Free The Governess Was Wicked by Julia Kelly

of liquor in hand.
    No one needed to know that the governess was being very, very wicked.
    She watched as Edward crossed the little gap between them and the door and closed it with a soft click. When he turned to face her, her eyes raked over him. His desire for her was very evident, thanks to the hard ridge that ran along the line of his trousers. With those rich hazel eyes and the sweep of dark hair slightly tousled from her grasping fingers, he took her breath away.
    “The door’s shut,” he said without moving. He inclined his head as though inviting her to continue telling him what she wanted him to do. There were so many things, she could hardly count.
    “Take your jacket off, Edward.”
    A grin spread over his face. “I thought you might want that to come off with the way you were tugging at it.”
    Her cheeks flushed, but she kept her chin up. “It’s in the way.”
    He pulled his arms out of the sleeves and dropped the garment to the floor. “I couldn’t agree more.”
    The man she’d dreamed about for years looked at her expectantly. “Now your waistcoat.”
    His fingers moved to the remaining buttons. “It’s already half undone. It seems a shame to leave it on.”
    The waistcoat hit the floor, and she was presented with an expanse of white linen shirt. Taking a step toward him, she began slowly to undo the knot of his neckcloth.
    “I’ve thought about doing this quite a few times,” she said quietly, “but I never really believed I’d get the chance.”
    “What else have you thought of doing to me?” he asked, his voice showing the strain it took to let her take the lead.
    She blushed. “Nothing that a lady should think about a gentleman who is not her husband.”
    A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Tell me.”
    She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “I thought I was the one giving the orders.”
    He huffed out a breath. “You’re doing it very well. I’m in awe of governesses now.”
    She pulled his neckcloth free and slipped her hand into the gap in the top of his shirt. His skin burned hot, and she wanted very much to lick a path from his neck to the tip of his earlobe.
    “I’ve thought about you late at night, Edward.”
    He shuddered at her words. She wanted to elicit that reaction again, so she drew that line with her tongue. He sagged forward just a fraction, and she could feel the weight of his powerful body lean on her just a bit. Pressing a kiss to his heated skin, she pulled back just enough to say, “I’ve thought about you while I’ve touched myself in a way a lady isn’t supposed to. Do you think that very wrong?”
    “No.” He gasped out a breath. “I think it very right. And I think you should tell me about it with as much detail as you like. Purely for scientific reasons, of course.”
    She laughed, the warm glow of pleasure spreading through her. “Of course. Now take off your shirt.”
    He took a half step back, and for a moment she thought she had gone too far. But then he reached up, fisted the material, and whipped the linen over his head. Her knees went a little weak at the sight of him. A dusting of hair colored his chest, and her fingers itched to smooth over his flat stomach. She grabbed for him, but he stepped back again.
    “That is all I’m taking off, Elizabeth,” he warned. Her spirits sank, but then he added, “There are ways of ensuring that you don’t end up with child, but I don’t have the right things with me tonight. However, there are other things we can do.”
    She’d heard of those other things when the men under her father’s command hadn’t known she was spying on them. As a girl, she would climb up into the stables or sneak behind the mess hall curtains and listen to them trade stories of what they’d done to the ladies of their acquaintance. It was boastful, bold, and probably not entirely true, but it was instructive.
    “You’ll teach me these other things I can do to bring you pleasure?” she asked as he wrapped his