Free The Governess Club: Claire by Ellie Macdonald Page B

insinuate—”
    “She didn’t have to.” Jacob continued to advance on her. “I saw it with my own two eyes. The way they look at you. The way they want to touch you. And it’s all because of what you do.”
    Claire felt the back of her legs hit one of the stone benches. “What do I do?”
    Jacob threaded his hand into her hair, grasping her head firmly. “You smile at them. You talk with them. You laugh with them. You dance with them. You make them feel like they are the most important man in the room. All this you have been doing tonight. But not to me.”
    Claire stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you jealous?” she asked in a whisper.
    His eyes narrowed. “I dislike you dancing with other men,” he muttered before crushing his lips to hers.
    This was not like the other kisses they had shared. There was no teasing, no gentleness, no seduction. This kiss was pure domination. His lips pried hers open and his tongue invaded her mouth. Claire couldn’t catch her breath from the force of his attentions. She tried to twist her head to rectify her lack of oxygen, but it only resulted in his tightening the arm around her waist and the hand in her hair.
    Claire did the only thing she could think of, the thing her body began to urge her to do. This was Jacob after all, the man she had come to respect and care about. She knew him, knew that this behavior was out of character for him. She had no qualms doing what needed to be done.
    Claire began to kiss him back, moving his lips against his, trying to match his movements. Despite his grip, Claire managed to press her hands against his chest. She could feel his heart beating hard through the layers of his clothing. Was it from anger or passion?
    A small moan escaped him, and Claire slid her arms up to his shoulders and around his neck, pressing her body against his. Jacob’s kiss began to gentle, reducing the painful pressure on her mouth and eliciting small tendrils of pleasure in her lips that swirled down her throat.
    “Claire,” he murmured.
    “Jacob,” she sighed as he moved away from her lips and began to trail kisses along her cheek and down her throat. She tilted her head to give him more access. His hands trailed along her back before settling on the cheeks of her bottom, cupping them and pulling her hips into his pelvis. There was no mistaking his reaction to her.
    Claire’s throat went dry. Thomas, her former betrothed, had taken some liberties, but nothing like this. Her body was discovering sensations it had never known existed before this moment.
    And then his hand moved upward to cup her breast. Her eyes flew open and slid half shut again. “Jacob,” she croaked.
    “Claire.” She felt his voice against her skin.
    With a final nibble where her neck met her collarbone, Jacob captured her mouth again, inhaling her gasps. Lord, but he was quickly becoming addicted to her.
    He guided her down to sit on the stone bench, following her down to kneel on the ground in front of her. He nudged her legs opened with his hips and moved in closer. With a growl, he tugged her skirt up enough to settle in completely in the cradle of her thighs. Even this close felt like heaven.
    But a dark church garden was not the place. With strength of will he hadn’t known he possessed, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers.
    “Don’t do that again.”
    “What?” He could see the glaze lingering in her eyes.
    “Not dance with me.”
    Claire cupped his cheeks, running her thumbs over his cheekbones. She could feel the small hairs of a new beard tickle her palms. It was a new experience she wouldn’t mind having again and again. Just like his kisses. Just like being with him.
    Oh heavens, she had done gone and fallen in love with him, to borrow Lucy’s phrase.
    She smiled at him. “Was that your way of asking me to dance, Mr. Knightly?”
    “Just don’t do it again. You are mine.”
    Claire leaned into him and kissed him again. This time it was her