Lady Alexandra's Lover (Sex and the Season #3) - Helen Hardt Page 0,29

wanted to rip off those offending drawers and suck her cunny dry then and there! But I settled for finding her nub and touching it ever so lightly.

She gasped and trembled against me. “My lady, that feels…oh!”

I continued to slide my fingers over her clitoris whilst I twisted one nipple with my other hand. “Might I kiss this nipple, my dear?” I asked.

“Please,” she begged.

I lowered my lips to the lovely bud and flicked my tongue over it, still working her hard button with my other hand. I itched to slide a finger into her quim, but I held off. Slowly, Amelia, the way you taught me. I closed my lips around the nipple and sucked. Such softness beneath my tongue, Amelia. How I’ve missed frolicking with you! I kissed the flesh around the nipple, and then clamped back on, nibbling gently.

Her quim gushed over my hand. Oh, that I had a hard cock to shove into her at that moment! But alas, I’d have to settle for eating that delicious cunt. And that would wait until later.

And then…oh, Amelia, it was thrilling! She climaxed against my hand, my lips still around her nipple. She quivered against me, moaning, groaning, and I bit down hard on that tight little nipple. By now, I was so wet I was ready to climax again myself without much coaxing.

Chapter 9

Jenkins reddened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my lord.”

“Someone found an underground newspaper circulating in Bath. Apparently it’s been traced back to this printing house.”

“Where did you get this information?”

“From a loyal source, I assure you. Now do you care to tell me what is going on?”

Jenkins cleared his throat. “You’d have to ask the night crew, my lord. I can assure you that nothing of that sort has come through on my watch.”

Evan looked into the back—the whirring of the presses, the typographers making prints… He loved the printing and publishing business. He loved printed matter, especially books, and now that the industrial revolution had dawned, the demand for mass produced printed media was high.

He had bought the business—which also included branches in London and in Edinburgh—a few years ago. His business was now thriving and was responsible for the majority of the printing in the area. He prided himself on having the newest presses and was delving into lithography as well. Evan had attended the great exhibition organized by the Queen’s husband, Prince Albert, in 1851. It had attracted 13,000 exhibitors from all industrial nations. Evan had taken advantage of the new technology he witnessed during the exhibition and had brought as much of it as he could to his business. While he printed newspapers and flyers and material for the theaters and other businesses in town, he prided himself on his printed novels, and most recently on his new color printing. There was no careless work at his company—no upside-down lowercase B was ever used for a lowercase G. Nor did his company use the excessive ornamentation that was so prevalent in current society. This was a high class operation.

Evan knew that his brother, Jacob, would never insist that he leave the Brighton estate once he inherited the earldom, but Evan did not want to be a burden on his family. He had decided long ago that he would make his own way in the world, and he had done quite well for himself. Perhaps he was not worth as much as Alexandra’s Mr. Landon, but he was well on his way.

Drat. Why had he thought of Alexandra and Mr. Landon? The man was nowhere near good enough for her. She was smart and beautiful and had been through so much in her short life. She deserved better than a common philanderer.

“Very well, then,” Evan said. “I shall return early in the morning before the night clerks leave. And we shall get to the bottom of this.”

Evan left the building and got into his carriage. Then he thought better and spoke to the coachman. “We won’t be going home after all. I’d like to take a room in town for the evening.”

“Of course, my lord. Which inn would you prefer?”

“Wherever I can get the best meal. I need a few hours of sleep before I sneak in on the night crew.”

* * *

After gorging herself on the meal Sophie had brought her, Ally changed into her night rail and readied for bed. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her. She ached all over, though the headache powder had helped a