by Lenora Bell
“Lie back and raise your arms above your head,” she said.
“What was that?” he murmured, back at his task of worshipping her glorious breasts.
“I said lie back and raise your arms over your head,” she said in an amusing approximation of a growl.
Interesting, the lady wanted to play. “Whatever you want, Dimples.”
He stretched lazily. He’d left the bed in only his smalls, so she had plenty to see.
He loved the way her eyes grew hazy as she watched him stretch his length across the bed.
He lifted his arms over his head and flexed his muscles. “Like this?”
“Wrists crossed,” she ordered.
Even more interesting.
Nick complied, liking this new, forceful side of his wife.
She was full of surprises.
She reached up and . . . surprised him even more.
“Are you tying my wrists?”
“It appears so,” she said, bending to her task, biting her full lower lip as she concentrated on wrapping silk cords around his wrists. Where did the cords come from? Had she been carrying them around, thinking about doing this all morning?
“You know I’ll be able to break free easily, right?” he asked. “And then I’ll have my way with you.”
She smirked. “I’ve been practicing my sailor’s knots, in the event the merchant ship to India is overrun by pirates, all the crew is killed, and I have to escape in a rowboat.”
Nick burst into laughter. “And have you been practicing rowing then, too?”
She tugged on the knot around his wrist and calmly proceeded to secure it to one of the carved bedposts. “Oh yes. And I’ve also been practicing . . . riding,” she said in a seductive tone, glancing down his body. “In the event I must make my escape by horse once I reach shore.”
“Riding,” said Nick, his voice sounding strained.
He twisted his wrists to test her knot. The lady could tie.
She gave him a satisfied smile. “You won’t break free easily.”
No, he wouldn’t. And why was that so arousing? He’d never wanted to be tied before. He’d always been the one in control. He’d always been the tie-er.
Something about Alice’s smile disarmed him so completely. He didn’t mind being in her power. In fact, he could probably learn to like it. Especially when she looked at him like that.
“Why are you smiling at me so wolfishly, Lady Hatherly?”
“Because I just remembered something I read about in my manuscript,” she replied, flinging her long, silky hair out of the way and down her back. She licked her lips, her gaze sliding lower, over his abdomen and down further.
Mouth congress. Nick remembered the words he’d read before and rejected as too preposterous. Now they made a lot more sense.
He immediately went as thick and stiff as he’d ever been. Stiffer. He was going to burst right through his smalls.
The lady had shed her inhibitions under his tutelage, he thought proudly.
And the result was thoroughly wicked.
“Now then. Do you know why I’ve tied you?” she asked.
Mouth congress, Nick thought hopefully. “Ah . . .” His breath rasped harsh and fast. “I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me, Dimples. Or you could . . . show me,” he suggested.
Show me, show me, his mind screamed.
“I tied you up,” the little vixen said, licking her lips again, “so that we could have a nice, long . . . talk.”
Nick’s shoulders tensed and his arms strained against his bindings. “The nice, long object I was hoping you wanted rhymed with talk,” he ground out.
“I’m sure it did,” she purred. “And I’ll pay attention to you soon enough, I promise,” she said, in the direction of his tented smalls.
Nick always did love a woman who spoke directly to his cock.
“But right now,” she continued, her gaze traveling back to his face, “I’d like to hear you tell me a few things.”
Nick sighed. She really would be the death of him. “You know you don’t have to bind me to have a conversation, right?”
“I know, but it’s so much fun to bind you.” She drew her hands down his biceps. “And then frighten you with the threat of conversation.”
Nick narrowed his eyes. Was she . . . teasing him?
She was, the temptress.
“Alice, untie me right now.” He wanted to flip her on her back, thrust her arms over her head, and have her twenty different ways.
She bent down to kiss him, her lips soft yet demanding, moving over him hungrily.
Her hair fell in a curtain around them, blocking out the world with the faint, evocative scent of lavender and lemon leaves.
He kissed her hard and strong, pouring all his longing into it, telling her that he needed her.
He wanted so badly to clasp her, to thread his hands in her hair and deepen the kiss, but the silken cord held tight around his wrists, keeping him immobile.
“Alice,” he moaned. “Untie me, sweetheart, I have to touch you.”
“Not yet. Not until I do some exploring.”
She brushed her fingers down the trail of dark hair that led into his smalls. He instantly hardened again.
She tugged his smalls over his hips, and his cock sprang free, upright and eager for action.
“I think I’ll serve you as you served me,” she said breathily.
Nick held his breath, praying that what she’d said meant what he thought it meant . . .
She kissed her way down his chest, over his stomach, and still she kissed, lower, over the curly hair at the root of his cock.
She stopped.
He strained against the ropes. “Untie me, you vixen.”
“I don’t think so.” She gave him a truly wicked wink, and her pink tongue darted out and licked the side of his cock. Then she took a swift breath, opened her mouth, and lowered her lips over the entire head.
He groaned, lifting his hips. He couldn’t have controlled his response if he’d wanted to. It was the most erotic sight he’d ever beheld.
His ravishing, intelligent, until-recently-innocent wife with her lush, full lips closed around his hard cock. He moved inside her mouth slowly, carefully, and she held her ground, her warm, wet mouth surrounding him.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Take a little more, if you can, only if it feels good.” Take it all, he wanted to moan, but didn’t. And holding himself back made it even better.
Her mouth slid a little bit farther and her tongue flicked out, tracing the rim of his cock. Her palms were braced on the bed to either side of him, and she had the most endearing little wrinkle of concentration between her arched eyebrows.
He pushed in an inch deeper. Her eyes widened slightly but she didn’t balk. Instead, she relaxed her throat and made an effort to swallow more of him.
“You have to untie me now, Alice,” he groaned. “Or I’m going to come in that luscious mouth of yours.”
She made a garbled sort of response, her mouth full of cock, and he jerked beneath her, needing to slide, desperate and helpless with his wrists tied and his wife teasing him to the brink of ecstasy.
He’d never felt this mindless with desire before. He was so close to losing control. He couldn’t spill down her throat. She was sensible Alice.
Prim Alice. Pragmatic lover of languages.
And skillful seductress.
She was learning this language very quickly, indeed. Her lips stroked him up and down, following the gentle thrusting of his hips, while her tongue kept swirling.
“Wrap your hand,” he managed to say, “around the base.”
“Like this?”
Soft fingers around the base of his cock.
“Grip it. Harder.”
She did, and pleasure shot fast-growing tendrils from the root of his prick to the head. He wasn’t going to last long.
“Alice, I don’t want to spend in your mouth . . . if you keep doing that, if you . . . Alice, lift y
our head.”
She didn’t lift her head. Only kept working him with her fist and her mouth and he lost all control, climaxing with a loud, guttural growl, his vision spotting around the edges while he spilled into her mouth.
She swallowed some of his seed, her eyes gone wide with surprise.
She raised her head, her throat working. “Well,” she said primly, wiping her mouth with her skirts. “I had no idea there would be so very much of it. I didn’t see exactly what happened last night . . . down there.”
His head fell back on the pillow as his orgasm subsided and the last bursts faded from his mind. “If you had unbound me when I begged you to, I would have bodily lifted your luscious lips away. Most women aren’t keen to swallow.”
“I’ve already told you, Nick, I’m not most women. You have no idea what I’m going to do next . . . and that drives you wild, doesn’t it?”
She could say that again.
And she could do what she’d done again. He’d never, ever grow tired of her plump, soft lips clinging to him as she took him deep in her throat.
And, just like that, he was instantly hard as oak.
She was having trouble untying the knot she’d made. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her round breasts bouncing over his face as she struggled with the knot.
“You pulled on it too much. It won’t come loose,” she said.
Well, this could be embarrassing. Wouldn’t March grumble if he got an eyeful of this. He already thought Alice meant to exert her evil, female control over the entire household.
Nick grinned. “You shouldn’t bind a gentleman if you don’t have the strength to untie him afterward.”
Her lips pursed as she tugged and worked on the silken cords.
She let out a frustrated sigh. “I’ll have to cut you free.”
“There’s a knife in my boot,” Nick said.
She paused. “Why is there a knife in your boot?”
“Never you mind. Just fetch it and release me. My wrists are going numb, Alice.”
She found the small knife secreted in the hidden holster in the top of one of his Hessians and climbed back into bed.
When the knots finally came free, he did what he’d been longing to do the entire time. He hugged her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her, holding her so close he could feel her heart beating against him.
God, it felt good to hold her.
Before he’d married her, he’d thought that she was his very favorite kind of trouble.
He’d been wrong.
She wasn’t just his favorite kind of trouble.
She was the best trouble he’d ever had.
Chapter 21
Pleasures, being as necessary for the existence and well-being of the body as food, are consequently equally required.
The Kama Sutra of Vātsyāyana
Alice pressed closer against Nick’s chest.
What she’d done had been so very depraved, but for some reason she didn’t feel ashamed.
It must be the tender light in Nick’s eyes. The way he smiled as he smoothed his hand over her hair.
The Kama Sutra said that pleasure was as necessary to the body as food. Now she knew what the old sage had meant.
Being held by Nick . . . holding him back . . . fed something in her. Some desire for closeness that she hadn’t even known existed.
Her belly tingled with warmth and with the awareness of him. His nakedness. She was still fully clothed and he was quite thrillingly not clothed.
She traced the whorls of hair in the center of his chest. His body was so hard and angular, the complete opposite of hers.
His abdomen was ridged with muscle, unlike her soft, concave belly. She touched him there, and his belly rippled beneath her fingers and his . . . good Lord. Was his tool stiff again?
She glanced up swiftly.
“That’s right, Dimples,” he growled. “I’m aroused again. And do you know something else?” He riffled her hair and kissed her cheek. “You’ll like it even more today. You may even like it quite a lot.”
A quick, breathless wave of longing flooded through Alice at his words. She wanted him inside her again. She was as ready as he was. She could feel wetness between her thighs and ripples of the same pleasure she’d felt yesterday.
He rose above her. “This time I want you naked as well.” He undid her gown and made swift work of her stays, petticoats, shift, and stockings until she was as naked as he was.
In full, glowing daylight.
With nothing to cover her but her hair and her hands.
She shifted her hair over her breasts. He caught her hand. “Oh no. After what you just did to me, I have a right to look my fill.”
She closed her eyes as he made a lazy perusal of her body.
“Gods, you’re beautiful, Alice.”
She peeked out from half-closed lids. He was staring at her with awe and admiration writ across his face.
“Such high, firm breasts.” He covered her breasts with his palms, bouncing them lightly, starting a luscious, aching throb between her thighs. He pinched her nipples lightly, rolling them between his fingers.
“Slim waist,” he said reverently, sliding his hands down her body and encircling her waist with his large hands, “and flaring hips, exactly how I like them. Were you made just for me, Dimples?”
He dipped his head and kissed the depression in the center of her belly, and then he worked his way lower. His toyed with the curls covering her sex, and then, when she was ready to beg him for it, one finger slipped inside her.
“You’re so wet,” he said on an exhale.
He pushed in farther and she gasped. It hurt a little, but it was also indescribably good. His thumb found the sensitive button of flesh at her core and rubbed over her, making her tremble and moan.
Without warning, he grasped her hips and reversed their positions, pulling her atop him with her knees spread to either side of his hips.
His hardness sprang up, between her legs, slapping against her belly.
“When Lear interrupted us in the gallery, you were on top of me, and I wanted so badly for you to do . . . this.” He held her hips, positioning her core against his cock. “Lower yourself onto me.”
Could she do that? Did she dare?
“That’s right,” he urged. “Guide him where you want him.”
Alice curled her fingers around him and guided him into her body. She wanted him there. Right there.
His fingers tightened around her hips and he eased upward, entering her slowly.
She bit her cheek. It stung. But he’d told her it would feel better and better, and she trusted him completely.
With one, smooth, swift movement, she pushed down over him, burying him inside her.
“Alice,” he cried. Hearing him say her name made her feel proud and powerful.
She felt him, solid and hot, filling her, stretching her.
She closed her eyes, braced her palms on his chest, and started to move.
Slowly at first, finding what felt the best, and then faster. Harder.
He moaned dirty, wicked things as she rode him. “Pump your arse,” he commanded, and she did, losing all restraint and throwing her modesty away.
Her breasts bounced and she didn’t care. Her bum slapped against his thighs and she didn’t feel embarrassed.
His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. “Hold a moment. We have all day. Let’s make this pleasure last.”
Rearing from the bed, he flipped her over and pinned her wrists above her head, still moving inside, slow and sure, and she loved it . . . she loved every second of it.
She loved him.
The thought stopped her cold and she tensed beneath him.
“Is something wrong, Alice?” he asked, halting his movements as well.
She couldn’t love him.
That was against the rules of their contract. She couldn’t love him because she had to leave him. And because he could never love on
e woman alone and she could never share him with anyone else.
She was confusing lust with love. Thinking that because he said her name in the heat of passion that he must be having these same feelings.
“Alice,” he murmured, stroking her cheek, his eyes glinting silver in the sunlight. “Talk to me. Sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Get a hold of yourself, Alice. You’re a Lady Rake. You’re far too sophisticated to fall in love.
Reaching for his neck, she pulled him down. “Nothing’s wrong, Nick. I . . . it’s all so new. But it feels amazing.” And it did. And when he began to move again inside her, slow and sure, pleasure built in her mind and in her belly, sharpening to a pinprick of light like the North Star in a night sky.
He reached between their bodies, and his rough finger found that sensitive place, and then light burst in her mind and sensation rocked through her body.
He lifted her off him and clasped her so tightly she couldn’t breathe, his smooth length sliding against her belly in swift, hard jerks as he found his pleasure.
As her pulse slowed and the glow faded, Alice rested in his arms, her moment of emotional weakness gone.
That had been much, much better, she thought, still floating on a frothing wake of pleasure.
He touched her lips with his thumb, and her body’s reaction was immediate, and overwhelming.
She wanted him. Again.
Would she ever stop wanting him? The thought frightened her.
“You said you’ve revised your opinion on young ladies,” she said lightly. “But I haven’t revised my opinions on rakes. Arrogant, domineering, and quite convinced you are the world’s best lover.”
“You don’t have anyone to compare me with, Dimples. So I’m definitely the best lover you’ve had.”
“You do seem rather . . . expert.”
“I’m going to keep you in this bed until you’re the expert.”
“I’m not sure I want to stay in your bed.”
“You’re the one who asked for lessons.”
“Yes, but they don’t have to happen all at once.” She needed time to steel herself against these forbidden feelings.
“You mean I can’t just keep you in my bed for the next month, wearing that scarlet corset?” he asked, with a wicked grin.