The Surrender of a Lady

by Tiffany Clare

  “Stop this.” He must have been caught off guard by her raised voice. Mouth clamped shut, he allowed her to continue. “I was given no choice about that life. Amir has been most kind to me. He would never abuse me or neglect me. He has been above reproach in his care and generosity.”

  “I fear your faith is placed in the wrong sort of man.” He snorted his disgust. “He’s no more morally incorrupt than the people that visit his bawdy island.”

  “I do not mistake his generosity. He’s been most kind, and I know you will never understand such a thing. You cannot understand the lengths he went to to save me from a death too cruel to repeat. I bear great respect for the only man to show me kindness in all my life.”

  She revealed too much with the last; she spoke strongly. She’d kept her past so deeply buried that once she started digging, the heart of the matter seemed to raise to the surface on its own, demanding she delve to the very core of her secrets. It was a strange personal revelation, too. For the first time in five years, she actually hated the fact that Amir’s kindness had won her over so easily. It made her an unworthy woman and mother to not fight harder for her freedom.

  “Elena.”

  His tone was low, soothing the frightened doe. Did he understand the significance of her words?

  “Stop calling me by that name. Elena is dead! Do you understand?” She pounded her fist to her heart and choked back a sob. “She died in here five years ago. She died. She is no more. I cannot explain it to you, but she is no longer who I am. I am Jinan. It is not an act. It is not a way to hide. This is who I am. Not the whore as you so aptly wish to name me, but a woman who was reborn with the help of her master and the love of her sisters. Elena is dead and you need to forget she ever existed. Because it would destroy a part of me to remember what I once was.”

  She swiped the tears off her face, turning away from him.

  This was a better silence they shared. She no longer felt awkward in it. She’d said what needed to be said. It was up to him and his goodwill to leave her be. It was up to him to take pity on her and bring her back home. Give her back to her son.

  “I’ll never forget Elena. Or the wrong my uncle committed against her.”

  She looked up at him, wondering what he meant. “Your uncle has nothing to do with me.”

  “Don’t be so sure. There were letters found upon his death—enough to condemn him in the eyes of his peers for so many wrongs against people he acknowledged as friends. He was a deceitful bastard. He made sure I knew you’d been sold off to that bastard Lord Shepley.”

  Silence fell between them as the implication of his words took root in her mind.

  What did he mean? She barely knew his uncle; they’d never been formally introduced. Although she’d had reason to distrust her husband’s machinations in securing her hand in marriage.

  “Did you think me so coldhearted as to attempt the seduction of a debutante and not offer marriage? I know my reputation precedes me on occasion, but I thought we had an understanding even if we hadn’t announced it to the world. I thought we would marry.”

  “I had hoped, but you were so far above my station. I assumed when you did not dance attendance upon me after the Glenmoores’ ball that you’d moved on. Please forgive me my ignorance. You will have to enlighten me in regard to your uncle.”

  “Come now, Jinan. Did you never wonder how you married a man without prospects? Your beauty alone could have ensnared a man of better standing than Lord Shepley.”

  “I still don’t understand what your point is.”

  “Then listen carefully, for I do not want to repeat myself as it is against my own soul that you’ve suffered this life.

  “My uncle was nothing but ruthless and scheming. He wished me to marry someone of his choosing. You, my dear, unknowingly foiled his plans. Perhaps if naïveté were not a common folly in youth, I would have whisked you away from London to Gretna Green. But such is the folly of youth that I never saw any danger in courting you.”

  “Robert would never have mingled in the same circles as the ton.” And because he gave her honesty, she could do no less. “I realized, after that night, that I couldn’t expect you to indulge in anything aside from a flirtation with me. I knew my prospects were few with my lack of dowry. My sponsor was most kind to even allow me a season in London. It was to be my only season for she thought my beauty would land me a husband. She was right, of course.”

  “Jinan, please come sit with me.”

  He held his hand out in invitation. She didn’t take it but rose and sat opposite him on the cushioned seat. The sun was high in the sky and warmed the cubbyhole. Folding her legs under her, she placed her hands in her lap and waited for him to continue with his tale.

  “My uncle was more cunning then I ever gave him credit for. He paid a portion of Shepley’s chits on the condition he petition for your hand in marriage. The wedding, though small according to the letters I found, was also paid for at my uncle’s expense. My uncle knew what he was doing when he set that desperate jackal loose in your direction. Anything to keep me from marrying you. He promised Lord Alderly that I’d marry his middle child, knowing I’d flee to Europe till things settled down.”

  “This explains a lot. Fills in a lot of the puzzle pieces I’d been trying to figure out. Actually, it doesn’t surprise me that Robert was paid to do what he did.”

  “I cannot imagine he kept you in high standing, nor do I expect there was an abundance of love lost between you—” He paused, brushed his hand through his hair, and leaned his head back against the wall. “You do not show any kindness in your words toward him. Did you love him?”

  She didn’t respond, just turned her head to the side so he couldn’t read the truth in her eyes. No, she’d never loved her husband. As much as she’d tried to build a life for them, he’d refused her sympathy. They’d learned to live with each other in the end, but only on cordial terms. Rothburn sat up and shrugged out of his jacket. She didn’t look when he tossed it over to the chair she’d just vacated.

  What was the use of him telling this story? It was so long ago. It didn’t matter—not now.

  Besides all that, rehashing it changed nothing. She needed to go back to the harem whether he wanted her to leave or not. That was her rightful place. Not playing house with this lord of the realm, who was bound to leave her when duty demanded he produce an heir.

  Her place was with her son. It always had been and would be.

  Was he trying to soften her heart? If he looked carefully, he’d see she’d always held him in the highest regard, but kept a safe distance out of necessity.

  His hand wrapped around both of hers and lifted her chin toward him.

  “Do you despise me so much?”

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and turned away from him. “No,” she whispered.

  “Then stay here with me, Jinan. You’ll never want for anything. I’ll always look after you. I’ll care for you as your husband never could.”

  “It will never be possible.”

  “And why not?”

  Did he understand nothing she said? Turning her head, she stared at a bird flitting from branch to branch on the lone olive tree. Sliding one of her hands free of his grasp, she traced her finger over the edge of the cushioned seat. His hand was suddenly gone as his arms slipped around her shoulders and under her folded legs.

  Telling herself she only wrapped her arms securely around his wide shoulders because she didn’t want to fall, she stared at his neck. Maybe he’d said everything that needed saying between them, she wasn’t sure. Not another word was spoken, not even when he laid her on the bed and made quick work of removing her silk trousers, vest, and scarves.

  When she was naked, he stared down at her. His expression was so intense and full of unsaid feelings between them that she wanted to cover herself. He saw too much of her right now. Retrieving the box with her sponge from the nightstand, he went into the bathing room. She heard the pop of the cork and th
e clank of the bottle. It should strike her as odd that he knew how to do this, but then he had bought her the sponge to begin with.

  When he came through the door opposite the bedchamber, his shirt and shoes were gone. He wore only his trousers. The sponge he held aloft as he knelt at her side. “Say yes. I’ll not take you unwillingly.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Not once did he look her in the eyes as she reached for the sponge, knowing what he wanted from her. He shook his head, pushing one of her knees out. Warm fingers of his free hand spread the folds of her sex that bloomed out toward him. There was some type of oil on his fingers that he used to ease his fingers deep inside her. Biting her lip so she didn’t groan, she spread her other leg out to make it easier for him to insert the sponge.

  What a strange intimacy they shared by him doing this.

  Fingers twisting and massaging her inner passage, he readied her body. Chancing a look at him, she saw his eyes were closed, his nostrils flared as his fingers explored and titillated. Eyes snapping open, they ensnared her in their liquid depths and prevented her from breaking away.

  The cool slickness of the sponge was placed at the entrance of her sheath; his fingers moved slowly and methodically as he pushed it up inside, till his palm was flush to the mound. Leaning over her, he brushed his lips over hers, he parted them gently but did not invade her mouth with his tongue. No, he seemed content with the rubbing of their lips together, and a low groan escaped, the only indication he was pleased with the act. Just as quickly as his warmth had surrounded her it disappeared. His hand pulled away, his soft lips were gone.

  She opened her eyes. He stood at the edge of the bed, pushing his trousers beneath his hips. His cock lay in the blond curls at his center. Not quite flaccid or hard, but filling and thickening the longer she stared.

  What devil whispered in her ear, she did not know. But she sat up on hands and knees and took that growing piece of fevered ecstasy in hand and placed her lips to the tip, giving it a delicate kiss. His hand came round and threaded tightly through her hair. His pelvis thrust forward at the same time he released another groan.

  She’d only ever done this to one other man, and it didn’t bear comparison. There had never been any feeling in doing it before. She did it now to please him, to please herself. He held her heart and would never know it; his very being was imprinted deep in her mind . . . and he could never understand the true depth of it.

  Love was not free to her. She would go back to the harem and never see Griffin again.

  She opened her mouth to him and took him in deep. Her fingers lifted the weight of his sac, enfolding the soft tissue, squeezing and rolling the marbles within.

  Some expletive she didn’t catch escaped his lips as he thrust harder—deeper—into her mouth. He climbed onto the bed, allowing her to sit on her heels and her free hand to wrap around his firm buttocks to encourage the flexing of his hips forward. A low hum of appreciation filled her throat, vibrating down the length of his rod. Her finger slipped behind the scrotum to massage the soft flesh behind. His fingers gripped her hair, pulling taut, but she didn’t mind. Tongue rolling around the soft purple head of his uncapped rod, she took all of him in her mouth, riding along his length.

  When she started to roll the testicles in her palm, he pulled her forcibly from his cock and off the bed till she was level with his face. He stared at her a moment, then drove his tongue, with a force that stole her breath, into her mouth and thrust his hard, now damp, cock against her soft belly. His body was unforgiving as it took. Took everything she’d denied him before now. Her heart leaped furiously against his, her thighs grew slick with the fluids from her cunt. Sweat dripped between the valley of her breasts, collecting in the heavy crease above her ribs. Both his hands tangled tight in her hair as though he feared she’d escape him now.

  That was the furthest thing from her mind.

  But pleasure. Pleasure she could give him in spades.

  By intuition alone, she felt this was her last chance with him. This was the last impression she could make on his soul.

  Snaking her arms around his shoulders, she pressed her breasts tightly to his chest and tried to inch up his body until his cock thrust between the folds of her sex. She was tall enough for that, but he didn’t seem to grasp what she was about.

  Their teeth clanked painfully together as their kisses grew feverish. That didn’t stop them from delving their tongues farther, tangling and tasting as she surrendered her body completely to him. Something she’d not done before with him or any other man. Not in all her life.

  Would he understand the significance of this gift?

  Who did she think she fooled? The passion he’d been dying to unleash finally burned bright and strong beneath his hands. The jut of her breasts on his chest made him hard as all hell. It was a challenge not to bend her over and fuck her as hard and furious as the blood pumping through his body.

  She’d finally given him the truth. The only truth he needed to seal his heart to her completely. He was wrapped around that pretty little finger of hers. And the talent she’d shown with that finger not a minute ago had almost made him come off in her hot mouth.

  The taste of lemon from their lunch lingered on her lip as well as the male muskiness from her sucking him off. He pushed her back on the bed, following her down, tasting ever deeper of her sweet, intoxicating mouth. He took his fill of the elixir of her mouth, filling, then retreating, tonguing and dueling for supremacy in this intimacy. She gave as good as she got, matching his pace, lingering as he did, indulging completely in the raw intimacy of the moment.

  Untangling his hands from her hair, he slid them down to her thighs, grasped them and pushed her legs back so her ankles wrapped around his neck. With a deft hand, he positioned his cock and filled her in one smooth stroke.

  The sound he made wasn’t quite a growl or groan but all pleasure as he pulled away from her mouth and pressed his forehead to hers. Panting, because he was bloody well panting as he held himself above her, he closed his eyes and breathed in deep. He was so close to losing his seed. They wouldn’t leave this bed for the next week if he had his way. What was sprouting a little seed prematurely in their joining when he could last longer in a second tangle between her sweet thighs?

  Hands framing her face, he pulled up enough that he could look at her eyes. Was it possible he’d cracked fully through that tough exterior she wore like the strongest armor?

  “Jinan,” he whispered against her parted lips.

  It was all he could say once her pelvis tilted upward, lodging his cock deeper into the hugging warmth of her velvet-lined sheath.

  Her hands cupped his face, her fingers rubbing over the stubble as she stared at him with an open heart. It was at once the most erotic, sensual, and humbling sight he’d ever had in his life.

  What would it take to make her his? What did he have to do to prove his worth? To make her stay?

  God, it pierced his heart to get that look of longing when she continually refused to even think of sharing a life with him.

  Reaching behind him and unhooking her ankles, he drew her legs down to clasp around his hips. Then he pulled out and thrust back inside her. He closed his eyes, remembering everything about her—her soft plump flesh, full heavy breasts, and strong feminine legs. Her hand so lightly touching the contours of his face as she explored his features with an innocence ironic to the circumstances.

  He was so close; he didn’t want to finish. Couldn’t he stay in her perfect body for the rest of his life? Why wasn’t it possible to build a life on this simplicity?

  “Jinan,” he tried again. There were so many words still not said between them.

  His mouth was dry, breath ragged, voice hoarse. He stole into her mouth since words escaped him. Did she feel the longing and passion unfurling in him as he took her hard and kissed her with every ounce of affection he harbored for her?

  With her ankles clasped around his buttocks, heels digging into h
is backside, she urged him on when he wanted to indulge in slow pleasure. She broke away from his kiss. Her breath came fast and hard as she sucked in as much air as she could with him crushing her.

  “Love me,” she said, and sucked in her bottom lip as her body arched in demanding supplication against his.

  Was it his imagination? The words were so low and maybe he mistook them for words of bliss, not words from the heart. It was too much to resist what she offered. He’d love her any way he could.

  Pulling from the warmth of her body, he flipped their positions and put his back to the head of his bed. She mounted and slid down his length slowly, a hush of air escaping her parted lips. This wasn’t any better, he decided. He’d spill his seed quicker. She knew exactly how to fulfill their needs.

  With his hands tight on her hips, he stopped the rise of her body. She let out a mewl of frustration and rocked her mound against him instead. He did the only thing he could think of when all he wanted more than anything in the world was to indulge in something she’d denied him since they’d first met. He would not let her cheat him now. Pulling her head back with a grasp to the hair at her nape, he arched it back until she could no longer move.

  “I like that you trust me . . . that you don’t fight me when I take this kind of control.”

  The groan she released was half squeal, half moan, and it had him bucking his hips up hard so he could hear it again. She did not disappoint. Before he could rein in his end, his excess of emotion, he came to his finale, squirting inside her tight sheath. His hips thrusting so hard she had to wrap her arms around his shoulders and hold on tight as he pumped his seed deep inside her.

  She collapsed atop him when his cock jerked a final spurt of milk. Breath ragged, mouth dry, he rolled into her center, never wanting to leave her heavenly warmth. Kissing her forehead, cheek, lingering at her mouth, he finally slipped his softening cock from her, a rush of fluid following his retreat. As much as he didn’t want to leave her, she needed to be cleaned.