by London Casey
He kissed her cheek, a slow, sensual brushing of his lips. “Let me finish feeding the horses.”
He released her and walked back to the fallen bag. His rustic clothes, the plain woollen coat and thigh-hugging nankeen breeches tucked into plain black boots, accentuated his tall, muscular frame. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him as he bent to pick up the bag.
Sexual desire fuelled her energy and she felt stronger than ever. She wanted to show him that strength. The strength he had given her. She could push herself a bit further.
“I could do that,” she said. “I could put the food in.”
He turned. His bright blue eyes lingered upon her, so tender and warm that she caught her breath.
All her feelings—gratitude, lustiness and joy in this moment—seemed to squeeze her chest with painful intensity. “Let me do it…please.”
He shook his head. “Not today. For now it is enough that you were willing to come close to the horses.”
“But I want to—I want to prove myself.”
“And so you shall, but not today.”
He didn’t believe she was strong enough. He didn’t believe she could do it. The energy inside her churned in her blood, demanding release. She balled her fists at her sides and pressed her lips together.
“It chafes, I know, allowing someone else to make decisions.”
At his understanding tone, sudden tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back ruthlessly.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s just that so much time has passed and I am no better. Nothing changes.”
“Nan, you’re standing in the middle of a stable, not six feet from two full-grown horses. Could you have done this a week ago?”
“No.” She inhaled deeply against the burn in her chest. “I daresay I could not have even come near the stable door then.”
“Then that’s progress and I won’t have you negating it.” He left her then and returned to the horses. Within moments, he was back with her. “Now we have the matter of your reward.”
“My reward?” she asked dumbly.
“What did I promise you, if you could come into the stables and offer to help me?”
“You didn’t promise any—” Her voice broke off at the memory. Her face went up in flames. “But you were only teasing me.”
“On your knees, Anne,” he said in a firm tone.
“Pardon me?”
“It’s how it is done.”
“How what is done?”
“Sucking a cock.”
Chapter Twelve
Anne’s knees went rubbery.
“Here?” She glanced down at the straw-strewn floor and her every sensibility was offended. However, her nipples pulled tight and wetness began to slick her inner folds.
“Did I not warn you about what can happen to a wench who wanders into the stables?” Jon asked.
She laughed shakily. “But the lord ordered me in here. I had no choice.”
He made a soft, chiding sound. “Nan, there are always choices. A wise wench would have found some way to call off or get someone else to cover for her.” He undid the first button on her bodice.
“Jon, what if someone comes along?”
He had her dress open and fondled her breasts, handling them carelessly, caressing her aching nipples then pinching them roughly.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
He brought his lips close to her ear. “There’s no one here but you and me and our feelings.”
She was trembling now and had gone wobbly on her pins.
He grasped her by the shoulders. “You had better kneel down before you fall over.”
He had unpinned her hair and it fell in a cascade over her shoulders.
After so many nights in his bed, she didn’t even try to deny her desire. Nor her enjoyment of his peculiar and perhaps perverse sexual tastes. But it still made her feel unbearably exposed to react so strongly to him. Moreover, she’d learnt there was no point to be gained in letting him have his way too easily. Especially when he was in a playful mood. Worst of all, his refusal to allow her to help stung.
She lifted her chin and stared at him boldly. “You actually think I am going to fall onto my knees like some Covent Garden whore and take that…that thing into my mouth?”
“No, I don’t think you’re going to do it like a Covent Garden whore would. For one thing, you’ve absolutely no experience at it.”
“So in other words, I won’t even rate with the whores?”
A grin split his face, giving his fierce features an almost boyish cast that she had never before seen on him. “Well, I wouldn’t have put it like that, Nan.” He cupped her face. “What a mouth you are developing. I’ll have to see what I can do about sweetening it up.”
He put his lips on hers, gentle, warm pressure moving sensually over her for long moments. She swayed into him and he lifted his head. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a slight push. Her heartbeat sped, for that was always his signal that he was done with playing. He expected her to either give a straightforward refusal or kneel.
She dropped to her knees in the straw, no longer aware of anything else but him. He unfastened his nankeen breeches, then he was holding his cock. From this angle, it looked huge. Maybe a little intimidating. She could never get all of that into her mouth.
“Just kiss it first.”
She put her lips to the head. It was like hot, smooth silk stretched over iron. Her heart beat faster at the sensation.
He threaded his hand into her hair, sliding his fingers along her scalp. “Now use your tongue. All around it, Nan.”
She complied, running her tongue around the velvety crown. Fluid leaked from him, warm and salty. She licked it away and it only seemed to increase the amount that flowed. Goodness, of all the things he’d cajoled her into, this was surely the wickedest.
“Open wide and take me as deep as is comfortable.”
She took him into her mouth. His hand gripped her hair more tightly and he released his breath in a hiss. She glanced up at him, uncertain.
He nodded.
Dear God. He tasted divine. She wanted to consume him whole. She eagerly took him deeper yet, trying to take the whole of him. His crown reached the back of her tongue, and as he leaked profusely, the hot fluid rushed into her throat. The urge to gag arose. She tried to fight it back but then a small retch overtook her.
He gripped her shoulder and pulled out. She shuddered and lurched a moment.
Jon caressed her head. “Steady now. Go slower. I need to know how much you can comfortably take.” He touched her cheek. “Open wider and relax; let yourself become accustomed to it. If you feel yourself gag again, try to swallow.”
It was impossible to relax with her blood pounding through her, singing in her ears. She wanted so desperately to please him. But as she wrapped her lips about his thick, throbbing length she sensed she wasn’t getting it quite right. She had only half his cock in her mouth.
Yet his hand remained tight on her hair and his breathing was more like a rhythmic grunting. She realised he was trembling almost as hard as she was. His balls drew tight to his body and his stomach was taut. She knew his body now. Knew he was about to come.
A sudden panic hit her. He might come in her mouth. Oh God, she hadn’t ever imagined such a thing!
He pressed on her shoulders, withdrew, then wrapped his hand tightly about the base of his cock and inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes and groaned, panting hard as he released his hand.
He had stopped himself from coming. She hadn’t realised a man could. But why had he done so? She had wanted to please him. Her heart had beat for nothing else during those moments he’d been in her mouth. Anxiety pulsed through her blood.
She glanced up at his face. “I did it wrong, didn’t I?”
His eyes shone luminescent as a summer sky as he smiled and cupped her face. “You did fine.”
Self-awareness returned. She was in a stable, kneeling in sta
le straw. Servicing a gentleman with her own spit oozing down her chin. And thoroughly enjoying every moment. She brought her arm up and wiped her face with her sleeve.
Jon stared down at Anne, admiring the full, lush breasts that fairly exploded out of the unbuttoned dress. Glassy sapphire eyes stared back at him, full of confusion. Damn it, he was confused too. He’d been with so many skilled women. And of course this here had been exactly as he anticipated. She’d been inexperienced, frustratingly clumsy in her actions. But God, she’d also been perfectly submissive. Maddeningly sensual in her enjoyment whilst sucking his cock. However, it hadn’t been enough.
She was giving only her body, her physical service, her climax at his command. And he wanted…what?
Something deeper than mere physical submission. Total capitulation of her carefully guarded self. To be allowed into that place she shared only with dead philosophers.
That was a stunning thought. Maybe even a bit disturbing.
He shouldn’t touch her now. He should take some time to sort this all through. To cool his head. However, his overwrought passions demanded release.
“Lie back.” He touched her shoulders.
She didn’t resist but lay passive in his arms. His to do with as he wished. She fell back upon the straw covered floor, her midnight-black hair fanning out around her head, her eyes huge and burning with hunger.
He hooked his hand into her hem and shoved her muslin skirt up to her waist. Then he all but fell on her.
He thrust deep. Sweet Christ, it was gratifying how drenched her cunt was. And snug as a glove. But it wasn’t enough. He lifted her buttocks up and drove himself in and out of her with a violent passion. She lifted her hips to meet his every downward stroke and clung to him with arms and legs wrapped tightly about his body.
He stopped fucking her. “Who owns you, Nan?”
She looked up at him with shocked, passion-glazed eyes.
“Tell me, Nan, or I shall stop.”
Her eyes closed. “You do, only you.”
There was nothing so satisfying in the world as those four words. “Good girl.” He growled the words then withdrew from her. Her whimpers sounded in his ear as he rolled her over onto her hands and knees.
He wanted more from her. He brought his hand down and made sharp, slapping contact with her buttocks several times, the sound an echoing crack in the stable.
She arched upwards and put her forehead on her hands, upon the floor.
He couldn’t bear the sight of that broad, plump arse, already rosy pink from his hand. He wanted to feel her come, hard. He wanted her to squeeze the life out of him.
He entered her sheath with his fingers, wetting them thoroughly. Her walls tightened around his digits. He spanked her arse again, several times. Then he touched her arsehole.
She gasped.
“Easy now, love,” he said. He ran his finger around the puckered entrance in teasing strokes. “Every part of you belongs to me.”
He slid one finger slowly inside.
She caught her breath. “That’s my good girl.” He thrust his cock into her and took her fast and furiously, brushing the hair off her neck and nipping at her nape. Their simultaneous climaxes were explosive, like nothing he’d ever experienced. He almost didn’t pull out in time.
And yet, emotionally, he remained so deep inside her that he was uncertain of his moorings. It wasn’t a very comfortable place to be.
At sunset, Anne ate the hare placed before her with no complaints, eyeing Jon and wondering what was on his mind. Since this morning, after they’d left the stable, he’d been unfailingly polite—too polite in fact. He was distant.
She could think only that she’d disappointed him. Maybe she was innately cold. William had certainly thought so. If so, she didn’t know how to overcome it. She couldn’t pretend enough warmth to be a truly satisfying lover to a man.
Of course Jon would be kind. For all his perverse carnal tastes, he was at heart a gentleman. But she had known from the start that she would disappoint him. She just had hoped it wouldn’t come this soon. They had three whole weeks to go. Only now could she admit how much she’d been looking forward to that time with him. What would happen now? Would he find some excuse to cut their time here short?
She tried to think how it had come to this. It wasn’t her carnal performance. She was too intelligent to fool herself over that. Anyone could see that he had enjoyed their time in the stable today. So it must be her emotional coldness. The afterwards part. As with William, she hadn’t said or done the right things. Hadn’t regaled him with witty and flattering conversation.
She’d done as she’d always done and withdrawn into herself. She couldn’t help it. Polite talk wasn’t something that came naturally to her. She wasn’t witty. She just felt…awkward. Even her compliments most often sounded too frank, or too flat.
Having been isolated on the estate in Ireland, she’d been kept from learning to move in Society with ease. And that was another thing. Likely, her ineptness put him off as well. This man had lived in harsh army situations, faced and survived battle.
She couldn’t even face her own pampered life with any degree of adequacy. She didn’t possess a woman’s natural pleasing warmth and charm and she lacked a man’s learned capability. She could read books, play chess and keep account books. That was the limit of her abilities. What had she to offer a virile man like Ruel in the way of being an interesting companion?
“What’s wrong?” His deep voice startled her from her thoughts.
“I could not even operate a weapon, much less kill my own dinner.”
He stared at her as if she’d grown horns. “Of course you can’t. You’re a lady, born and bred.”
“Well, it makes me rather pathetic, does it not?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would.”
His face lit with interest. “You would like to learn?”
“Oh, goodness, no,” she said quickly, sorry she’d even said anything.
“Why not? I could teach you.”
She turned her attention back to the meat. She lifted her fork and placed a piece in her mouth, trying not to grimace at the detested taste. Eating gave her something to focus on other than her dismal fears and soon the lot was gone.
“Anne, do you really want to learn to hunt? To fish?”
She shrugged. “Fishing might prove interesting.” She looked up from her empty plate and gave him a bright, happy laugh.
His broad, high forehead wrinkled as his dark-brown brows drew together.
“Are you sure you’re quite all right?” he asked. Then his frown deepened, his fierce expression sending the same curl of fear down into her stomach as it had the very first time she’d met him.
She flinched away.
He took her hand. “Was I too rough in the stable, Nan? Should we talk about this?”
“Oh, that.” Her face burned under his regard. “It was…interesting.”
“Interesting as in I frightened you and now you’re trying to put a polite face on it?”
“I am quite all right.” She couldn’t look at him.
“We should always discuss when something makes you uncomfortable.”
“Yes, of course.”
He leant forward and kissed her forehead. Then he stood and his boots sounded on the floor as he walked away.
Their empty plates and dirty utensils clattered as he set to washing them in the basin.
She leapt to her feet. “I could do that,” she said with no real confidence. She’d never washed a dish in her life. She went to his side and lifted the soap cake.
He took it from her. “No, you are not to wash dishes.”
“Why ever not? It is woman’s work.”
“You’re not just a woman. You’re a lady.” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. Teasing entered his expression. “And, more importantly, you are my personal plaything. I don’t want your hands roughened.”
“But I want to pull m
y own weight here.”
“It’s not your decision.”
“They are my hands—surely I may decide if they shall be exposed to work or not.”
“Nan, we’ve talked about this. Your body belongs to me and your hands are part of your body. I happen to prize your skin very much. If I want your body oiled every day and soft, it shall be. If I want your hands kept smooth and pristine, they shall be.”
Defiance burned her. “But I may learn to hunt and catch fish?”
“Yes, but you shall do so only when you are with me, like this. If you wear gloves, you should sustain no lingering roughness to your hands. That’s not the same as soaking them in caustic soaps.”
“I see.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
He frowned. “What do you see?”
“That you mean to control every aspect of my life, at least while we are here.”
“I never lied about that, Nan.”
“Well, I can’t breathe like that.”
“You’ll adapt,” he replied firmly.
Her mouth fell open. Mere moments ago, she’d been ready to cry into her pillow because he might be disappointed in her. What insanity. The man was an impossible tyrant. “Did you expect this from all your other love affaires?”
“They were nothing like this. This is…something very rare.”
Her heart started pounding, but whether from fear or hope or some confused mixture of the two, she didn’t know. “Don’t sham me.”
She couldn’t bear it if he did. She’d been laughed at and mocked by her own class too much. If he were to join them—
“Anne, you knew this was something different too. From the first time we met.” He grew silent for a moment, scrubbing then rinsing a plate. “I don’t want this to end in October.”
Her mouth fell open. The shock of his words took her breath, her very ability to think. He wasn’t disappointed. He wanted of her. More from her. The floor seemed to rock beneath her and she tightened her hands into fists in her lap.
Prickling uneasiness swirled in the area about her navel. Fear. But of what, she couldn’t say. Perhaps because she couldn’t think clearly at the moment. He was always rendering her incapable of reasoning. Sooner or later, his influence would cause her to make a rash and unwise decision.