A Measured Risk

by Natasha Blackthorne

  Her nipples beaded harder, hungering to feel his touch, and the ache between her legs intensified. She bit her lip and swallowed a moan. The effort quivered through her body.

  He paused with his fingers on a button. “You knew I would want this, when you left off your necklace.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Are you tired? Do you want to sleep? Would you rather I left?”

  Yes—she should plead tiredness so he would leave. However, it would be a lie. She was so overwrought that she’d never be able to sleep. Her gaze lingered on the lines of his hard face, then moved lower over his large-boned, leanly muscled body, shown to elegant perfection in his black evening clothes. She swallowed hard.

  “What happens if you stay?” She asked the question more to borrow time than anything, as her heart pounded against her rib cage with indecision.

  He moved behind her and splayed his hand on her stomach. The unmistakable, heated bulge of his erection pressed against her arse. “I shall begin to instruct you.”

  At the words “instruct you” her internal muscles clenched and her nub pulsed, growing more erect. He moved his hand in slow, sensual circles, inching downwards. With difficulty, she forced herself to focus on what he’d just said.

  What was there to be instructed in, except how to lie there? Against her better judgement, her curiosity was roused. “Instruct me?”

  “Yes, I shall instruct you in how to please me.” His breath was warm against her ear. “And I anticipate you will be a very apt pupil.”

  There. He’d done it again—melted all her will with mere words. Desire—to do what he wanted, whatever he wanted—burned through her blood like a fever.

  Oh, dear God, give me strength.

  “You’re nervous. Don’t you want to show me your lovely body?” He reached around and he slipped several more buttons loose.

  “I suppose…”

  He slipped another button undone. “Shall I leave or stay, Nan?”

  “St—” She bit her words off as apprehension froze her tongue.

  “What was that, love?” He bit at the side of her neck and hot chills raced down over her breasts, tightening their tips even further.

  Why must he insist she say it? It was hard enough to admit to herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please stay, Jon.”

  He slipped the last buttons undone and muslin and lace pooled at her feet.

  She moved to cross her arms over her breasts and he captured her wrists in one hand and fitted his other into her the curve of her waist. “Stand and let me admire that which is mine.”

  It was ridiculous the way her insides flipped over at his words, just as it was ridiculous that he must talk about every single detail and demand that she do the same. William had simply done what he pleased.

  “Remember to keep your eyes cast down whenever I am inspecting you or instructing you.”

  She glanced down.

  “That’s a good girl. If you respond like that every time, I won’t need to punish you. I’ll do whatever is needed to help you submit to me, however, I’d rather have your willing obedience than anything else.”

  An odd warmth tugged at her heart—a desire to give him what he wanted.

  Ruel released her hands, gliding his fingers over the soft, round curve of her hip. Her hands fell to her sides and she stood there, her breasts rising and falling more rapidly than before.

  “Turn,” he ordered.

  She startled. Her backside was definitely not her best feature. Nor were her thighs which Mama had said were far too full for current fashions. To have someone stare at her uncovered and to do so overtly was disconcerting. Part of her wanted to argue but another part of her wanted to do what he asked.

  “Turn for my pleasure—show me your gorgeous arse.”

  Wetness gushed between her legs like never before in her life. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze.

  “Go on now,” he said, touching her shoulder and giving her a gentle push. She found herself going totally passive as he rotated her. She liked being handled this way, as if she were his to command.

  As he continued to turn her, he backed away a little. She dared to peek through her lashes. God, he was staring at her so intently. She’d never been so exposed in her life, or felt so vulnerable. His eyes on her felt almost like a physical touch, making her tingle all over with a delicious mixture of apprehension and anticipation. His gaze moved slowly lower and her internal muscles contracted fiercely.

  “You may look at me now, Nan.”

  What was he thinking? She shifted from foot to foot as he worked his gaze slowly back up to hers, brilliant blue and as warm as the sun.

  “You are first-rate, love. Something very rare.” His voice was deep, husky. It sent a warm curl of pleasure straight to her toes.

  He took hold of her upper arms and turned her towards her bed. “Go and kneel for me by your bed. Take the position you did here at the door.”

  She walked towards the bed, her legs going so weak that she could barely use them. She dropped to her knees and clasped her hands behind her back.

  He sat on the bed and pulled her between his powerful thighs. “Legs apart.”

  “What?” Her most private parts would be totally open to his view. He couldn’t possibly expect that. He would know how wet their exchange had made her.

  He took her knees and urged her legs apart. His blue gaze held hers and she was powerless to resist. Her legs came open and his gaze dropped. A burning flush spread over her face.

  “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than I anticipated, love.” His voice caressed her and her sense of embarrassment turned into a delicious sort of vulnerability. She shook all over, not from fear but from excitement. In fact, she shook so much it was hard to hold the position. He touched her shoulders, holding her up. “Are you scared?”

  “No.” She barely choked the word out. Her tremors became so violent that he was the only thing holding her up.

  “Cold?”

  She shook her head. Lord, it was so discomfiting to be so visibly affected—especially when he remained so calm and in control.

  “You’re doing fine,” he said. He was looking at her breasts.

  Under his regard, the tips hardened into painful points. With wetness flowing between her wide-spread legs and her body trembling and the lush scent of her arousal on the air there was no hiding her feelings from him. But this felt right. And she felt…beautiful, desirable.

  He traced his fingertip around one nipple, then the other. Unbearable sensation stabbed though her. He bent, his ash blond head shining in the candlelight. Warm velvet wetness circled her nipple for several moments, then he suckled on her. Delight stabbed her. She moaned, then clamped her mouth closed.

  He lifted his head, his eyes hooded with desire. “Don’t. Don’t suppress yourself.” He cupped both her breasts, squeezing them with gentle but steady pressure. “Did you come for Cranfield?”

  “Oh, goodness, must we discuss this?”

  “Yes—I need to know how experienced you are.”

  “Once… Well, I mean, I almost…”

  “Almost doesn’t count, love.”

  “I don’t think it was his fault… I think that it was because I was too…too…”

  He chuckled softly. “Too damn wilful?”

  “I suppose.”

  “It won’t be that way with me. I won’t allow it.”

  The absolute way he said that made her belly turn over. She chose not to comment. No matter how much she wanted to be open to him, she’d kept herself closed off from others for so long that she doubted she could change her ways. “Nan, you protect yourself too much and in the wrong ways.” He took her hand, drew it to his lap. His erection throbbed beneath her touch. As if of its own accord, her hand attempted, unsuccessfully, to grip him through his velveteen trousers. He pressed her grip tighter. “Did you ever touch Cranfield like this?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ever watch hi
m come and see his seed surge?”

  Anne shook her head vigorously, stunned to hear such a thing even put into words.

  “Dare I ask, did you even see his cock?”

  “No,” she breathed.

  His dark brown brows rose. “Did you want to? Weren’t you curious?”

  Yes, she had been. Quite breathlessly so at the time. But she’d been so painfully reserved on their wedding trip, both in the marriage bed and outside it. William’s sudden cooling towards her hadn’t helped. Then he’d met a little serving wench at one of the inns and slipped. After that, everything had fallen apart and she’d discovered that her charming, kind husband slipped quite often. Because she could never give what others wanted from her. Because she was cold and flawed. Just like the duke.

  “It didn’t matter,” she said.

  “Lying to yourself, concealing your feelings, denying your desires—even when it comes to demanding what is your proper due. This is the only way you feel you have any power with other people, isn’t it? Then you suffer in silence, needlessly. This is what I mean by protecting yourself in the wrong way.”

  A hard coldness formed in her stomach. He did not know her. He did not. No one could know her. She kept herself hidden from their prying eyes. No one had the right to delve into her secret self. Her excitement ebbed and she became painfully aware of the indignity of her position, kneeling in the circle of his legs. Totally naked while he was almost completely dressed. She drew her knees together tightly, raised her eyes to his and raised her chin. “I do not want to speak of this.”

  “We shall discuss whatever I decide we ought. I see how you hold others at a distance and I will tolerate no walls between us.” He pushed his hands up along the insides of her thighs. She resisted, holding her legs so tightly together that she had to grit her teeth. He easily forced them apart the slightest bit, enough to admit his hands to the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

  God, he was so damned strong.

  He ran his thumbs over the crease where her legs joined to her pelvis. Her internal muscles clenched and she released a thready little breath.

  “Open your legs, Nan, all the way.”

  His voice was persuasive velvet. But with her rational side finally in control, she didn’t feel like putting herself on display for him. She held her legs as closed as his large hands allowed.

  He forced her legs apart further and applied several quick, sharp slaps to her inner thighs. She gasped and looked up at him with her mouth open. “Hey!”

  He gave her a stern look. “Unless I say otherwise, you must always keep them open when you kneel for me. You will not close yourself off to me Nan, not in any way.”

  “So I don’t have a choice?”

  “If you really and truly wish me to cease anything, then say “sapphire” and I shall stop right away, whatever it is, so long as it is safe to do so.”

  “And if I say it right now?”

  “I shall leave and let you have your rest. Tomorrow we shall talk about what has distressed you so much. It’s not something to use lightly, Nan.” He paused for a few moments. “Do you wish to use it now?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to speak the word and, to her shame, she knew it had nothing to do with wanting him to teach her anything about bravery and overcoming fears. It had everything to do with the wetness slicking down her thighs. Her thoughts were freezing up on her again. In a panicked attempt to regain logical control, she asked, “Why pick such a term? Sapphire.”

  “Because when I look into your eyes, all I can think of is luscious, shimmering, dark-as-midnight blue velvet.” He resumed caressing her, letting his thumbs graze along her outer lips. “It’s clearly your word. And so it shall be between us.”

  She couldn’t help the sudden, desperate jerking of her hips. The teasing brushing irritated her. Oh, God, she wanted his whole hand on her. Pressing her, stroking her. Now.

  He seemed in no hurry, patiently tracing her. He stroked her nub so lightly that she didn’t realise it until the next stroke came…and the next one and the next one. The sensations came on like waves, reverberations of longing, coming faster and faster now. The edge of the sweet abyss was within sight. The urge to clasp herself to him, to feel his hard-muscled shoulders beneath her hands, rose strong in her. She balled her hands, digging her nails into her palms. And she clamped her jaw to stop herself from crying out her need. All the while, the pleasurable tension in her rose. The first foreshocks shuddered through her core. How foolish to have feared this. She was still in control. She could easily take this pleasure and give him nothing of her deeper self. The realisation was a revelation.

  Then he stopped.

  Oh, God, he has stopped.

  Chapter Nine

  Anne sat there, panting in disbelief while all the tension within her changed to a dull ache. She opened her eyes.

  Jon was watching her with a closed expression.

  She hated the very sight of him.

  Yet she had to fight with every ounce of her will not to throw herself at him and beg him to continue. To take her to the bed and press her down with his body.

  “I warned you I wouldn’t tolerate you closing yourself off to me.” His voice was cold, implacable and to her bewilderment, it filled her with an uncontrollable lust. She grew more frantic by the moment—frantic to do anything to re-enter his good graces.

  Her thinking mind screamed in protest as she dropped her forehead to his thigh, an instinctive gesture of supplication. “I am sorry, Jon.”

  A part of her vital internal being was ripped from her with the words. She hated to apologise to anyone and she’d done so twice tonight.

  Twice.

  If that wasn’t the best reason to hate him, she’d never have one. However, her desire knew no shame or pride. “You said you would teach me to…to please you.”

  “Are you just going to close me out again?”

  His words, gently spoken, cut into her like glass shards. Tears seeped from her eyes, wetting his velveteen trousers under her face. Her chest went tight and felt ready to burst with the need to do anything he wanted—to be what he wanted.

  He would reject her. Just like everyone else.

  “I’ll try not to close you out.” She bit her lip. “But I-I don’t know what’s possible for me. I tried so hard with…” Her voice broke. “Before.”

  An eternity seemed to pass. Then he lifted her off his lap. “Resume your position, Nan.”

  She grasped his hand and brought it to her lips.

  She pressed fervent kisses on his flesh, the pale, fine hairs on the back of his hand tickling her. She was sobbing, her tears were flowing like a river now. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was gaining a second chance to please him.

  Jon watched Anne’s display, frozen momentarily by awe. Christ, she really was naturally submissive—far more so than he’d guessed. His erection pulsed, straining against his trousers. Oh, the pleasures they would share once he’d earned her full trust. And he hadn’t earned it yet. He didn’t fool himself. She was merely aroused to a peak and confused by feelings she’d never faced before.

  Not to mention that she was starved for meaningful sexual release.

  He pulled his watch out and glanced at the time. About an hour until dawn. An hour for him to make such an impression on her that she would crave his dominance. Crave it enough that it would keep her from running away from him once she came to her senses after this night. But first things first. His cock throbbed as if it were about ready to burst. If he was to focus on her with any sort of clarity now, after this stunning performance, he would need release.

  He withdrew his hand and grasped her shoulders. “Lean back, Anne, on your knees”

  He unbuttoned his trousers, then pulled his cock out. He took her hand and wrapped it tightly about it. His cock jerked in her grasp. He felt her start and her hand went slack. He put his hand back over hers and held it there firmly.

  “Don’t let go,” he said, hoarsely.
He moved her hand, demonstrated how the skin on the shaft beneath her hand glided up and down easily. He loosened his hold and she repeated the motion. Pleasure washed over him and he gritted his teeth.

  “That’s it, firm and fast.” He removed his hand from hers. She stroked him tentatively. Her feather-soft stroke maddened him. “Harder, love.”

  She took hold of him and stroked firmly, three times in quick succession. He caught his breath, the sound a sharp, inward hiss. She dropped his cock, her eyes huge and uncertain.

  He laughed, low and husky. “You’re so skittish, love.” He took her hand and wrapped it about his throbbing length again. “Stroke me hard and fast, and I don’t care if the whole fucking manor is on fire, don’t you dare let go.”

  Her body shook again, the little sensualist. He reached behind her, grasped her lovely, enticing mass of glossy black ringlets. Moaning, she writhed within the circle of his legs, her full, heavy breasts bouncing, her thighs clamped tightly together. The sensation and sight was about to drive him insane and his balls drew up tight.

  “Christ, you excite me, Nan” he growled, fishing in his pocket for his handkerchief and spreading it over his lap. He grasped her hand and increased the speed and pressure. “Open your eyes, love.”

  She complied instantly. Her eyes looked almost black with passion. “Watch my cock.”

  She dropped her gaze to his lap. He inhaled sharply and dropped his hand away from hers as the wild surging took over. His seed erupted in violent jets of pure pleasure, landing on her hand, her arm and the handkerchief. Everywhere. It left him gasping for breath.

  It had been fucking fantastic. And he hadn’t even been anywhere near her mouth or her cunt.

  He cupped her face, tipping it up and kissing her deeply until she struggled for breath. He stroked his hand down over her silken back, down to her arse. He laid several healthy smacks on her plump, round buttocks.

  She startled and looked up at him.

  “Good girl—my beautiful little good girl.” He wiped her free of his seed. “Off your knees, love.” He stood and held his hands out. She took them and allowed him to help her up. “Lie in the centre of the bed.”