Page 23 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

T homas strode through the dimly lit hall, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls. The scent of beeswax polish and a faint hint of roasted game from dinner lingered in the air, though his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t shake their encounter in the carriage; it replayed in his mind like a melody he couldn’t stop humming. Her sparkling eyes as she smiled up at him, flushed and captivating in his arms—a memory that had him prowling the corridors for the fifth time tonight.

By his sixth pass, the portraits lining the hall seemed to watch him with mild disapproval. Scowling, he muttered to his great-great-grandfather’s frowning likeness, “Yes, yes, I know—I’m a love-struck fool. Never felt like this yourself, hmm?”

A chill trickled down his spine as he imagined those painted eyes shifting toward him.

He shook off the feeling of being silently judged. He needed to see her. It was like an urge that became an obsession. Sending a pointed look back at the portraits, he turned the corner toward her room, his fingers brushing the cold stone wall as he went. When he reached her door, he stopped, resting his forehead against the solid wood.

Thomas took a steadying breath, an absurd little debate kicking up in his mind. Should he enter? Should he wait? Why was he so rattled?

The scent of jasmine and roses drifted from her room, tugging him forward. Finally, he pushed the door open, finding her deep in thought by the window, her silhouette framed by the moonlight streaming in. She looked ethereal, like a painting come to life.

“Ashley,” he murmured, his voice low, but it carried everything he felt.

She turned, her eyes wide with surprise. “Linsey, what are you doing here?”

He arched a brow, smiling. “May I come in?”

“ Thomas ,” she corrected, playfully, leaning back against the window. “To what do I owe this inappropriate visit?”

“I had to find you,” he said, stepping closer. “You left abruptly after dinner, and I didn’t see you after.”

Her fingers picked at her dress as she regarded him. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just had things on my mind.”

Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it. “Care to share? I’m known to be an exceptional listener.”

She laughed, a short, guarded sound. “Maybe after the race.”

He lifted a brow. “Why after?”

A flicker of something—caution, perhaps—crossed her features. “Let’s just say, it would be better if I share my mind after a victory on the tracks.”

“Victory is not guaranteed.”

“Victory is racing,” she countered.

He chuckled. “Very well, I can’t claim to understand, but should I be worried? Is this good or bad?”

“Well,” she replied, eyes sparkling. “It’s not good; it’s not bad either.”

He pushed away from the door, crossing to her. “You and your contradictions.” He traced her cheek with his thumb, enjoying the warmth beneath his finger.

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a fleeting moment. When they opened again, he saw in her gaze the same fierce longing that burned in him. Without hesitation, he pulled her close, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was both tender and fierce.

When they broke apart, he let out a soft breath, voice rough with emotion. “I’ll have something to say after the race, too.” He had a lot. There was his surprise, but also the ominous note from Paisley and the matter regarding her brother. The last two, he hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood between them when they were together, but she had the right to at least know.

“Good or bad?” she asked, her eyes dancing with curiosity.

“Not good,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not bad, either.”

“Stealing my lines now?”

“Borrowing them.”

She reached up, brushing her fingers over his chest. “Why are you here? Are you planning to be greedy again?”

Instead of answering, he gently pressed his thumb to her lips, slipping past the barrier to explore the warmth within. The sensation was thrilling, a direct line to his very core, igniting that fire he struggled to contain when they were alone. An endless fight he always lost. She closed her lips around his thumb, her tongue brushing against his finger in a way that sent a bolt of heat through him.

“Can I be greedy all my life?” he asked, voice rough.

She smiled up at him, a glint lighting her gaze. Slowly, she drew his thumb away and, with quiet confidence, unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers grazing the bare skin beneath. “Ashley,” he murmured, his back pressing against the bookshelf.

“You’ll be the end of me,” he muttered, a half-hearted jest that masked the depth of his arousal.

“That’s exactly my plan.”

“You’re trying to kill me?”

“You or me.”

“What about both of us?”

Ashley raised her brows and nodded with a hint of resignation. But she was so close that his heart started racing anew. Her hand, steady and sure, reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it from his breeches. Then she unbuttoned his breeches, and the bookshelf blocked him from taking a step back and escaping her wandering hands, the hard edge pressing into the muscles of his back. So wonderfully bold this beauty. He didn’t want to escape anyway.

“I want to touch you as you did me in the carriage.”

“But you did,” he found himself saying, even as every fiber of his being screamed in protest. It had been different in the landau even though he couldn’t recall the reason.

“So?” she challenged and slid down and knelt before him. “You enjoyed it earlier this morning, and I want to give you pleasure.”

Then, with a movement as fluid as it was deliberate, Ashley tossed her head, her blonde curls cascading like a golden waterfall over her shoulders. The sight of her, so bold and unashamed, struck Thomas like a punch to the gut. And as she began her slow descent from his tip along the length of him, her gaze locked on his, he knew he was witnessing something profound.

Thomas was at the brink of losing himself. Her motions were so swift, so adorable, so clumsy, so precious. He bucked when her tongue swirled around his tip and let his head fall backward.

His heart skipped a beat, and he forgot to breathe.

Looking down at the carefully piled curls on her head and the pretty pink dress sprawled around her made him wonder why he felt like a gift she was unwrapping. Or was unraveling the better word? He certainly wasn’t himself.

“You feel so good,” he croaked.

“I’m glad. Teach me all you like,” she said, her mouth surrounding him. The vibration from her words nearly pushed him over the edge but the meaning, her desire to please him, reverberated to his heart. “You can always teach me what you need.”

“You.” He groaned. “I just need you.”

Just the mere thought of her lips, her mouth, taking him in was nearly enough to undo him completely, never mind her actually doing it. But then, amid the fire her tongue stroked, a flicker of conscience stirred within him.

At that moment, Thomas realized the truth of their connection. A meeting of minds and souls, a dance of equals drawn together by an undeniable force. And as he surrendered to the moment completely, to the exquisite promise of Ashley’s touch, he knew he would risk anything for her.

His very life.

Her approach was unhurried, every inch she moved filled with intention, with the silent promise of pleasures that would drive him insane. Thomas watched, transfixed, as the distance between them shrank, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribcage.

Ah, hell.

Her lips embarked on a journey down the taut line of his arousal. The softness of her tongue, paired with the gentle, yet insistent caress of her fingers, drew patterns of pleasure across his skin, igniting a blaze that threatened to consume him whole.

His body responded instinctively, a reflexive arch into the air, a whispered curse that mingled with the charged silence between them, and he arched his hips toward her. When she paused, pulling back, he felt the sting of her absence like a physical blow, leaving him exposed, pulsing with an urgency that bordered on pain.

Yet, she didn’t retreat fully.

Instead, she shifted her approach, her lips pressing against him in a series of butterfly kisses. Somehow, she managed to do even this with an air of elegance and innocence that made it seem just right, so very good. Each brush of her tongue was a delicate exploration that erased his ability to hold back. Thomas closed his eyes, surrendering to the cascade of sensations, each kiss a promise, each touch a revelation.

When she welcomed him once more, taking him deeper, the world narrowed to the point of her tongue on his shaft. Restraint shattered, giving way to a primal need that coursed through his veins with the force of a wild stallion.

Thomas reached for her, his hands finding the silkiness of her hair, guiding her movements with desperation. “Yes,” he breathed out, the intensity of the sensation so damn sharp. “Ashley, you are incredible,” he managed, each word punctuated by the rhythm they set together. “I need you, Ashley, I love you.”

She gave the briefest of pauses before sucking his member in with a burst of renewed purpose, and he jerked and…bloody hell!

He yanked at his cravat, nearly choking himself in his rush to get it off. Just as the first surge spilled against her lips, he pulled back, catching the rest with a steadying breath. His hand slid to the back of her head, guiding her up to him.

Panting, still regaining his composure, he noted the blush that swept over her face, coloring her ears and trailing down her neckline.

Oh boy.

He needed that special license.

Tomorrow.

*

A woman possessed was a dangerous thing indeed.

And Ashley was possessed.

Just as she couldn’t say what had possessed her to be so bold in her private chamber with her friends close by, only that the bold that had been lacking when it came to admitting secrets burst forth when taking action. Actions, after all, spoke louder than any words ever could. And how could she resist him with her mind if every bit of her body wanted him so wholly?

She slowly rose to her feet, tasting the words, the admission, the secret that still couldn’t leave her lips even as his scent, his flavor, his very essence clung to them.

Pleasure came in many ways and forms, but most often, it was pleasure taken. This—giving pleasure—felt richer, fuller, more intoxicating than anything she’d ever experienced.

Pleasure in its purest form.

The pleasure of his raspy groans.

The pleasure of his hands gripping her hair.

The pleasure of his pure abandonment.

But it was his whispered “I love you” that sent a shiver down to the very heart of her. The confession was much more raw than the words let on.

She watched as he quickly readjusted his clothing as she readjusted her wits. She’d acted daring, too daring, to sidestep a much larger issue. And Thomas was nothing if not perceptive; he wouldn’t press her tonight, but eventually, if she didn’t make do on her promise to share her thoughts after the Ascot, he would probe again.

Her time was running out.

“I’m going to London the day after the Ascot,” he suddenly said, circling her with his arms and resting his forehead against hers.

Her brows furrowed. “Why?”

“For the special license.” He sighed, kissing her cheek tenderly. “I can’t wait any longer.”

Ashley froze. Could she truly run away now?

No, that would make her no different from Jordan, or even, in some ways, her mother. Whatever needed to be done, she would face it with the same brazenness she faced everything else.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She glanced at him, quirking her lips. “I should be asking you that. It almost sounded as though you were in pain.”

“I’m always in pain when I’m with you.”

“Not very encouraging,” she replied, raising a brow.

“It means you drive me to the brink of my sanity, then pull me back, only to drive me straight there again.”

Ashley couldn’t help but laugh. “That does sound painful.”

“Your spirits seem somewhat revived now that your friends are here.”

“They were never low.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “I’m glad they’ll be with you at the race. I fear it might have been dreadfully tedious otherwise.”

She tilted her head. That will be the last thing it would be! “Oh, I don’t know about that. Honestly, I’ve never attended a race before,” she continued. “It should be thrilling.” Or terrifying, if she couldn’t stop Maddie.

What if they couldn’t stop her? What if—

She realized she’d been backing away from him, and his frown brought her to a halt. What was she doing?

Yes, Ashley. What now?

“I’m not running away,” she blurted, more to herself than him.

The furrow between his brows deepened. “Ashley, if I did something wrong, tell me. I’m not a complete fool. Or maybe I am, because around you, I’m never sure how to act. You make me feel reckless—like I’ve never done this before.”

“I know the feeling,” she murmured. His presence made her feel both alive and utterly undone.

She looked away and then back at him. “You should rest. We leave for the race the day after tomorrow, and I imagine you have many arrangements to make.” And she had a catastrophe to prevent.

“I don’t want to leave.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You wish to stay?”

“If I’m given half a chance, I’ll leap into that bed right now.”

“A leap, you say? And here I thought you were all charm and grace.”

He grinned, undeterred. “For you, I’ll be whatever you wish. Even a rogue who dares invade your bedchamber.”

“Well, you’ve certainly invaded this bedchamber. But you’re the master of this castle. What do you think our friends will say if they find you here?”

“What can they say? They couldn’t pry me away even if they tried.”

“They can say why did I not send you on your merry way!” She moved toward the bed, her steps not quite keeping pace with her heartbeat. She clutched at her neck. I can’t breathe . How can he be so charming at the most unexpected times?

“Stay if you want, then. I won’t send you on your merry way.” She promptly sat down on the bed before she realized her legs could no more hold the weight of her body than her heart could hold the burden of what she kept at bay. So yes, she would allow him to sleep with her tonight.

She wanted his warmth.

Needed it.

But she’d made a mess of the situation and didn’t think any of her friends could get her out of it.

What would Papa do in this situation? His advice was always sage. Though, he would surely question the independence he’d provided her over the years should he catch wind of why she’d accepted this engagement with Linsey. What did he always say? The truth will come out even if it breezes in on the back of a leaf.

Yet again, her father would be right.

So long as it’s a breeze and not a storm. A spring breeze was a good idea, not a storm.

She glanced at Thomas as he plopped down beside her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down with him. Her breaths came in rapid bursts. Leave it to him to not only rob her of her breath but to claim it entirely. Not even Jordan had managed that.

She inwardly scowled. Whatever she had felt for Jordan was nothing compared to this. It was time to let him go. Completely.

This wasn’t Thomas’s fault.

It was hers.

But soon, she would set everything right.

He settled into her bed as though he’d always belonged there.

“But be warned,” Ashley suddenly said, narrowing her eyes at him. He had tossed his robe aside, his broad chest and muscled arms bare, with only his unmentionables preserving a semblance of modesty. He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes as he met her gaze. “If you stay, you might be devoured.”

“Devoured? That sounds intriguing.”

“Does it?”

How about one night of love before he finds out the truth?

Just this once.

If she was going to be ruined anyway, she’d rather do it this way than retreat to a loft in London, ruined, jilted, and forever alone. Surely that would be the punishment if she couldn’t stop Maddie, and he decided to cut all ties after discovering the truth.

She crawled to the center of the bed, the mattress creaking softly under her weight. Her hands trembled as she reached for the ties on her shoulders, the fabric of her shift whispering as it slipped down her arms and pooled around her waist. She reached up to her hair and pulled out the pins that held her hair in a loose bun. When her hair fell over her shoulders, she curled her lips. “Nothing to say?”

She gasped when his arms suddenly shot out and wrapped her, his touch firm and electrifying as he pulled her into his body. His voice, low and ragged, held a warning. “If you continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Ashley looked up at him, her pulse quickening. The glint in his eyes mirrored her own hidden longing. She knew this was about more than mere desire. She wanted to feel love, to be cherished, if only for a fleeting moment. His love. His cherishment. So, she leaned into his embrace, tossing caution into the country wind.

“I won’t stop you,” she said.