Read Online Twilight with the Infamous Earl by Alexandra Hawkins - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexandra Hawkins
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him. Where was the charm he was known for? He had yet to ask a single question about her hatred for Nox. Frost took a deep breath. “What is the difference?”
“Only a small one,” she said too sweetly. “Your pranks require more sophistication than theirs. Although I believe—mm—ph—”
He used his mouth to silence her. It was the smartest course, since the woman had the ability to castrate a man with her tongue. There were other, more tantalizing and pleasurable uses for the organ.
At first, Emily held her ground. She was as rigid as a board in his arms, and her mouth was as yielding as a threatened clam. Frost had stolen his first taste of her, and he regretted his rough handling. Almost. Her rambling explanation about her sister had revealed that the lady had not been kissed.
He was the first man to experience the passion she kept hidden.
His lips softened against hers and she drew in a ragged breath. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent. She smelled faintly of orange blossoms. He kissed her lightly, an unspoken apology for his anger. Emily’s response was as generous as her heart. Her lips, unschooled in the art of kissing, parted and beckoned for him to take more.
It was an invitation he could not refuse.
Slowly, he worshiped her mouth. He caressed the plump padding of her lower lip with his lips, using the tip of his tongue as a teasing whip to moisten his path.
When he lifted his head, he stared down into the fathomless depths of her hazel eyes. The green and gold rings glowed with the rising passion she likely did not recognize within her. Unfortunately, Frost was very aware of his body. He was aroused and feeling reckless. A part of him longed to drag her back into the small parlor and lock the door. The Fiddicks’ sofa would suffice as he kissed Emily in other delectable areas of her body.
It was the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he released her and stepped back.
“Lord Chillingsworth.” Emily stared at him with bemused wonder in her gaze as if she had never truly seen him.
“We have moved beyond formality,” he said, pleased that he had figured out a way to sweeten her disposition. “My friends call me—”
“Frost!”
Emily stared at him, her distress apparent. Almost being caught in a torrid embrace with a Lord of Vice had turned her ardor to ash, and she was probably vexed with him again. Annoyance flashed across his expression as he noticed his sister and Dare were to blame for this intrusion. How the devil had they found him? He had not told Regan that he would be attending the ball this evening.
“Regan and Dare, this is unexpected,” he said, genially, while his gaze silently ordered them to go away .
“Lady Fiddick told us you were here,” his sister said, stepping away from her husband to kiss Frost on the cheek. “I told Dare that I would not believe it until I saw you myself.”
Dare stood behind his wife with his arms crossed. His attention shifted from Frost to Emily, and there was a question in his gaze. How much had the couple seen? Enough, he assumed.
The bravado Emily had displayed during their argument had left her. She stood quietly beside him, most likely wishing she had escaped before they had drawn spectators.
There was nothing he could do to ease her embarrassment. It was best to get through the introductions. Maybe she wouldn’t look so miserable once she learned that they had been interrupted by several members of his family.
“Regan and Dare, I would like to introduce you to—”
His sister brought her hands to her lips. “Emily … Emily Cavell. My goodness, is that truly you?”
Frost’s eyebrows rose. “You are acquainted with Emily?”
The lady in question frowned at him for using her given name, but she was smiling when she walked toward his sister. “Lady Regan.” She curtsied.
“Oh, I will have none of that from you,” Regan said, embracing the startled woman.
Puzzled, Emily glanced at him and then his
“Only a small one,” she said too sweetly. “Your pranks require more sophistication than theirs. Although I believe—mm—ph—”
He used his mouth to silence her. It was the smartest course, since the woman had the ability to castrate a man with her tongue. There were other, more tantalizing and pleasurable uses for the organ.
At first, Emily held her ground. She was as rigid as a board in his arms, and her mouth was as yielding as a threatened clam. Frost had stolen his first taste of her, and he regretted his rough handling. Almost. Her rambling explanation about her sister had revealed that the lady had not been kissed.
He was the first man to experience the passion she kept hidden.
His lips softened against hers and she drew in a ragged breath. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent. She smelled faintly of orange blossoms. He kissed her lightly, an unspoken apology for his anger. Emily’s response was as generous as her heart. Her lips, unschooled in the art of kissing, parted and beckoned for him to take more.
It was an invitation he could not refuse.
Slowly, he worshiped her mouth. He caressed the plump padding of her lower lip with his lips, using the tip of his tongue as a teasing whip to moisten his path.
When he lifted his head, he stared down into the fathomless depths of her hazel eyes. The green and gold rings glowed with the rising passion she likely did not recognize within her. Unfortunately, Frost was very aware of his body. He was aroused and feeling reckless. A part of him longed to drag her back into the small parlor and lock the door. The Fiddicks’ sofa would suffice as he kissed Emily in other delectable areas of her body.
It was the most difficult thing he had ever done, but he released her and stepped back.
“Lord Chillingsworth.” Emily stared at him with bemused wonder in her gaze as if she had never truly seen him.
“We have moved beyond formality,” he said, pleased that he had figured out a way to sweeten her disposition. “My friends call me—”
“Frost!”
Emily stared at him, her distress apparent. Almost being caught in a torrid embrace with a Lord of Vice had turned her ardor to ash, and she was probably vexed with him again. Annoyance flashed across his expression as he noticed his sister and Dare were to blame for this intrusion. How the devil had they found him? He had not told Regan that he would be attending the ball this evening.
“Regan and Dare, this is unexpected,” he said, genially, while his gaze silently ordered them to go away .
“Lady Fiddick told us you were here,” his sister said, stepping away from her husband to kiss Frost on the cheek. “I told Dare that I would not believe it until I saw you myself.”
Dare stood behind his wife with his arms crossed. His attention shifted from Frost to Emily, and there was a question in his gaze. How much had the couple seen? Enough, he assumed.
The bravado Emily had displayed during their argument had left her. She stood quietly beside him, most likely wishing she had escaped before they had drawn spectators.
There was nothing he could do to ease her embarrassment. It was best to get through the introductions. Maybe she wouldn’t look so miserable once she learned that they had been interrupted by several members of his family.
“Regan and Dare, I would like to introduce you to—”
His sister brought her hands to her lips. “Emily … Emily Cavell. My goodness, is that truly you?”
Frost’s eyebrows rose. “You are acquainted with Emily?”
The lady in question frowned at him for using her given name, but she was smiling when she walked toward his sister. “Lady Regan.” She curtsied.
“Oh, I will have none of that from you,” Regan said, embracing the startled woman.
Puzzled, Emily glanced at him and then his
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