Claimed By Chaos

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Claimed By Chaos Page 13

by Abigail Graves


  He withdrew his hand and watched her stroking him before his eyes traveled upward and settled on her breasts. They bounced in time with her hand, her nipples rubbing against his chest. Giselle's attention was focused on her hand and his cock but he needed her lips. Alastair dipped his head.

  “Look at me.” He ordered. Her eyes were dazed and heavy when they reached his. His lips swooped and claimed hers. He kissed her ravenously as her hand continued to move upon him. Her arm slipped from around his neck and traveled down his body until she found his balls. Giselle cupped them gently and Alastair growled into her mouth.

  It was almost too much. Giselle was like a wave of sensations that continued to crash against him. She radiated heat and her scent swirled around her. Wherever their bodies touched, Alastair felt her silken skin gliding against his, spreading a warm prickling over him. Her breathy moans and sighs made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. The sight of her flushed and slick in his arms made his already over sensitized cock feel almost raw. He was too aroused, he was afraid his climax would be so intense it hurt. He wrapped his hands around her wrists, stilling her hands.

  “Just a moment.” Alastair shut his eyes and breathed through his mouth so he could have a reprieve from her scent. Giselle's hands remained firmly around him but still. He felt his nerves dull and relax as his heartbeat slowed. When he opened his eyes he found her watching him intently, waiting. Alastair nodded before he lowered his lips to hers.

  Giselle opened and her tongue met his as her hand began sliding up and down along his length, the other squeezed his sack gently. Pleasure radiated from her hands and shot through his body as the pressure within his balls and cock started to build. Alastair shut his eyes as he felt his body tighten. So many women had done this to him but it had never been this intense, never so vivid. He had never been so aware of the body in his arms or his own as he was with Giselle. Dear God. What will it feel like when I'm inside of her? Alastair wondered. The thought of his engorged and straining erection bathed in her juices, sliding in and out of her tight, hot womanhood pushed him over the edge. He began gasping, his chest heaved as his nerves tightened and then exploded. He threw his head back and clenched his jaw to keep from yelling as he felt heat flood his cock before his seed poured from it, shooting onto his stomach and spilling onto Giselle's hand as her strokes slowed.

  Once his head cleared he looked down at her. She was staring at her hand. Alastair watched breathlessly as she lifted it to her lips. He fought the urge to stop her, curious and certain she'd argue if he tried. Her tongue washed over her skin, leaving it clean. Her lashes fluttered and she smiled. She looked up at him and laughed softly.

  “It tastes soft and sweet and a little salty.” Giselle sounded surprised. Alastair felt his brows pull together.

  “What did you expect it to taste like?” Had she given it much thought? He wondered. She giggled and shrugged.

  “I don't know! But it seems so odd that something so mild could result from something so… strong and so urgent.” She explained. He supposed that made sense.

  Before he could start to feel strong and urgent again, Alastair lowered his head and found Giselle's lips as he gripped her waist and guided her back toward the pillows. He kept the kiss gentle, grateful as he lowered them to the mattress and pulled her against him. Relieved that his body didn't react uncomfortably as he rested her head on his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and waited as her body settled against him.

  Alastair tracked the relaxing of Giselle's muscles and the rhythm of her breaths until he was certain she was asleep. He slowly eased himself from under her and slid from the bed. He poured another scotch and settled to watch her sleep. He had hours until dawn but it didn't seem like enough time. His eyes clung to her soft curves and pearlescent skin. Her hair and eyelashes kept him enrapt and her lips made him weak. Every time Giselle shifted he leaned forward, fascinated anew and anticipating the way her limbs would settle and her hair would spread against the pillows.

  He thought she would move and feel like any other woman, that she would be a collection of the same parts. Alastair grinned sarcastically. She was made of nothing that ordinary women were made of. The way she moved destroyed his control, he could study her for years and she'd still defeat him. And she felt better than anything he had ever experienced. The textures of her body were irresistible, he couldn't stop his hands from touching her. The feel of her against his own skin was overwhelmingly perfect.

  When the sky began to lighten, Alastair was still enthralled and disappointed to have to part with Giselle. He picked up his shirt and helped her into it. He couldn't help but smile as he compared the groggy, uncooperative woman in his bed to the alert, restless woman he'd awakened in the coach a few days earlier. Once she was safely in her room, Alastair returned to dress and go for a ride. By the time he reached the stables, the muscles in his face hurt. He had never smiled so much in his life.

  Chapter 22

  The library was pleasantly warm and softly lit by the afternoon sun. The chair was comfortable and the house was peaceful. Mirabelle and Lucien were out with the horses and Giselle was floating about somewhere, exploring. Despite the conducive atmosphere, Alastair’s eyes kept flicking to the door, refusing to remain on the book in his hands. His mind was preoccupied with what had happened in his bed the night before. The memory of Giselle's hand wrapped around him was making it hard for him to sit comfortably.

  He was about to give up any pretense of reading, or self control, and find Giselle when Hendrick entered with a note on the salver.

  Alastair,

  I’m waiting in the barn.

  G.

  Alastair sighed despite the anticipation and tightening of his body. He hoped he could convince her to move their rendezvous to another location. Hay made his skin itch and once he started sneezing, it took hours for it to pass. And he could not abide the way it clung to everything, it would be all over his clothes and his person. The idea of finding it in his bedroom made him shudder.

  He paused just before he entered the barn and looked around to make sure no one saw him enter. Once inside, it was dark and cool. If it weren't for the way his nose was already twitching (and the mess), it would have been an ideal location. Alastair looked around and frowned as it appeared the barn was deserted.

  “Giselle?” He whispered as he waved his hand in front of his face. He was about to leave when he heard a movement above his head in the loft. He shook his head, not enjoying the idea of climbing the ladder and putting himself at face level with what he considered a minor hell. “Would you come down here, please?” He hissed as he looked up.

  Chapter 23

  Where in the world is Alastair? Giselle wondered as she shielded her eyes from the sun, scanning the stables and the track. She saw Lucien, leaning against a fence watching the horses fly past him but saw no sign of Alastair. She was sure he'd be in the library but it was empty. She was about to cross the yard to ask Lucien when she heard screaming from a barn on the other side of the stables.

  It was Alastair. Giselle felt a moment of panic as the sound of his pain and terror filled the air. She saw Lucien turn as she grabbed her skirts and ran toward the barn. Her eyes swept the yard and the small building, looking for anything she could grab as a weapon and counting doors and windows. Finding little that she could improvise with, she hoped there was a pitchfork or a scythe inside. Lucien met her at the opened door and they both rushed in.

  They froze, both in shock and unsure as to what they should do next as a figure that they could only assume was Alastair continued to scream hysterically. The height and width was that of Alastair's and it sounded like him but the rest of him was so obscured, it was impossible to be completely sure. Giselle could only blink as she looked to Lucien. He was no longer next to her. She turned to see him running across the yard, toward the house, so fast that she swore smoke was coming from his boots. She looked back at the scene inside the barn.

 
Mirabelle's head appeared from the loft above and she giggled.

  “What did you do?” Giselle gasped as she stared at Alastair.

  “I repaid him for all the fish he caught and helped place in my bed.” She announced.

  “Oh…” Giselle whispered as her eyes swept around the barn. A bucket hung from a rafter above Alastair and the remnants of a sticky substance dripped slowly onto his head. It appeared that half the hay in the loft had rained down upon him as well. She heard Alastair take a deep breath just before he sneezed violently, creating a cloud of hay.

  “I'm going to kill her.” Alastair growled. Mirabelle’s smile became wider.

  “A war! We haven't had a good one in years!” She laughed as she climbed down the ladder. She got about half way before she jumped and turned to face them. Giselle heard Alastair curse before he stormed out of the barn. She smiled weakly at Mirabelle before she dashed after him.

  Instead of heading straight for the house as Giselle expected, Alastair was storming toward the forest. She had to jog to catch up with his longer stride. Even if she hadn't been able to, he was leaving a trail of hay in his wake. And even if he had managed to make it to the forest without shedding hay, all she would have had to do was follow the sound of his sneezes. Giselle could think of nothing helpful to say and was terrified she'd start laughing if she wasn't careful.

  “What happened? I mean, aside from this.” She gestured toward him wildly. He snorted.

  “I received a message directing me to the barn and she ambushed me.” He shook his head in disbelief. Giselle stopped for a moment, confused.

  “Mirabelle summoned you to the barn and you just went?” She couldn't believe he'd make such a mistake. He laughed as they entered a clearing. Giselle saw light shimmering and realized it was water.

  “No. It appeared to be from you, that you were waiting for me in the barn.” He stated as he marched toward the lake. “I let my cock lead me straight into her trap.”

  “Oh, my.” Giselle said softly as she watched Alastair walk straight into the water until it was up to his waist. He ducked and disappeared beneath the surface. She waited for several moments before he came up for air. Silently, she admired how far he'd gone on one breath and was relieved to see that much of the hay had washed away. He gasped before disappearing again. When Alastair reappeared, he was close to the shore. He stood and shook his head, flinging water in an ark around him before he trudged out of the lake.

  Giselle had to take a steadying breath as he approached. His clothing clung to his lean, muscled form and she felt lightheaded. Alastair ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back as he walked past her. She felt her body sway as desire swirled within her. He looked so sleek, yet wild. She shook her wits into place and took off after him.

  “What are you going to do?” Giselle asked as she stared at his rigid expression.

  “Not a damned thing. Clearly, my sister is a savage.” He muttered. She couldn't help but smile.

  “Well… To be fair, it must have been very unpleasant for her to discover her bed full of dead fish.” Giselle offered, hoping to reason with him. He stopped and turned toward her.

  “Are you taking her side?” He asked incredulously. She shook her head vigorously.

  “Of course not!” She swayed toward him again. He was still furious and for some reason, she found the energy and tension that poured from him extremely arousing. Giselle licked her lips and tilted her head as she closed the distance between them. Alastair frowned as he lowered his head and let her lips brush his. He gave her only a moment before he straightened and stepped away.

  “I'm quite miserable. I need a hot bath, soap and dry clothes.” He turned and continued back to the house.

  Once inside, Giselle followed Alastair up the stairs and down the hall. He stopped outside of his door.

  “You’re not coming in.” He said as he turned to her. She tried pouting but he shook his head. “Far too many people would notice and I intend to soak in peace until the water turns cold while I imagine Mirabelle covered in boils or attacked by bees.” As soon as he said it, he doubled over and sneezed several times. The door across from Alastair’s opened and Lucien's head popped out. He peeked down the hall in both directions before he stepped out.

  “Are you alright?” He whispered as he kept his eyes turned toward the stairs. Giselle couldn't help but smile. Alastair narrowed his eyes at Lucien.

  “I'll recover, I'm sure. No thanks to you, coward.” He hissed. Lucien grimaced.

  “It was already done and there was nothing I could do to help. I did order you a bath though!” He smiled weakly. Alastair rolled his eyes.

  “That makes up for everything.” He turned and opened his door. “I'll see the two of you before dinner.” He shut the door and left them both to stare at each other. Giselle bit her lip then looked around the hall awkwardly. Lucien groaned.

  “I'm in terrible trouble, aren't I?” He said softly. She nodded and looked at him with pity.

  “It does look like it.” She replied as she patted him on the arm. He shrugged and flashed a charming smile.

  “Perhaps I can change her mind, if I apologize enough and beg for mercy. I can be quite convincing.” Lucien said as he looked in the direction of the ducal chambers. Giselle pursed her lips for a moment.

  “Good luck with that.” She smiled reassuringly before she left him alone to ponder his fate. She heard him curse as she opened the door to her room.

  Chapter 24

  “How long do you intend to keep her in hiding, Cambroke?” Lady Gasden asked as Gilles crossed the room. He turned and leaned against the mantle of the fireplace. Of the numerous callers they’d entertained at Spencer Place the last two days, she was the only one that concerned him. Lady Gasden had been a close family friend and was a shrewd old dragon. She also carried a lot of weight within the ton. She would not be pacified with vague excuses.

  “I assure you, I’m not hiding Lady St. Claire. She’s visiting my sister at Winthorpe. They have been friends for many years.” He kept his expression bland as his eyes monitored The Mothers and Elise. The appeared relaxed and nodded in agreement. Lady Gasden glared.

  “The ton has been speculating for decades, no one has ever seen the child and all this time, the Spencers and Havilands have been in contact with her? Balderdash!” She declared. Gilles shrugged casually.

  “Lady St. Claire is a very private person. We have only honored her wishes.” He waited as her eyes narrowed.

  “Where has she been all this time?” She demanded. Gilles crossed his arms and stared at her.

  “Does it really matter, Lady Gasden?” He smiled as she gasped. “You and everyone else will receive her just as happily whether she’s been in Scotland or Wales or on Mount Olympus. She could have spent her entire life hopping all over Britain and The Continent. There isn't a country between here and Russia that she doesn’t have relations in.” He dared her to contradict him. She sighed.

  “True. I just don’t understand why it’s such a secret.” Lady Gasden complained. Gilles rested his arm on the mantle and smiled.

  “Don’t you?” He asked. “One of her cousins just gained the throne of France and she has family in conflict all over Europe. I wouldn't want to have to answer prying political questions everywhere I went.” He examined his nails as he waited.

  “What is your connection with her?” She asked accusatively. Gilles leveled his most sincere gaze at her.

  “Her father is a very close friend of mine, I consider her a sister.” Lady Gasden’s eyes narrowed before she started cackling.

  “I believe you. And do you know what else?” Her voice lowered and Gilles raised a brow. “I know what Aldous St. Claire was. I never believed for a minute that you were in India, Gilles.” She sat back as she watched him. Gilles remained perfectly still, calm. He willed Elise and The Mothers to appear unaffected. After a moment he crossed the room and took the seat opposite hers and reclined.
He wanted to keep her focus on him.

  “As I said, we consider Lady St. Claire a member of our family. She is very protective of her privacy and we will continue to do what we can to shield her. If you wish to gain her acquaintance, I would encourage you to be mindful of that.” He tried to keep the statement from sounding like a threat. Lady Gasden’s mouth fell open and her eyes clouded.

  “Aldous is dead, isn’t he?” She whispered. Gilles held her gaze and gave nothing away. She frowned as she nodded her head. “He is and I think you’ve been helping that girl hide for years.”

  “We have always helped her in any way she required.” He said softly. Lady Gasden looked around the room and The Mothers met her gaze directly and nodded in agreement. Elise smiled serenely as she lifted her teacup to her lips. Lady Gasden swung back to Gilles.

  “She must be one and twenty? Two and twenty?” She asked.

  “She is two and twenty.” He supplied.

  “Why appear now?” She waited expectantly. Gilles crossed his legs casually and shrugged. She smiled deviously. “Do you know, I am probably the only one among the ton that’s noticed that Alastair has been missing.” He let his eyes flick to maman and she waited until Lady Gasden looked in her direction to smile. Gilles sighed.

  “Alastair has been busy.” He allowed a hint of a smile and her eyes lit up.

  “That sly fellow!” She started to wheeze. “All these years he’s let everyone think he wasn’t eligible while he’s been waiting for her. That’s what this is, isn’t it? The two of them have an understanding and she’s coming to Town so that it can be announced.” Lady Gasden looked from face to face but everyone remained casual, sipping their tea and smiling placidly.

 

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