The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance by Alison Shaw Read Free Book Online Page A

And she meant
it with all her heart.
    To her enormous
relief he withdrew and watched her as she retrieved her book and
walked away. She could feel his eyes on her as she continued down
the shadowy corridor, her heart beating wildly in her chest, the
centre of her so slick and wet her legs were shaking.
    Outside, it was
a refreshingly cool night and the moon rose high in the clear sky,
bathing the courtyard with a cool light. She stood for a while,
taking in big lungfuls of head clearing air.
    “Good evening
Charlotte Kemp,” a smooth voice said, making her jump.
    Eddie Johnson
was leaning against the stable wall, a glowing cheroot held between
his fingers, his white shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing a
glimpse of a muscular chest. Taking him in, Charlotte realised that
she was still unbearably aroused. His deep voice had shot straight
to her needy quim.
    He grinned, a
slow lazy grin not unlike his master’s. And like his master, his
cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen. They looked bruised
as if he had been kissing, and Charlotte felt a sudden desperate
need to have them on her.
    She found
herself walking towards him as if in a trance, and he dropped the
cheroot on the ground. She reached him and without saying a word he
took hold of her waist, pulled her against him and pressed that
tempting mouth against hers. His hand went to her breast as his
tongue snaked between her lips. Heat radiated from him and he smelt
like … sex, and she was suddenly released from all her worries. The
relief came upon her with a surge that travelled through her entire
body and she moulded herself against him, draped her arms around
his neck and kissed him with a wanton fervour. They were equals,
governess and valet, and she needed this so very much.
    “My God,” he
groaned into her hair, his hands on her bottom, pulling her against
his hardness. “You’re begging for a fuck, aren’t you?”
    If she had been
less aroused she might have slapped him, but his rough words just
drove her onwards, and she tugged at the remaining buttons of his
shirt and pressed her lips against the slick skin of his bare
chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent.
    His hand
grasped hold of her hair and he pulled her head back. “In the
stables,” he growled and before she even gave her consent she found
herself dragged into darkness and pressed forward against a cool
wall, her cheek scraping the rough stone.
    His breath was
hot against her neck. “My, my, Charlotte Kemp,” he murmured.
“You’re a surprise and a half.”
    “Don’t talk,”
she said impatiently. She had no interest in talking. She did not
want to get to know this man, she just needed him to relieve the
burning need inside her.
    He obeyed her
order and instead lifted her skirts and thrust his hand between her
legs, his fingers sliding into her clenching sheath. He groaned a
single word into her ear, “Wet,” and then fumbling with his
breeches she felt the smooth blunt head of his cock rub against
her.
    Oh the joy! She
loved this moment. The moment when a man had her helpless in his
grasp, his cock hard and ready to penetrate, to fill her emptiness
and drive her into ecstasy.
    Johnson did not
disappoint. He entered her easily, sliding in all the way, his
balls banging against her. He was long and thick and she spread her
legs wider and arched her back, making him groan and place a large
hand on the back of her head, so he could pull out slowly and then
slide back in again with an even more erotic groan. Her face was
now pressed hard against the stone but she didn’t care because
Johnson was deepening his slow thrusts and she felt herself on the
edge of exploding already.
    He was very
good at this she managed to register just before he changed the
angle slightly and started slamming into her with a still
controlled rhythm, his hands now gripping her hips, her cries
filling the barn. His manly grunts of pleasure had her climbing
towards something so thrilling she was almost