One Night of Surrender: The Brothers Mortmain, Book 1 by Evie North Page B
Authors: Evie North
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“My father offered to send me a valet,” he said, with a poignant smile, “but I refused. Newgate doesn’t require one to dress for dinner.”
Her laugh was almost a sob.
With a groan he bent his head to kiss her, feeding off her lips and mouth, his tongue desperately mating with hers. Katherine wouldn’t have imagined it possible, but suddenly desire reared up inside her, as hot and as desperate as ever. He pulled her body to him, his own warm against her naked, chilled flesh, and in two steps had her pressed against the tapestry on the wall. Fumbling at his recently buttoned trousers he freed himself.
She felt the embroidered cloth against her back, abrading her skin as he lifted her up, her thighs wrapped around his waist. Her breasts ached from the rub of his waistcoat, her nipples peeking from the friction, and he squeezed her bottom in his big hands as he entered her, sliding deep inside her once more. Her sheath felt raw but her body didn’t seem to care. She was wild for him, already coming as he gave several rough, desperate thrusts up into her. And when he buried his face in her breasts, both of them shuddering from the experience, she held him closer.
Gervais had never come like that before. He wondered if he could survive it. He stood, panting, holding her still impaled upon him, feeling light-headed from lack of sleep. He made a decision then that he would think only of Katherine’s face when he stood before the crowd. As they cheered and jeered he would picture her beautiful smile and the way she arched her throat and cried out when he came deep inside her.
He could bear it then, he thought. He could bear anything.
A knock came on the door again.
Katherine clung closer, wrapping her arms tight about him, but he gently pulled them away and let her slide down to her feet. For a moment they stood pressed together, both warm and very much alive, and then he stepped away and began to neaten himself.
“Do I look like a gentleman highwayman?” he said, spreading his arms for her inspection.
Katherine nodded, and then reached to smooth back a lock of his damp hair. She might have clung to him again but he moved backwards, away from her, still watching her. And then he took another step and another. He was moving further away and she stood and let him.
“ Adieu ,” he whispered, his dark eyes delving into hers, and then he turned and strode quickly to the door.
When it opened Katherine saw there were three gentlemen waiting, along with Turnkey Martin and two guards. On wobbly legs she reached the safety of the bed curtains, but the men didn’t come into the room. The three gentlemen were embracing Gervais, the elder one with grey hair and a stern lined face. Of the younger two, one was fair and taller than Gervais, and he wore a black blindfold about his eyes, and the other was dark, though not so dark as Gervais, and similar in height. His father, the Earl of Mortmain, and his brothers, come to say their farewells.
Their grief was palpable. Covering her mouth with her hands to muffle her sobs, Katherine turned away. A moment later she heard the door close and then steps moving away down the stone corridors.
He was gone.
She was alone.
The night was at an end.
Chapter Nine
The cock had crowed some time ago and Katherine’s sobs had worn her out so that she slept. Afterwards she had bathed herself in the now-tepid water, then dressed in the feminine attire she’d found in a neat pile upon the chest by the door. It was clean and well-made and there were slippers for her feet and a bonnet for her hair. She looked like a lady.
Gervais had thought of everything for her new beginning.
She felt so numb that even the raw discomfort from their couplings was welcome, if only to remind her she was alive. Although it also reminded her that he was dead. Dropped before a waiting crowd outside the smoke-blackened walls. But she didn’t want to think of that. She preferred to remember him
“My father offered to send me a valet,” he said, with a poignant smile, “but I refused. Newgate doesn’t require one to dress for dinner.”
Her laugh was almost a sob.
With a groan he bent his head to kiss her, feeding off her lips and mouth, his tongue desperately mating with hers. Katherine wouldn’t have imagined it possible, but suddenly desire reared up inside her, as hot and as desperate as ever. He pulled her body to him, his own warm against her naked, chilled flesh, and in two steps had her pressed against the tapestry on the wall. Fumbling at his recently buttoned trousers he freed himself.
She felt the embroidered cloth against her back, abrading her skin as he lifted her up, her thighs wrapped around his waist. Her breasts ached from the rub of his waistcoat, her nipples peeking from the friction, and he squeezed her bottom in his big hands as he entered her, sliding deep inside her once more. Her sheath felt raw but her body didn’t seem to care. She was wild for him, already coming as he gave several rough, desperate thrusts up into her. And when he buried his face in her breasts, both of them shuddering from the experience, she held him closer.
Gervais had never come like that before. He wondered if he could survive it. He stood, panting, holding her still impaled upon him, feeling light-headed from lack of sleep. He made a decision then that he would think only of Katherine’s face when he stood before the crowd. As they cheered and jeered he would picture her beautiful smile and the way she arched her throat and cried out when he came deep inside her.
He could bear it then, he thought. He could bear anything.
A knock came on the door again.
Katherine clung closer, wrapping her arms tight about him, but he gently pulled them away and let her slide down to her feet. For a moment they stood pressed together, both warm and very much alive, and then he stepped away and began to neaten himself.
“Do I look like a gentleman highwayman?” he said, spreading his arms for her inspection.
Katherine nodded, and then reached to smooth back a lock of his damp hair. She might have clung to him again but he moved backwards, away from her, still watching her. And then he took another step and another. He was moving further away and she stood and let him.
“ Adieu ,” he whispered, his dark eyes delving into hers, and then he turned and strode quickly to the door.
When it opened Katherine saw there were three gentlemen waiting, along with Turnkey Martin and two guards. On wobbly legs she reached the safety of the bed curtains, but the men didn’t come into the room. The three gentlemen were embracing Gervais, the elder one with grey hair and a stern lined face. Of the younger two, one was fair and taller than Gervais, and he wore a black blindfold about his eyes, and the other was dark, though not so dark as Gervais, and similar in height. His father, the Earl of Mortmain, and his brothers, come to say their farewells.
Their grief was palpable. Covering her mouth with her hands to muffle her sobs, Katherine turned away. A moment later she heard the door close and then steps moving away down the stone corridors.
He was gone.
She was alone.
The night was at an end.
Chapter Nine
The cock had crowed some time ago and Katherine’s sobs had worn her out so that she slept. Afterwards she had bathed herself in the now-tepid water, then dressed in the feminine attire she’d found in a neat pile upon the chest by the door. It was clean and well-made and there were slippers for her feet and a bonnet for her hair. She looked like a lady.
Gervais had thought of everything for her new beginning.
She felt so numb that even the raw discomfort from their couplings was welcome, if only to remind her she was alive. Although it also reminded her that he was dead. Dropped before a waiting crowd outside the smoke-blackened walls. But she didn’t want to think of that. She preferred to remember him
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