Love Language (The Aristocrat Diaries 1)

“If you don’t stop that, we will not make it to your bedroom,” he warned me in a gravelly tone. “I promise you that.”

I bit my lip and pulled back. “I’ll have to stop then.”

“Come here.”

Laughing, I ran through the hallway to the stairs and up them. Miles was just about fast enough to catch me, but he didn’t, instead opting to tickle my legs under my skirt when he was near enough.

He got me at the top of the stairs, and I kissed him with all the vigour I could muster. I was desperate for him. I wondered if I truly knew what it was like to want someone until now, until this point, when it felt like I was going to burst if I didn’t get him in my room right this second.

I dragged him along the hall to my bedroom door and pulled him inside, shoving the door shut after us. It made a deafening bang, but I barely noticed as we came together again.

This time it was rougher, more desperate, needier. We pulled back together to the bed where we fell back, and our limbs tangled together. Shoes came off, and I tugged his t-shirt up, letting my fingertips roam across the smooth skin of his back. He parted my legs and slipped between them, hooking one up over his hip.

His erection pressed firmly against me, and before I could blink, my hips were pushing against him, grinding, almost begging him for more.

Oh, shit.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered.

“What?” Miles pulled back, panicked. “Did I hurt you? Was I on your hair?”

“No.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t—I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh, fuck it.”

“I don’t suppose you do?”

“Can’t say it’s something I carry around in my pocket while I’m gardening, princess, no.”

I deflated. All this, and for what? A night of dirty, unsatisfying dreams that ultimately end up with me doing the job myself?

Apparently so.

“Do you have one in your car?” I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Again, not something I bring to work.”

“Well, start,” I grumbled.

He laughed, getting up. “Can I wait here for five minutes? Don’t really want to explain myself.”

Sitting up, I glanced at his crotch. And grinned.

“Gabriella.”

“What? I can’t look?” I ran my hand through my hair with a sigh, then stopped.

Oh.

“Hang on. I have an idea.”

“I’m not pulling out. That’s how my cousin got his side piece pregnant.”

“Yes, well, I’m on birth control and I’m not your side piece—wait, am I?”

Miles laughed. “No. You’re the only piece, princess.”

“Bloody right I am. Just wait here a second, okay?” I held up my hands and pulled up the shoulder of my dress that had fallen down as he’d undone the buttons. I clasped it at my breasts and quickly darted out of the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

Aunt Cat had condoms in her room. Nobody else was home, so I could slip into her room and grab one from her nightstand. She’d told me that when the storm hit, so she wouldn’t mind now, surely.

Besides, I could put one back for her. I’d just borrow it.

I felt like I was back at university.

Not that I’d lasted long there, but I digress.

I crept down to her room, thankful to be barefoot. It was a lot harder to creep if one was wearing shoes. I gave a cursory glance around for anyone, but there was nobody, and there was nothing to indicate anyone was here, either. Our guests had all left this morning except for Alexander, and it looked as though he was still out with my father.

All right.

I was going to do this.

My vagina demanded I do this.

My brain was in full agreement.

“Two years, Gabriella,” it whispered.

Sod this.

I pushed open the door and froze.

There were people in the room.

In Aunt Cat’s room.

She was in the bed, frozen in place, and—

I screamed and slammed the door, bolting down the hallway back to my room where Miles was already making his way out.

“What’s the matter?”

“Get inside now!” I shoved him in and shut my door, leaning against it.

I was never, ever going to be able to look Arthur Fredericks in the eye again.

Or my aunt, for that matter.

At least she’d been mostly under the covers. Arthur…had not been. Thank God he’d been putting his trousers on and was covered up.

“Gabriella. What’s wrong?” Miles cupped my face. “Is someone there?”

I nodded, horrified.

“Who is it?” He tried the door, but I wouldn’t move. Couldn’t, actually.

“Arthur. In my aunt’s bedroom. Half-naked.”

Miles stopped. “What?”

“Uh-huh.” I stared at the wall on the opposite side of the room. “I think I need therapy.”

“What’s going on? Who screamed?”

“Oh, no,” I breathed. “That’s my father. Hide. I have to distract him.”

I took a deep breath and stepped outside. Both Dad and Alex were there, looking around curiously.

“Gabi,” Dad said. “I heard a scream from your aunt’s room. Is something going on?”