His Party Guest: Rakes of Mayfair Book Five

by Barron, Melinda

  “Don’t,” Alice said finally. Her gaze drifted down to the floor, and Clarissa could see she was frightened. “Don’t blame anyone. I’ve never had anything like that happen before.”

  They all stared at her, and Clarissa felt a pit grow in her stomach. “You mean it was real?”

  “Yes,” Alice said. “We didn’t get the information we wanted, but Taylor did make contact.”

  Clarissa felt as if this group of people was taking her for, what her father termed, a ‘ride into the abyss’.

  “I don’t believe it,” Clarissa said.

  “Belinda did.” Andrew took her hand and squeezed. “I watched her the whole time. The information about the pink dress? That was real. She was horrified that people were hearing that she doctored her dresses so they could be easily ripped from her body.”

  “How did you know about that?” Clarissa asked Alice. Although she’d spoken, Alice had not looked at anyone.

  “I didn’t.” Alice looked at her and sighed heavily. “This scares the daylights out of me. Julian sat down next to her and took her in his arms.

  “I’m taking her up to bed,” he said.

  “No.” Alice didn’t move from his arms, but she did look up at Clarissa. “What was he talking about? I mean about the other things that Belinda is supposed to return to you?”

  “I have no idea,” Clarissa said. “I know of nothing else that is missing, unless it’s something he took from my parents’ home while we were there. If he is the thief that we believe him to be there is a possibility that he took things from my parents’ home that I don’t know about. My mother never goes anywhere, so she doesn’t wear jewelry anymore. I will write her a letter and ask if anything is missing.”

  “Or perhaps Belinda will be so frightened she will return whatever it is without asking,” Andrew said. “I’m telling you, she was mortified.”

  “Barton is with her,” Essex said. “When it was over she ran to him, leaving behind the milksop she’d been cuddling up to all night long.”

  “The party is almost over,” Andrew said. “Since she brought the other jewels with her—”

  “To rub in my face,” Clarissa said.

  Andrew laughed softly and continued, “There is every chance she has whatever it is in her possession right now.”

  “Perhaps she will tell Barton,” Essex said. “We will find out in the morning. In the meantime, I think we should all go to bed, or go to the dancing with the others. It’s your choice. He glanced at Charlotte, who giggled.

  “I’m ready for dancing, my love,” she said.

  “There’s no stopping her, no matter what,” Alice said with a laugh. “I’m a bit tired and ready to retire for the evening.”

  Buxton squeezed her hand. “We will see you all in the morning.”

  The Ellingtons and Essexes decided it was time to go dancing. When they were gone, Andrew took Clarissa’s hand and squeezed it gently. “What would you like to do, Clarissa?”

  “I would like to go home and snuggle with my cat, in Bath,” she said. “But I suppose what I should do is go upstairs and write a few letters, one to my mother and one to my man of affairs about opening the London house.”

  “I will walk you to your door,” Andrew said.

  He offered his hand and she took it. When they were on their feet she kissed him on the lips, letting the touch linger for a few, long wonderful moments.

  “Propriety says you have to leave me at my door now, but I hope you will return, about one this morning,” she said.

  “Are you inviting me to your bed, Clarissa?” he asked. He stroked her cheek, and she shivered and leaned into his touch.

  “I’ve never done it before, so I’m not sure I’m doing it right,” she said. “Let me make it very clear. I would like to enforce the unwritten rule of house parties and ask a man to my bed—to make love to me.”

  “This man accepts,” he said. He kissed her lips, and then the tip of her nose. “I will see you at one on the nose.”

  * * *

  That night, Clarissa had the choice between two sleeping gowns, one white the other pink. She’d given the pink one to Sally and told her to keep it, that she never wanted to set eyes on it again. In fact, she wanted every piece of pink clothing in her wardrobe to be gathered up and given to charity.

  Now, she sat in the chair near the fireplace, counting down the seconds until Andrew appeared at her doorstep. She hadn’t been this excited since her wedding night, which in hindsight had turned out to be one of the worst nights of her life.

  But no one had known Taylor’s real motivations behind marrying her. She had heard nothing bad about him, not about the thieving anyway. How had he gotten away with it for so many years? There was a part of her that wanted to ask Alice if she would do a séance again, if that was what really happened tonight, so Clarissa could ask Taylor more questions.

  To do that, though, would be telling her, and everyone else, that she believed that Taylor had been speaking through Alice tonight. Things like that didn’t happen. When a person died they either went to heaven, or hell. Or so she’d been taught. She knew there were a few religions that believed a person was reincarnated. But if that happened they wouldn’t be able to come back and speak at a séance.

  She needed to ignore whatever superstition was nagging at the back of her mind. All that mattered was that Belinda had believed it, and if she had more items that belonged to Clarissa she would return them.

  The clock bonged one, and there was a soft knock at the door. Clarissa stood and smoothed down the skirt on her nightdress. She opened the door to find Andrew standing there, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.

  When he was in the room he put the items on a table and turned to her. He kissed her once, twice, three times and she melted into his arms.

  “I’ve never enjoyed kissing more than I do at this moment in time,” she said.

  “Once this night is over it will take second, or third place, behind lovemaking,” he said. “Or we don’t have to rank anything. We just enjoy it all.”

  This time his kiss was soft and gentle, and he trailed his lips up and down her neck. He broke away from her far too soon for her liking, and went to pour them both a glass of wine. He brought it to her and they clinked glasses. It was a soft, sweet wine that tickled just a bit going down her throat.

  “Delicious,” she said. She felt as if the world spun as they stared at each other. She took another sip, and then drained her glass and set it on the table.

  “Shall I undress?” Her voice shook as she talked. He placed his glass on the table next to hers and then gently placed his hands on her shoulders. He clasped the ribbon under her breasts and pulled it out of its bow, then he pushed the material down so that it dropped to the floor.

  Standing naked in front of him she felt an urge to cover herself. But she fought it. Instead she took a step back and said, “Can I help you undress?”

  “No, it will be faster if I do it myself.” She watched, and fought back a laugh, as his fingers fumbled with buttons and stays and he pushed clothing off his body. When he was naked, standing in front of her with an erect penis, Clarissa decided she would not be the frightened mouse who waited in bed for her husband as she did for Taylor. Maybe if she had taken a more active role he never would have strayed.

  To that effect, she reached out and grasped his hard cock, squeezing it gently since she really didn’t know how much pressure to apply so as not to hurt him.

  He groaned in appreciation and she tightened her grip. “I want you inside me,” she said.

  “Play with my prick too much more and you’ll cause things to move faster than we want,” he said, his voice deep with what she hoped was desire.

  She let go and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “No, Clarissa, don’t be sorry,” he said. “I love the feel of your skin on mine.”

  He led her to the bed and they tumbled down on it, their arms and legs entangling as they caressed and kissed.
Clarissa wasn’t exactly sure how it happened so quickly, but within moments he was inside her, pumping in and out as she gasped in pleasure.

  At his insistence she wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight as he worked above her. She felt the incredible urge that she’d had the other evening when he’d played with her bud, but it didn’t quite come to completion before he pumped faster and filled her with his seed.

  Unlike Taylor he didn’t leave her immediately. He stayed on top of her, holding her close as his chest heaved in exertion.

  “Forgive me for doing things so quickly,” he whispered in her ears. “Next time we will both feel pleasure, I promise you.”

  “I feel pleasure having you inside me,” she said.

  He put his hands on either side of her head and rose above her. “Not like the pleasure you will feel later tonight, I can promise you that.”

  * * *

  Clarissa wasn’t sure which one of them fell asleep first, but when Andrew gently caressed her shoulder to signal that he was awake, she snuggled against him. Neither of them made a move to initiate another sexual encounter, so she looked up at him, gathered all the courage that was in her body, and said, “Tell me about the ropes.”

  Her question pleased him; she could tell that by the soft chuckle that came out of his mouth. He didn’t move though, except to let his fingers trace gentle paths along her shoulder.

  “What would you like to know?” he asked. “It’s not an easy subject, truthfully.”

  Clarissa shifted her body so she could get a better look at his face. “Then start at the beginning. Tell me what made you take up the—hobby.”

  “I learned in Japan,” he said.

  “You’ve been to Japan?” she sat up, not caring that she was naked as the day she was born, and he could see every inch of her in the candlelight. “I’ve always thought traveling there would be fascinating.”

  “It was,” he said. “Shall I take you there?”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Clarissa ran her fingers over her hair. Sally had braided it in preparation for bed, and now she felt as if it were sticking out all over the place.

  “I will hold you to that,” she said. “But in the meantime, tell me about the ropes, and why they fascinate you.”

  “Well, we visited a brothel,” he said. “I’m sure that’s no surprise to you.”

  Clarissa laughed. “You had time with a geisha, then.”

  “Oh no, geisha are not ladies of the night,” he said. “They are entertainers, and are revered. But we did visit with prostitutes. At the house where they live they would put on performances that featured them tying each other up. My friend was not so impressed, but, well, it made me hard.”

  “Which friend? Barton?” He didn’t answer for a few moments, and she wondered if she’d brought up something that he didn’t want to remember. She was about to ask when he inhaled sharply.

  “It was a friend of mine named Jack Tarkley. I knew him from school. He was a good friend.”

  “Was?” she asked.

  “He passed away some time ago after an unfortunate incident.”

  She wanted to ask him about it, to learn more about his past. But something told her if she did they wouldn’t get back on the subject of the ropes, and that’s what she really wanted to learn about right now. He seemed to think the same thing because before she could prod him to continue he did just that.

  “One of the ladies noticed how excited the performance made me,” he said. “She took me aside and asked if I wanted to learn the art of bondage. I said yes. I went to their place every night. I learned how to use the rope to make beautiful art work.”

  “Are you saying using a woman’s body is art work?”

  “It’s not just done on women,” he said.

  Her heart did a double-tap. “Have you done this to men, too?”

  “No, I haven’t,” he said. “But I have seen it performed on the male sex. I much prefer the softer, more curvy form of a woman, as you know.”

  “Are they still soft and curvy after you’ve tied them up?” Clarissa wasn’t sure exactly how that could be. To her, the ropes would get in the way.

  “To me, the ropes make a woman even more beautiful,” he said. “It is, as I said, a work of art.”

  “Did you have sex with these women after you’d bound them?”

  “No,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, it did excite me, but I never had sex with the women I practiced bondage with; instead I found other women.”

  Clarissa laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

  “When I was doing bondage that’s what I wanted to center on,” he said. “I wanted to learn all the rules, all the tricks, all the ways to tie knots and how to do it safely so that no one was injured. I didn’t want to be distracted by sex.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” she said. “But you told me it aroused you.”

  “It does,” he said. “But I have to separate the two of them, the artistic value of the Japanese bondage, which I perform for people at Club meetings, and the bondage that I use on my sexual partners.”

  “What is the difference?” Clarissa asked.

  “Well, one involves sex and the other does not.” He snuggled down into the bed so that they were face to face. “I tie a woman to the bed, or tie her so that I might manipulate her body so I can, as you so beautifully say, take her.” He licked the end of her nose. “It’s quite exciting to fuck a woman when she can’t move. You can tease her, and arouse her, and then make her wait. You are in total control, and it brings great pleasure for the both of you.”

  Desire started to stir in her as she wondered what it would feel like to be tied up and then… taken. It might be intriguing.

  “It’s too bad you don’t have the material to practice the sexual one on me tonight,” she said. The smirk on his face told her that he would be able to find things he needed right in this room. Somehow that didn’t surprise her.

  “Not in the Stanhope’s home,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Why not?” He bounded off the bed so fast she worried that he would fall and break a bone. But he didn’t. He hurried to the pile of clothing. Even though the fire was dying she could see him rooting around in the pile. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but she was sure whatever he found was going to be wrapped around her wrists or her ankles, or both.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked as she shifted to get a better look. She was sore from their earlier efforts, and it made her smile. She wanted to have him inside her again, and again, and again.

  “Tell me why I should let you do this.” She couldn’t believe she was even considering this. Taking him to her bed was one thing, but letting him tie her up? That was something that no one had ever suggested to her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to give her body to him in that way.

  “I don’t think I can do it,” she said when he stood. He had things in his hands, but she couldn’t see exactly what they were.

  “Clarissa, you should know that I would never, ever, do anything to harm you,” he said. “All I’m going to do tonight is tie your wrists together. I want you to have a small taste of what it feels like.” He hadn’t moved toward her, and for that she was grateful.

  “Clarissa, if you don’t want this tell me now,” he said. “I will never force you to do anything.”

  She couldn’t tell by the tone of his voice what would happen if she said no. Would he leave her? Would this be their first—and last—night together? She didn’t want it to be. Being with him had been incredible. It had let her know how enjoyable sex could be.

  “Just my wrists?” she said.

  “Yes.” He held up the ribbon that had been laced through her nightdress and tied under her breasts. “It’s soft, and it won’t hurt. I will tie it loose enough so if you want to pull free you will be able.”

  That made it more amenable to her. But she was sti
ll a little worried about it.

  “Is this some sort of test?” She couldn’t help but ask the question.

  “No,” he said. He moved toward the bed, the ribbon dragging on the floor beside him. “It is something I enjoy, true. If things are to progress between us I would like you to enjoy it, too. But, as I said, it is not something I would force upon you. It’s your choice.”

  Clarissa held her hands out to him. “Then do it before I change my mind.”

  He pounced on her, and she let out a whimper, but then she laughed as he started to tickle her, running his hands over her body until she dissolved in laughter and worked to push him away from her. If he was trying to calm her down he was doing a good job. Her nerves had been on edge, but she was calmer now, and the longer he touched her the more she wanted to give herself to him and allow him to do whatever he wanted to her.

  She was on her back now, and he straddled her. He had the ribbon in his hands and he stretched it out so she could see it.

  “Clasp your hands together,” he ordered. She hated to admit that she rather liked the tone of his voice. When she’d done as he’d asked, he said, “Now, don’t hold your arms together, just leave them as they are with a bit of space between your wrists. That makes it so that I can wrap them together, and leave you room, as I said, to slip out of the ribbon if that is your wish.”

  Her nerves were back up again, and she felt as if she might lose the ability to breathe. “All right,” she managed to say.

  “Relax, my sweet,” he said. “If you don’t I’m not going to do it. I don’t want you to have a heart seizure while I’m inside you.”

  Clarissa giggled. “If I did it would be from the excitement of having your manhood in me.”

  He chuckled, and Clarissa bristled. “I’m sorry if you think my words are yours to laugh at.”

  “No, my sweet, that’s not what I meant,” he said. “You say manhood. I want to teach you to say prick. Dick. Cock.”

  “Can I learn to take the ribbon, and then work on my vocabulary?”