Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five)

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Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five) Page 15

by Maureen Driscoll


  And then he blew on her feet. Her foot, actually. He was blowing on the sole of her right foot. Starting at the heel, then working his way slowly up her arch to her big toe. Then he lightly blew on each toe of that foot.

  Then the devil started in on the other foot.

  Rosalind had never thought of her feet as a part of her body that could give her pleasure. They were her feet. Secretly, she’d always thought they were one of her nicest features. She liked her long toes and how slender her feet were. But it was one area that no one was allowed to see, so she figured they would forever remain hidden. However, the way Liam was lavishing attention on them made her gasp for air. He was starting a fire from her toes all the way up the middle of her. And if he could make her feel so much just from blowing on her toes, imagine what would happen the further he went.

  As if reading her mind, he lifted one leg and slowly kissed his way up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. He licked ever so lightly, making her squirm.

  “Do you like that?” he asked.

  Did she like that? He had to be daft if he didn’t already know the answer. She nodded, trying to catch her breath.

  “When I ask you a question,” he said quietly, “I expect an answer.” He lowered her leg and rolled her over enough to just expose one globe of her bottom. Then he very lightly spanked her.

  It took Rosalind by surprise, but it also sent an intense sensation of pleasure through her. It had been the lightest tap, but it had been felt throughout her body.

  She could feel his silence. His hesitation, his worry that it had been too much. She knew he wouldn’t continue if she didn’t like it. But she very much wanted him to continue. She tried to speak, but had to clear her throat. “The next time?” she said, slightly louder than a whisper. “I want it harder.”

  There was only a moment’s hesitation before Liam’s body pounced on hers and he took her mouth in a searing kiss. “What did you say?” he asked as he kissed his way down her neck, then ran the stubble of his cheek over the tender skin.

  “I said, next time I want it harder.”

  She could feel his arousal pressed into her leg and for a moment, she wondered whether he would press into her and be done with it. But he lifted himself off her and picked up her right leg once again.

  He knelt on the bed and placed her ankle on his shoulder, bending her leg. She knew she was fully exposed to him and could almost feel his eyes upon her. It only excited her more. He kissed her ankle.

  “What do you want?” he asked. His voice was growing deeper by the moment. He kissed up her leg, getting scandalously close to the part of her where she most wanted him to be.

  “I….I…you know what I want.” It was one thing to want it, but another thing all together to express it in words. She had been raised a lady, after all. Unfortunately.

  He expertly turned her again and spanked her arse again. This time harder. This time her reaction was even more intense than initially. She felt heat warm her arse and the skin grow damp.

  Then he had her leg on his shoulder once more. “When I ask you a question, you will answer me. Now, what do you want?”

  “I want you!” she said.

  “Oh, Rosalind. You’ll be the death of me.” He spread both her legs, then lay on the bed between him.

  She half sat up, trying to see him.

  “I told you to lie back.”

  This time he shifted her the other way and spanked the other cheek. Her groan was testament to how much she liked it.

  He resettled himself between her legs.

  He brought his lips just inches above her curls. He let her feel his breath upon her. She squirmed.

  “Stay still!” he ordered, pressing his hands beneath her and lifting her closer to his mouth. He breathed in deeply.

  She was terribly embarrassed yet could not bring herself to tell him to move. Not that he would, of course. She had a feeling that until she said “spectacles” – and she certainly had no desire to bring any of this to an end – he would continue as he wanted. And she would let him. She might never say the word “spectacles” again in any context, just to preserve the memory of what they were doing here tonight.

  “What do you wish for me to do now?” he asked.

  “I want you to….to enter me.”

  He lightly tongued the area. “With what? What part of me do you want to put into which part of you?”

  Rosalind didn’t quite understand the question at first. At this point, she understand what went where, and rather thought he did, as well. She wasn’t exactly certain what everything was called – that certainly hadn’t been included in her lady’s education. And the naughty books she’d read with Lizzie had used names she couldn’t bring herself to utter.

  “I want you to put your….”

  “Say it, Rosalind.”

  “I…I….oh!”

  He’d bitten the inside of her thigh. It was slightly sharper than a nibble and it sent a pulse of sensation through her.

  “I want you to put your….cock…inside of me.”

  He groaned his approval. “Where inside of you?”

  “Oh, Liam, do I have to say it? It’s not like it’s my ear or my nose….oh!”

  This bite had been harder and might even leave a mark that Rosalind would be sure to study in the morning.

  “I want you to put your cock in my cunny!”

  She could feel him smile against her leg. “I will, my love. You can count on it. But not yet. Right now, something else is going inside your sweet cunny.”

  For a brief moment, she was confused. Then when she felt his tongue begin to slowly sweep through her curls she went wild. On instinct, she jerked upward against his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

  He paused only long enough to spank her again. Harder.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “For apologizing for your very natural, quite welcome reaction.”

  Those were the last words he spoke for the next several moments.

  He was holding her so still, that Rosalind had little choice but to submit to his actions. She desperately wished she could see what he was doing, although the intensity of being blinded made it even more heated.

  He continued to lave at the heart of her, sucking and licking until she thought she would die from the glory of it. Finally, the pleasure burst out of her. She couldn’t hold back her scream, not that he would have let her. She was learning that he wanted everything from her. She could hold nothing back. Not as long as they were together.

  As her tremors subsided, he finally ended his caresses. He rose from the bed and Rosalind hoped that he was about to enter her properly. Or, rather, improperly. Who ever knew the Duke of Lynwood could be so….demanding in his pleasure.

  She was just about to tell him that she needed him inside of her, when she felt something brush against her breast, instantly hardening the nipple. It had been so lightweight she’d no idea what it was. Now it came again, sweeping across the other nipple.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “Hush,” he said. “It is not your place to ask questions.”

  He repeated the movement and Rosalind could hear a faint fluttering, as if a piece of material was sweeping by. Was that what it was? A piece of silk? Another cravat? A feather?

  Then something else brushed across her breast. This felt more like a finger. A moment later when it gently pinched her nipple, she knew she was right. The pinch was followed by a sweep of his tongue. Rosalind wanted to hold his head to her. She pulled at her hands, but the cravat held tight. She heard him chuckle.

  Then she felt the bed sink down and Liam put a knee on either side of her. Finally, he was going to give her some relief and come into her. But instead, she felt something brush her nipple again.

  And it was not his finger.

  “Your cock,” she said, unbearably aroused by the thought of that part of him pressing against her breast.

  He hissed inward at the sound of that word on her li
ps. “Say it again.”

  Rosalind was just about to obey, but thought better of it. “No.”

  “Say it again!” he ordered.

  “No,” she said, readying herself to be turned and spanked.

  But instead, he inched forward up the bed. “If you don’t say the word again, you’ll regret it.”

  Rosalind had a feeling the very opposite was true. She slowly shook her head back and forth. He moved further up the bed and she couldn’t imagine just what he was about. He moved, then stilled again.

  “Remember, Rosalind. If there is anything you do not wish to do – anything – simply say the word.”

  “I know the rules, Liam. Now, do your worst.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she could feel him coming closer to her, then something rubbed across her lips. It was neither cravat nor finger.

  She sucked in a breath in her excitement, parting her lips. The tip of his cock pressed slightly inward. The skin was incredibly soft and the tip was wet. She swept her tongue over it to taste the nectar and was rewarded with a groan.

  “Oh, Rosalind,” he said, as he brought one hand down on the bed to steady himself. “Can you….will you take more?”

  Her only response was to open her mouth wider and to move her head toward him. He allowed himself to slip into the welcoming warmth only for an inch.

  It was not nearly enough for Rosalind.

  She sucked him in and felt him jerk in response. Unsure of what to do at first, she began mimicking the motion of what it had been like when he’d filled her. She could feel his thighs shaking with the exertion of control.

  He reached behind her head and removed the cravat, allowing her to see the magnificent sight. There he was rising up before her, with his cock slowly sliding in and out of her mouth. It was glistening and hard. And she wanted to bring him to completion that way.

  She looked into his eyes and was amazed by the depth of feeling. Not just passion. That was a given. But he was truly wild. This was Liam in his element, losing control and showing her a side of him she was fully prepared to meet.

  Suddenly, he pulled out of her mouth, moved back down the bed, spread her legs wide and shoved himself into her. She came the moment he entered. He did the same in the next instant.

  The two of them lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, joined together truly as one. Finally, Liam reached up and untied her hands, then chafed her wrists to make sure they did not hurt. He wasn’t looking at her. But she could not wait to see his eyes.

  Finally, she pushed him onto his back, then climbed on top of him. He looked up at her reluctantly.

  “What is it, my love?” she asked.

  “What we just did….are you… did it give you a disgust?”

  She could not believe he even had to ask. She smiled reassuringly. “It was remarkable.”

  “And what you did with your mouth…”

  “I look forward to doing it again. Just as I look forward to tying you to the bed and having my way with you.”

  He held her fast to him until they fell asleep. When Rosalind touched his cheek, it was damp. She smiled to think she’d brought the great Duke of Lynwood – her Liam – to tears.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It had been a long, tedious carriage ride and they still had another few hours to reach London. Valencia, Lady Elling, snapped her fingers at her footman and ordered him to tell the innkeeper to hurry with the dinner which would undoubtedly be inedible and likely result in some sort of nasty stomach upset. It was bad enough that there’d been no private room in which to dine and they were in the corner of the hideous inn. But such was her fate when travelling with her grating companion Darva, Lady Montpelier, who’d insisted they stop yet again. It was no wonder she was as fat as a cow. She ate anything and everything that was placed in front of her. She was probably trying to console herself for being married to Montpelier. Lady Elling could have told her there were far superior ways of getting through an unpleasant marriage, as she had learned when her husband was alive.

  But it was more than the wretched journey that was weighing on Valencia’s spirit. It had been a most disappointing house party. She’d had one goal and that had been to secure Lynwood’s proposal. She would quite like to be a duchess and Lynwood would be a decent enough husband, though she did not care at all for his sister or his common sisters-in-law. But they could be overlooked, given Lynwood’s skills in the bedchamber and the size of his estate.

  She’d had the perfect plan. She’d convinced Lyman to invite Liam to the estate, claiming he wanted to do right by his tenants when everyone knew he didn’t give a damn. Then all she had to do was seduce him and be seen coming and going from his bedchamber often enough that Lynwood’s famous honor would prompt him to propose. Rosalind Carson was no match for her. Who could possibly prefer a bespectacled spinster from a family so far in debt that they were being cut by baronets. Baronets!

  Yet, inexplicably, that seemed to be Lynwood’s preference. It was most infuriating. And Darva loved reminding her of it.

  The woman in question chose that moment to speak up. “I never would have believed that Lynwood would hare off after Rosalind Carson had I not seen it with my own eyes. Whoever would have thought that mouse could attract the likes of a duke? I am quite sure you did not. It must have come as a shock to realize that you were going to lose him to her. Well, such is the advantage of youth.”

  The hit was direct. But Valenica would not give her companion the satisfaction of seeing the effect. “What can possibly be keeping the innkeeper with our dinner? Surely it must be difficult for you. How long has it been since you have eaten? Two hours? At least there is no chance you shall waste away in the meantime.”

  Lady Montpelier’s only response was a tight smile and a death grip on her wine glass. But she wasn’t done yet. “Just think, if you had kept quiet about Rosalind Carson’s whereabouts, Lynwood never would have found her. They are together, thanks to you. Mayhap, they shall invite you to the wedding and you might be thrown together with her brother Calvin. I’m sure he would have no problems with your age.”

  “Mayhap,” said Lady Elling, rising from the table. “I believe I am in need of some air, since the room smells intolerably like spoilt meat. Do enjoy your meal. I am sure you’ll ingest nothing a London surgeon won’t be able to cure you of. Eventually.”

  With that, Valencia strode across the crowded room, with her footman close behind. Darva had no idea how close she had come to having wine thrown in her face, along with the carafe. But there was no use sparring with a woman too dimwitted to realize her husband had slept with every woman at the house party except his own wife. And Valencia had made sure she’d been with him twice.

  But the damnable thing was Darva was right. Perhaps Lynwood did prefer the mousy Miss Carson because she was younger. And mayhap they wouldn’t be together if that bitch of a maid hadn’t overheard her scheming with Darva. Well, she was still determined to become the Duchess of Lynwood. She just had to adjust her plans.

  Her footman slipped her ermine cloak over her, and Valencia stepped out into the cold afternoon air. It wouldn’t be comfortable standing outside waiting for Darva to finish eating, but she had no desire to go back inside. She even considered taking the coach and leaving word for Darva to rent a conveyance. But she didn’t want the woman to know her words had affected her like that.

  “Excuse me, my lady.”

  Valencia turned with a start to see an unkempt brute of a man daring to address her. Before she could give him a setdown, her footman was at her side.

  “Stay away from her ladyship,” he warned, advancing on the man.

  “I don’t mean no harm,” said the man, doffing his cap and bowing in a way that was outwardly obsequious, but Valencia had a feeling was patently false. “I jus’ wanted to ask about an acquaintance of hers, who she mentioned a few minutes ago.”

  “You have no cause to listen in on her ladyship’s conversation,” said the footman, who seemed
ready for a fight.

  “Just a moment, Trinkle,” she said, studying the stranger. “What acquaintance do you mean?”

  “Miss Carson,” said the man who had an appraising look in his eyes. “I think we may be of some mutual use to each other.”

  Valencia considered this for a moment. She thought the man’s accent was from the London stews. There must be some reason why he was so far from home and inquiring about Rosalind Carson. She turned to her footman. “Excuse us for a moment, Trinkle. I would like to speak to this man.”

  “But your ladyship…”

  “That will be all.” The tone she used left Trinkle with no doubt as to her determination to be left alone.

  The man across from her snorted, then smiled at the servant. “You’d best be off then.”

  Trinkle dutifully walked away, stopping out of earshot but within a distance to rescue her if necessary. Valencia sometimes wondered what she’d done to inspire such loyalty, then she thought of the generous wages she paid and knew the answer.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  The man spit tobacco out of his mouth, just barely missing the hem of her gown. “The name’s Grant Loudin and I’m Bow Street’s finest. I’ve been hired to find Rosalind Carson. And I’ve been wondering if it’s the same one as you was talking about earlier.”

  “Who hired you to find her?”

  “’Fraid I can’t tell you that. All I can say is it ain’t the one who found her. This Duke of Lynwood you talked about. What does he want with her?”

  “I think he inexplicably wants to marry her, though I cannot give you the first good reason why he would.”

  The man frowned. “You sure he wants to marry her and not just give her a tup or two?”

  Valenica bristled, in part because she knew Lynwood wanted to tup the lady in question as well as marry her. “I am a lady, Loudin. You shall not use that language with me.”

  “Forgive me, my lady,” said Loudin, looking anything but sorry. “But do you think he’ll marry her or simply ‘toy with her affections’ as your lot says?”

  “I believe they will marry as soon as they return to London. By special license if need be.”

 

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