Читать книгу The Earl's Wildcat - Krystina Daryl - Страница 5

America- August 1857

"Come on, men! Don't be cowards! Deposit what you're worth on the table!" Lydia slapped her palm on the table, shaking it on its unsteady legs and toppling two mugs of ale.

One man pushed away from the table when the liquid poured over on his side. Another pushed him aside, sank to the ground on his knees with his open mouth wide pointing to the heavens. He made a fool of himself trying to gulp the ale down and keep his mouth open to continue receiving the ale.

The man—a giant—who was pushed away growled, "Lloyd, you owe me another mug!"

Lydia grunted in response. "Are we going to drink or are we going to gamble?"

He bent down, supporting his weight on the table as he leaned in close to Lydia. "Boy, my... ale... now!"

Lydia had learnt early on never to let intimidating giants make her quake in her boots. It was the only way to survive in this cruel world. Forced to take the disguise of a boy to earn an extra living, she knew her bark and bite needed to compensate for her small size and short height.

It was either gambling or whoring, and she was not going to whore herself to disgusting pigs!

If she chose the life of a whore, she'd toy with the idea of going to London and joining the White Palace. She heard that was where men with fortunes and noble titles went. There were great prospects there. She also thought of becoming a courtesan and gaining a wealthy protector and living a life of luxury. The days of work and struggles would all be forgotten.

But, she drew the line at becoming a married man's mistress. There was no reason to be part of destroying a man's family.

In that sense, she was better than her mother.

Geraldine had been a married man's mistress in Yorkshire, England. She thought she could get more money by using blackmail to expose his bastard to his wife—whom he had married just for her fortune. She never anticipated that same woman would become a paladin for fidelity and ship the bastard and his whore to America on the fastest ship out of England.

Lydia lived with a mother who despised her and a sickly grandmother who treated her like a treasure. Those were conflicting emotions for a child to grow up with. But once Geraldine married a man with a dark soul that matched hers and left, Lydia became settled.

Yes, she lost a prospective sister she would have loved to have, but she was rid of her witch of a mother and dodged a drunken cad for a stepfather. Poor Lanie had ended up with both.

She'd always known she'd have to be tough to survive the dangerous streets of Dallas, but once her grandmother passed when she was just five and ten, she knew she had to toughen her skin even more.

Now she was a jack of all trades and a master of one—gambling.

There was not a table she left without spoils. Her grandmother had taught her well.

Lydia Parker, a bastard, an adulterous child carrying the last name of her sire as a further insult, and an orphan, was a career survivor.

Lydia stood up and pushed her chair back roughly. She punched her fists on the table and leaned over until she was nose to nose with the giant.

He barks, bark louder.

He bites, bite harder.

"I'll buy you your shitty ale, you whiny pussy, after I take your money!" she yelled in his face.

The giant grabbed her shirt collar. "Boy!" he hissed.

Lydia smiled. "Kind sir, shift your eyes to your navel," she said with her natural voice, hoping everyone would assume it to be a mocking tone.

The giant looked down. His eyes widened when he saw the long blade, with its glistening sharp tip pressing close to his navel.

Lydia pushed it forward until it made contact to his person. Reassuming the voice of a man, Lydia yelled in his face, "Release me or forfeit more than your money!"

"Now, gentlemen, there is no need to shed blood," the owner of the establishment spoke with a shaky voice. "How about I award your table two mugs of ale each, just to keep the peace?"

The giant's harsh expression eased at the mention of free ale. He released her and straightened up. "For a scrawny boy who looks like a girl, you are one tough man, Lloyd!"

Lydia had spent enough of her time in drinking establishments like these to know the insult was meant as a compliment.

She nodded and sat back down on her chair. She pushed the hat down to fasten its hold on her hair. "Now, where were we?"

*****

After a few hands, all wins, Lydia left the inn. She was exhausted but the night had just begun. It was time to go to the Dallas Palace to join the rich men's table. She couldn't play. She'd tried but her male clothes didn't scream rich enough to be given a chair on any of the tables.

So she dressed like a whore, sat next to Mr. Kingston and hoped the night ended on his lap.

She never gave him any sexual favours, just advice as an expert gambler. And whenever he pulled her into his lap, it meant he was pleased with her work as an adviser and she was going home with a small fortune.

Mr. Kingston stopped caring much about money six months prior—two months after Lydia had offered him her services. On their first meeting, she had found him sobbing outside the Dallas Palace, mourning the fortune he had lost. The idiot had gone as far as gambling his large fishing business away.

It was an opportunity she could not let slip by her. She offered to help him win everything back, on a few conditions. One, he protected her from men's wandering hands and dicks when she was inside and he too wouldn't dare proposition her. He was a married man and she wasn't going to help him cause his family more distress. Two, they would split extra earnings and he would keep what he had foolishly lost.

Once the agreement was struck she changed her man's attire to that of a whore's and walked into the palace on his arm.

She had been determined to find a way in and she had.

It took the entire night and early morning to win back everything he had lost. The men losing their fortunes tried to have her thrown out a few times, but Mr. Kingston protected her. He had to settle her on his lap and challenge them to get their own woman to help better their ill fortune.

Occupying his lap was not only a sign of great payment but also the only way he could keep the wandering men away from her.

Eight months on, the deal had become the best investment she had ever made.

"Ready?" Tom, Mr. Kingston's footman stepped out of the shadows and approached her.

"Aye," Lydia said with a nod.

They walked to the side of the inn where the carriage waited to take her to the Dallas Palace.

"Why do you still visit these pig-sties when you earn great monies sitting on my boss's lap?" Tom asked with distain.

It was a question he asked every Friday, the agreed upon day for Mr. Kingston to gamble. She had other business on the other days of the week. Also, having Mr. Kingston gamble once a week kept him out of trouble and his family happy to have him home for six days a week.

"Tom, I work for your boss once a week. And besides, I need to polish my skill or you and I will both end up with no employment."

He smiled. "No we won't. Like a cat, you would land on your feet and I will become your partner."

Lydia turned and stared at him cautiously. She moved her hand slowly to her back where the blade sat. "What is your meaning, Tom?"

"I will become your driver, your escort, your guard." He leaned closer to her and whispered, "Your lover and all that you require. And you would support us on the gambling table. Within a year, we would be living in a mansion as large as Mr. Kingston's."

Lydia eyed him suspiciously. She might not be a saint, but one thing that she did not appreciate were men who were not loyal. They could be thieves, saints or murderers—she didn't care as long as they were loyal to someone or something.

"How long have you been pondering this, Tom?"

He shrugged and kept walking. "It just came to me."

Lydia followed. "Do you not believe the monies you are being paid for your services to me and his household enough?"

He stopped and turned to her. "Don't get me wrong, Wildcat. I appreciate all the boss has provided, but I have always wished for more. To be considered more than just a lowly footman. Surely you do understand?"

Lydia nodded. No one understood better than she did. "Let's discuss it when the New Year comes. This business arrangement might work."

Tom cheered, a deep grin filling his face. "Wildcat, I can hardly wait!"

Once they reached the carriage, Lydia pulled the hat off to expose her braided hair. She stood still when she felt Tom's hand pull free the braid.

"You have such beautiful golden locks."

The tone in his voice disturbed Lydia. He sounded aroused. "I only let down because Mr. Kingston asked it. I believe it is a requirement in the Dallas Palace?"

"Yes." She heard him swallow lustfully as he caressed the braid, "I believe it is a requirement."

Lydia turned around, pulling her hair free of his hold. She held the knife tightly in her hand at her side, preparing to defend herself. "Tom, do not let your imagination run with reckless abandon. If we are to enter the agreement, the terms will be the same as that I have with Mr. Kingston."

"Do you intend on being a spinster all your life, or find a man worthy of your virtue?" he asked with a large sneer of his face.

Lydia smiled, he was right about that. He wasn't worthy to take what her grandmother had called her precious gift. She had no delusions of finding a worthy man who would love her, save her and give her comfort for the rest of her life. She'd also banished the delusions of one day having a brood of her own.

But her virtue, the innocence of her body was the only thing that hadn't been polluted. She was going to hold onto her precious gift for herself.

"Tom, what's between my thighs will not and never will be in our agreement, if I choose to go ahead with it. Keep that in mind as you decide your own terms for the arrangement."

Without waiting for a response, she got into the carriage and began changing into her whore costume.

*****

Lydia got out of the carriage, holding her heavy cloak tight around her shoulders. The costume was highly uncomfortable but business was business.

She wore pink drawers that inched close to her hips, covering just her delicate private parts. Her long white stockings were held up with clips that were fastened to her scandalous drawers. Her red corset was padded to push her humble breasts higher, giving her an hour glass figure. She held her front hair up with red pins and left the bottom part down to her waist in loose curls. She completed the look with a red mask that covered half her face.

Geraldine may have been a horrid human being, but her taste in scandalous wardrobe gained envy from the matron's of Dallas Palace. She'd not only left her daughter behind, but also her whore costumes when she married.

Tom escorted her to the back of the bawdy house and walked with her as her guard until they got to Mr. Kingston's table. He pulled the cloak off her shoulders for her and pulled her a chair from the neighbouring table, setting it next to Mr. Kingston.

It only took one look for Lydia to tell Mr. Kingston had already dug himself a deep debt hole.

Lydia played her part well, pressing a loud and long red kiss on Mr. Kingston's cheek. "My love, your lucky charm is here."

Mr. Kingston brushed the back of his hand over his perspiring brow. "And just in time, Wildcat!" He pulled her onto his lap and showed her his cards. "Work your magic for me would you?"

Lydia pulled the cards from his hands. "With pleasure, my love."

"Is this how it works in Dallas? The hostesses act as saviours to their guests?"

Lydia smiled at the comment but kept her eyes on the bad hand Mr. Kingston held. The man's English accent and comment told her it was his first visit to the brothel.

"It's our job to provide more than sexual pleasure, My Lord. Relaxation and peace of mind is included in the services rendered." She laid one card down and picked another. She smiled at her luck. "We can't have our guests going home more stressed than they arrived can we?"

She spread the winning hand onto the table. "Is that not right, Mr. Kingston?"

Mr. Kingston cheered, bouncing her on his lap. "Yes, Wildcat!"

She looked up to watch the losers' faces. The different reactions both fascinated and amused her. When her eyes settled on one particular man, she gasped. She'd never seen such deep blue eyes before.

He pushed his cards to the dealer, his eyes still on her. She felt her breathe catch when his grin deepened. Never had her interest and her body been stirred by a look or a smile before.

"Perhaps you should come keep my lap warm for the next hand?"

The seduction aided by his accent seeped out with his words like an erotic fragrance that heated her flesh.

Lydia was startled out of her daze when Mr. Kingston pulled her roughly against him, his arm a tight restraint around her waist. "Oh no, sir, she's my lucky charm."

In a quick recovery, Lydia patted Mr. Kingston's arm. "Calm yourself, love. I have no plans of vacating your person."

The Englishman placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. His biceps bulged, stretching the fabric of his shirt enough that Lydia thought it would rip over the moulds.

"Fine, if not for a game of cards, then perhaps your other profession?" His brow rose suggestively and one end of his lips rose in a breath-taking half smile.

Lydia swallowed hard. His lustful look was the first that rendered her speechless. Her quick sharp tongue lay lifeless in her mouth.

Mr. Kingston laughed. "Not even for that, sir."

The Englishman shifted his gaze from her to the man whose lap she occupied for a moment before it rested back on her. "Is she your courtesan?"

Mr. Fisher, who sat to his right, snorted a laugh. "You will have no luck from that direction either. We've all tried to have our own romp in the sheets with her but Mr. Kingston threatens retaliation if anyone persisted."

The Englishman's grin deepened. "It is possible what you offer is very low for her talents?"

Mr. Kingston leaned forward, pushing Lydia with him. Her hands fell on the table for support, inches away from the Englishman's thick forearms. She stared at the few inches that separated their fingers from touching then back to the Englishman's eyes, and swallowed the large lump in her throat.

How would it feel to touch his pale skin? Are his hands soft? What nonsense are you thinking of, Lydia! She shook her head clear. She wasn't a whore, even though the man's gaze burned an unfamiliar fire in the pit of her belly.

Simple attraction, lust! She chastised herself as her eyes roamed his thick arms, broad shoulders and a chest she could only presume to be as hard as it was enticing from the little she could see from his parted collar and the two top undone buttons.

Lydia felt her body flush when her eyes travelled up his square jaw and a face that both echoed power and enticement. Her breathe seized when her eyes met his. They darkened with desire Lydia had seen in the eyes of many men. But none were as imposing and alluring as his. He didn't drool, he had no reason to. His eyes clearly spoke his intentions and Lydia got the impression he'd seduced many women with just that look.

Those deep blue sea eyes....

"Listen Lord whatever your name is, she is mine and only mine. So drop your hunting!"

Mr. Kingston's threat seemed to amuse the man. He laughed while his eyes slowly moved over Lydia's visible body. Lydia felt her heart quicken under his consuming gaze. Never had a man made her so uncomfortable.

His eyes lingered on her breasts then rose to meet her own. "I'll give you triple what he gives you, for the night."

His voice was firm and direct. He was serious! But the most unbelievable thought, was that she was considering it. Not for the money he promised, but just to see him naked, to feel his hard body against hers.

Lydia sat back away from the table. It wasn't in her nature to let a man control her, and she was quickly losing her senses drowning in this man's eyes.

She was there for business not pleasure.

She smiled then tapped on the table to signal to the dealer to shuffle the cards. "Why not discuss this after we are done playing?"

*****

After their arrival in America, Nicholas felt the need to go out and stretch the knots in his body that had formed after spending six weeks on a ship. He was sure Christopher would want to go to the mining site right away, but Melanie had persuaded him to rest. The nap meant to be an hour long became one-night long.

Nicholas was restless, and sleep would not help him, so he persuaded Mr. Simmons to go out with him. The butler had recommended the Dallas Palace. And until the red masked temptress walked in, it had been a bore.

There wasn't a woman in the establishment that caught his attention enough to provoke an arousal, but once 'Wildcat' sashayed in, his body stood alert, even before her man aided her in removing the cloak.

Nicholas watched as the black cloak slide off her petite bare shoulders to expose a red corset that exposed just enough breasts and the curve of her derriere, and long stocking clad legs. Her mask added onto the alluring enticement and an instant fantasy of tapping her in every position he knew came to mind.

He wanted her clothed just as she was as he quenched his body of six weeks' hunger. Then maybe he'd want her nude...

But no, that would ruin his Wildcat fantasy. Hopefully she was a Wildcat during sex.

The thought made him clench his jaw to hold back the groan.

Six weeks was too long.

He hadn't been paying attention to the game. He was just listening to her voice, wondering how it would sound in the throes of ecstasy. He only realised that Mr. Kingston, thanks to the Wildcat, had recovered most of what he had lost when he cheered loudly and she settled an arrogant gaze on him.

Does she pleasure as well as she gambles?

He smiled at her gasp when their eyes met. She had beautiful, faint blue eyes that popped with the blood red mask she had covering half her face. Her eyes pulled away from his then began roaming the little of his body that was visible. His grin deepened. It wouldn't be difficult to get her to abandon her protector for the night.

His eyes began to do his own survey.

She was a slight thing, probably less than half his size. His eyes settled on her breasts. There was nothing spectacular about them but they weren't what made his member throb. It was her confidence and that cocky smile she had when she rescued Mr. Kingston.

His eyes rose to meet hers again. He laughed, not only because of Mr. Kingston's insistence to leave his Wildcat alone, but how quickly her skin flushed under his gaze.

Oh, she would make a very responsive lover.

The only thing keeping him out of her bed was Mr. Kingston, for he could clearly see she desired him by how her chest heaved heavily under his gaze. It was all about the right price.

"So, how much does he pay you? I'll triple it right now."

Mr. Kingston banged his fisted hand on the table making her jump. Not out of fear, but right out of her daze.

"I said no, man!"

Nicholas drew his eyes away from Wildcat and settled an angry glare at her protector. His insistence was beginning to get on his last nerve.

Wynn leaned close to whisper in his ear, "Townson, she's not worth it. You are about to provoke a brawl."

Nicholas shifted his eyes back to his object of desire. "That is of no concern of mine. I want her," he said aloud, not caring if Mr. Kingston heard him.

Nicholas raised his brow at her new expression. It quickly shifted from surprise to anger.

"Do I have no say in the matter?" she challenged.

Her voice was strong, direct and yet seductive. Nicholas definitely wanted her in his bed, probably longer than a night.

"The only say you have is the amount of monies you want to be paid," he retorted.

She leaned in. "My lord, by the end of the night you will have nothing to offer me to join your bed."

Nicholas laughed then leaned in close and whispered huskily, "Is that so?"

He saw the awareness flash in her eyes before she gained her composure. She leaned back, dragging the cards dealt to her slowly on the table with her. She held them up, her eyes still keen on his. "I hope you came with a heavy purse from England."

Nicholas pulled back, taking his cards with him. "You shouldn't worry about that. I have enough to keep you for a month."

Mr. Kingston banged his fist on the table again. "For goodness sake, man! I will not repeat myself!"

Wynn slapped Nicholas's shoulder. "Townson, Ashworth is not here to help you if a fight erupts!" he whispered anxiously.

Nicholas shifted an unconcerned eye to Mr. Kingston then to Wynn. Then he slowly shifted his eyes back to Wildcat.

"In the interest of keeping the peace," Wildcat began, "why not gamble for it?"

Nicholas smiled, his interest peaked. "Gamble for what?"

She returned the smile. Her thin red lips pulled at him. They were just begging to be kissed. "Let us up the stakes."

Nicholas lifted his brow. "In addition to the fortune you promised to strip me of?"

Her red lips spread into a wider smile. He could imagine one particular place he would enjoy those lips touching...

"Me. When I win three games out of five, you have to abandon your pursuit."

Nicholas liked this, he liked it a lot. "And what of when I win?"

Mr. Fischer scoffed, "Not likely."

"What if I win?" Nicholas asked again, ignoring him.

She exhaled softly then bit down on her lower lip seductively and her desire filled eyes roamed his body making his member jump and tighten harder. "You may shackle me to your bed for a month."

She licked her lower lip, suckled it into her mouth, released it slowly then smiled. Nicholas groaned. She knew what she was doing to him and was taking complete pleasure in his rising need.

Whether or not he won, he was going to bed her before he left American soil. "Well, Wildcat, you have yourself a deal."

He grabbed her hand before she could retract far from his reach. Keeping his eyes locked in her startled ones he lifted her wrist to his lips and pressed a long kiss on the pulse. She drew in a sharp breath the same moment her pulse jumped against his lips.

He pulled in a breath as his eyes roamed her person again. A shade of red moved up from the top of her breasts to her neck and finally her cheeks. He chuckled then released her. "You will enjoy me more than you do your protector."

Her eyes widened, with what he was sure was shock at his boldness. Her protector on the other hand turned red for a different reason, but Nicholas could care less.

*****

It only took two hours for Lydia to beat the Englishman. She knew it was silly to admit it but she was sad the sexual banter had come to an end. It would have taken less than two hours to beat him if she wished it, but she wanted to prolong it. So, she let him win two games and they played one more as the tie breaker.

Sadly, she lain the cards down, "Well, my lord, it seems you'll have to find pleasure in another's arms."

The Englishman leaned back in his chair. He settled a knowing gaze on Lydia which made her uncomfortable. His eyes suggested he knew a secret about her, which she as well as everyone else on the table was not privy to.

"It seems I'm not the only one who's disappointed by the outcome," he said casually.

Yes, that was the secret but she would have preferred that no one else found out. She pulled her lips into a forced smile. "You mistake my exhaustion for disappointment, my lord."

He leaned forward. "Then allow me to escort you home."

Lydia laughed then stood up from her chair. She'd vacated Mr. Kingston's lap before they began the game. His possessiveness was beginning to infuriate her. "Nice try, my lord."

The Englishman stood with her, his laugh reaching his eyes. "I'll admit I've been caught. But you must accept my offer to see you safely to your carriage."

Lydia gave him a look from his leather boots, up his taut legs, powerful thighs, narrow mid, broad torso with equally broad shoulders and thick muscular arms she lusted to have wrapped around her.

Mr. Kingston cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. "That will not be necessary," he said as he stood up. "My man Tom is at her disposal."

Lydia's mood quickly changed to irritation. "My lord, I wouldn't mind an escort to the door. Tom must be waiting on me in the carriage."

The Englishman chuckled. "Well then, it's decided. Shall we?" he held his hand out to her.

Her heart skipped. She was suddenly not so sure about being alone with him. His lips spread in a deep grin. He bit on his lower lip like he was attempting to keep from laughing, but the movements of his chest betrayed him. He was laughing at her!

She lifted the cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Ignoring his hand, she turned to the table. "Gentlemen, until next time."

Mr. Kingston grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. "Wildcat..." his voice echoed the doubt and worry she saw on his face. His doubt in her irked her, but it was understandable. The Englishman was a temptation, enough to get a weak minded woman to grant his every wish.

She wasn't a weak minded woman.

She placed her hand over his and squeezed. "I would never betray you," she said sternly but she could still see the struggle in his eyes. It was a big mistake that he depended on her so much. She wasn't the dependable type, but she was loyal.

She leaned closer to him and kissed his cheek. "Next time, wait for me to arrive before you lay your fortune on the table again."

He laughed and she could clearly see the tension leave him. "I give you my word."

He released her and the Englishman quickly claimed her arm, making her body sing from the contact. Fearfully, she looked at his grip on her arm and with much effort, avoided looking at his face as he led her out.

"You care very much for him, don't you?" She heard his voice close to her ear. His warm breath caressing her throat.

She was glad the hallway was dark, or her obvious reaction to him would be visible. "I do what I can to help."

He chuckled. "You do more than that."

Then suddenly she was pulled, turned and pinned against the wall. She hadn't the chance to catch her breath when she felt his body press flush against hers, pinning her harder against the wall. She felt his breathe on her neck as his hands traced a path of fire from her hips to the sides of her breasts. She knew she should push him away, but she could barely breathe. When he began planting feathery kisses from her shoulder to her jaw, her knees buckled.

She grew lightheaded, her breaths coming short and heavy. She felt herself slide down the wall. Then something thick and massive tucked between her thighs and pushed her back up and higher off her feet to the tip of her toes. She gasped when her sensitive knob came into contact with his solid thigh. Her hands shot up to his back. She sighed loudly at the feel of his hard back muscles flexing under her touch.

I should let go, push him away! But her body wouldn't cooperate. Instead her fingers dug into him and she pushed him against her as he sucked hard on one arousing spot on her neck. She moaned, wishing she knew his name.

I don't even know his name! But shit, what he's doing to me! She moaned again, the fire in the pit of her stomach burning fiercely.

She'd been assaulted before but never had she wanted to cheer her attacker on. She never reacted so wantonly to a man's touch. It was wonderful!

He placed his hands on her ass and squeezed hard. Lydia gasped, pulling her hands from his back and locking them around his neck. His groan vibrated deliciously on her neck and right to her toes but she wanted her lips to enjoy what her neck was receiving.

She buried her hands in his hair and pulled his head away from her neck, then down to crush her lips against his in a fiery kiss. She got lost, his tongue seducing hers. She needed more, she demanded more and he eagerly gave it to her.

He slipped his hands into her drawers and she felt his warm palms cup and caress her bare derriere. Then he quickly lifted her up, forcing her to wrap her thighs around his waist. With a harsher groan, he ground his pulsing member against her aching core making her gasp loudly in his mouth.

He pulled his lips away and she whined her disapproval. He chuckled and kissed her deeply before he pulled away again. "I bet no man has ever made you feel the way I do?"

She shook her head and whispered, "No," then tagged his lower lip back into her mouth.

He ground himself against her again then thrust hard against her making her cry out in both pain and pleasure.

"I want you," he whispered in a raspy voice against her lips.

She wanted him too but she couldn't find her voice to say it. Her eyes flew open when she felt his finger stroke her wet flesh. She shuddered, her fingers digging deep into his shoulders.

He crushed his lips against hers as he stroked her, gently at first, and then fast, hard and in circular motions. She pushed him away, the sensation growing to unbearable heights. She wanted him to stop his torture and yet she didn't. But she'd die if he didn't stop!

"Stop! Pl-please... stop!" she cried.

He slipped a finger inside her and her entire body shuddered. Her stomach coiled like it was attempting to push something out and all that came was a gasping cry.

He bit her chin lightly. "Are you sure?"

She shook her head then nodded. He chuckled at her response. Shit! Her wit had evaded her.

His merciless ministration went on as his finger pumped inside her, slow then fast. She felt his tongue on her nipple and instantly the ground fell from under her. Her body tightened as her orgasm tore through her with a loud cry.

Lydia slumped against him as she tried to catch her breath. She turned her head into his shoulder and kissed his neck. "That... was... incredible!" she gasped.

He chuckled. "I'm glad you liked it." He pulled his hands from her drawers and slid her down until her feet touched the ground.

She held onto his arms, not trusting her legs to hold her up unsupported. "Your fingers are talented, my lord," she said laughingly.

He held his hand up and exhibited his wet middle finger. Lydia watched him put his finger into his mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked on it lustfully.

Lydia swallowed hard as she fell back against the wall. She couldn't believe she was becoming aroused again.

He opened his eyes and slowly pulled his finger out of his mouth. Then he rubbed it on her lower lip. "You taste wonderful."

"Yes," she blurted out unconsciously.

"Yes what?"

Yes, what, Lydia?

"I'll go with you," she blurted out again.

What are you doing, Lydia!

He stared at her with an arched brow, his lips pulled in a lopsided grin. She sighed. No wonder she was speaking nonsense!

"I would like nothing more." He took her hand and pressed it against his erection. She jumped, startled but didn't pull away. He was large! Curiously, she stretched her fingers and felt his entire member. He was long and thick!

His eyes fluttered shut as he groaned. He tightened his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand in place as he pushed himself into her palm.

She smiled. It was her turn to administer the torture. She wasn't sure of what to do but it couldn't possibly be that difficult. She might sit on the gambling table but she wasn't blind to what happened around her. She could use her mouth or her hand to pleasure him, but she wasn't sure all of him would fit in her mouth.

Lydia, what are you doing? That little voice yelled in her mind again.

Seeking pleasure in the dark hallways of a brothel wasn't an activity she partook in, it was all about business. But one night of pleasure was something she deserved. She may never gain an opportunity to be ravished by a perfect English noble ever again. Contrary to what Tom believed, she had no intention of living as a spinster.

Yes. She deserved some pleasure from this cruel life fate had handed her.

She slid her hand slowly down his torso, feeling the hard plains of his chest and the deep lines of his abdomen. Then she stopped at the top of his breeches. She questioned herself for a second but quickly dispensed of her fear. Before the doubt settled in, she undid the top button of his breeches and quickly slid her hand in.

He didn't wear drawers! And his penis, was soft as silk and yet hard as steel!

He groaned loudly, releasing her wrist and planting both his hands on the wall above her head. He pressed forward, trapping her against the wall, until her lips pressed against his chest. She brushed his shirt away, opening more of the buttons in order to touch her lips to his naked skin.

She inhaled his musky scent as she kissed him up to his collar, then he leaned down and she kissed his neck and then his under his jaw. He was hard, broad, chiselled and perfect.

"Wildcat, you are driving me crazy!" he groaned.

"Oh, would you like me to release you?" she teased with a laugh.

He pressed himself harder into her palm. "Don't you dare!"

She opened the rest of the buttons on his breeches to create more room to move her hand. The rest of his penis jumped free and pressed into her stomach. She looked down and swallowed hard. He was long, longer than she first thought!

"Move... now... please!" His voice sounded strained and rough.

She moved her fist from the hilt to the tip slowly. He began to pant as his hips rocked back and forth mimicking her hand. She tightened her hold and a low groan sounded above her. Encouraged, she pumped faster and his breaths grew shorter and harsher. Seeing him react to her ministration made her reach up, pull his head down and kiss him hard, pushing her tongue inside his mouth and mimic his tongue play as she pumped, her body filled with fresh desire.

She felt him stiffen, and then he quickly turned to the side and wrapped his hand around hers to tighten the hold on him. He shuddered with a loud groan and then his body sagged against her.

She felt proud, the reason why was lost to her. But the smile on his face was rewarding. Her first time pleasuring a man and he enjoyed it—they both enjoyed it.

He leaned down and kissed her lightly on her lips. "That was wonderful, Wildcat."

She bit her lower lip. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I didn't expect such skill."

She looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

He set himself right then caressed her cheek. "I know you are a virgin."

She pushed his hand away like it was hot iron. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you come here if you aren't a whore? Who is Mr. Kingston to you?"

She felt her whole fantasy shutter. The look of pity in his face angered her. There was nothing she despised more than being pitied.

She drew her cloak forward to cover herself. "If you didn't want me in your bed why did you not just say so. There are many more men where you came from!"

She pushed him back and hurried away.