by Desconhecido
He sat before the hearth in the library, off to the right of the main hall upon entering the castle, yanking at his pants crotch. He’d been big and hard for several days, damning his thoughts of Carrie. Every time she entered his mind, his manhood grew and hardened, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it, except lose himself in his own pathetic ministrations. He could have called in one of his favorite doxies, but he’d lost all interest in any other female because of Carrie. She was the one.
He looked up when Jake sauntered in and took the chair beside Max. Max didn’t like the gloating look on his brother’s face but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking why he wore it.
“You’re up late, aren’t you?” Jake sank lower in the chair.
With a shrug, Max said, “I just returned from hunting.
“As did I. I didn’t see you anywhere. You find new hunting grounds?” Jake queried.
“No,” Max said abruptly, flicking his gaze away from his brother and back to the fire. He couldn’t tell Jake how he hadn’t been hunting, but had been standing in the woods right outside Carrie’s house each evening since they’d parted weeks ago, pining for a glimpse of her. Max wouldn’t tell him how he waited outside The King’s Tavern and, in his shifted shape, followed her home, protecting her each evening.
“How goes the hunt then?”
Max met Jake’s eyes and scowled. “Not great, but I’ve a plan.”
“And that is…?”
“I’m going to court Carrie—woo her.” At his brother’s incredulous expression, Max added with a sheepish shrug, “It’s what she wants before we mate.”
“Damn, now I know this woman’s your mate, if you’re willing to ignore your heat! For how long? How long will you be able to stand the pain? Now that you’ve found her, the pain must be horrendous.”
“For as long as she wants me to wait…until she accepts her place in my bed. I’ve no idea how long that will be.”Jake was right. The pain had grown, but he lived each day, ignoring it, thinking of his final reward of mating with Carrie.
“You’re a more patient man than I. What’s the first thing you’ll do?”
“Invite her to a candlelit supper here in my rooms.”
Jake laughed. “Sounds like a perfect place to seduce her.”
Max gave his brother a wry smile. “Carrie is a lady, but a stubborn one. If I do manage to seduce her, and believe me, I plan on giving it my best effort, then I will be one lucky man.”
“And if she holds you off, what then?”
With a sigh, Max said, “Then I’ll pamper her with flowers, candy, jewelry, dinners, and nights at the theater.”
“Rather commonplace items, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Max growled, “But it’s what she wants from me and I shall oblige.”
“Uh, don’t you think it might be a good idea, though, to begin with the smaller things. The candy and flowers, instead of dinner in your room?”
“No, that’s exactly what she’d expect from me.”
“What if she refuses to come to dinner?”
“She won’t,” Max said confidently. “I know Carrie has feelings for me. I felt them, and read them in her mind, as I held her in my arms.”
“What! And how did she react once she found out you read her thoughts?”
She doesn’t know. She has no idea what we are.”
Jake was the one to frown now. “Uh, don’t you think it might be a good idea to ‘fess up to her?”
“I will, eventually, once I’ve earned her trust—once she realizes she can’t live without me.”
Doubtfully, Jake said, “I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing. She might think you deceived her by omission. Remember I warned you.”
“It’s worth the risk.”
* * * *
Max slumped back against the wall outside the door leading to the alley from The King’s Tavern as he awaited Carrie’s departure. He hadn’t seen Carrie in nearly a month, and he couldn’t not see her anymore.
He looked at the spot on the ground where the slain woman had laid, and thought about another recent similar death. A serial killer stalking London’s streets was reason enough for Max to escort Carrie home. He guessed now, after being separated from her for ten days, she’d be glad to see him. He nodded in satisfaction then straightened up when he heard the door open.
He faced the door and watched Carrie exit, dressed in her simple white blouse and brown woolen skirt, a cape over her shoulders. Max imagined dressing her in better clothing—ones fit for a queen. She deserved better. She closed the door, looked up, and emitted a small scream.
Max covered her mouth with a firm hand and grinned down at her. “Will you scream if I remove my hand?”
Her blue eyes blazed furiously at him as she started to nod then she seemed to think better of it, closed her eyes and slumped against him, shaking her head.
Slowly, he removed his hand. She surprised him when she kicked his shin.
“Ow!” He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her onto her toes. “Why’d you do that?”
“For scarin’ the daylights of me! Max, why are you here?”
His frown lessened. “I’m escorting you home, and I have a proposition for you.”
She rolled her eyes, settled her reticule over her arm, and headed out of the alley. “No. I’m not a bit interested in your…proposition. “
“Why not?” he asked, stepping into step beside her.
“Because it’s likely the same as the first one you offered. Which reminds me,” she said, coming to a halt. Carrie jammed her hands on her hips and tapped the toe of one kid boot. “Where have you been for the last month?”
He slid an arm around her waist and murmured against her ear, “Missed me, did you?”
“Well…” He kissed her ear. “…perhaps a little,” she gasped.
He tried, he really did, but he couldn’t stop himself from reading her mind.
Oh, Max, I’ve missed you more than you’ll ever know! Why, why did you leave me alone for so long? Where have you been? Have you taken up with another woman? Do you no longer love me? Did you ever?
God, he hated how she doubted him and in silence cursed himself for staying away for so long. A deep kiss would reassure her and he pulled her against his chest, lowered his head, and kissed her full on her sweet lips. His heart leaped when she returned the kiss and wound her arms around his neck. He backed her up against the tavern wall, his mind only on her. He ground himself against her in an effort to ease the ache there, helpless to stop himself, praying she wouldn’t stop him. She didn’t for she lowered her arms from around his neck, cupped his buttocks and pressed him tight against her.
He released her lips and swung her high in his arms, nuzzling the pulse in her neck. “You’ve no idea how I’ve missed you, darlin’.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Oh,” she whispered, “Then you must tell me.”
Max growled, “I’d much rather show you. Come, my carriage is out front.”
“Where are you taking me?” Carrie asked, then placed small kisses on his collarbone, exposed now as she’d untied the tie holding it shut.
“No more will you walk home alone each evening. It’s not safe.” He didn’t tell her he planned to take her home with him, and she thankfully didn’t ask. His manhood throbbed in anticipation of joining with her. She was his—his mate—and he knew she felt that connection to him. She knew he was for her, and she was for him. He thought about the fine dinner cook had waiting in his bedroom for them, thought it a shame they likely wouldn’t eat it.
She’d taken the first step by beginning to undress him. Now her small fingers worked on first one button, then another. She paused when Max reached the carriage and called up to his driver perched high on the seat. “Tom, head home.”
Max settled her down on the cushioned seat and followed her inside, sitting beside her. Then he whisked her onto his lap and started in where he’d left off lavishing her l
ips, temples, and earlobes with kisses. His fingers found their way to her blouse and he started unbuttoning several tiny buttons marching down the front. He reached her navel and eased her arms from the sleeves. The fabric slid down to her waist. He slid his hands over her breasts, then cupped them through the cotton camisole and lowered his head.
He placed his lips around one nipple and suckled gently through the thin fabric, thankful she hadn’t worn a corset. She gasped, arched her back, and closed her eyes.
He paused when she begged, “Stop, Max! It’s too sensitive!”
Obligingly, Max moved to her other nipple and suckled until she squirmed on his lap. Soon he divested her of the camisole and her hands clutched at the front of his shirt as she tried to remove it. He released her breasts and eased himself out of his shirt, gasping with raw pleasure at the sensation of her smooth, silky skin against his furred chest.
Lifting her up from his lap, he held her against his chest and continued kissing her, as his hand slid up beneath her skirts. Pantaloons blocked access to her, but not for long; easily, he undid the tapes and her drawers fell to her knees.
She gasped and pressed her fists against his chest for release but stopped and groaned when he cupped her woman’s mound. Grinding the heel of his hand against her, he worked her quickly. She bounced against his hand, moaning as she drew nearer to completion. Then she stiffened in his arms and the hand he’d settled on her waist came up to cover her mouth just as she climaxed. Her muffled shrieks vibrated against his hand and her eyes widened in surprise as she stared at him. As she came down from heaven, she closed her eyes and collapsed against him, her bottom settling on his lap—on his pulsing manhood.
“Move back a moment, sweetheart,” he whispered as excitement flared through him, vividly aware of that always present pain centered deep in his groin. Reluctantly, she moved back a bit and he reached down and loosed the buttons on his pants.
She looked down then and her gaze widened when he reached inside his underdrawers and pulled out his manhood. Gasping, she started to leave his lap, when he held her in place.
“Don’t be frightened,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
Carrie shook her head and bit her lip at the same time. “But…but I’m a good girl.”
His tentative smile turned into a grin. “Yes, you are. And good girls always give their men what they need.”
“Am I your girl, then?” she asked softly.
“You are.”
“And you need me to…to touch you.”
“Most definitely.” I’ll perish if you won’t.
“But nothing else, you won’t do anything else?”
It was hard for him to agree but he did, with a quick nod.
“All right then,” she said.
Max nearly shouted when her small hand closed around his rigid shaft, pointing skyward.
“Now what do I do?”
He groaned, “Just move your hand up and down steadily, quickly.” His voice sounded hoarse to his ears, and he nearly came from the first few quick pumps she made. He laid his head back against the seat and lifted his hips up and down, mimicking the same motion from her hand. He felt her move off his thighs. When he looked down, he saw her kneeling on the carriage floor, between his widespread legs, her gaze still on his thickening manhood. Her gaze met his then and she paused, a slight smile on her lips.
“Don’t…stop, please,” he whispered.
“You look to be in pain.”
“I am, so keep doing what you’ve been doing and it will ease the pain.”
She continued the movement, even more quickly this time when suddenly he erupted, all over her hand, bellowing at the same time.
Carrie immediately dropped him and cried, “Are you all right, Max?”
Breathing heavily, Max looked down at her with a smile, and picked up a lock of her hair. “I am more than fine, my sweet, and you are a darling girl. Thank you. You’ve eased my…pain.”
She nodded, rose to her feet, and sank onto the seat across from him.
“Why are you sitting way over there?” He laughed aloud when he saw the impish smile on her face.
“Because I don’t trust you,” she said, even as she stared out the window.
“You mean you don’t trust yourself, don’t you?”
She didn’t reply, but Max saw the frown developing on her brow. “What is it?”
Carrie pressed her nose against the window and with a gasp turned to him. “Where the devil are you taking me? Oh, my! Is that a castle over yonder?”
“Yes, it’s my castle, my home.”
“I can’t go home with you! Why, my mum and brothers will worry.”
“Ah, is that all? I had thought you’d say you are a good girl,” he purred.
“I am! Bloody hell, Max, you turn this carriage around and take me home.”
“Afraid I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can.”
He stood up and sat down beside her, drawing her into his arms. “I’ve waited my entire life to find my mate, and now that I have I can’t allow you to leave. I can’t,” he finished on a whisper.
Raising her brow in surprise, Carrie asked, “So you’re resorting to kidnapping me then?”
“Yes, I couldn’t think of any other way to get you to come home with me.”
Pressing against his embrace, she spat, “And just how long do you plan on keeping me a prisoner?”
“Why, until we ma…marry, of course.” Forever!
“You promised to court me,” she reminded him.
* * * *
His words stunned her. Carrie wondered how she ever felt she could trust this man—learn to love him as she did. He’d outright lied to her, and her heart broke. He was nothing but a selfish, insensitive cad, and she hated him. She would not make this claiming easy for him. No, and in the end, she’d make him pay for taking her against her will.
Sulking in her seat as she stared out the window, refusing to meet his gaze she knew was on her, she decided she wouldn’t fight him. Much. She hadn’t really, thus far. Her cheeks burned as she thought about what she’d just done to him. Serviced him, which meant she was nothing more than a common whore.
“What are you thinking?”
Maybe tears would work.
“I want to go home, Max. Please?” She allowed one tear to roll down her cheek, then another, and she wasn’t faking them. They were real, as real as this situation.
“Not yet,” his low voice rumbled. “Afterwards.” Never! He started to stand when she held up her palm.
“Stop! You stay there. I don’t want you near me.”
“All right, but we’ll be at the castle soon,” he warned as he sank back and folded his arms across his chest.
Carrie was frightened, yet excited. While she knew something about men, she didn’t really know this man all that well. Oh, she knew from the beginning he hadn’t killed the woman outside the tavern. Carrie had always been told she read people well, and instinctively knew Max wasn’t the poor woman’s murderer. She needed to face the truth of the matter; she wanted this man, wanted to marry him, still she wasn’t ready to make the confession. Then she thought of her mother.
“But what about my family?” she whispered.
“I’ve already sent a messenger to your mother, asking her permission for you to marry me.”
With a sigh, Carrie knew she hadn’t a chance of finding her way out of this. For how could her mother and brothers turn down the offer from a duke’s son? Truthfully, she had no desire to leave Max. She wanted to be with him, but on her terms, and she hadn’t changed her mind on that. By the end of this night, he’d be begging for her, pleading with her to marry him. Frowning, she mused, or things could be the reversed and she’d be the one squirming, pleading, begging.
The carriage stopped suddenly, the door opened and Max was there, his hand out and ready for hers. With another huge sigh, she reached out for his hand, grasped it as he pulled he
r from the carriage. Tucking her arm through his, he patted one hand and murmured sweet utterances in her ear, between tiny kisses.
She supposed there could be far worse things that could happen to a girl, than having a duke’s son seduce her.
* * * *
“Sign the damned thing, you old bastard!”
Walter Evans, the Duke of Freemont, glared impotently into the eyes of a man he hadn’t seen in years—his daughter’s betrothed—Canton Mason. The man was still obnoxious, unreasonable, and dangerous. The duke had no doubt now that he’d been cursed by the man, whom he now new was the evilest of wizards. In one moment, he’d been able to speak and move about, but now he was stiff as a board, unable to respond, unable to write with the pen the wizard had tucked into his hand, which, the duke supposed, was a good thing. If he signed the document, all of his worldly possessions upon his death, including this castle, would go to Mason.
“If you ever want to see your daughter again, you’ll change this blasted will.”
The duke shook his head, guessing Mason had already murdered his poor daughter long ago. He smashed his eyes shut readying himself for the pain he knew would soon riddle his body. It wasn’t long before he heard Canton Mason mutter indecipherable gibberish, before pain tore through the duke.
Sweat poured from him yet he made himself breathe deeply in order to help bear the pain. God, he prayed one of the servants would stop soon to check in on him, prayed it wouldn’t be too late. Already, Mason had been with him for a quarter of an hour.
Blessed relief soared through the duke’s heart when he heard Simon’s boisterous laughter sounding out in the hallway. How could he have forgotten about Simon’s daily visits, at the same time of day, mid-afternoon?
The wizard cursed again, knowing his time here was short, then held his hands aloft, all fingers pointing at the duke. “You fool! You’ll never see your daughter again, even if you had signed it! She’s dead, do you hear me,” he seethed. “Dead. I killed her within months of taking her.”