Wild, Wicked and Wanton: A Hot Historical Romance Bundle

by Natasha Blackthorne

  With one eye open, Grey watched the expression of pure bliss consume Beth’s features. His cock throbbed unbearably, pressing against the fall of his pantaloons. The last spasms contracted her flesh around his fingers and, spent, she collapsed in the circle of his arms with a soft sigh. He lifted his chin and cradled her head against his shoulder and waited while her breathing slowed.

  He had come here, to her chamber—this servant’s attic chamber in which she’d spent her childhood—determined to put the rule of law to her about signing loans for her siblings. He’d been damned generous with the McConnells. If they couldn’t live within their new, extended means, he wasn’t about to subsidize them further.

  Beth moaned and stirred in his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder.

  Yes, he’d meant to chastise her over the moneylender but the sight of her here on the window seat, all warm and sleepy, had awoken his lust so strongly that it had driven rational thought away.

  Devil take him, she was such a little scrap of a thing but she had to be the most exciting woman in the world.

  And she was his.

  Before he left this chamber, she was going to admit it. There would be no doubts between them about who was in control.

  “I love you. God help me, I love you so ardently.” He wrapped a hand about the mass of her hair and pulled gently. “Say it—tell me you love me.”

  She laughed, the sound sinfully sensual. She slid her hand down over his waistcoat. He caught his breath and held it as her hand reached the superfine cloth of his pantaloons. His pulse went racing away.

  He wanted to fuck the very breath out of her. He glanced at her narrow little bed. How badly would those ropes creak?

  Something brushed his straining hardness, startling him out of his thoughts. He glanced down and found her little fingers working nimbly, undoing his buttons. His erection grew harder, lengthening and straining painfully against his fall. God, he wanted to wrench the buttons open and free himself, but she looked so adorable, her delicate brows drawn tightly together, her mouth set in determination as she struggled with his buttons, that he let her have her way. Finally, she had the last button undone, and he sprang into her cool hand.

  He sighed with relief.

  She stroked him with sure, deft movements, exactly the right amount of pressure. Hunger ravished him. But she wasn’t going to distract her way out of this. “I know you love me, so just say it—just once, you little vixen.”

  She moved away from him, dropped down to the floor and squatted on her feet before him. She bent her head and pressed her cheek to his thigh, then glanced up. Her cheeks were flushed, and her loose hair was a bright, silver-gilt spilled over his dark blue pantaloons.

  “Do you want to feel how I feel for you?” she asked, her voice breathy and soft, her eyes smoky blue. He got that peculiar catch in his heart—the one he’d got the very first time he’d met her eyes.

  He ran his hand over her hair, caressing the silken strands with his fingertips. She rubbed her cheek against his thigh and her eyes locked with his, glowing with tenderness now. The depth of emotion in her gaze struck him right in the heart. God. When she looked at him like that, what did the words really matter? He nodded.

  “Hold my hands,” she said, reaching them out to him.

  He took her hands, threading her fingers with his, steadying her as she leant forward. His cock surged eagerly towards her lips. She kissed the head, then moved her mouth down his length, slowly, until the tip touched the warm, moist snugness of her throat. She had not taken her eyes from his as she suckled on him. It was as if his heart and cock were linked.

  I am so besotted with her.

  Maybe it wasn’t the most comfortable thing for a man like him to be infatuated, but it did provide moments of stunning pleasure. And there was nothing he could do about being besotted, so he might as well enjoy it.

  She released his cock, then moved her mouth along the shaft, over and over, before taking him back into her mouth and swallowing him deeply, without ever breaking their eye contact.

  She pulled her hands from his, then stroked his length, gliding over his shaft slick from her mouth. With mouth and hands, she propelled him to dizzy heights. His balls, heavy now with his arousal, drew up snug to his body. He touched her soft ringlets, and caressed her satin cheek, unable to keep his hips from thrusting forward.

  “I’ll come, Beth.” He took a ragged breath. “God help me, I am going to come so hard.”

  Her hand quickened upon his shaft.

  “I want you to.” He could hear the sloshing wetness of her mouth. It made his balls tighten even further. “I want to taste you. I want you to pour yourself down my throat.”

  She put her mouth back on him, grasped his arse and swallowed his length whole.

  His cock went hard beyond bearing.

  “Now, Beth,” he breathed. Tremors began deep in his balls. Oh, Christ. His hips arched forward.

  She tightened her hands on his buttocks, pulling him closer, swallowing him deeper.

  He gripped the back of her head. His seed shot out in fierce jets, pleasure exploding in his loins. His whole body shook with the power of his release.

  Oh, Christ.

  He opened his eyes. She was still holding him in her mouth; his erection lingered. He loosened his hold on her hair, then brushed his fingertips over her face. She leaned in to his touch, her eyes burning into his.

  He loved her so fervently. He didn’t want to leave her.

  He was in love for the first time in his life and right now, he just wanted to feel. He wanted to be near her.

  Maybe he didn’t need to leave her. Maybe he could send detailed instructions to his business manager. Maybe they could still just forget this business of a church wedding and get married right away. He could just take her home to New York and forget the two-week wedding trip.

  She released him, put her head on his thigh and closed her eyes. He stroked her silken hair. His breathing and heart rate returned to normal and, with that recovery, clear thought returned.

  God.

  His blood ran cold.

  For those few moments, once again, he’d been considering delaying his return home.

  He was letting his love for her seduce him into things he should not do.

  Should not even contemplate doing.

  War was upon them and any misstep he made could cause everything to be lost.

  Just look at how utterly he had almost lost all control over his emotions and actions. This was not the time for rash, emotionally charged decisions.

  He must keep his priorities in proper order.

  He really must regain control over his wayward, tempestuous emotions.

  And then he must gain control, once and for all, over his tempestuous girl. He forced his tone to be stern. Far, far sterner than he felt.

  “Beth, I have to leave tonight—I’ve got to get back to New York.”

  Chapter Seven

  Grey’s casually spoken words cleared the sleepy, satisfied stupor out of Beth’s brain. “Wait…what?” She sat up straight. “You’re leaving when?”

  “Now. I need to get there as soon as possible.” He took her hand and pressed it briefly to his cheek. Then he eased her head off his leg.

  She sat back on her heels and watched as he repaired his clothing.

  “You’ll stay here with Mrs. Hazelwood—it is all arranged. I’ll be back in time for the wedding.”

  Her head spun. Was she dreaming? Had he just said he was leaving now, this evening, for New York?

  He reached down and scooped her into his embrace. His arms were strong and his body was warm. She couldn’t resist hugging his broad shoulders and nestling her cheek against his lapel. No, he couldn’t mean it. He couldn’t leave just when they had become so close once more.

  He’d at least stay a day or two longer.

  He stood and hoisted her up with one arm under her knees and one wrapped about her shoulders. Bouncing softly with his every step,
she clung to him. His body heat, his strength, his masculine scent surrounded her all the more.

  He lowered her gently and she fell softly onto the feather bed. His face came close to hers and he kissed her. Briefly. Chastely. He pulled away.

  She gripped his shoulders. “Stay. Stay and love me.”

  His expression hardened. He gently pulled her hands away and straightened. “You must be very tired after all the tedious shopping today.”

  She gaped at him. He couldn’t be serious. She was used to laboring hard and walking everywhere she needed to go. She was no delicate Juliana de Lange.

  But, no, he appeared quite serious.

  Did he want her to be delicate?

  She chewed her lip as he continued, “You should sleep before supper. But first I want to tell you I placed a substantial sum in an account under your name—in case something should happen, you’ll be cared for. The money in the bank operates under a trust. It gives you a set allowance each year.”

  So different from Charlie or Joshua, Grey was cautious. Deliberate. Protective. A warm curl of something settled in her belly, something so foreign she scarcely recognized it at first.

  Security.

  And she’d craved the feeling for so long. She’d have simply died to admit that before now. God, a girl could get dependent on such a feeling.

  “In fact, Beth, it allows you only a set amount a month.” Surely that wasn’t his voice, so paternalistic and hard?

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, mahogany box with shiny brass hinges. He opened it.

  Inside lay a hundred dollar bill. No, wait—a thick stack of hundred dollar bills. The sight of them swam in her vision as her head seemed to float upwards.

  God, she’d never seen so much money. Her heart began to pound against her ribcage. It was like being faced with the proof of his wealth all at once—the power of his wealth and her temptation to be swayed by it.

  Controlled by it.

  Yes, she’d known he was wealthy. Yes, he’d already spent a small fortune on her for clothes and sundries. And yes, he had invested in her brother’s shop and also purchased a carriage and four for Charlie and Ruth’s personal use. And what sane-headed girl wouldn’t want unlimited frocks and cases of aged claret and pineapples and glittering jewelry and improved circumstances for her family and everything else he’d showered her with in the past weeks?

  But that wealth had seemed somehow remote, a part of his life away from her, in the world of business and society. The aura made him more exciting, alluring, forbidden to her, but it hadn’t been so tangible until this very moment.

  You see, men like him—they must own everything and everyone in their lives. Even when they are done with them. And they grow bored so quickly.

  Joshua’s words resounded in her mind.

  Her mouth dried.

  Grey closed the box. “Guard this well—it contains enough money for you to have anything you need until I return.”

  He set the box on her night table.

  She looked at it and swallowed, hard.

  “Beth.” His tone resonated with controlled patience.

  Her shoulders stiffened at his tone. She was beginning to know him. A lecture was coming. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, and glanced back at him. “Yes?”

  “I prefer you to spend this money on yourself, for your wants and needs alone. I don’t want it ending up in your brother’s hands. I have taken care of him. He is no longer your worry.” Under his gentle tone, the command was unmistakable. “No more moneylenders, no more signing for loans. I am placing my trust in you.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Beth, I do mean it. If you betray my trust this time—”

  “Oh. So this is a test?”

  “Perhaps it is.”

  That hurt—more than she wanted to admit. A need to defend herself rose hot in her blood. “I won’t do that again, but, you see, Ruth’s boy was unwise at cards, he—”

  “I don’t care to hear the details; they do not matter. The only thing that matters is I do not want my wife being used by her—”

  “Used? You’re suggesting Ruth would—” she sputtered, “—that she could intentionally use me like that?”

  “I am not suggesting anything. I am saying it flat out. Your half-siblings use you and you allow it. But I mean to put an end to it.”

  “You don’t understand how it—”

  He held up a forestalling hand. “Listen, I do understand, too well. But I can’t allow this to go on. I want you to stay here with Mrs. Hazelwood. It’s better if you begin to break away from your siblings and their lives now. It will make the adjustment easier when we move to New York.”

  “But they are my family! I have so little time left with them.”

  His eyes turned to gray ice. “You must commit to me first, Beth—I shall be your husband.”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “I shall have my way in this. You must commit firmly to me. You must obey my wishes on this.”

  She caught her breath so hard her neck muscles tensed. He’d just dictated where she would live until their wedding and he thought to justify his control over her by paying her. He was leaving her and trying to buy her obedience to his will while he was away. Oh, she certainly felt like a wife now—only in the worst possible way. Apparently, security had its price.

  She handed him back the box. “I don’t need your money. When you come back, I shall wed you and move with you to New York. Until then, I shall live as I have been living, with my brother and sister.”

  If his eyes had been chilly before, now they went positively glacial. “I decided to invest in your brother’s shop and expand it solely to discharge this foolish responsibility you feel to the children of a man who rejected you.”

  The edge in his voice sent a cold ripple into her stomach. “They are finding the transition troublesome. They need help sorting out what to keep and what to throw out before the move. In addition, there are many orders that need to be settled before they change locations.”

  His jaw twitched. “You must commit wholly to me, Beth. Your siblings have to learn to cope without you. There’s no better time for them to start than now.”

  “But—”

  “There are no buts here. As I said, they take advantage of you and I mean to put an end to it.”

  The man’s incredible audacity! She gasped. “I am not your wife yet. You’ve no call to dictate my life. Especially when you are not sharing your life with me yet.”

  “You insist on being difficult when I am only trying to help you—only trying to care for you.” He took the box and stood. His eyes were hooded. He shook his head slowly. “I try, Beth. I try so very hard to show you my love, my concern. You throw it back in my face. Why do you do that?”

  “I—I don’t.” Her voice sounded strangled. She tried to clear it. “I just don’t want you to think that all I want is your money…that I can be controlled through your money.”

  “You do me yet another insult.” He turned on his heel.

  She watched his broad-shouldered back as he walked to the door. She ran to him, wrapped her arms about his waist and pressed her face to his back. She inhaled the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat and their sex. “No, don’t leave me! Not when there are so many things between us—things I don’t understand!”

  “What must you understand?” His voice vibrated through his strong frame.

  “I want you to tell me more about Juliana.”

  “Beth…don’t do this. Not now.”

  “I have to know.”

  He took her hands and pulled them away from his waist. He turned to face her, still holding her hands. “She has nothing to do with us.”

  She chewed her lip and gathered up her courage, her breath quickening. “But you set her aside.”

  His lips compressed, the flesh around them going white.

  She smoothed his lapel. “Grey, just tell me so I can understand. The duel… Jo
shua said—”

  “Joshua said?” His hand encircling her wrists became like an iron manacle. A jolt ricocheted through her heart. What had she just said?

  Oh, sweet heaven—what had she just said?!

  “He followed me. I went outside at Mrs. Hazelwood’s for some air and he followed me.” She swallowed against a tightening throat. “You knew.” Her last words squeaked out as a bare whisper.

  He studied her for a moment, his eyes pale gray and boring into her. Prying at her secrets. “Yes, I knew—however, this sounds a quite intimate discussion with Joshua.” He mimicked her voice with horrible, simpering softness. “Far more intimate than I gave you credit for being.”

  “Grey, please, it was nothing.”

  His wintery stare flicked over her face, freezing her blood. “You met with him to strike at me for Baltimore, didn’t you?”

  Had she? Possibly. She didn’t exactly wish to look too deeply into that aspect of it at the moment. She took a hitching breath. “He means nothing. No one does now, except for you.”

  “Dr. Wade, Thomas Watson—who else Beth? How many men? How many are friends of mine? Is it only here, in Philadelphia, or will I be faced with your former lovers among my associates in New York?”

  Her heart beat up into her throat, almost gagging her. She could count her past lovers on one hand, but she couldn’t say if he was friendly with them or not. “Grey, please don’t do this. You said we should not accuse each other with our pasts; that we must focus on the future.”

  “Beth, I won’t stand for your disloyalty. I won’t stand for flirtation or slights to my honor. You have to behave like a lady from here on out. You agreed to it.”

  Yes, she had. He’d explained what would be required of her. God knew she never intended to be disloyal or play the flirt. But there was a stranger inside her. A passionate stranger who hungered for a man’s appreciative gaze, his strong body upon hers. A part of her that suddenly frightened her. They could not part with coldness between them. She swallowed against that persistent lump in her throat. They couldn’t. She had to have the memory of their passion to sustain her.