Tutoring Miss Molly

by Armstrong, Lyn

  “I...I am sorry. I did not want to disturb you.” Her eyes darted around his broad shoulders to see if Audrey was inside. “I wanted to inquire about your wound.”

  Devlin glanced down at his bandaged arm. “It only aches a little,” his voice took on another tone, “I have another ache that pains me more.” His approving eyes traveled down the length of her riding habit.

  A heated current raced through her blood. Every inch of her wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she resisted.

  A door slammed down the hallway, and Molly jolted. They both glanced in its direction. Had someone been watching them? Devlin pulled her into his chamber and she entered without hesitation. Her feet would take her anywhere he commanded, he had only to ask. The realization was elating and aggravating at the same time.

  Why does this man have such a hold over me?

  Devlin led her to a wide velvet couch beneath one of his windows. She sat primly and glanced around his spacious room. Furnished with two cherry-mahogany wardrobes, the family crest of a black wolf with two swords crossed through hung above the bed. Her gaze wandered to the messy bed he must have been lying in. The wrought iron bed was bigger than any she had ever seen.

  “Do you like my chamber?”

  “Yes, it is very …” She paused and glanced around.

  “Masculine?” Devlin finished her sentence when he sat next to her, his legs touching hers.

  “Yes,” she breathed, her hands shaking. His nearness affected her mind and body. He smelled of soap with a unique spicy scent. His bronze hair fell over his high brow, shaping gray eyes of confident knowledge. Was it any wonder women could not keep their hands off him? Devlin affected every feminine sense with a powerful force of sexual tension. Her complete body filled with wanting. Wanting this man to kiss her, touch her, make love to her.

  A perceptive smile dimpled his cheek, and he picked up her hand, kissing each finger with tenderness. “Let us continue our lesson.”

  “But your wound—”

  “Will be fine.”

  Drawing her closer, he leaned in for a kiss, then pulled away, teasing her. He lightly ran his finger along the edge of her jacket, skimming the heated skin above her breasts.

  What was holding him back? Did she have bad breath? Surreptitiously, Molly tried to blow air from the side of her mouth to smell her breath.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

  “Nothing.”

  He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear and her insides melted.

  “Are we…oh…going to talk about the archer?” she asked. Leaning closer to him, she wished her clothes were off so he had better access to her breasts.

  “Not at the moment.” He kissed her lower, along the rim of her neckline. Dipping his finger beneath the material, he gently grazed her hardened nipple.

  “But someone tried to kill you.”

  “And I will deal with it later,” he muttered against her skin and cupped her breast.

  He broke their embrace and shifted off the seat to sit in front of her on the floor. Lifting the skirt of her riding habit, he sucked in his breath and stared at her bare thighs.

  “No petticoats and stockings. This pleases me,” he said in a husky voice rich with approval. Gliding his warm hand up her legs, he parted them to dip his finger between her moist folds. “I like that you are always ready for me.”

  A sense of urgency drove her and she opened her legs wider. Noting how hungrily he watched her gesture.

  “That’s better,” he said in a voice smoother than silk. His fingers worked the juices up and down her slit.

  She collapsed against the chair in complete surrender. Her insides trembled with uncontrollable passion. Devoid of all shame, she was becoming increasingly obsessed as Devlin’s submissive sex slave. Every time he asked her to do something, a wicked tremor seared her skin.

  “Undo your jacket. I want to see your beautiful breasts before I feast upon you.”

  Without a thought, she unhooked the braids of her jacket and lifted her riding habit and muslin stays. Her round, heavy breasts spilled out.

  Devlin nibbled upon her thighs then commanded, “Caress them, Molly. Feel how magnificent they are in your hands.”

  Taking the pink-tipped breasts in her hands, she fondled them, entranced by his silent gaze. Feeling uninhibited, she pushed one of them up to her mouth, and with a flick of her tongue, she licked the taunt nipple.

  “My God, woman, you are magnificent.” Shrugging out of his shirt as if it were on fire, he placed his hands on her inner thighs and dipped his head low. A warm, moist tongue traveled up her cleft in one long lick.

  Quivering, Molly moaned. Her body thrummed to the swift movement of his soft and determined tongue. Her muscles became languid with every rapid breath she took. Tipping her hips toward him, a finger slid inside her, his mouth sucking on her swollen clit.

  The sensation was too much to bear, hurtling her to a position of no return. She entwined her fingers in Devlin’s hair and screamed, her body bucking against his face.

  When her body finally cooled, she pushed him back to lie on the floor. His shocked expression turned to excitement when she straddled his hips, rubbing her juices over his breeches. His straining shaft pressed against her with only linen material separating them from joining. Unashamedly, she wanted him inside her—to fulfill her desires to completion.

  Shifting down his legs, she undid his breeches, releasing his engorged flesh from the confines. Taking his glorious erection in both hands, she rubbed it up and down, studying his face tightening with restraint. A heady sense of power enlivened her spirit. Cupping his two globes, she lowered her mouth to the tip of his manhood and flicked it with her tongue.

  Devlin closed his eyes. “Good Lord.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” she asked innocently, knowing his answer.

  “No!”

  Smiling, she lowered her head and took most of his length into her mouth, sucking and gliding her tongue around his shaft. She must remember to thank Yvette for her instructions next time they speak. Dipping her head, Molly enjoyed sucking and licking Devlin, his groans of pleasure aroused her to a different level of excitement.

  “If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to,” Devlin gritted through his teeth, a sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

  Molly climbed up his body, placing kisses over his flat torso and firm chest. Tasting his salty sweat on her lips, she straddled his hips again, this time with his rigid staff nestled between her thighs.

  Devlin grabbed her hips, avoiding her moist sheath.

  “Why do you resist me?” she asked.

  “I do not know,” Devlin said breathlessly. “I do not want you to be like all the others.”

  “I am not like the others. I never will be,” she added. “Please, I am ready to have you as my first.”

  Reaching down between her thighs, she placed the tip of his member on the outside of her entrance. “I want you,” she whispered into his ear.

  He looked torn within, his heavy breathing erratic. “And I need you.”

  Grabbing both sides of her face, he pulled her down and claimed her mouth, mindlessly, savagely. His tongue swirled with hers, joining them together in a hunger that seared with flames of passion.

  Without restraint, Molly eased herself down onto him, adjusting to his size. Completely in control, she pushed hard down onto his shaft, breaking her maidenhead. A sharp pain jolted through her and she stopped.

  “Are you all right, love?” Devlin asked.

  Nodding, she opened her eyes. “Just give me a moment.”

  Devlin wrapped his arms around her, raining tender kisses over her heated face and neck. “You are doing fine,” he reassured. “I promise the pain will pass.”

  He nibbled on her earlobe, sending tingling sensations to her stomach. Pleasure welled between her thighs again and she fought for air. “You feel really good inside.”

  Slowly her hips moved in
a delicious rhythm, gaining speed along with her laborious breathing. Nothing else seemed to matter in the world, nothing but primitive instinct. With a shattering intensity, she tightened deep inside, roughly grinding her hips against him.

  “That’s it, Molly.” He roared, “You are mine.”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Only…yours.”

  Abandoning herself to pleasure, she arched in response. Wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through her, sending her to a world of bliss.

  Devlin’s face tightened and he groaned, his fingers digging into her waist as he lunged upwards, spilling his passion inside her in a glorious release.

  Molly collapsed on top of him, their bodies slippery with perspiration. Gathering her into his arms, he rose and placed her on the bed. In silence, he poured a jug of water into a basin, wet a cloth and returned to the bed. With gentle hands, he wiped her maiden-blood from her inner thighs. He glanced up at her face while she watched him.

  “You are breathtaking,” he whispered.

  Lying down beside her, he pulled the soft covers over them and gathered her into his embrace. Fitting so perfectly into his arms, a tender glow warmed her stomach. For the first time, she felt the sense of belonging, cherished. A stray tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. She must try to resist her heart. Devlin was a marquess and he was betrothed to another. They had no future together. Her aunt warned her about falling in love. If she were to be a courtesan, she should force herself to rise and walk away.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  A muffled voice came from outside, “I have your supper, my lord.”

  “Who is it?” Molly shrunk further beneath the furs to hide her nakedness.

  “It is Zachariah, my valet,” he answered and then raised his voice, “leave the tray outside.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Oh and Zachariah, you and Yvette may take the rest of the evening off. Miss Molly and I will be staying here until the morning.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Devlin turned his boyish good looks to her. “Are you hungry?”

  She shifted uneasily under the covers. “I should go.”

  “Why?”

  Molly swallowed and shifted her hair off her face. “I don’t think we should—”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Well, yes. But—”

  “Then have something to eat. If you want to leave afterwards, then by all means you may.” He leaned over and kissed her nose. “But I will certainly try to change your mind.”

  Sitting up she studied Devlin’s taut backside as he padded across the thick rug to retrieve the tray outside the door. She sighed. What was the use? She could not fight her heart, her desires and Devlin.

  He returned with the tray and placed it on the bed. He shifted under the covers, chose a bread roll, and waved it under her nose.

  “I love the smell of fresh bread. Don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  Breaking the warm dough in half, he placed a piece in her mouth.

  “Hmm, tastes good,” Molly spoke around the food.

  “I like to watch you eat.” Devlin’s eyes twinkled with appreciation.

  Molly swallowed the lump of dough and covered her mouth, defying the urge to appear self-conscious. “You—you make me feel beautiful.”

  “That is because you are.” He placed his arm around her shoulder and took a bite of a strawberry, then with closed eyes, wearily rested his head against the wooden bed board.

  Peering from the corner of her eyes, Molly took the chance to study his handsome profile. What harm would it do to enjoy his company? Was it so wrong for a courtesan to seek affection after lovemaking? She looked up from the cleft in his chin into his open gray eyes that reflected the glow from the bedside candles. He smiled at her and her heart flipped in response.

  Who would care if she left now or in the morning?

  He was here with her, and she was grateful to have him all to herself for the night. She was in the naked arms of one of the most attractive and sexually accomplished men in the country. Placing a kiss on his lips, her insides hungered for more than fresh bread. “Make love to me again.”

  “Are you not sore?”

  “I will be fine. But if you do not have the stamina …”

  “Sassy vixen,” he chuckled and threw the blankets off her body. He ran the back of his hand between her breasts and over her stomach. “I pledge a solemn vow to make love to you until exhaustion claims us both.”

  Throwing her arms over her head, she replied, “Let’s test your vow.”

  * * * *

  Holding Molly tightly, Devlin watched the redhead in his arms sleep peacefully. She had the appearance of a sated woman who had the world within her grasp. If only it were true. No matter how much they sake their lust, their time together was limited.

  Devlin studied her wild beauty. The fringe from her long lashes cast shadows on her high cheekbones while light-colored freckles added a wholesome appeal. When she had arrived on the first day, he could not even see her freckles from the layer of dust and dirt on her face. Inexperienced and naïve, Molly had a sense of adventure that simmered beneath her virtue. With bold courage, she took initiative and showed uninhibited sexuality as if she had been a courtesan all her life. He had trained her well. So well, other men would bid high for her. Clenching his fist, his chest stiffened at the thought of another man touching her at the mistress auction.

  If only …

  Devlin shook his head. There was no if only for him. Even if he were to escape the marriage contract, he was honor bound to marry another of his noble station.

  Molly whimpered softly in her sleep, and Devlin studied the play of emotions across her face. He gently kissed her forehead, and the wrinkle relaxed between her brows.

  He sighed in frustration, wishing he could easily vanquish the demons in her sleep as he could the lonely days he would face.

  Tomorrow, the mistress auction would take place. If Molly did not become the chosen one, Devlin would have to marry Audrey by spring.

  There was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Chapter Ten

  Molly woke to find herself alone in Devlin’s oversized bed. Shifting the warm covers, she gingerly swung her legs to the side and rose. A porcelain tub of steaming water sat in the corner of the room. Silently, she thanked his thoughtfulness. How did Devlin ready the tub without her waking?

  Padding over the lush rug, Molly lowered herself into the water, her tender muscles easing into the warmth. She made an audible sigh that went through her whole body. A white facecloth on the edge fell into the tub. Absently, Molly twirled the material around the water, then placed it over her eyes blocking out the morning light. She rested her head back on the cool rim and relaxed.

  The door creaked opened and then gently closed.

  The excitement of Devlin's presence sent her spirits soaring. Without turning around, she asked in what she hoped was a sexy voice, “Would you like to join me?”

  “I don’t bathe with commoners.”

  Water splashed on Molly’s face and she jolted up, the cloth falling from her eyes. Audrey stood over her in a low-cut peach gown. The bridge on her pert nose wrinkled, her blue eyes flashing with contempt.

  Molly covered her breasts and straightened. “You should knock before coming into someone’s chamber.”

  “This is not somebody’s chamber. It is my husband’s,” she said and stalked around the tub.

  “You are not married yet,” Molly said and pushed herself up.

  Audrey shoved her back down, and bathwater splashed over the edge. “Is the water getting cold?”

  Like a hot dagger, swift anger stabbed at her chest. Molly shot to her feet and boldly stood naked. “I would like privacy, if you don’t mind.”

  Audrey sniffed the air as if the sight of her were distasteful. In casual leisure, she walked to the door, calling over her shoulder, “You may have acces
s to his body, but his heart is all mine.”

  The door slammed behind her.

  The cool air made her wet skin prickle, but her blood simmered with rage. Everything inside her wanted to slap Audrey’s pretty face. Molly knew she had no future with Devlin, but did the blonde have to vocalize it?

  Stepping from the tub, she wrapped a towel around her torso. She gathered her dress into a bundle and clutched it to her chest. With a quick peek down the deserted hallway, she ran across to her room.

  Finding another riding habit of violet, she slipped into the fresh gown and jerked a brush through her wayward curls. She tried to smile in the mirror, but could not stop her heart from breaking. Her shoulders slumped along with her smile. She could not pretend any longer. Perhaps if she said it aloud, it would not be as bad as thinking it.

  “I am in love with Lord Devlin.”

  Even her reflection cringed at the realization. Her aunt’s warning voice whispered inside her head. “You must guard your heart or all will be lost.”

  She shook her head. It was too late. Her heart was compromised.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she pushed to her feet and left to find Devlin. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but she had to talk to him.

  The wooden balustrade on the grand staircase was cool and smooth under Molly’s hand. Angry whispers filtered up to her when she neared the bottom of the stairs. She rounded the corner to find Yvette arguing with Audrey. The French maid saw her and stepped back. Audrey twisted around and gave Molly a smile that did not reach her eyes. With a toss of her hair, Audrey strolled away, but not before giving the maid a deadly look.

  Yvette rushed over to Molly. “I am very sorry for not assisting you this morning. I was told by his lordship to leave you rest.”

  “That is quiet all right, Yvette.” She wanted to ask what they were arguing about.

  Bobbing, Yvette gave a faint smile and disappeared down the hallway toward the kitchens.

  As expected when she entered the dining room, everyone stared at her as she moved toward an empty seat. Her eyes scanned the crowd for Devlin’s familiar face, but could not find him.