Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Simon used one hand to play around her bodice, teasing the sensitive skin. She arched into him. She gasped against his mouth, a quick intake of air, as he moved his hands down to cup her bottom and then picked her up and turned to sit her on the edge of his desk. But she didn't pull away.

Simon pressed her knees apart so he could settle his body there. She gave no resistance, opening willingly to him as he pulled her to the edge of the desk so that he could seat himself as closely as possible to her heat.

Smelling her desire, Simon grew harder than he'd ever thought imaginable. His lips trailed down the side of her throat, weaving a gentle path across her tender flesh.

Gentle. Be gentle, Simon.

"Gentle?" she whispered. Had he spoken aloud? "I don't want gentle. I want you," she breathed.

But she had no idea what she was asking. She wasn't aware of what firm control it took for him to stay sane. She didn't have any idea how close he was to devouring her like a sweetmeat before dinner. It took every bit of his humanity to remain in the moment.

No matter, he wasn't ready to stop. He would push his control a little farther. And test hers at the same time. As his lips moved across her flesh, he pressed her back until her arms were forced to leave him to hold her weight up. Her new position brought her breasts forward, pressed against the fabric of her gown, calling to him.

Simon cupped one breast in his hand, testing the

weight of it. She inhaled sharply, her head falling back so that her throat was exposed, her eyes closed in sublime pleasure.

His thumb grazed her nipple as his other hand rose to cup her other breast. Lily's eyes closed tightly as she absorbed the sensation and reveled in it.

She broke his trance when she suddenly sat forward, taking his hands in hers and removing them from her body. Her chest heaved, her breath coming in great gulps.

"No," he ground out.

"Do you hear that?" she asked, looking toward the door.

Her heartbeat? Yes, he heard it. It was nothing to be ashamed of. "Quite normal," he said softly.

"Simon, would you

listen

?" she said more loudly.

That was when he heard the angry stomp of footsteps in the hallway. Then he heard Billings tell whomever it was, gently but forcefully, that the duke was unavailable.

But Lily was already pushing him away. She dared to straighten her clothing? When he wanted nothing more than to tear it off?

A voice called from the hallway, "Aunt Lily, are you here?"

The Earl of Maberley had finally arrived.

Lily flew from Simon's study, nearly barreling right into an overgrown adolescent boy. Simon managed to keep his mouth from falling open. Looking at Oliver York was like staring into the past. The young earl was definitely his father's son. He had Daniel's chestnut hair and dark chocolate eyes and the build of a man

instead of a boy.

Oliver barely spared him a glance, holding tightly to his aunt. "Why did you leave like that? I thought you were only going to be gone a day."

Lily kissed his cheek and backed away from the lad. "My plans changed a bit, Oliver."

"Well, why did you bring me

here

in such a rush?" he asked, irritation evident in his voice. "The driver barely stopped to change horses. I'm sore and—"

Simon stepped forward. "I brought you here, not your aunt." This was the child Lily would fight him for, tooth and nail? This young man lacked the innocent boyishness of youth. Simon couldn't imagine Lily rocking him to sleep or singing him lullabies. So, why was she so willing to give up her chances for a good match to spend time caring for this recalcitrant youth?

He knew it must be difficult for the boy to keep his temper, especially with the changes that were taking place in his body, but Simon wasn't about to let him use a disrespectful tone of voice with Lily.

Oliver's brown eyes flashed to him, and his brow furrowed angrily. "So

you're

him?"

Lily stepped forward. "Oliver, please," she said softly. "This is your cousin, His Grace, the Duke of Blackmoor. Do be on your best behavior."

The boy's scowl darkened. Simon mirrored his look, not understanding why the boy behaved with such impertinence. Full moon approaching or not, the whelp had no excuse for his conduct. He'd need to have a conversation with Oliver sooner rather than later, but he couldn't do so with Lily hovering. For a moment he wished Prisca Hawthorne hadn't left. At the very least, she could have distracted Lily.

"Lily love, will you give me a moment with the earl?"

"Why?" She blinked innocently at him, and he felt his desire for her mount.

"I would like to have a word with my ward. We'll find you. Go make certain Will isn't still smarting from his encounter with Prisca, will you?"

She nodded reluctantly and then started down the corridor. Simon pulled his eyes away from her disappearing form and gestured to his study. "After you, Maberley."

The boy stepped inside but stopped, looking around the room and frowning. "What happened in here?"

Simon winced. If he hadn't been so distracted by Lily's delectable form, he would never have brought Oliver into his study. Chairs were toppled over. His desk was wiped clean. Ledgers and several pieces of foolscap littered the floor. "I, uh, have a bit of a temper at times. It would be best for you not to bring it out in me." He shot the youth a subtle warning before he righted one of the chairs and pointed to it. "Sit."

As Oliver took his seat, Simon walked around his mahogany desk and dropped into his own chair. "Your aunt is worried about you."

"Why did you call her 'love'?" The child had the nerve to growl at him.

The pup didn't know who he was dealing with. "I didn't bring you to Hampshire for you to ask me questions, but the other way around, my boy."

Oliver shook his head. "I'm

not

your boy. Aunt Lily begged you for years to visit me. A little late for you

to be interested now."

Simon had never had a twelve-year-old chastise him before. Obviously, the lad was in serious need of a strong male in his life. He leaned forward in his seat, leveling the young earl with a serious look. "You're still a boy, Oliver. It's not too late for anything. In fact, it's the perfect time. Now tell me what's been going on with you."

"Nothing. Certainly nothing that would warrant a summons from you," he grumbled.

Simon tried a different approach. There had to be some way to get a pleasant response from the young earl. "Did you know your father lived here for a while as a boy?"

Oliver shrugged. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

Simon rubbed his jaw, amazed Lily wanted to keep the brat. He hoped the boy's transformation was to blame and that he didn't act like an unruly scamp for Lily on a regular basis. For the time being, Simon was giving Oliver the benefit of the doubt, but his patience was quickly fading away. "Let me explain something to you, Oliver. I understand you are experiencing some

changes

. You don't feel the same. You don't feel like you're in control of yourself, not your thoughts nor your body. You feel different on many levels, and that has to be frightening."

For the first time in their conversation, Oliver looked vulnerable, like a child.

Simon breathed a sigh of relief. "What you're experiencing is

normal.

Well, normal for us. Me, my brothers, your father, you, and handful of others

out there."

Oliver frowned but didn't say a word.

"There are ways you can control these feelings, these urges you don't understand. I brought you here to help you, to train you."

"Train me?"

Simon nodded. "You can live a normal life, for the most part. A few days out of the month will be completely out of your control, but I can help you learn how to live with the rest of them."