodice to fall to her waist.

  “Your chemise too,” Hunter encouraged gruffly as he used his grip on her thighs to pull her down the chair until her bottom rested on its edge.

  He groaned low in his throat when Evie pulled the soft material below her breasts so they were fully exposed. She could see her nipples were red and swollen, and they ached to be touched.

  “Touch them,” Hunter encouraged.

  Evie immediately cupped her hands beneath her breasts.

  “Caress and pull on your nipples.”

  Evie used the soft pad of her thumbs to caress that aching flesh.

  “I said pull on them,” Hunter instructed harshly, watching her hungrily as she pinched that swollen flesh between her fingers and thumb and then pulled downward.

  “Oh God…” The pleasure Evie felt was overwhelming.

  “Again,” Hunter demanded, sitting back on his heels to watch her.

  She pulled and squeezed her own nipples as Hunter watched her hungrily and her pleasure rose higher and higher.

  “Do not stop,” he ordered as he lowered his head and used his tongue to lick a path from beneath her pussy slit up to the pulsing nubbin above. “You know that this is madness?” His breath was a hot caress against that oversensitive flesh, causing Evie’s empty thighs to clench in need.

  “An inevitable madness,” she acknowledged softly, understanding now exactly what Lady Margaret had meant by “intentions change.”

  Because there was no way that Evie could say good night to Hunter now and return to sleep chastely in the single bed placed next to her elderly companion’s.

  It was as inevitable as night following day, and vice versa, Hunter acknowledged. Indeed, these past two days and nights since they’d left Yorkshire had been absolute torture for him, mentally as well as physically. Because as well as physically responding to Evie’s slightest proximity, he could not seem to stop thinking about her too.

  How luscious her lips were.

  How creamy the swell of her breasts.

  The remembered enticing slenderness of her thighs.

  How much he longed to bury his face in her pussy and taste and pleasure her.

  He was obsessed.

  Possessed.

  There could be no other explanation for the torment he suffered, both day and night: Evie had bewitched him.

  An enchantment he had no will nor desire to fight as the sight and scent of her now invaded all his senses.

  Evie’s pussy lips were plump and red, glistening with the release of those juices that caused her drawers to be constantly wet until she had decided not to wear any.

  The nubbin above was so swollen, the hood was pushed back and the tip visible between her folds.

  Hunter watched as more of her juices gushed from her slit the moment one of his thumbs caressed lightly up her folds to seek out that pulsing nubbin.

  She was already so aroused that a single caress and press against that turgid flesh, along with her pulling on her nipples, was enough to cause her to tense before she cried out. Her back arched, followed by her whole body shaking as she fell completely into a lengthy climax.

  Hunter used his shoulders to hold her thighs apart. His thumb continued to caress and rub the pulsing of her clit while he buried his face between her thighs and hungrily lapped up the juices flowing freely from her slit.

  Nectar.

  Ambrosia fit for the gods.

  And it belonged to him.

  Every last drop of it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Evie was boneless and sated by the time she returned to a sense of herself. She had lost count of how many times Hunter had taken her to that earth-shaking release.

  One of his cheeks rested against her thigh, his hands on her hips holding her firmly in place.

  She must appear debauched with the bodice of her gown still unfastened, her bare breasts fully on display, the nipples red and tingling from where she had squeezed and pulled on them. A pressure she had deepened as Hunter’s mouth made relentless love to her.

  But despite her feelings of satiation, she knew that something didn’t feel right. That there was something…

  Ah. “I believe now is the time for me to suck your cock until you come down my throat,” she huskily reminded him as she sat up.

  “Your silky throat,” Hunter corrected. “Leave it,” he instructed when she would have straightened her chemise and gown. “I want to look at them while you are— Are you sure you really want to do this?” he voiced cautiously. “Last time, you only licked and took a little of my cum into your mouth.”

  Was she sure?

  “God, yes, I’m sure,” she assured fervently, having fantasized since the last time they made love together about how it would feel to have Hunter’s cock in her mouth.

  Hunter watched her from beneath heavy lids as he took her place in the chair while she knelt at his feet and unfastened the buttons at the sides of his pantaloons. He wore no drawers either, allowing the long thickness of his cock to spring free the moment Evie lowered the flap of material covering it.

  “My own drawers have been as damp as you admit yours have,” Hunter explained huskily.

  Evie curled her fingers about that length, surprised again at how velvety soft the skin there felt, like silk over steel. That long thick vein ran the rampant length, the top flaring out, the skin there once again red and slick with a clear viscous fluid. The nectar she had tasted only a little of the last time they made love. Cum, Hunter had just called it. Whatever it was called, Evie intended keeping it all for herself this time.

  She lowered her head, lips parted widely so that she could take all of that bulbous top into her mouth. A delicious squirt of cum instantly pulsed into her mouth. She quickly lapped it up and swallowed it before she lowered her head and took that silky flesh deeper into her mouth, although she doubted she would be able to take more than four or five inches of it.

  “Relax your throat,” Hunter encouraged gruffly. “Relax the muscles there so that I can go deeper,” he explained when she glanced up at him. “I will allow you to breathe, do not worry.”

  Evie trusted him completely. Even so, she had to concentrate on the task, to her knowledge never having needed to relax the muscles in her throat before.

  Hunter’s cock surged forward the moment she managed to ease that tightness. He pushed it deeper into and then down her throat, cutting off the air, his hands becoming entangled in her hair as he held her head in place.

  “Breathe when I pull out,” he instructed.

  It took several long seconds, and tears were streaming down Evie’s cheeks, when she at last managed to breathe as well as accommodate the thick glide of Hunter’s length down her throat. He thrust deeper, and then deeper still, until she felt the coarse hair at the base of his cock against her chin.

  “Squeeze your throat muscles now.” He groaned as she did so. “Breathe in between my thrusts. Perfect,” he praised as she picked up his new rhythm of staying inside her longer, with only a brief respite for her to draw in a quick breath through her nose. “You are so good at this, Evie. So good.” He released her hair to fall back in the chair, his groans deep and husky as he watched through hooded lids as her head now bobbed easily up and down the length of his shaft.

  Evie had no idea how long she continued to take the thrusts of Hunter’s cock down her throat, nor did she care about the hot tears that continued to fall down her cheeks. She was enjoying every single moment of this, had never known what power there was in giving another person this much pleasure.

  There was no doubting Hunter was pleasured. His thighs trembled as she cupped her hand about the sac beneath his cock, gently rolling and squeezing each time she took his cock down her throat.

  “I am going to come,” he warned suddenly. “You must move if you do not want me to do so in your mouth.”

  Her answer was to take his cock deeper into her throat and keep him there.

  “Very well, but do not say I did not warn you,” he had time to groan before his cock seemed to swell even bigger and harder. Seconds later, his cum began to pulse hotly into and down her throat.

  Evie was determined to drink down every drop. She was the reason it existed. It belonged to her.

  “Dear God, what have I done?” Hunter groaned as he looked down long minutes later at a disheveled Evie.

  Her head now lay against his thigh, where his spent cock also rested, having slipped from between her lips. She looked debauched, her hair in disarray, her cheeks red and damp still from where the tears had leaked down her cheeks as he thrust his cock down her throat. Her gown was still unfastened, the chemise also pulled down to reveal her bare breasts, the nipples red and swollen from where Evie had tugged and squeezed them at his command.

  “I am become a madman,” Hunter continued raggedly. “Driven insane with lust. This has to stop,” he bit out decisively. “Evie—Evelyn,” he corrected harshly. “You must stand now, straighten your clothes, and return to your bedchamber.”

  “Why must I?” She looked befuddled and satiated.

  Because if she did not, Hunter was very much afraid he would not be able to let her go.

  He reached out to ease her back from his thighs, his nimble fingers making short work of pushing his softening cock back inside his pantaloons and then fastening them.

  He grasped the tops of her arms and pulled her to her feet before standing and proceeding to straighten and refasten Evie’s clothes. “This should not have happened again. I have never behaved with a woman as I do with you. Never been so depraved in my sexual demands as I am with you.” He stepped back from the temptation of her.

  Evie stumbled slightly, then regained her balance. “I do not understand. Did I do something wrong? I thought you wanted me to—to—”