The Promise

by V J Dunraven

  He was grinning like the big bad wolf, all hairy and sinewy and—she darted her eyes downwards —monumentally noteworthy and profoundly scary. She knew he was going to take the bonbons, pretend to be harmless to a fault, then gobble up poor little Cassie in the red riding cloak.

  She leaned backwards on her elbows, sinking deeper into the bed as he stalked her on all fours, like a dangerous beast sniffing at his feast. He was going to eat her—she just knew it—alive, and he would start with her liver!

  The hairy, scary, but remarkably attractive beast paused over her, propped his hands on either side of her head and straddled her legs between his knees.

  “What are you doing here, brat?” His voice even sounded different—deep and raspy, as if it came from the bowels of the earth, sending shivers down her spine. “Did you come alone?”

  What a clever question! She could just tell he would instantly swallow her whole if she admitted she came by herself, so she shook her head in vehement denial.

  “I see.” his lashes swept upwards and he reached for something over her head. “You came with Mister Feather.”

  Cassandra swallowed the alarm rising in her throat as he retrieved the fluffy ostrich feather she had brought, and brandished it like a white flag for her to lay down her arms and avow surrender.

  “And what, may I ask, did you and Mister Feather hope to accomplish?” He brushed the soft, wispy plumes along her flaming cheek repeatedly, swirling it in mesmerizing patterns. The sensation made her stomach clench and jolt into a flip-flop, sending a flow of current through her frazzled nerves. “N-n-nothing,” Cassandra croaked, shrinking away from the teasing plumes and trying to calm her roiling innards from attacking each other. There could be no mistaking it—she was absolutely certain that even though this Jeremy resembled her Jeremy, it was not her Jeremy at all. This creature was possessed, a fiend—the devil incarnate! If she lived through the night—and chances were insufficient even to consider, but she abhorred negative cogitation. Still—if she did, she swore she would return in the morning with a crucifix and a jug of holy water.

  “Nothing, aye?” The devil’s eyes narrowed into slits and she sank further into the feather-filled bed as he bent his arms and rested his weight on his elbows.

  He was much too close, oh, Lord—so close, she could feel the swelter of the fires of hell radiating from his skin, penetrating the fabric of her dress. A heady, spicy, masculine scent exuded from his pores, disconcerting her sensibilities into an uproar. Why, oh, why did the village vicar fail to warn the congregation that Satan smelled far too heavenly to ignore?

  “Are you saying that both you and Mister Feather are innocent?” He traced the outline of her earlobe lightly with the quill. “Hmm?”

  Cassandra nodded, and then shook her head.

  His breath fanned the little hairs that had loosened from her braid, tickling the side of her neck. Goosebumps rose on her arms—God Almighty, why was he looking at her with those dark, heavy-lidded eyes? She had never stared into them this intently before—have they always been crowned with lashes so exceedingly thick and long?

  He crinkled his dark brows. “Yes-no? No-yes?” He smiled crookedly and her gaze shifted to that delicious mouth. His lower lip was fuller than the upper, so sensual, yet so manly, it seemed to beckon her to sample what it tasted like.

  Cassandra squashed that idea in mid-thought.

  Since when did she think Jeremy’s lips looked good enough to lick? Had the malevolent spirit instigated some underhanded mind-trick to tempt her to covet a kiss?

  “Well? What is it going to be, brat?” He shifted his position so that she could feel the entire length of his body pressed against hers. His hard chest flattened her aching breasts and she could feel his heartbeat between their rigid crests. Oh my, he was boiling hot—but he was naked and—and—eekk! What was that peck?

  She suddenly heaved him off her and scampered off the bed.

  “What’s the matter?” The devil who looked remarkably like Jeremy lifted a brow and rose from the bed, unmindful of the glorious naked splendor he displayed in front of her like the parting of the red sea.

  She took one look at that thing and her mouth desiccated into ash. She could swear—it had a mind of its own for it was pointing an accusing veined, nail-less, finger—directly at her.

  Good Lord! Panic churned in her gut. Perhaps the devil could read her thoughts! She spun around so fast she ran into a wall.

  “Where are you going?” The ominous entity asked in that rich, velvety, devilish voice as he caught her, still wobbling dizzily from her collision with the plaster paneling.

  “I-I-I—” she flinched, forgetting whatever lie she was about to devise, when he pinned her against the wall, holding her wrists above her head.

  The unidentified poking object pushed stubbornly against her belly.

  “Your thing is poking me!” She squirmed, but her wriggling seemed to make it prod even more insistently.

  “Ah, yes,” he replied with eyes gleaming like that of the Prince of Darkness. “That’s what it likes to do.”

  “I-is that your t-tail?” she gulped, and perhaps he had horns too?

  “My tail?” He let out a vigorous, evil laugh. “No, sweetheart—that’s my snake.”

  “Y-your s-snake?” She stole a downward glance, but his torso blocked the view. “W-what’s it doing in there?”

  “It’s looking for the Garden of Eden,” his tone lowered into a baritone and he nuzzled her neck, making her shiver.

  “Eden?” Her heart pounded in a rapid staccato as unfamiliar warmth bloomed in the virginal depths of her core. “Where is it?” she asked breathlessly.

  The tail, which he preferred to call his snake, thrust against the sultry, moist triangle between her legs. ”Sweetheart,” he whispered huskily, “it’s underneath your skirt.”

  Chapter 23

  Lesson Number One

  Jeremiah Devlin Huntington, also known as Devil, the wicked Marquess of Waterford, could not quite fathom what to make of the young woman in front of him. All women—with just one heart-stopping smile and a steamy, syrupy, heavy lidded gaze, would have taken their clothes off and torn their pantalettes in half.

  But oh, no—not Miss Cassandra Carlyle—also known as the notorious Piglet, the equally wicked brat. As soon as he had mentioned where the Garden of Eden could be found, she had stared at him with green eyes, big and round. Then, she began to chuckle—which bubbled into a giggle—which eventually ended up with a hoot of laughter.

  “Oh, Jeremy, you oaf!” She slid her wrists from his grasp and smacked him playfully on the forehead. “Garden of Eden indeed!” she chortled and pushed him away, giving his aching, massive erection a swat that sent it swinging like a pendulum on a grandfather clock.

  Good God, but that hurt! Jeremy howled and covered his poor member to protect it from another unforeseen assault. Of all the females in the kingdom he would kill to defile, why, dear Lord, why—did it have to be Cassandra Carlyle? She was a dangerous virgin, a ruthless hoyden—a merciless castrator or in this case—castratress incarnate! If he survived the night and emerged in the morning with his manhood and balls intact, he would tie her up spread-eagled in a dungeon and show her how a real man made love!

  “Oh no!” The merciless castratress reached out to pry away his hands. “Did I hurt you?”

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” He swiped her fingers away from his most precious possession.

  “Jeremy—I apologize—I did not mean to—”

  He shrunk back from her. Did she think he would let her near his snake again? ”Gah! Get away from me! What were you trying to do? Neuter me?”

  “Nonsense. Let me see—” she took a step forward and dropped to her knees, unceremoniously prying his fingers off his forlorn, defanged viper.

  �
�Cassie—will you please refrain from—”

  She gasped. “Oh, Jeremy! I am so sorry!” She stared wide-eyed at his sex. “Oh Lord, I think I killed it by accident!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “I swear I did not mean to—”

  “Cassie—”

  “What are we going to do now?” she replied, oblivious to his discomfiture.

  “Cass—”

  “It’s dead, isn’t it? Should we bury it?” She poked his limp appendage with her finger, as if to make sure it had truly departed this earth.

  “Stop—”

  “Oh, dear. But I’m afraid we’ll have to pluck it off first. Not to worry—I’ll help you. Do you suppose I can borrow a cleaver from Cookie?”

  Jeremy uttered a chain of curses. Good God! The mad castratress was determined to geld him and turn him into a eunuch!

  “That won’t be necessa—”

  She suddenly reached out and cupped his sex with one hand, then stroked it with the other. “You poor thing,” she cooed. “I did not mean to clobber you on the head like that. Oh please, don’t be dead—would you please open an eye?” she frowned and glanced up at him. “Jeremy—do you know that your snake only has one eye? Quite an anomaly, don’t you think?”

  “Cassandra!” Jeremy growled and pulled his supposedly deceased member from her clasp. “That is quite enough, missy!”

  Her face crumpled. “Please don’t be mad at me, Jeremy. I was only trying to see if your snake—”

  “This is not my snake!” Jeremy cursed so loud he was almost certain he had woken up the whole house. “This—” he grabbed his lifeless pecker in a chokehold, “is my cock!”

  Cassandra lapsed into silence, looking thoroughly befuddled. “I’m confused,” her fine brows snapped together.

  “About what!” Jeremy snapped. Devil help him if this exasperating woman drove him to throttle her virgin self to death.

  “You said it was a snake,” she glanced suspiciously at his limp appendage, “—and now you’re telling me it’s a chicken?”

  Gah! The little dimwitted twit! He uttered several colorful expletives, reminding himself not to indulge in any more virginal trysts. Here he was, naked and exposed in all his male glory, balls bursting with the need for release—and all the woman wanted to do was argue about animals of the scaled and feathered variety.

  Jeremy pursed his lips. If he did not know any better, he would have submitted to the ridiculousness of the situation. But something about it wasn’t right.

  Cassie may be a virgin and may act perplexed, but she was in no way naïve. She’d been around him too long not to learn what went on beneath the bedcovers and had seen too much of Allayne’s naughty pamphlets not to recognize a man’s sex. Therefore—what was she doing here, poking at his cock and at the same time feigning innocence?

  “Let me ask you again,” he said in a sterner voice, all the more certain that the brat came here for a reason and was leading him in an orbit by his nose. “Why are you here, brat? And don’t even think about lying—believe me, I shall finagle the bottom of this.”

  “I-I brought you some bonbons,” she extracted a small box from her skirt pocket.

  “You brought me some bonbons.”

  “Yes.”

  “In the middle of the night.”

  “Yes.”

  “With Mister Feather?” Jeremy raised a brow.

  “I like Mister Feather.” she glared at him.

  “How did you get into my bedchamber?”

  “I-I—” her eyes darted to the open window.

  Jeremy muttered a curse and peered outside. “Who gave you that ladder?”

  “No one.”

  “How did it get here then?” Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I don’t know.”

  He strode towards her and shook her shoulders. “You better tell me the truth right now, Cassandra Carlyle, or I’ll dismiss all the servants in this house! Let me ask you again—what are you doing in my bedchamber?”

  “I-I-I wanted to bring you some bonbons—”

  “What about the feather?”

  “I wanted to tickle you while you were sleeping—”

  “And once I awakened?”

  “Then I’d give you the bonbons.”

  Jeremy narrowed his eyes. From Grandstone Park to Rose Hill Manor and all the way to Waterford Park, everybody knew that bonbons were Cassie’s currency for bribes. “You’re bringing me bonbons in exchange for what, brat?”

  “Nothing.” She examined her nails.

  “For what?” He fairly snarled the words out.

  “I-I was wondering, well—I thought I might um—” she began to fidget and avoided his gaze, “persuade you to t-teach me how to seduce Richard.”

  “Fuck!” Jeremy rammed his fist onto the wall. He had never felt so angry with Cassie. He wanted to strangle her, ravish her, kiss her—suck the fucking madness out of her head. An idea flickered in his mind. Why the fuck not? If she wanted him to show her some lessons in seduction, why couldn’t he use the opportunity to seduce her himself?

  “Well—will you do it?” she asked hesitantly. “I-I can bring more bonbons if you like.”

  Jeremy gave her a sly smile. “All right brat, you win. Yes, I’ll do it.”

  “Truly?” Her eyes lit up.

  “On one condition.” he ran a finger lazily along her jaw line.

  “W-what?”

  “You must come to me.” he lifted her chin and looked into her wide emerald eyes. “Every night—beginning tonight.”

  W-we start tonight?” she gulped.

  “Yes.” he trailed his forefinger slowly from her chin down to her throat, unhooking her red riding cloak to expose the creamy, smooth skin above the neckline of her dress.

  “Lesson number one.” he let his finger continue its exploration along her décolletage. “Before you can learn how to seduce a man, you must first experience how it feels to be seduced.”

  He dipped his finger inside the neckline of her dress and circled her nipple, watching her eyes widen with a startled gasp and her lips part with a tremble.

  Chapter 24

  Lesson Number One (Part Two)

  Cassandra knew there would be no turning back once she had managed to manipulate Jeremy into teaching her his magic formula.

  She had changed her mind a hundred times before she got into his bedchamber, and changed her mind another thousand times again when he caught her, but none of her pretense at innocence deceived him.

  He was too worldly, too experienced, too sly and too familiar with her not to know what was going on inside her head. Yes—she had successfully swayed him into giving in, so why did she have the feeling that he’d outmaneuvered her in her own scheme?

  “J-jeremy—” his probing finger had left her incoherent and she didn’t even know why she breathed his name.

  “Sshh.” His lips followed the trail his finger had traced, making her catch her breath and her breasts to heave upwards, offering themselves like sacrificial lambs for his inspection.

  “Jeremy no—” she protested, her hand coming up to restrain his hand as he hooked a forefinger inside the scoop neckline of her dress and tugged it downwards, exposing a pink nipple.

  “Sshh.” He clasped her wrist and lowered her hand, tucking it behind her back.

  Cassandra gasped in shock as he took the hard peak in his mouth and suckled it, making her knees buckle. He supported her weight with a strong arm around her waist and swirled his tongue around the sensitive tip repeatedly, until she was dizzy with wanting.

  “Oh, Jeremy—” she buried her fingers in his thick black hair, wanting to say something—anything, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t remember. She really ought to question his bold imposition upon
her person, but her mind had gone numb and her nerves had become frazzled.

  He released her nipple and rested his forehead against hers, dark eyes heavy lidded with what she could only describe as wild, raw desire. “Isn’t this what you want?” He asked huskily against her lips.

  “Y-yes, but—”

  “This is how a man seduces a woman, sweetheart,” he kissed her throat and cupped her breast, squeezing it through the fabric of her dress.

  “J-Jeremy—” Cassandra could not think, could not breathe, could not speak—except to utter the name of this devil, who was driving her to perdition with an unfamiliar need. He overwhelmed her with his audacity, his strength, his maddening, musky, masculine scent.

  “Touch me.” He took the hand he held behind her and placed it on his muscled chest as he ran the tip of his tongue along the outline of her earlobe.

  “H-here?” Cassandra plowed her fingers through the coarse dark hair that matted his chest.

  “Yes,” he whispered, and nipped her earlobe with his teeth.

  Cassandra felt the heavy beating of his heart against her palm as she caressed the groove between the mounds of his chest muscles. His breathing quickened, as her fingers drifted to the tiny nubs at their crests, pointing in response to her touch.

  “Kiss it,” he rasped against her ear.

  “Pardon me?” She paused from exploring the beautiful hollows and slopes of his chest and looked up at him.

  “Like this.” he dipped his head once again and took her nipple in his mouth, suckling and teasing it until she thought she would go out of her mind and scream.

  “I-is this really n-necessary?” she panted, feeling a hot tingle course down her belly.

  He pulled away from her breast and cupped her face with his hands, gently guiding her mouth to the raised dark circle on his chest. “If you want to learn how to seduce a man, you must also learn how to pleasure him.”