He could imagine them like this. Being able to so clearly see a life with her should have scared him, considering their arrangement. They didn’t have a future—they had three weeks.
It was a nice fantasy. “Have you found what you needed yet?” She’d moved out of his field of vision.
“Almost.”
Several minutes passed before she joined him with a book in hand. Instead of taking the chair beside him, she knelt at his feet with a wicked gleam in her eye.
“What are you up tae, lass?”
“Educating myself.” She winked. “I found a reference text,” Lottie said, holding up the book. He glanced at the title and gripped the arms of the chair tighter. So she’d found that section of the library after all. And now she knelt at his feet. God help him.
“It says here that I…well. That doesn’t sound so difficult. Sounds rather fun actually.”
She wasn’t talking to him, but he was intrigued to see where this was going. Given the title of the book in her hand and her position between his knees, Ethan’s body was already warming to the myriad ideas running through his head.
When her fingers loosed the first button of his breeches, he muttered an expletive and she froze. “Is something the matter, Ethan?”
He shook his head, praying she’d continue. In the open placket, his cock stood at half-mast to meet her. Watching Lottie wrap her lovely mouth around him starred in many fantasies, so breathing evenly was rather difficult. For her to instigate this left him at a loss for words—polite words, anyway. Giving the head of his erection a small kiss, she gently sucked the tip into her mouth, watching his face for a reaction, and the need for being polite disappeared. “Bloody fecking hell,” he whispered.
Fully in the playful role of educating herself, she sat back on her heels, holding the book in one hand and perusing the page while the other stroked him to full hardness with a slow, torturous rhythm. The urge to lean his head back and enjoy overwhelmed him, but Ethan didn’t want to miss a moment of watching Lottie. Just her hand felt a thousand times better than his own, and Lord knew he’d spent enough time holding his dick lately.
“I think I can take it from here.” Setting the book aside, she grinned saucily up at him. With a deliberate lick, she traced a line from the base to the plump head of his penis, stopping to suck his shaft along the way, sending ripples of pleasure vibrating down his legs. “Ethan, why do you smell like lemons?”
Of course she’d notice that—Lottie missed nothing. He huffed out an embarrassed laugh, rubbing a palm over his face. “You talked about the bath oil in front of me with the lady innkeeper. I bought a bottle, and I, uh, use it when I take myself in hand. It reminds me of you.”
She rested her cheek on his thigh, looking up at him through her lashes. One hand leisurely stroked him. “You’ve wanted me that long? Even when I hated you?”
Sinking his fingers into her curls, like he’d imagined doing so many times, he caressed her cheekbones with his thumbs. “Aye, I always wanted you. Always.” The rough timbre of his voice might have been arousal, but he suspected a different emotion compelled his admission—one that would scare her away if he named it aloud. It scared him a bit, how completely she’d conquered his heart.
She fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, running fingers over his stomach. “Confession time, I suppose. I watched you undress at the window the night of the musicale.”
He grinned. “I know.”
Laughing, she raised herself to her knees once more and pulled his head down for a kiss. Their flavors melded together, and he could have lost himself in her for the rest of the night if she hadn’t left his mouth to kiss his stomach. Working her way down, trailing fingers and lips, she explored his body until—finally—her mouth sank over his cock once more and he lost rational thought.
This woman was a dream. Hot, wet, and playful, she never let her hands rest. Noises rose from his throat in time with his hips as he met her in a cadence set by squeezing strokes of her fingers and sliding suction between her lips.
His grip on her hair tightened, not enough to pull, but acting as a tether to tie him to her lest he fly away under her wicked mouth. And he would come apart soon. Her fingernails grazed his tight sack, and that was it. “Lottie, love, I’m close,” he managed to gasp before his eyes rolled back in his head and pleasure sang through his blood, stealing his breath.
Lottie gave his cock one last pull with her mouth, then finished with her hands, gentling her grip as he came down from the climax. When he finally opened his eyes, she looked awfully pleased with herself.
“See? I told you I was an eager student.”
He laughed, letting his head fall back. “I do love a woman who reads.”
Chapter Eighteen
There goes your faux fiancé,” Agatha commented from the window.
Lottie’s hungry gaze followed his broad silhouette as he guided a cart and horse down the lane. After these last few days, the sight of him impacted her senses. She knew the feel of his skin, tanned from working outside, the salty taste, the smell of him. There were firm lines he insisted they not cross, but her fingers twitched, wanting more time exploring the smooth warmth of muscle and bone of those impressive shoulders.
This insistent craving for Ethan made her suspect she might be in over her head. Yesterday afternoon she’d visited the
