Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

“Yes, yes!”

Phillip watched the woman who rode him with such abandon. She didn’t try to hide her want of him. It went as deep as his for her.

Her nails dug into his chest as she took what she wanted from him, unashamed of how her body moved in the moonlight. Sun, moon, he didn’t care. She was beautiful, sexy, and all his.

Her breasts moved as she worked her hips, taking him in deep, grinding, then rising up. She had no set rhythm to her actions, she was going off instinct, and it was killing him. He gripped her hips tighter but didn’t impede her.

The heavy drapes to his windows were wide open, allowing the moonlight to surround them. She sat still, his cock deep inside her, and opened her eyes to meet and hold his gaze.

“You are not moving, Fyre.”

Her smile did something to his insides, made him want to smile back and make her laugh. It was so innocent and full of trust. Humbling.

“I love how you feel in me.” A small hip swivel. “You fill me”—she bit her lower lip—“so full.”

“Do you love me?”

She narrowed her eyes and moved her hands down his chest, nails scraping his skin with enough bite to make him want more, but not enough to hurt.

“I love spending time with you.”

He shifted his hold and thrust up, making her gasp, her head tipping back, exposing the gentle line of her throat. The scars there didn’t take away from her elegance.

“Not what I asked.”

“Make me come.”

He couldn’t stop his smile. This woman, who had been shy, who he’d had to coax to tell him what she wanted him to do, had found herself now and was demanding. He loved it. But then, he loved her as well.

“You want it, take it. Just like you were doing.” He skimmed his hands up her sides, swiping his thumbs along her taut nipples before moving his hold back to her hips.

She bent forward, her hair tumbling around them both. “I want you to do it.” Nose to nose. “Claim me.”

An order he had no problem following. “I already have,” he growled as he flipped them over so she lay beneath him.

Phillip stretched her arms out over her head, wrists grasped in one of his hands as he wrapped a handful of her hair in his other. “You belong to me, Fyre, and I will kill anyone who touches you in such a manner.” He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained inside her heated core.

“I have no want of another.” Her gentle but hungry smile soothed the beast in him. “Not even when you find your countess will I want another.”

He refused to think about anyone other than her. Driving home with a single direct stroke, he filled her, his mouth there to capture her gasp. He fucked her, using his tongue in the same demanding way as his cock.

She wanted to be claimed. He would do that. And more.

Eyes open, Phillip sat straight up in his bed. The darkness of the room told him it was far too early for any sane person to be up. On the other hand, he knew after that dream, he wasn’t going to be returning to sleep anytime soon.

He flopped back with a groan and rubbed his eyes. These dreams about Fyre were becoming more and more common. Not to mention harder to forget once he was out of bed.

Yesterday he’d had to step away a few times and stroke himself until he found his release because the thoughts of her wouldn’t stop. Everything reminded him of her. This time, right now, he ignored his cock and climbed out of bed.

He had been getting up earlier because when the heat of the day hit, one didn’t want to do anything. After washing up quickly with the water in his room, he dressed and headed down to the kitchens.

They were lit and busy as his staff made food. Perhaps sane people were up at this time. He grabbed a little and went out to the stable where he waited as they readied his horse. It wasn’t until a bit later that he realized he was on his way to Fyre’s, and he forced himself to stop.

That wouldn’t do. He could not just show up at her place this time of the morning. Adjusting his course, he went into town and realized only the tavern was open. Nothing more.

He walked in and looked about the place. Still rambunctious, but nothing worse than he’d seen in England. he recognized a few of the faces there and nodded greetings but didn’t stop to speak to anyone. He spied Caulfield off in the corner grinding on one of the females, one hand up her skirts while his other tugged down the top of her dress.

Anger filled him to think of this man daring to even touch Fyre. This was where he should continue to look for his women. Phillip walked out and got back on his horse. Then he went riding. By the time he finished, he’d realized two things. He needed to get more sleep, and he was far worse off than he’d initially imagined.

For he was once again in front of Fyre’s place. Morning’s light had begun to push away the night, casting a soft glow on all it touched.

He knocked on the door.

Realizing she may not want to open the door without knowing who was on the other side, he knocked again.

“Fyre, it is Phillip. Open the door.”

She cracked it open, and the flickering candle inside made her skin glow. Lust slammed him and he gulped. Then he noticed the bruise and his stomach churned with anger.

“Who the fuck hit you?” He stepped toward her.

“My lord, what are you doing here at this hour?”

“Asking you a question. Let me in.”

“This is not proper.”

“Who. Hit. You?” The question was a low growl.

Her fingers, he noticed, trembled as she gently brushed over the spot. “You need not concern yourself. Please leave.”

She wouldn’t look him in the eyes and it was killing him.

“Come today, Fyre. Do not make me come after you.” He backed away and was riding off before he could think about it because he knew he had been seconds from pushing his way into her place. To hell with the consequences.

* * * *

All day he was antsy, waiting for her to arrive. He worked out in the fields with his men just to have his energy focused on something else. While it had been something he’d done before, even he could admit that today there was an almost possessed air about him as he worked.

He didn’t speak to the men beside him, not really, allowing them to do their thing. When the afternoon rolled around, he stopped to get clean. There was a small pool of water he’d discovered while riding that was secluded from others’ eyes. That was where he went and stripped down to nothing before jumping in.

It wasn’t something he would have enjoyed doing back in England, that was for sure, but here, the water was warm and moved like silk over his skin as he swam. Only once the sweat and grime was gone did he get out and tug his clothing back on. Did he want dirty clothing back on? No. However not even he was ready to be riding his horse in nothing.

Mood slightly better now that he’d sweated off his frustrations—most of them at least—then removed the sweat, he nudged his horse back toward home and ran over how little he missed England.

Sure, it would be nice to be able to stop by and see Lucien or Rafe, but the lifestyle, the rules, the matchmaking mamas… He shuddered. Hard pass.

Besides, he had his eye on someone here. Rules be damned.

Handing the reins off as he dismounted, he cracked his neck as he walked to the door. Keating opened it with a nod.

“My lord.”

“Afternoon, Keating. I’m going to need some food and…” He trailed off as a maid appeared with a footman carrying a tray of food. “You are good, Keating, but how did you know I was going to be hungry at this moment?”

“That is for your Ms. Fyre, my lord,” he said without batting an eye. “She arrived an hour ago to work on your books. As you told me she was to have all the access needed, she is in your study, looking over your new venture and setting up a new ledger for it.”

Heat slammed him, kicking his body’s temperature back up to where it had been before he’d taken the brief swim. He was already walking that way before the man finished. “Bring me something to eat as well.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Were his need to see Fyre not so strong, he would have looked back at Keating, swearing there was a bit of humor in the man’s tone. Perhaps the stodgy butler was softening just a bit.

Waiting in the doorway as they finished setting up her food, at his desk even, Phillip didn’t speak, just listened to Fyre interact with both the maid and the footman. How polite she was to each of them. The soft cadence of her voice settled something deep inside his chest even though she wasn’t looking at or speaking to him directly.

It was the woman. Her presence here. Her effect on him.

He stepped back when they turned and put a finger to his lips. Neither spoke, just walked by him and he took their place, moving farther into the room until he was hit with her scent.

Phillip still hadn’t figured out what it was she used in her soap to make her smell so tantalizing, but he would always recognize her.

For a moment, he stood there and stared down at her, taking in all of Fyre’s nuances. The way her hair was braided and wrapped around her head, how her collar was up, hiding the marks on her neck. The steady strokes she made with the pen as she wrote in a new book, working with care. He knew it was so she didn’t mess up. His woman was meticulous in her work and he admired the fuck out of her for it.

“Hello, Fyre.”

To her credit, she didn’t jump, but he knew he’d shocked her by the way the pen wobbled a tiny bit before she finished her current line. Then she looked up at him and his heart was lost once again.

Fyre didn’t understand what it was about this man that did these things to her. Logically she knew it was foolish to even think about allowing a relationship with him. He was a titled English lord and she was a dark-skinned nobody from the islands.

I do his books. That is all.

Yet, it wasn’t. He’d kissed her. Fleetingly? Yes. Did that make it any less powerful? Not in the slightest.

“Good afternoon, my lord. I will give you back your chair.”

“Nonsense. You are in the right place to work. I will sit in a different one after they bring my food. Unless you’d like to sit in my lap as you work.”

Her entire body trembled at the suggestion. She grew slick and she shifted on the seat.

Refusing to release his gaze, she gave him a smile. “As much fun as that would be, my lord, I do not believe you would be able to concentrate on your work.”

She bit the inside of her cheek as she waited to see how far she’d overstepped. Phillip stared at her before his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

It wasn’t something she saw him do with a lot of people. In fact, only one could she recall. His friend, the Marquess of Heartstone. With that man, he’d been predisposed to smile more. Other than with him, she’d not been able to recall another person that he’d smiled with. Besides her.

“Cheeky. And you are right, Fyre. My concentration would be shit with you on my lap. At least about numbers.” A slow blink. “Well, the ones you put in that book. I would have no problem with the ones keeping accounting of how many times I took you. How many times I made you scream my name while being bent over or spread out on this desk.”

His gaze darkened, reminding her of the storms that rolled in off the sea. Dark. Dangerous. Potent.

“Your food, my lord.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw but he didn’t move back. Nor closer. He was a suitable distance away from her, his hands in his pockets. Only then did she notice his clothing was wet. The servants bringing his food were there and gone in moments, leaving as silently as they’d come.

Using the distraction to pull her attention off the lord of this manor, Fyre went back to work, filling in the columns he would be using. She glanced up at the sound of another chair being dragged over. He sat on the same side as she but left distance between them. And food.

In her peripheral vision, she noted the way his strong fingers plucked things up off the main tray and placed them on a smaller plate before he slid it in her direction.

“Eat.”

There was a low command in the single word. She mulled that over in her mind as she finished up her current row.

Mainly, why had she considered doing that with just the slightest bit of hesitation? She should know better than to just follow anyone’s command. She’d worked hard to be her own person and individual. Hard to do with Elonne as her overprotective brother.

A flash of sorrow pierced her.

Not something I have to think or worry about any longer.

She put the pen back in its spot and stood as she reached for the plate.

“What are you doing?”

Fyre honestly tried not to look him in the eye. But, like everything else in regards to her when it came to this man, she was falling short of her mark. There were things she needed to be and do. Distant. Unfeeling. No fantasy. Massive failure on her part. Rolling her lower lip in her teeth, she blinked before she slid her gaze to his.

“Moving to eat somewhere that is not your desk.”

“Why?”

His question was straightforward and, try as she might, she couldn’t discover any hidden meaning in his inquiry.

“Because one in my position does not just eat at the desk of an earl.”

Phillip was against the side of the desk and in the process of fixing his own plate, but he stopped and pinned both those gray eyes of his on her. Insides clenching at the heat that sliced into his gaze, she fought the urge to shift or lick her lips.

“What exactly does that mean?”

Despite the bubbling heat in his stare, the words were icy.

“I may work at your desk, from time to time, even though I should stop doing that, but I should not be sitting there like the desk is mine when you are in the room. You should be seated here. This is your office, after all.”

“This is not stopping for a five-course meal, Fyre. This is us eating while we work. You are set up there and while I may be, okay, I am an asshole, I am not going to make you move.”

“This is not proper.” She lifted the plate and edged around the chair, freezing at the low growl that filled the room.

“I will tell you what is not going to be proper, me picking you up and putting you back there. Trust me, Fyre, when I have you in my arms, there are plenty of things I have in mind and none of them involve you working on that book or eating the food on that plate. If you are not inclined to learn what those are at this moment, sit in the goddamn chair and eat.”

Her instincts screamed for her to run but her muscles were locked and she couldn’t move. She lowered herself back to the chair slowly and, without looking at him, she reached for one of the sandwiches he’d placed on the plate for her. Nibbling at it, she kept her eyes forward until she’d swallowed the last bit.

Only then did she adjust herself to look at him. He stared at her, blatant hunger in his gaze, but he didn’t move from his seat.

“You are making me crazy, Fyre. You know I would never hurt you, right? And if you tell me no or to back off, I will.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Do you know this?”

“I trust you, Lord Edais. And yes, I know that.”

“I want to make sure, because while I am going to give you fair warning, I am coming after you. I do not want you to feel like my title makes it so you cannot say no to me.”

His tone was low and earnest. He had leaned closer to her, not moving the chair, but still, she felt him closer.

“When the time comes and you trust me enough to take you to bed.” A wink. “Or the desk, outside by the water, against a wall, everywhere, the minute you say no, that will stop it. I will never take advantage of you like that.”

Heat surged through her. She wanted that. To be consumed by this man. To have the courage to allow the spark between them to explode into the raging inferno she knew it would be.

Unable to hold his gaze, she put hers back to the desk and picked up the pen once more. Seconds later it was plucked from her hand.

“Eat.”

There he went being all growly again and her body reacted. Her nipples tightened, rubbed against the material of her clothing, and she struggled not to slide on the chair. The ache between her legs only grew.

Tipping her head up, she found him scowling down at her.

“Why are you scowling?”

“One tiny sandwich is not enough for you. If you do not want to eat, then perhaps we should talk about the dead man who dared to put his hand on you.” He blinked and gave a mocking smile. “I did not forget I saw the mark that someone hit you. Do you want to confirm who it was? I do know, Fyre. I have people all over this island who tell me things, but I want to hear it from you.”

She remained mute but shook her head. That wasn’t something she wished to get him involved in. It was her mess with her own brother. Not this man’s business. How the hell had he found out anyway, and who were his ‘people’ he had all over this island? Her home, not his.

“My lord,” Keating interrupted and Fyre yanked her gaze away from him, not wanting to risk the butler seeing her affection for his boss.

She sat back in the chair and took another sandwich even as she picked up the pen again.

Phillip narrowed his gaze but turned to face the butler. The second those intense eyes were off her, she took a deep breath, needing the break. The earl’s presence was a lot for her.

The man in question had walked over to speak to the butler and she didn’t even attempt to listen. She allowed the world of numbers to pull her back in, calming her nerves and making things right once more. Even as she ate the food on the plate, she worked.

Only after looking up once she had finished did she realize that they were once again the only two in the room. Phillip leaned back in the chair he’d dragged closer and had his ankle resting on his other leg as he watched her unabashedly.

“All finished, my lord.” She replaced the pen and almost reached up to see if her hair was still confined. He brought out nervous tendencies in her.

“You love numbers.”

She nodded and rose from the chair, setting the plate back on the tray. “I do.”

“Good. Now sit back down and explain how you just set up my new venture.”

“It is the same as your others, my lord. You told me you understood those.”

He shrugged unrepentantly. “This is different.”

Suspicion flared. “You are doing this on purpose.”

His grin was wicked. “Scared?”

Only that she might not be able to behave. “No, my lord.”

He gestured to the chair she had just gotten out of. “Then take your seat. Unless you would like to do this on the settee.”

Heat raced through her at the thought of being pressed close to him in a smaller space.

“Here is fine, my lord.”

“I cannot wait for the day you call me Phillip.” His words were low and intimate.

Ignoring the screaming voice in her head that told her this was a mistake, she responded, the brutally honest words sliding free. “I do every night in my dreams.”

She’d never known gray could swirl with such passion and heat.