The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance (4 page)

“That was a
quick one,” Johnson said, wiping his mouth.

“I was thinking
about your tight arse,” Rafe said. “It does it every time.”

Johnson grinned
and drawing away from him started to tidy up the clothes strewn on
the floor.

Rafe stretched
on the bed, slung his arms above his head languidly and happily
watched him go about his work. “Had any women while we’ve been
here?” he asked.

“Just that
chamber maid, the chubby one with the big tits. She goes like the
clappers.”

“I know,” Rafe
laughed. “She is rather vocal with it too. So much moaning and
yelling!”

“I’ll say! I
fingered her in church last Sunday. Pulled her skirt up and stuck
two fingers in and I thought she was going to give the game away
she was panting so loudly.”

“Fucked her
yet?”

“Of course. I
had her the day we got here, up against the scullery wall.”

“Well done my
man, you beat me to it.”

“Begging for
it, that one. Permanently on heat. I can’t go below stairs without
her dragging me off and getting my cock out. I tell you, the
thing’s going to fall off.”

“Can’t say I
blame her,” Rafe said, his eyes drifting to his manservant’s
crotch. “You have a particularly fine specimen.”

“Perhaps I
should sneak her in here one night. I bet she would like your big
cock up her arse while I fuck her wet cunt.”

“God, man,”
groaned Rafe, his hand wandering to his rapidly hardening cock.
“You are getting me all riled up again.”

“Well I am here
to serve,” Johnson smirked.

“Get your
clothes off,” Rafe growled, “And come here.”

“Doesn’t sir
want to go down to breakfast?”

“No sir
doesn’t,” he said, eagerly watching his valet unbutton his
breeches. “Sir has a need to shove his big cock somewhere nice and
tight.”

Rafe made a
scandalously late appearance at the breakfast table. It was in fact
lunchtime and Sophie was looking none too pleased.

“Everyone else
has gone to town,” she said sulkily. “I am stuck here with William
and Arthur.”

And the
governess, Rafe thought, his cock twitching back to life under the
table. The luscious governess, left alone for him to stalk. If he
could just find something to occupy Sophie…

“Miss Kemp and
I are going to take the boys for a walk in the woods. Would you
care to join us?”

He was hardly
likely to turn down an opportunity like that. He was not going to
miss any chance he got to ogle the new governess, that delicious
piece of flesh, the mere thought of which had made him come so
violently yesterday.

An hour later
Rafe was in the most exquisite agony. William and Arthur ran
whooping through the trees, brandishing the large sticks they had
found, and Rafe had a large stick of his own. It was currently
threatening to pop the buttons of his breeches.

The governess
innocently perched on the wide bough of a fallen tree watching the
boy’s boisterous antics with an indulgent smile.

“Don’t you find
them too much?” Rafe asked, puzzled by her patience. “Too noisy?
Too wild?” All the governesses before her had spent their time
berating the boys and unsuccessfully trying to quell their
enthusiasm.

“No,” she said
in her slightly husky voice and turning her green eyes on him,
added, “It is my belief that boys need to be wild now and then. It
is in their nature,” and she smiled as her gaze momentarily rested
on the tent in his breeches.

He gulped and
asked, “And you don’t wish to tame their natural instincts?”

“I certainly do
not!” she smiled, “They just need their energies directing a little
and they will grow into fine men.”

At those last
two words, her voice cracked and her gaze swept over him again,
leaving him with no illusions about who else she might consider
fine. The minx, he thought, as his prick throbbed. He had to get
her on her own as soon as possible, and find out if she wished to
do more than just look.

On the way back
to the house, as Sophie and the boys ran ahead, Rafe reached out
and grabbing her hand he pushed her against the rough bark of the
nearest tree. A reckless move, he knew, but he was a desperate
man.

“Sir,” she said
calmly. “What are you doing?”

“What does it
look like I am doing?” he growled as his lips made contact with the
creamy skin of her neck.

Her hands
grasped his biceps as if to push him off but instead she moaned as
his tongue licked her fragrant skin.

“Sir,” she said
again and then moaned, “Oh sir!” as his wandering hands found their
target and palmed her heaving breast. The firm flesh filled his
hand and he squeezed as he sucked at her neck, ramming his aching
prick against her leg.

“You consume
me,” he snarled as his fingers found her hard nipple through the
thin lawn of her dress. “I must have you.”

He was about to
take possession of her mouth when she rested her palms firmly on
his chest and pushed him away. “Control yourself Sir,” she
admonished. “We are out in the open.”

The fog in
Rafe's lust addled brain cleared sufficiently for him to
acknowledge the truth of the matter, even though he was on the
verge of throwing caution to the wind and fucking her hard against
the damn tree.

His hand was
still on her breast and he reluctantly withdrew it.

She laughed
tightly. “You reputation is certainly true Lord Langham.”

“My
reputation?” he asked, attempting a look of innocence as he ran his
hand through his hair.

She laughed
again. “Oh come, my Lord! You are renowned as the worst rake in the
ton. I have heard no Lady is safe from your appetites.”

Even though he
had only just energetically demonstrated the truth of her
statement, he couldn’t help feeling annoyed.

“And there is
that other matter…” she said, her eyes lowering to the stiff pole
threatening to burst from his breeches.

“What other
matter?” he stammered.

“I have heard,”
she said. “That you are also the most ... generous rake in the
ton.” She reached out her hand and cupped his tackle, running her
thumb along the full length of his shaft, making him jerk and
groan. “It seems they were not exaggerating.”

His breath came
out in a hiss as she deftly undid his buttons and reached inside to
stroke his turgid flesh. Cum churned in his balls and threatened to
leap up his cock, but he held back and merely dripped pre cum onto
her questing fingers.

“We are out in
the open, Madam,” he said slowly, feeling as if his fevered
fantasies had somehow conjured up a particularly vivid
hallucination.

“Indeed we
are,” she said crisply and withdrew her hand. “Let us catch up with
Sophie and the boys.” And she pushed herself off the tree and with
a swish of skirts, turned and continued on her way as if nothing at
all of any consequence had occurred.

Rafe followed
her, his cock still leaking cum, and wondered what it would feel
like to be buried balls deep in her hot cunt.

Chapter 7

The Governess is Surprised

In which the
governess takes a walk on the wild side.

Charlotte lay
in bed on her first night in her new home, her thoughts wandering
along a dangerous path. Memories of Randall came unbidden no matter
how hard she tried to suppress them. During the day she could
forget him, just about, but at night memories and images invaded
her dreams and woke her, her sex wet and throbbing with unrequited
arousal. The things that man had done to her! The forbidden
pleasures he had given her! The wicked games he had played. At
first he had been the very picture of a devoted father and employer
but she had soon learnt the depravity that burned under that smooth
surface. He had teased and taunted and played with her until she
had been helpless to resist, and once she had given herself to him
there were no boundaries he would not cross. He had taught her
pleasures beyond imagination, how to enjoy pain and even on
occasion had shared her with his friends. Her hand went down to her
pulsing sex as she remembered that one particular night when three
men had stripped her naked and penetrated her in so many places
with their eager cocks. How she had stayed sane enough to take
proper care of sweet Letitia she did not know, not when the child’s
father had reduced her to nothing but a desperate well of need. And
when she looked at the Earl of Langham’s beautiful face and the hot
need in his eyes she was terribly afraid that he was cut from the
same cloth as Randall. It was imperative that she protect herself
from such dangerous men.

Fortunately,
after such a disturbed night, the house was quiet all morning, the
crowds of guests having taken themselves off to town, and Charlotte
spent a few peaceful hours in the schoolroom attempting to teach
William and Arthur their alphabet, the tortured thoughts of last
night long gone.

They were
heading downstairs to lunch, William chattering away incessantly
about the fish he had caught yesterday, when the door just ahead of
them suddenly swung open and a man stepped out.

“Hello!” said
William, not pausing for breath. “Did you see the fish I caught
yesterday?”

The man was
taken aback for a moment and he stood with one hand still on the
doorknob his other arranging his neckcloth. His cheeks were
flushed, Charlotte noticed and he was so tall and broad he filled
the corridor. Then he smiled, a dazzling smile that revealed one
dimple in his manly face. He was very handsome, and Charlotte’s
mouth dropped open before she quickly clamped it shut again.

“Indeed I did,
Master William,” he smiled. “The most enormous fish I have ever
seen!”

He had a slight
northern accent and from this Charlotte surmised, he was in fact a
servant, but he did not carry himself like a servant, and his
jacket was well cut, fitting his broad shoulders beautifully.

His eyes left
William and settled on her. “Eddie Johnson,” he said and held his
hand out. Charlotte’s pale hand disappeared into his big fist and
she felt his radiating warmth. “You must be the new Governess,” he
said. “I’ve heard all about you.”

Charlotte was
staring again seemingly incapable of speech. What was it about the
men in this house? Her hand settled on Arthur’s shoulder to steady
herself and she finally managed to say, “Charlotte Kemp.”

“Nice to meet
you Charlotte Kemp,” he grinned. “Are you going down to lunch?” His
voice was impossibly deep and husky.

“Yes and then
for a walk!” William said, taking Charlotte’s hand and pulling her
down the corridor. “I’m going to find some sticks.”

“Who was that?”
she asked William as they descended the stairs.

“Only Johnson,”
William said absent-mindedly. “Cousin Rafe’s man.”

My God, thought
Charlotte. The Earl of Langham had a valet who was every bit as
beautiful as him. How was she ever going to get any sleep now?

Charlotte had
been looking forward to exploring the cool woods almost as much as
William but to her great consternation, the Earl of Langham decided
to accompany them.

She had
presumed he had gone to town with the others but when she entered
the dining room, he was sitting at the table with Sophie whom
appeared to be scolding him for his late appearance.

“It is one
o’clock in the afternoon, Rafe,” she was saying, her little mouth
set in a disapproving line. “What on earth have you been doing all
morning?”

The Earl just
dragged his hand through his untidy hair and took a bite of his
pie, his eyes landing on Charlotte and not leaving, even when he
reached for the decanter of wine.

An hour later,
she was perched on a log, deep in the woods and his eyes were still
on her, making her skin feel hot and uncomfortable. He lounged
against a tree and occasionally glanced away from her to watch
William and Arthur run madly around Sophie, waving their treasured
sticks in the air. What happy little boys they were, thought
Charlotte, their uninhibited pleasure reminding her of her own lost
childhood.

“Don’t you find
them too much? Too noisy, too wild?” he asked.

She smiled at
that. The Earl was clearly expecting her to find these boisterous
boys a ‘handful’ as all the other Governesses had, but he did not
know Charlotte and the life she had led.

“No,” she said.
“It is my belief that boys need to be wild now and then. It is in
their nature.”

“And you don’t
wish to tame their natural instincts?”

No, thought
Charlotte, watching the Earl’s long leg bend to rest his boot on
the tree bough, I only wish to tame my own. “They just need their
energies directed a little and they will grow into fine men.”

The moment she
had said it, she regretted it because the Earl gave her his slow
and lazy smile and she felt her traitorous loins begin to ache once
again, and they had not stopped aching as they all made their way
out of the woods. He would insist on walking beside her, or just
behind her, his shoulders occasionally brushing against hers, his
smoky blue eyes always on her.

Then Sophie and
the boys ran ahead and he took the opportunity to take her hand and
before she could protest she found herself pushed against a tree,
her breath coming out in a surprised gasp.

“Sir! What are
you doing?” she asked, at least attempting to sound like a
virtuously shocked lady despite the fact that his lips on her neck
had instantly reduced her to wanting to grab hold of his shoulders
and rub wantonly against him.

“What does it
look like I’m doing?” he growled in a voice that tightened her
nipples.