Carnal Knowledge Ch. 07

Her nephew shook his head. "That's not gonna be easy. The earl's plowing that furrow often, if you know what I mean." He snorted at his own joke then yelped when his aunt cuffed his ear.

"She's been nothing but a thorn in my side since she arrived. My sweet Lady Rockdale is probably rolling in her grave to see such goings on in her house."

George looked doubtful at this but shrugged. "Not much to be done about her."

Martha eyed him speculatively. "The earl won't be so quick to keep her around once he realizes what a slut she is." She nodded, warming to her idea. "You need to seduce the governess. Get her into your bed - one way or another - and leave the rest to me. We'll be sure he gets an eyeful."

"One way or another, eh?" George chuckled then frowned. "This better not cost me my job."

"Just get it done. And quickly."

***

Rockdale strode into the relative sanctuary of his rooms, jerking hard at his tie.

"Allow me, my lord," his valet said, scurrying over to give assistance.

"I'll do it myself," he said brusquely. "Get out."

Between his aunt's incessant jabbering and Mr. Willoughby making doe eyes at HIS governess, Rockdale felt ready to explode. The best way to work off all this irritation was to be balls-deep inside Miss Lockhart. By God, then he'd make sure she forgot anyone else, especially that damn secretary. The man who apparently knew exactly what women wanted to hear.

But not HIS woman, he thought vehemently.

Good God, Rockdale thought incredulously. Did he actually consider the governess his woman? Wasn't she merely a plaything?

He ran a restless hand through his hair. "Mine, either way," he growled. The Earl of Rockdale did not share.

Hadn't he arranged for that damn doctor to ride back and forth from London to Lancashire to treat her mother? And he had purchased that deuced cottage in Lancashire to eventually give to her. She damn well did belong to him, he assured himself. For as long as he wanted her anyway.

Tossing his evening jacket on a chair, the earl threw open the rear doors of his chamber, his thoughts in turmoil. The double doors led to a balcony overlooking the gardens at the back of the house. He stepped outside and paused to gulp in the cool air, gripping the stone railing tightly with both hands.

How on earth had that bastard Miles Barlow inherited Atherton's title? The very thought of it felt like a vicious kick in his stomach. His once closest friend...The one person Rockdale had felt understood him.

Betrayal. The earl's mouth twisted. Never would he forget coming into his wife's bedroom at their London townhouse that afternoon. Not expecting to see her bare ass up in the air as she knelt on the bed. His best friend's cock in her mouth.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was imprinted permanently.

"Damn you, Miles. Damn you to hell."

He turned jerkily and continued down the balcony, thankful his guests were all on the other side of the house. The balcony ran almost full-length along the back of the house, giving all the chambers along the family hall shared access through a rear door in each room.

Rockdale paused before the very last door and tried the knob. Locked of course. He pulled the key from his pocket and used it to enter the room.

Christ, he needed her. His gut felt tied up in knots. Urgently his gaze turned toward the bed, hoping to see her there, if not waiting for him, at least ready for bed.

But the covers weren't even turned down. Dumbfounded, he looked around the chamber in vain. The room was empty, and she was nowhere to be found.

He cursed vilely.

And then he waited. First five minutes, then ten. Surely, she would come to bed soon, he reasoned. His mind worked furiously contemplating where she might be.

Impatient, he stood and paced the room. Could she have returned her old room despite his order to move?

Unable to quell the urge, Rockdale stalked out into the darkened hallways until he reached her former room. He pushed the door open and found the chamber empty and dark.

"Bloody hell."

The image of Eliza in the arms of John Willoughby circled in his mind. He imagined those soft lips smiling up at his secretary as she had in the drawing room. How easy it would be for the younger man to tug that excuse for a proper bodice down and expose her luscious full tits.

You're being ridiculous, he told himself.

John Willoughby had taken his leave after dinner. And he knew his secretary normally stayed in a small house in the village with his father when working at Verity Hall.

Lots of empty bedrooms in this house, his mind taunted him.

"Dammit," he muttered and continued to prowl the halls, unsure exactly where he was headed.

He paused, noticing weak light steaming from the partially-opened nursery door. This struck him as odd. The children and nursery maids surely would have been long abed.

Rockdale entered quietly, crossing the empty classroom to the rooms where the children slept. The tension in his chest eased somewhat when he peered inside and saw Eliza, still in her evening dress, sitting in a rocking chair before the fireplace. She held Anna on her lap, the girl's head cradled against her bosom.

He must have made some sound because Eliza's eyes widened in surprise, and her head turned his way.

"Is she ill?" he asked softly, coming closer.

"Yes," Eliza answered, stroking the girl's hair. "Nothing too serious, I don't believe."

Rockdale puzzled over why she would be here. "Surely the nursemaids are well experienced in dealing with this sort of thing?"

Anna opened her eyes without lifting her head and regarded her father solemnly. "I asked for Miss Lockhart, Papa. Please don't make her leave."

"I'm not leaving, darling," the governess assured her, then glared up at Rockdale as if he had suggested such a thing.

"I'm feeling a little better after I threw up in the basin," Anna said. "But my head hurts."

"Just try to rest, dear," Eliza said gently.

One of the nursery maids rose up from her cot in the corner and seeing the earl, gasped and dove back under the covers.

"Did you come to check on me, Papa?" Anna asked drowsily.

A feeling that might have been guilt tugged at his heart. "Of course, sweetheart," he answered.

Nicholas appeared suddenly in the doorway to the adjoining bedroom, his face pale and eyes wide. The little boy took in the scene, and his face crumpled suddenly.

"She's going to die, isn't she?" He gulped and began to cry. "Anna's dying! That's why you're here, Papa!" Large tears streamed down his cheeks.

"I'm not dying," Anna said crossly. "Stop crying, Nicky, you're hurting my head."

Instinct had Rockdale crossing the room to scoop his son up into his arms. His heart turned over looking down into the small tear-stained face.

"Anna is going to be fine," he told his son. "Her stomach just isn't feeling well tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm quite sure. Let's get you back into bed, shall we?"

He tucked Nicholas back into his bed and sat down on the edge. He opened his mouth to instruct his son to go back to sleep but the boy frowned up at him.

"Shhhh, Papa," he whispered and pointed. "She's singing."

Nonplussed, Rockdale closed his mouth and listened. Miss Lockhart's soft voice carried over from the other room as she sang a lullaby to Anna.

It certainly wasn't the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard, he thought unkindly. Maybe even more than little off-key.

Nicholas smiled sleepily and turned over, his thumb going into his mouth.

The feeling he experienced looking down at his son while listening to the governess sing was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was almost...peaceful. He trailed a hand over his son's silky brown hair.

Quite unexpectedly he felt a sudden disgust for himself. Eliza gave love and tenderness to his children so easily, while he could only focus on satisfying his baser urges. And despite the disgust he felt, he knew he would have her again.

You're a monster to defile her this way, the voice inside his head whispered.

Yes, he was, Rockdale thought bleakly. God help him.

She deserved better than this.

Hearing Nanny Goodson's voice, he stood and reentered the adjoining bedroom. The nanny was dressed in her nightclothes, long gray braid over her shoulder. Her head jerked up, obviously startled to see him appear.

"My lord." She acknowledged him with a nod and turned her attention back to Eliza. "I made the lass some weak tea, but the poor lamb has tuckered out. Let's get her into bed."

"Allow me," Rockdale said, coming over and lifting the weight of his sleeping daughter off the governess' lap and placing the girl into bed.

The nanny gently tucked the covers around Anna. "Thank you, Miss Lockhart, for coming when I sent for you." She patted Eliza on the shoulder. "Lady Anna would not settle until you came."

"Of course, I will come anytime," Eliza said. She bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on the sleeping girl's brow.

"Ah," Rockdale said, inexplicably feeling the urge to explain his own presence. "I happened to see a light on in the nursery and investigated. Since all seems well in hand, I will bid you ladies good night."

Nanny Goodson's brow was furrowed but she nodded. "Good night, my lord."

Eliza's face was difficult to read in the low lighting. "Good night, my lord. Thank you for your assistance with the children."

He bowed and left, his teeth gritted. He wanted to pick Eliza up and bodily carry her with him but could hardly do so in front of the nanny.

Conflicted, he forced himself to walk away.

***

After a last check on both sleeping children, Eliza finally went to seek out her own bed. She smothered a huge yawn and rubbed her eyes. The tightly-laced stays were digging into her skin, and she urgently wished to get out of her uncomfortable gown.

Force of habit almost had her going to her former chamber. She couldn't imagine what the earl had been thinking to put her in a room on the family hall. Shaking her head in bemusement, she continued on to her new room, walked inside and froze.

Rockdale sat sprawled upon her big bed, dressed in his black banyan and leaning back against the headboard. His eyes were fixed upon her, watchful and steady.

He looked as tired as she felt, Eliza decided with a sigh.

"I don't what to argue with you," she said, closing the door. "And I do not wish to endure another lesson," she added defiantly.

His mouth twisted at this, but the earl said nothing and rose from the bed.

"I mean it," she said, knowing that it really mattered naught what she said.

"Turn around."

His tone of his voice was rough and brooked no argument. She complied helplessly as he began to first unlace then unpin her gown.

"How the hell did you get into this thing on your own?" he growled, peeling the bodice of the gown off her and letting the skirt puddle on the floor.

"Mary - one of the nursemaids - helped me with the gown," she answered with a tired sigh.

He turned her back around and jerked at the lacing of her stays, cursing when the ties knotted. She moaned a little as the corset finally loosened and came off.

He rubbed at the red marks on her skin. "Good lord, woman. And you tell me you don't need new garments?"

She sniffed and turned her face away, feeling strangely like she was about to cry.

He dropped to one knee, tugging her drawers down and off and removing her slippers and stockings. Standing again, he pulled the pins out of her hair and the heavy mass tumbled around her back and shoulders.

"I can't believe you just threw my hairpins on the floor," she protested.

He shrugged and unbelted his banyan, letting it join the pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

"I really should put away my gown," she fretted.

"Get in the bed."

It was pointless to do anything but listen. Eliza huffed and climbed inside the covers, sinking into the luxuriously soft mattress.

Rockdale extinguished the light and slid in behind her, spooning up against her back.

She felt the press of his hard penis against her bottom and shifted her hips uneasily.

"Be still," his voice rumbled in her ear. His hand briefly palmed her breast before settling around her waist.

His warmth spread over her, enveloping her body in a drowsy peacefulness. She realized he wasn't going to demand more from her.

"William," she murmured sleepily.

"Just go to sleep, Eliza."

She could have sworn she felt the brush of his lips over her hair before she drifted off.

***

Eliza awakened some time later, the weak light of dawn barely reducing the darkness. The fire had gone out, she noted drowsily, but she was warm and cozy under the covers, still intertwined against Rockdale.

She stretched a little, opening her eyes and found herself now facing the earl.

Feeling a bit shy and uncertain, she blinked, disconcerted to find him seemingly wide awake and staring at her intently.

"About bloody time," he muttered and immediately pushed her onto her back.

Eliza shoved unruly hair out of her face as Rockdale swiftly covered her body with his own, pressing her down into the mattress, his knee pushing between her legs. Still half-asleep, she squeaked when her thighs were unceremoniously shoved wide.

His shadowed face held an almost cruel expression looming over her, his fist reaching down to grasp the thickly-rigid cock jutting from his groin.

Her body tensed when he pressed the swollen head against the soft folds he had exposed.

"Rockdale," she panted. "Wait..."

He hooked his hands under her knees and shoved them upward toward her chest. She squirmed ineffectually and soon realized this position gave him complete control.

Her hips arched up off the bed when his cock nudged inside her. She whimpered and pushed against his chest. Rockdale's staff was large, and she was tight; her body hadn't readied for him.

He glared down at her, face fierce and determined. "Relax and let me inside you," he snarled.

"Just give me a moment to—"

"No, you'll take me now."

The broad head slid inside, and she moaned, head tossing on her pillow. He worked his cock back out and jabbed harder, the shaft feeling like a rock-hard spike rudely thrusting inside her sleep-softened body.

"Ouch, damn you," she hissed.

His breath hissed out between his bared teeth when his cock finally sank full-length inside of her.

"Now, that's better," he crooned, a little of the ferociousness seeming to ease from him. He made no attempt to thrust or withdraw, his cock pulsing deep within her, completely filling and stretching her inner sheath.

His hands dove into her hair, anchoring her head while he captured her mouth, kissing her deeply and open-mouthed.

"Yes," he murmured at last against her lips. His hips began to grind against her mons in small thrusts, and she gasped as his cock managed to delve even deeper.

Eliza writhed under his heavy weight, feeling completely overwhelmed by his single-minded early morning invasion.

He released his grip on her knees. "Wrap your legs around me," he rasped.

Biting her lip, she complied. Her hands were still flat against his chest, pushing at him, as if she could possibly budge the large, determined man atop her. He grabbed a wrist in each of his own hands and drew them high above her head.

Expression resolute in the dim light, he held her gaze captive while he began to finally to withdraw his cock and work it back inside her. Each thrust was harder, more emphatic; his hips pistoned in long, firm strokes.

The suave lord from dinner last night had disappeared. There was something almost animalistic about the way he was poised above her, mounting her, claiming her. His eyes and body seemed to be communicating a wordless message that said, I am your master and there's nothing you can do to stop me from taking you."

***

The big sturdy bed shook under the force of his thrusts. Rockdale knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was frightening her or even hurting her. But stopping was out of the question. His heart galloped in his chest as he continued to rhythmically drive his cock into her tight quim.

He had lain awake for hours, wanting to let her rest - watching her while she slept. He should have been content to hold her close, enjoy the softness of her body without losing his mind.

She had been lovely sleeping, so peaceful. But the entire time, he had been consumed with a growing desperation to be inside her. He didn't understand it, couldn't explain it, even to himself.

He hadn't even given a thought to her pleasure. Hadn't taken time to prepare her for his rough penetration. It wasn't like him to be this out of control, he thought wildly.

His orgasm rushed over him in a powerful surge. He gasped for breath, intense pleasure radiating from his loins, and he groaned long and deep as his balls emptied, pumping his seed inside her womb. He released her hands but felt oddly reluctant to pull his cock from the warmth of her supple body.

His mouth worked, thoughts tumbling madly through his brain. Her wide blue eyes stared up at him, almost dazed, seeming to wait for him to explain himself. He struggled with the want to tell her a thousand things - how beautiful she was sleeping, how much he desired her, and how sparing with her had given some spark back into his dull, lifeless existence.

But when he opened his mouth what came out instead was, "I will not tolerate you flirting with another man in my house. If you wish to pursue my secretary, you will wait until I am finished with you. If I see his hands on you again, I will toss you and your family out on your arses."

His words were brutish and hurtful, and he wished them back as soon as they spouted from his stupid mouth.

She recoiled what little she could, still pressed down and spread beneath him, and his cock, not at all soft as it should be, still inside her.

"He escorted me into dinner," she said, scowling. "I hardly think that is flirting." She shoved at him. "Get off me, you miserable lout."

"Perhaps you'll be the true love he's longing to find," he mocked, pinning her arms down by her head.

"You're jealous!" she shot back, struggling against him. "Don't you realize you've ruined me for any decent man? Let me go!"

"I don't think you're in any position to demand anything," he said silkily, thrusting himself more firmly inside her.

She went suddenly limp, surprising him.

"Go ahead, then," she said. "Rape me again quickly so that I may get up and go see to your children."

Shame, guilt, and anger wedged in his chest like a giant ball. He wanted to shout at her that it hadn't been rape. At least...not this time. He had just... needed her so badly. And yes, damn it all, he had been jealous of his bloody secretary.

But he couldn't admit it. Forcibly he tamped all the emotion down somewhere deep inside him and climbed off her.

"He seems quite taken with you," Rockdale continued as if she hadn't spoken, padding nude across the room to the basin and pitcher of water. "I'm sure he wouldn't let the matter of your missing maidenhead deter him from marriage." He paused and snorted, pouring water into the basin. "Seems like one of you ought to know what the hell you're doing when he mounts you."

The earl splashed some water on his face and dried it with a towel. "Play your cards right, love, and I figure he'll agree to anything in order to see those fat tits of yours naked," he finished with a leer in her direction.

She struggled out of the covers and jumped to her feet. "Shut your horrible mouth! Every time I think that there could possibly be something good and decent in you, you ruin it!"

"Good and decent in me?" His laugh was long and mocking. "You're not thinking I'll turn into the man of your dreams, are you? Perhaps I'll see the error of my ways and fall in love with you?" He clutched at his chest dramatically.