An Outside Chance (Chances #3)

Chapter Thirteen

For a moment, Dodo merely stared. Hungry for me? What on earth does that mean?

It was embarrassing, when she finally realized what the man meant, that it had taken her so long to understand.

“Oh!” Dodo said, hands rushing to her mouth as her cheeks burned.

How could he say such a thing? It was outrageous! It was appalling! It was…

Intriguing.

Dodo pushed the thought aside immediately. There was absolutely no possibility of—of that happening. After all, the very idea—her, and George?

She had realized he cared for her, beyond the bounds of a typical acquaintanceship. It was starting to become so obvious, she was rather surprised he continued to associate with her. The gossip in Bath was only growing each time they were spotted in public unaccompanied together. If the ton knew he was having a private dinner with her tonight, in her own rooms… That he had suggested such a thing…

George was laughing. “Oh, indeed.”

The heat burning Dodo’s cheeks did not let up as his gentle chuckles filled the room.

Hungry? He wished to… to bed her, then. To engage in amorous congress with her.

And before she could stop them, images arose in her startled mind that absolutely should not have been there. Images of herself, being kissed heartily by George. A George without his jacket, his waistcoat, or even a shirt. Strength lay in the arms that held her, and his lips—

Dodo pulled herself out of the image, pulse racing and lungs tight.

No, that absolutely could not happen. It would be a bad idea—a very bad idea.

Or would it?

The little voice she had always attempted to ignore whenever it came to George Chance, Earl of Lindow, was back, whispering hints of pleasure and delight that the man before her could offer.

Dodo swallowed. She could not deny, even to herself, that she had not greatly enjoyed George’s kisses. The way he knew precisely how to touch her, the way his lips teased sensual delight from her, giving and taking in equal measure…

She could never have imagined such a thing.

And she had just finished her courses. Her knowledge on such matters was perhaps not as it ought, but her mother had always said it was nearly impossible to get with child just after a lady’s menses. So had been her mother’s own observation, at least, and it had worked to keep the number of her pregnancies to two, so Dodo felt that sufficient evidence to believe her theory.

She would not be a candidate for marriage afterward, but she had abandoned the idea of a suitable marriage when she’d decided to come to Bath on her own. Her mere presence in this city without a chaperone already ruled out marriage for her now. She had figured she would never leave the city with her deception, the escort just out of sight at all times, intact.

She had taken that risk. Her family’s need had been too great. A gentleman would be unlikely to marry her now no matter what, so…

If she allowed herself… If she allowed George to…

Dodo swallowed and looked up at the man who had made such a delicate suggestion. Heat soared between her legs.

Oh, if there was any man in the world who would know how to please her, it would be George. There was expertise in those fingers and she could not pretend he was not handsome.

But what was she thinking? She could not permit an earl to bed her! She was not that sort of woman!

Was she?

Dodo met George’s eyes and flushed at the intensity within them. Why she had not guessed he wished to bed her before, she did not know. It was perfectly obvious now, painted across his face. But it wasn’t just desire.

Gazing deep into his blue eyes, Dodo saw desire, yes. But there was more. A cordiality, an affection, even. Perhaps she was being too bold. Perhaps she was seeing something that simply was not there.

But it appeared to be. Was that enough?

Dodo cleared her throat and George straightened with evident excitement. She permitted herself a small smile. It was delightful to seemingly have this much power over a man. Over an earl.

“Tell me three things about yourself,” Dodo said quietly, “and I’ll do the same.”

George blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You mean to have me? In sexual intercourse?”

Perhaps that had been a tad stark. George spluttered, his mouth seemingly unable to construct a response to a comment so bold.

“Is that something you’re telling me,” he said weakly, “or asking me?”

Heat once again scalded Dodo’s cheeks. Goodness, but this is difficult . People were always difficult. If this had been a discussion about multiplication of fractions, she would have been calm and collected. As it was…

“Look,” Dodo said firmly—far more firmly than she felt. “You want to—and I… I am open to the option.”

“‘Open to the—’”

“Open to venturing… there. Yes,” said Dodo, hoping to goodness her cheeks were not too pink. She rose from her seat as she spoke, slowly removing the pie platter, plates, forks, and glasses of wine and placing them on the wooden dresser. “But before we… Before we approach that, I rescind the order that we cannot talk about personal things.”

“No more personal questions. That’s an order.”

It had been a foolish thing to say at the time, but it felt even more foolish now. The little George had shared with her had only made her like him more. Was it not possible, perhaps, that he would feel the same?

“‘Personal things’?” George echoed blankly as she returned to her seat at the table.

“I-I need to know more.”

It was a hard thing to admit. Dodo was not the sort of person to wish for such… such intimacies. On the rare occasions she had attempted to befriend another, the women had rebuffed her. Dull , they had called her. Boring. Insipid.

Just because she had wished to discuss whether there was an end limit to the number of pi. It was a fascinating subject. She didn’t know why no one in Croscombe had been willing to discuss it with her.

George cleared his throat. “I suppose you want dark, deeply personal intimacies?”

There was a pause as Dodo attempted to think what to say. Then she saw the smirk, the arched brow. He was teasing her.

She shoved him on the arm. “ George !”

“Dodo,” he quipped with a smile that made her stomach lurch.

“Look, you asked me. I mean, you said you wanted to eat me—I mean…”

Oh, lord.

“Fine, fine, I understand,” said George, raising his hands in mock-surrender, though he looked a little warm himself. “You want greater intimacy before… before we consider that. And that makes sense. Right. Where shall I begin?”

His expression softened, becoming more serious.

Dodo folded her hands in her lap, her heart racing. This wasn’t a test, though she could see how someone on the outside may presume as such.

The fact was, she had never opened herself up to anything like this before. Prior to sharing everything, baring everything with George… they needed to bare something else first.

Their hearts.

“I’ve told you about my brother Pernrith.”

Dodo nodded, her pulse hammering.

“My brother—my half-brother, if you must know. He … My father … ”

George’s throat bobbed. “I’ve… I’ve always struggled to get on with him. I can’t even tell you when it all began. It seems to have been a part of me for… for as long as I can remember. Right, that’s one thing.”

If her pulse did not slow soon, she was going to find it almost impossible to breathe. There was something so intimate about this—about the way George was speaking. Unburdening himself. Revealing himself. Almost as vulnerable as taking off his clothes…

Almost.

“I play the fool sometimes,” George said with a lopsided grin. “But it’s a habit that’s backfired on me, I must say. It hurts, when people underestimate me, and they do. Far too often.”

Dodo’s sympathy went out to him. She was perhaps in that group yet had never intended to be. George was bold, yes, and brash, and reprehensible at times. But he also clearly had a deep conscience, and a need to be loved, and—

“And I am desperately in love with you,” George said lightly, as though admitting to nothing more interesting than a favorite color. “Is that three things?”

Someone gasped. Only when Dodo realized her hand was on her breast, astonishment roaring through her veins, did she realize it was herself.

He loved her? He was desperately in love with her?

Three things about himself. That was what she’d requested, and goodness, he’d had delivered.

Shimmering anticipation was flowing over her body now. They were one step closer…

“Your turn,” said George gently.

Dodo hesitated, but after he had been so open, so exposed, she could hardly demur, could she?

“And I am desperately in love with you.”

“I am cleverer than people think, and though I know I should hide it, hide what is unbecoming in a woman, I can’t help it,” admitted Dodo, her stomach wrenching.

He was looking at her. No judgment, no appraisal, just interest.

Dodo’s voice was hoarse as she spoke again. “I never feel more at home than when I'm alone, even though I know I am supposed to desire company and revel in the presence of others.”

It was hard to reveal that one. What lady of good breeding would prefer to stay home with an abacus than go to a ball?

“And… ”

Dodo’s voice failed her. She knew what she wanted to say, knew what she needed to say—but the words did not come naturally. She had never spoken them before, knowing that once voiced, they would never be given to another.

“And… ”

George stared at her, all kindness and affection and desire.

Dodo’s stomach lurched as the words spilled out. “And I-I’m desperately in love with you. Exponentially. At least fifty times more than I could have expected.”

Something glimmered in George’s eyes. “You are?”

Dodo nodded, hardly able to believe she was going to do this but knowing there was no turning back now. Not after having revealed such things to him, not after knowing so much about him.

They knew each other far better than she had realized. Slowly, without the intention of opening up to each other, they had. And now…

“Weren’t you saying something,” Dodo said shyly, cheeks burning but determined to continue, “about being hungry?”

He did not appear to need any additional invitation. Moving more swiftly than she had believed a man could, George had risen from his chair and reached for her hands, pulling her upright.

The instant Dodo was on her feet, her legs were quivering. Whose wouldn’t be, if they were being kissed by George?

Because this wasn’t George Chance, Earl of Lindow, who was preventing himself from giving into temptation. Dodo had not realized it at the time, but both times he had kissed her before, he’d been holding back.

Desperately holding back.

His tongue ravaged her lips until they parted, unable to resist the delicious assault, and Dodo sighed with heady bliss as his kiss deepened, becoming more sensual, cascading flickers of carnality down her spine.

His hands were not idle. Though they had both started on her waist, pulling her close into him, one had already meandered to her buttocks, cupping her even tighter to him.

Dodo moaned, unable to help herself, yet George did not appear offended by her admission of desire. Quite to the contrary, it appeared to spur him forward, both hands now on her buttocks, cupping her to him so tightly, he—

“George!” Dodo gasped, breaking the kiss to stare.

As well she might. The strength in his arms had always been something she had supposed, but now she had been given proof. George had lifted her by the buttocks, her feet dangling in the air, and moved to place her on the dining table.

Sitting on a table? What next!

“Dodo, you can stop me at any time,” George said, his words hurried and his voice winded. “Do you understand? At any time.”

Dodo blinked, unsure precisely what he was attempting to tell her. “Of course, but I trust you, I won’t need to—”

“You might, once you know what I want to do to you,” he said with a wicked look, the corner of his lips raised in a tight smirk. “Lie back.”

She stared. What on earth did he want her to do that for? “Lie… Lie back?”

“Lie back,” repeated George, his voice still ragged and his expression full of desire. “I told you. I am hungry.”

Not sure how lying on the dining table would solve his hunger issues, and wondering whether she should have sent down to Mrs. Bryson for a different pie, Dodo slowly lowered herself onto the dining table, her knees at the edge of the surface and her lower legs dangling.

It was a most unusual position to be in. The ceiling had a damp corner she’d never noticed before, and—

“George!”

All thoughts of ceiling—though not of dampness—disappeared.

He halted, his fingers on her knees.

And not her knees through her gown. No, he had already swiftly pulled up her skirts and pushed them up, untying her garters and pushing down her stockings so that so her knees were bare.

And he had been… parting her knees.

Dodo swallowed, still lying back on the table. He couldn’t mean what—no, that was just an appalling thought she’d once had about what might feel nice. But he wouldn’t actually… Surely, no man would—

“May I keep going, Dodo?” George whispered.

His breath was on her thighs, his head must have been right—

Dodo closed her eyes, almost unable to bear the thought of what a sight she was. Then she said, “Y-Yes.”

She was unable to say anything more for quite a few minutes. Slowly, inching leisurely up her thigh, George was kissing her. Kissing her thighs, first one, then the other. Incrementally, he was moving closer and closer to…

“Oh, God,” Dodo moaned.

She was unable to help herself. No one could have prevented themselves from crying out to a deity of their choice with that sensation running over them.

George’s fingers were on her thighs now, pulling them apart, and his mouth—oh, God, his lips were on her secret place, and he was lapping at her.

As though a thirsty man had discovered a life-giving stream.

The pleasure he was creating was crackling through her body, sparking parts of her to life that she had never encountered before, never even known had been there. And she was quivering, quivering with the delight that surged as George darted a tongue inside her.

Oh, it was heavenly. His hands moved to her hips, holding her down to prevent her unconscious squirming from shifting her on the table, and Dodo could do nothing but twist and sigh as George’s tongue swirled slowly around her nub, inching her closer and closer to—

Her hand shot down, her fingers swiftly entangled in his hair as the tempo of his tongue quickened, the waves of gratification roaring through her body.

“George,” Dodo whimpered. “Please—please, George, yes, yes—oh, George!”

The crest broke over her without warning. Every inch of her body was on fire, shivering with the ecstasy she had never felt before. Dodo’s body shuddered against the table, her concentration focused entirely on the way George’s tongue was edging her over the cliff.

It was subsiding. The waves were slowing, though her whole body still felt incredible.

When Dodo believed she would be able to see after opening her eyes, she did so. The damp patch was still on the ceiling, but she was fairly certain it would be nothing compared to the damp patch before her on the table.

With shaking hands, she propped herself up on her elbows to look over at George.

He was straightening up, licking his lips with languid delight as he met her eyes. “You taste wonderful.”

“Is there… Is there a possibility I could feel like that again?”

Something swept across George’s face. “You—You mean that?”

“But I want you to enjoy yourself,” Dodo whispered. “I cannot be the only one to—”

He arched a brow. “You think I did not enjoy myself?”

Heat splashed across her cheeks. “You know what I mean. You… Your… You know.”

Her attention drifted down. Down to the very prominent bulge pressing against the material of his breeches, desperate to be released.

George followed her look and grinned at the sight of how obvious his desire was. “Now do you believe me when I say that I enjoyed doing that? I could do that to you every day.”

Closing her eyes for a moment as she attempted to collect herself—the idea of George doing that to her every day was a very heady one—Dodo opened them again. “I mean it. Take me, George.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled.

“I want you to be tempted,” Dodo said, and it was true. There was something aching still within her, something that hadn’t yet been satisfied. “I need—I need you to finish… I can’t explain, but I want—”

George crushed his lips onto hers and prevented her from speaking, but it appeared he had understood. As he worshipped her mouth, his tongue slowly lingering along her lips until she opened for him, she could sense his hands were elsewhere.

And then she gasped.

He was standing between her legs, on the edge of the table—and was without breeches. The soft skin and rough, wiry hair were a cacophony of new sensations, and Dodo knew she wanted them all.

“I want you,” she breathed, breaking the kiss for only a minute.

Her hands scrabbled at his shoulders, pulling him closer, not sure how to convince him to take her—but George had been right. He did not need much to tempt him.

Dodo huffed with shock and delight as he roughly grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him. Now her buttocks were right on the edge of the table, and George was grasping at—at himself.

His manhood.

She only had a moment’s glance before George was slowly easing himself into her.

Dodo’s back arched against the table, her breathing halted, and he immediately ceased.

“Dodo?”

It wasn’t pain, exactly. No, that wasn’t the word—it was pressure, and tension, and an odd tautness she had never encountered before. But it wasn’t unpleasant, and as Dodo’s breathing resumed, it was remarkably delightful to have the sense of George within her. Closer, more intimate than they had ever been.

Than she had ever been with anyone.

“And… And is that it?” Dodo asked softly. “That was intercourse?”

George chuckled, and only then did she notice his own voice was a mite ragged. “It? My darling, I'm not even all the way in yet. There’s so much—so damn much I want to show you.”

“You’re not all the way—ohhh.” Dodo moaned, lying back on the table and gripping hard to the edges as George continued to push his way deeper.

And deeper. She could hardly believe there was so much of him, but her body kept welcoming him in, eager for him, hungry for him, and waves of new sensations were starting to roar in her ears.

He halted. “There. I’m all the way in. Are you—Dodo, are you—”

“You feel good.” Dodo moaned, shifting her hips and feeling a thrill of decadent sensation. “Oh!”

George groaned. “God, you’re perfect, Dodo. Just perfect.”

A hasty kiss was crushed against her lips, but before she could pull him closer, George had straightened. Then he was removing himself, and Dodo almost cried out with the loss of him. She had wanted to hold this moment forever—

Then he thrust into her.

“Ohhh,” Dodo moaned, her secret place throbbing with the sudden jolts. “Oh, George, that was—”

“I know,” he said softly, starting to build a rhythm now, in and out, slowly, ensuring he fully sheathed himself within her with every thrust. “Just lie back and experience it, Dodo.”

How could she do anything else?

Because the aching was building again, and this time, Dodo knew the destination he was taking her. She clung on to the table as though by letting go, she would float to the ceiling. Her breathing quickened and her pulse raced as she heard George’s panting in time with her own.

Every thrust, every movement shot pleasure through her body, building, building to a peak as he sped up, the pace moving faster and faster, and just when Dodo thought she couldn’t take any more hedonistic bliss, George slipped a thumb into her and circled around her nub.

And Dodo exploded.

“Oh, George!”

Her whole body quivering, shaking with the uncontrolled ecstasy that overtook her, Dodo could just about hear George over her own screams.

“Damn—Christ, Dodo, yes, yes!”

And George was shouting as well, and shaking, and something hot was streaming into her and Dodo knew she would never be this close to another person again. Never feel so one with another.

Never love another like this.

George collapsed into Dodo’s waiting arms, and she knew, she knew. He was the only one for her.