She could drown in his gaze; loose herself in the wide fathomless black pupils. The naked truth shone out of them and her heart lurched somewhere in her chest. She recognized love when she saw it. Crying, she flung herself into his embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” she gulped on tears, moved beyond the capacity to hold them in. “I’d dreamed of you all my life, measured all other men against your standard. I was used to wanting you, but there was no reason to expect you to feel the same connectedness. I’ve never wanted marriage before meeting you, and because of what father terms my hoydenish behavior, I never dreamed you would want to marry me. I thought I could settle for an affair. Your rejection almost ripped my heart out my chest. I’d never felt such pain.”
“I refused the carte blanche because I wanted more. I still want more—more even than marriage with you. Chassy, I don’t want a society bargain like my parents endured. I’d like a true partnership, a blending of our hearts and bodies. I want to have children with you…not just an heir and the spare. I want so much…”
Smiling through her tears, she lifted her hand to his beloved face, tracing the mobile lips and firm jaw. He dipped his head and rubbed his cheek against her palm, the gesture oddly submissive and manly at the same time. “I want to give you everything you desire. Everything.”
His face snapped up, eyes glittered with new-wakened lust. “You mean…?”
Though still wary of all it might entail, she wouldn’t deny him anything. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she nodded, eyes shyly dropping from his dark gaze. He didn’t allow her to escape so easily. A finger beneath her chin lifted her head until she found herself mirrored in his pupils. “Say it.”
“I want you to take my anal virginity.”
He chuckled. “Now say it like you mean it.”
She couldn’t fool him. He knew her too well, understood her fears better than she did. But she could do this because she loved him and trusted him not to willingly hurt her. Laughter welled up at the thought of how he would react to her next actions.
With a last puckish kiss, she backed up on her knees, turned, and stretched her upper body out in a lazy curve. Widening her legs, she lifted her bottom, presenting her cheeks to him in a saucy pose that had her juices running forward to dampen the tight curls covering her mons. She gave her ass a flirty little wiggle and couldn’t hold back a sharp sigh when the flat of his hand landed against the rounded curve of her buttocks.
“Oh, you’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you?”
He rubbed the stinging spot, bent and strung a line of sucking kisses along the crease between her full cheeks. She shivered and moaned at the intense and frightening feelings his touch awakened. She’d never felt such heat from simple mouth-to-flesh contact.
Another slap fell, sharper than before. Her nipples tightened.
“Get that ass higher in the air…and get those legs further apart. I want to see your sweet little pussy winking at me.”
She obeyed, shaking with the arousal his words caused. The muscles low in her belly clenched and quivered. “Flying serpents, Dare, I love when you talk to me like this!”
“I promise you, you’re going to love everything I do to you.” His hands coasted up and down her back, soothing her jangled nerves before he stung her bottom with another random swat.
Her knees gave way but his forearm was under her, around her waist. He lifted her back into position and barked an order to remain still. She felt his hand between her legs, two fingers tunneling into her dripping vagina a little rough and urgent. Just the way she liked. “You are such a little slut puppy, aren’t you? I’ve never felt you so wet.” He clicked his tongue at her. “Naughty Chassy. Why are you pretending to be reluctant when you obviously want this ass fucking?”
He didn’t give her time to answer. Good thing, because she couldn’t have spoken to save her life. He was right. With lightning quickness, she’d gone from leery to lusty. Butterflies still beat frantically in her belly, not from dread of what was ahead, but from fear he might think she still protested and cease his thrilling actions.
His fingers dug in her liquid channel again, gathered the creamy moisture and slathered it into the crease of her ass and all over the puckered entry to her most secret place. One well-lubricated finger pressed into the tight orifice and she jumped, shocked at the pleasure pouring over her at the intrusion.
The finger retreated, surged back in. It hurt. And it didn’t.
His finger’s movement became her focus. In…hurting; out…wondrous delight. In…pushing against resisting tissue, and out…gliding along nerve rich membranes.
Her entire body registered what happened in that one place, became malleable, pliant. So the inward movement blended with the outward until the pleasure grew and swelled.
And stopped.
Dare’s lips nuzzling her lobe, his tongue swirling in her ear, his voice gruff and hoarse, whispering dark secrets as his hands soothed and petted, brought her down where she could think again.
She didn’t want to think, she wanted to feel.
“That was just my finger. Think about having me fuck your tight sweet ass with my long, thick cock.” He rubbed said cock against her, slid it up and down her crease and circled the broad head over her anus again and again.
She pushed back toward him, showing her willingness, her desire for him to take her last virginity.
A heavy groan sounded in her ear. A moment later, his hands were gripping her cheeks, prying them apart. He sank down, fit his cock to her pussy and took her from behind, burying himself to the hilt with one thrust.
His fingers plucked her nipples, tugged and pinched and rolled the aching tips until they throbbed and burned. His mouth was buried in her neck, sucking her flesh between his teeth, leaving his mark on her, in her. He pounded into her, his hips slamming against the cushion of her ass, his wiry pubic curls scraping the sensitive skin of her bottom.
Buried in her, he helped her sit up, her back to his chest. He showed her the rhythm he wanted her to maintain and set to work tormenting her clit. One hand worked lazy patterns on the heaving surface of her belly while the other tweaked and thumbed the stiff bit of flesh at the zenith of her thighs. Not content to pinch and pull on her clit, he stuffed two fingers in her pussy, alongside his pistoning cock.
The resultant pressure was too much. She screamed, bucked against his thighs, the pleasure so intense she thought her body would disintegrate under the onslaught.
He tipped her head back and took her mouth, his tongue forceful and insistent. She opened to him, his woman to command, demanding more from him even as she surrendered.
He gave her more than she sought, working his fingers in tandem with his cock, his thumb riding her clit, supplying a counterpoint to his thrusts…and his other hand rooting at her ass, a finger forging past her sphincter.
Bliss.
Ecstasy.
And at the climax…his words in her ear, his promise of things to come: “One finger is nothing, love. When I fuck your ass, you are going to melt. You are going to go nova from the explosions, I promise you. But I’m not going to take your sweet ass until our wedding night. I want you to be able to wear white at our ceremony, so we’ll keep at least one virginity intact.”
“Dare, please…!”
Chastity sighed, thinking about how she’d begged him to take her, to no avail. Liana had been right to warn her of the folly of passing up life’s greatest adventure, but she’d neglected to warn her about the stubbornness of men.
He’d fucked her numerous times last night, but he’d never satisfied her curiosity or satiated her longing for the salacious act. And now, her body hot and bothered by the memories of their lovemaking, she ached with the urge to turn the flitter around and hunt him down.
Gathering the slim skirts of her morning gown in one hand she hoisted a leg up on the seat and slipped her hand between her thighs. Fingers coasted over warm flesh. Muscles twitched and jumped beneath the surface as her body tensed,
anticipating the pleasure ahead. Her breath caught, stalled in her throat as her hand reached its destination and she twirled a finger in the tight curls covering her mons. She circled her clit, fingertips slipping in moisture as her copious flow coated her hand.
The sensations weren’t as strong or sweet as when Dare touched her, stroked her. She pinched her clit, hoping to ignite something more than frustration, but the feelings eluded her.
With a tortured groan, Chastity withdrew her hand and let her head drop back on the plush leather. Reaching for a hand full of tissues, she cleansed herself as well as she could. Finished, she tossed the sodden mass and smoothed her skirts down over legs.
Darian Acer was going to pay for making her immune to anyone but himself. When she returned home, she was going to fuck that man bowlegged.
Chapter Ten
“I am here to see Lady Lucynda, Duchess Pettibone.” Chastity handed her card to the cardboard cutout figure pretending to be the Pettibone’s butler.
The thin haughty man took the small rectangle between thumb and forefinger, holding it from his body as if he feared infection. “Please be seated, ma’am.” His nostrils flared and chin lifted as he indicated a backless retiring bench situated a few feet away. “I shall ascertain whether her Grace is at home.”
“…to you…” He might as well have added. His supercilious tone said he doubted the Duchess would deign to meet with someone the likes of her.
Chassy settled on the thin cushion with ill grace. Damn pretentious man. “You’d think he was the duke and not the servant with all the airs he put on,” she muttered half under her breath.
I’ll show him airs! She huffed. He’d best remember I am the daughter of a Duke, myself.
The butler returned quickly, his mouth drawn in a disapproving moue. Reluctantly polite, he intoned, “If milady will follow me…?”
Giving her his back—instead of offering her to go before him as he ought--he led the way down a long wide hall.
Chastity made an unladylike moue of her own as she trailed behind the butler. The loveliness of the duchess’ décor caught her attention and she quickly found herself drinking in the magnificent art work and furnishings.
Covered in pale ecru cream wallpaper that intersected with a furniture rail bisecting the upper and lower half of the walls, the wide corridor stretched for what seemed acres before her. The bottom half was covered in blond wainscoting. She recognized the pale paneling as stykewood, found only on the winter continent at the top of the world.
Her eyebrows shot up and she whistled soundlessly, impressed against her will. Stykewood wasn’t easy to come by. This corridor represented wealth on a scale unknown to most of Paradyse’s inhabitants. Until today, she’d been aware of only one person rich enough to afford to panel a hallway with the stuff: her father.
Why would Lady Lucynda, Duchess Pettibone summon me? What could possibly be behind her furtive comments? Why had she insisted time was of the essence?
Chassy sighed. She’d asked herself these questions over and over and had yet to come up with any reasonable answer. She hoped the duchess had good information or at least a lead on her father’s would-be killer, because she resented having to be away from Dare for even the short time this morning visit would take.
The butler halted before tall, double doors and gestured her to wait. Flinging the panels open, he stepped into the room and announced, “The lady Chastity Tilson to see you, Your Grace.”
As befitting a younger lady when introduced to an elder one who held a higher title, Chastity sank into a graceful curtsey. “Your Grace…”
“Well, it’s about time, young lady!”
Chastity’s head snapped up. Her eyes widened in shock. Glad tears blurred her vision. “Father!”
“Yes, father. Poor old father who has cooled his heels for over a week, waiting for his wayward daughter.” He held his arms out, a teasing smile wreathing his face.
Completely forgetting the presence of the duchess, she flew into her dad’s embrace, reduced to the little girl who had often sought comfort in her father’s lap. In his arms, the constant fear and dread she’d lived with since he’d been shot fell away. Only now did she realize how heavy the burden of wariness had weighed on her. Feeling light enough to fly, she laughed out loud, hugged her father and burrowed closer as reaction finally set in.
He patted her back; his tentative, awkward caresses so much a part of their relationship. Poor dad—he never knew what to do with her when she became emotional. She’d used his confusion to her advantage many a time.
With a last hiccup, Chassy leaned back and scanned her father’s face, searching for signs of lingering illness. His face glowed with health, his ruddy complexion offset by his dear familiar bushy eyebrows. He caught her watching and waggled them at her.
She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered a heartfelt prayer of thanks. Her brows lowered and she stepped back, hands shooting to her waist. “You want to tell me why Liana stopped sending me reports? And why you never wrote to tell me you were okay…and why did you hide here, instead of coming to Uncle David’s house?” She gasped, remembering something Liana had said. “Is he involved? Is that why you didn’t…?”
Her father laid a finger across her lips, shushing her. “No, David may be a scoundrel but he would never sully his hands by becoming involved in a murder. It wouldn’t be proper.”
He fished out his handkerchief and mopped up her tears. “There. Are you better, now?”
She nodded, blowing her nose vigorously. She held out her hand, playfully offering to return the sodden cloth. She knew his fastidiousness. With a wry chuckle, her father shook his head and backed away from the limp rag. “I think not, young lady!” He pointed at the used napkin. “That’s yours…at least until you have it laundered.”
They both laughed, recalling numerous such times in their shared past. Cedric sobered. “It is good to be reunited with you. I wouldn’t have believed how much and how soon I missed you, child.”
“I missed you, too, daddy.”
His face softened at the beloved term. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
She smiled, tears near the surface again. “I know.”
“I need your help, Chastity.”
“Anything, of course.”
“You’re not going to like your part, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean? What part?”
Cedric exchanged a cryptic glance with Lucynda before addressing Chassy. “I understand you’ve begun an affa--uh…an association with the younger Darian Acer.” A scowl twisted his face. “Not the sort of information a father wants to hear about his only daughter, by the way.”
Chassy’s face flamed, the heat sudden and intense. She hated blushing. It made her look guilty when she felt no such emotion. “To be precise, I offered him carte blanche. We have since decided to marry.”
Cedric grimaced. “You’ll be marrying, but the groom won’t be Dare-the-Devil Acer.” He said the name with a sneer in his voice.
Cold speared through her chest. Dread’s chilled fingers twisted her gut in knots. “Don’t blame Dare for this situation, father. I love him and he loves me. I hurt him dreadfully by offering him carte blanche when he planned to offer marriage. He refused me but I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I seduced him into making love to me. I can’t marry another, father, not even for you.”
“Nonsense m’dear. Most of Society doesn’t hold such antiquated ideas anymore. You’re the daughter of a Duke and the man I have in mind will gladly overlook your absent virginity. Talk to your uncle. Have him arrange the match.”
“No. Besides, I still have a virginity…of sorts.”
Her father’s entire face twitched as her meaning sank in. His mouth twisted. “Too much information, Chassy,” he wheezed, thumping his chest with a closed fist. “Have a care for my heart, young lady, and remember you’re talking to your father.” He sobered. “Have you forgotten I am trying to flush out a killer?”
>
She frowned in confusion. “How will my marrying some man advance your program?” She thought a moment. “You know who it is. You’ve always known.”
“Yes.” He glanced over at the rotund duchess again. “I am not at liberty to disclose the person’s identity…a prior promise constrains me.”
She followed his gaze and another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “Lady Lucynda has something to do with this. That’s why you came here.”
Cedric nodded. “She is in a unique position to assist us. Her involvement must remain secret.”
“No problem. But I’ve promised to marry Darian Acer and intend to honor that promise.”
“And so you shall. Your groom is none other than Lord Darian Acer, Earl of Chesley
The ringing in her ears drowned out her father’s voice. She heard nothing after the words, Earl of Chesley. Vertigo swept over her and she fumbled her way to a settee. Plopping down, she closed her eyes and concentrated on staying conscious.
“His father.” Angry tears flooded her eyes. Hatred for the man who’d abandoned his own son blazed within, the flames so hot their residue charred her vision, turned everything grey. “I loathe him,” she spat. “You have no idea the pain he’s put Dare through. He wasn’t even allowed to attend his own mother’s funeral! And this is the man you want to marry me off to…?”
“Earl Chesley is a Landing title. You couldn’t do better.”
She countered, a sneer curling her lip. “I can do a lot better! His title does not erase his past. The Earl of Chesley —your contemporary—is an old man, a mean, womanizing despot. He drove his son away and drove his wife insane with his infidelities.”
“You know, Cedric, Chastity’s right. I certainly wouldn’t want any daughter of mine tied to that monster.” Lucynda joined the conversation for the first time.
Chassy smiled at her, thankful for the support. Her father raised his hands in surrender. “All right, you two, I know when I’m beaten. You needn’t marry the man, but I need the ceremony to take place.” The two women opened their mouths to protest and he hurried on before they could get their angry words out. “…To almost take place. I promise I’ll stop the wedding before vows are exchanged if our culprit doesn’t show up.”
Carte Blanche Page 8