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His Wicked Heart(8)

By:Darcy Burke



Around and over, her hands moved. Kneading. Stroking. Arousing. “Do you like that?”

He barely kept himself from groaning aloud. “Yes.”

When his muscles tingled from her ministrations, she moved her hands up his legs. He sucked in a breath, anticipating the touch of her fingers against his prick.

She blinked up at him, her dark lashes sweeping over the vibrant green of her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

The question surprised him, dulling the edge of his lust. He trusted no one save his aunt and his sister. But surely Olivia only meant that he should trust her with his care this evening. And that he thought he could manage. “I will, yes.”

Her lips curved into a smile and she gestured to the bed. “Lie back.”

He did as she commanded, swinging his feet onto the pallet and reclining back against her pillows.

She sat beside him, her hip pressed against his. The intimacy tested Jasper’s self-control. She leaned over his chest, her breasts brushing against him. His breathing grew shallower.

Giving in to impulse, he clasped her sides. The smooth fabric of her gown caressed his flesh. Her heat bled through the satin, and he longed to touch her bare skin. He closed his eyes briefly, relishing both the feel of her and the spike of lust arcing through him.

Cotton settled against his eyes. He opened them but saw only blackness. He grabbed her hand, pulling the blindfold away. “What are you doing?”

Her lips tickled his ear. “You said you would trust me.”

Yes, he’d said that, but that didn’t mean it was easy. “Why the blindfold?”

She pulled her head back and gazed at him intently. Her eyes took on a sparkling, animated quality he’d never seen on her before. Gone, finally, was the wariness, the unease. “Our eyes can inhibit sensation. For now, I’m asking you to just feel.”

He nodded, aroused enough to do whatever she asked. She finished tying the fabric behind his head. Her breath gusted over him in a hot little pant. His hips twitched with need.

The blindfold was tight enough that he couldn’t see anything. Immersed in blackness, his other senses amplified, honing in on her lavender scent, the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart against his chest. All of it combined to drive him to an erotic edge.

He curved one hand behind her neck and pulled her face to his. He leaned up, meaning to kiss her…

Her fingers pushed against his lips. “Not yet.”

Jasper drew one digit into his mouth, lightly sucking on the tip. He smiled at her sharp intake of breath.

She ran her hands down his chest and it was his turn to gasp. Slowly, she tugged the hem of his shirt from his breeches. Her knuckles grazed his belly, forcing his muscles to clench. He twisted toward her hips, aching for the touch of something—anything—against his swollen cock.

Inch by inch, she pushed the shirt up his torso, exposing each new piece of flesh to the heat collecting between them. Her fingers danced along his skin, driving him farther, deeper into his haze of lust. The anticipation was near agony. It was, in fact, more acute than any pain he’d ever suffered.

He arched off the bed so she could sweep the garment over his head. He felt the breeze as the fabric left him. It stirred her delicious scent and he couldn’t stop himself another moment. He slid his tongue along her neck, knowing exactly where she was positioned because he hadn’t let her go. She shivered. He pressed his lips to the underside of her chin.

She hovered there, allowing his attention, but didn’t tilt her face down. Why wouldn’t she kiss him?

But then he felt the slide of fabric against his right wrist and he snatched it from her grip. “Now what are you doing?”

“Trust me.” She moved her head and ran her tongue along the outer edge of his ear. With soft lips, she tugged at his lobe and then sucked it into her mouth.

He quivered with need. It took her a moment to secure him, but he was too focused on the ministrations of her mouth and tongue.

Then she moved to his left wrist. This put the swell of her breast close enough to kiss. Jasper didn’t hesitate. He pressed his mouth to her skin, praying she’d remove his blindfold at some point so he could watch her undress. He opened his mouth and suckled at her flesh, drawing another gasp from her.

A moment later, she finished her work and drew away. Again, she ran her hands down his chest. It seemed she was in no hurry, and he couldn’t fault her. He wanted to extend their pleasure as long as physically possible. Her hands reached the waistband of his breeches and stilled.

Silence reigned, broken only by their rapid breathing filling the space. Need pulsed within him, between them. Unable to stand another torturous second, Jasper pressed his hips up, urging her to continue whatever she meant to do next.

She unfastened his fall. As each button came free, his blood heated and his pulse increased. The absence of sight and the inability to touch her with his hands sensitized the nerves in his flesh. Every time she brushed his small clothes or the surface of his belly, he moved his hips.

At last she stroked him. Lightly, perhaps inadvertently, but he groaned nonetheless. Then she pulled his breeches from his legs and except for his small clothes, he was completely exposed to her. He spread his thighs, inviting her to do as she wished.

“I’ll be right back.”

He frowned. “I’d like to watch you undress.”

“You said you trusted me, Saxton,” she said with a light, scolding tone. “I promise you will not be disappointed this evening.”

She had no idea what she asked of him, but he forced himself to relax. There would be other times for him to peel her chemise from her breasts.

The swish of her skirts, so alluringly clear to his hungry senses, faded for a moment. A bead of doubt infiltrated his sexual haze—had he been wrong to trust her? More silence. The doubt grew into a dark, fear-laden cloud. His desire began to fade.

Her footsteps, so light and soft, reached his desperate ears. The bed sagged as she straddled him, her bare knees pressing down on each side of his hips. She inserted her hand into the slit of his small clothes and palmed him. Lust jolted his slackening shaft, casting his disappointment aside as if it had never been. So good, except for the calluses…

She didn’t have calluses. Her palms had been soft when she’d tied his hands.

He pulled back from the hand stroking him, retreating as far as he could into the mattress.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t far enough. “Who the hell are you?”

Her fingers found him. “It’s me, Livvie.” The voice was too deep, too rough.

His desire fled completely and was replaced with cold rage. Everything about this woman from her touch to her voice to her name was all wrong. “You may think I’m helpless, but I assure you I’m not. Tell me where Olivia is.”

A heavy, gin-soaked breath gusted over him. “I guarantee you’d rather do this with me. Livvie doesn’t have my…skill.”

Jasper doubted that. Pointlessly, she stroked him again.

He pulled at his bindings, desperate to shove her hand away and remove her from his body. “Stop!” he hissed. If Olivia was nearby, he didn’t want her to know she was on to his scheme.

Her hand closed more firmly around his prick. “Who’s in control now?”

Her voice now penetrated his confused brain. The whore from the brothel the other night. What the hell was she doing here?

Jasper struggled against his bindings, but they were well tied. “Take off my blindfold and untie me. If you do it quickly—and quietly—I’ll give you five pounds.”

She tore the blindfold off him. Her gray eyes spat venom. “You cost me a lot more than that the other night. The madam was right furious with me. Threatened to kick me out on the street after you left. She’s given me the lowliest, cheapest customers since. I deserve a bloody sight more than five pounds.”

Working to take the edge from his voice, he modulated his tone. He needed her to let him go, not squeeze his prick to death—or worse. “Ten pounds, then. Do remember I’m an earl as you deliberate.”

Another gust of gin-soaked breath settled over him. “That’s more like it.” She set to work on his bindings.

When both wrists were free, he pushed her off him. “Cover yourself.” He held his finger to his lips, urging her to do so quietly.

Hastily, he drew on his breeches, his hands shaking with rage. “What was your plan?” he asked softly. “And keep your voice down.”

She refastened her dress. “After I shagged you, I’d get up to wash and then we’d switch back.”

Fury pooled in his belly and spread, filling him with vitriol. Olivia had duped him. Purposefully. Anguish mingled with his anger. Do you trust me? She’d lied with every word, every touch.

He pushed his anger out, toward the hapless slut. “This is fraud. I could drag you to the magistrate.”

She blanched. “Have mercy, my lord. I was only trying to make back the coin you lost me.”

“Go out and tell her you’re done.” He pulled two pounds from his discarded waistcoat and gave it to her, not because he wanted to, but because he felt bad for the plight he’d caused her. It wasn’t her fault she reminded him of lost love. He gave her a dark look. “Don’t warn her.”

She nodded jerkily. He moved to stand behind the door.

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