by London Casey
But she’d always protected herself. She’d always been the first and last person she could trust in.
Just let them have their month. No less, no more. It wasn’t safe to risk more and she’d be able to let him go, if only they could have the full month to share each other. To have their fill and become sated on each other.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, vexation clear in his voice.
“Yes, I heard you.”
“Then why are you staring at me with that terrible blank expression?”
She shook herself. God, he looked so fierce, so wroth with her. Even so, his eyes were so beautiful, they threatened to transfix her. To make her forget everything in the world except giving him whatever he desired.
She could gladly turn her back on the whole wide world to follow him and never glance back. She would follow him to her own destruction, just like the Prince with his Lily.
Shaken by the power of that thought, she clung to the only defence she could. Her steadfast commitment to the plans she’d already made. “How many times must I say it? I shall go to live in Ireland, just as soon as I can bear to travel by carriage again.”
In reality, she had no choice. Her sister was coming. She couldn’t be cavorting with a man once her sister arrived in England. She still had no wish to share her private family business with anyone. Not even Ruel. What harm his knowing could do her sister, she wasn’t quite sure. But she couldn’t let go of the protective urge to keep that matter secret from everyone.
Trust yourself first and last always. Even more so now, for Dorothea’s sake.
“By the end of this month, you may not wish to pack off to Ireland so quickly.” Again, his words startled her out of her deep thoughts.
She understood of course. He meant for her to be his mistress. Someone he could control at his leisure and dismiss at his whim. “I won’t be your mistress. Not long-term like that.”
“What are you so afraid of? Why does everything have to be so set over this? Can we not simply be lovers now and see where things lead?”
Oh, she wished he would just be silent and stop pushing. Why couldn’t things just stay the same as now? He would never grow tired of her and she would never become more attached to him.
But nothing ever stayed the same.
Shaken anew by that thought, she struck out, “Everything is in your favour. And please, just understand when I say that I cannot be your long-term mistress.”
“I already told you. I have an understanding with another lady and I never break my word once given. So I shan’t ever marry you, Nan. If that is where you are thinking to lead things—to pressure me into a proposal—forget it.”
Ha! The sheer arrogance of the man. She was trying to tell him that she didn’t wish a deeper commitment with him and he assumed she was trying to extort a proposal of marriage. “I don’t want to lead things anywhere. I asked you for help and guidance. You agreed, if I would allow myself to become your…little wench, as you put it. I did so. Then you told me to take care, not to expect too much from you. I haven’t. I have kept my expectations on my future in Ireland.”
“Living the life of a reclusive little nun? You’re not suited for it.”
He did not know her as well as he thought. Solitude was all she was suited for. Her father had known that, as had William. Why else had they both elected to leave her alone? “It is my life, my decision. I am only here because it was my decision. Because of our agreement.”
Anne watched Jon as he filled the horse trough. His expressionless features sent irritation bristling through her. For the past two days since their quarrel, aside from some brief comforting in the stable around the horses, he hadn’t touched her. In addition, he’d been polite yet coolly distant. The tension had her stomach aching.
By God, she’d had her fill.
Even his anger would be a welcome release. On impulse, she splashed her hands in the trough. Water came crashing up, sloshing him in the face.
He glanced up and the startled expression on his fierce face filled her with vicious satisfaction. “Behave,” he said in serious voice.
He walked away to fetch more water.
A devil possessed her. She took the bucket, scooped it into the water. “Jon!” she said urgently.
He turned and she drenched him.
He stood there, his hair, face and the top part of his wool jacket dripping. One large, long-fingered hand raked the hair from his eyes. The tension in her stomach turned into flutters.
“I take it you want my attention,” he said, his expression now stern.
She laughed, an airy, nervous expulsion.
“Oh you’re going to have my attention, my lady.”
She squealed, dropped the bucket and ran. The sound of his boots on the ground behind her sent thrilling chills through her whole being. The sensation made her scream again. Perversely, joy exploded within her chest at the release of the scream, of the thrill of being chased.
He caught her about the waist with his arm. She screamed and screamed but he merely swung her up into his arms.
“No, no!” she kicked, trying to beat at him with her fists, which mostly resulted in her arms flailing about. She alternately screamed and laughed, her insides a mass of frantic, fluttering butterflies. He carried her into the first empty stall. She glanced down and saw a linen sheet covering the hay where it lay piled up. He held her suspended for a moment. She began to develop caught a dreadful suspicion about his intent.
When had he put that sheet in there?
“No!” she cried, her whole body tingling with anticipation.
In the next moment, she fell backwards and landed on a soft cloud. Lavender scent wafted up from the sheet, blending with the pungent scents of horse and sweet, fresh hay.
He mounted her, his tall, strong body pressing her down. His azure stare was fierce and fiery as he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. His other hand gripped her chin roughly and his lips came down on hers, swift and hard. Her blood pumped through her body. He hooked his large, powerful hands into her muslin neckline.
“No, don’t…don’t.”
Tearing cloth sounded. Her head jerked back up and she gaped at him, too shocked to speak. With a few jerks, he had soon pulled the torn remains away. Beneath it she wore a chemise as thin as gauze. It tore as easily as paper.
“I can’t believe you—”
His kiss cut off her words. He touched her breasts, hefting them, squeezing them. Generally manhandling her. He twisted and pinched her nipples, sending darts of desire into her core. Hadn’t this been what she’d wanted? She closed her eyes and shivered with sensation. He ravished her nipples, licking and suckling her until she straddled his leg, seeking release. “Oh please, please, please.”
“Hush.” He released her breasts and grabbed her shoulders, hauling her up.
“What are you doing?”
“I am going to show you how naughty girls are dealt with in the stable.”
Chapter Thirteen
Anne’s heart sped into alarm as Jon pulled her hands behind her. A delicious sort of fear went shivering down her spine. “I’ll be good. So very, very good.”
“It’s too late,” he said, fishing in his pockets. Light coming through a crack in the wooden walls glinted on something metallic. Two pairs of silver handcuffs lined with padded, dark blue velvet. “Do you know I bought these just for you? In Soho, in a very naughty shop. A shop designed to help put naughty girls in their place. See the elegant scrollwork and the sapphires?”
She glanced at the delicate-looking bejewelled cuffs, then back up to his hard, determined look. Her throat went dry and she swallowed hard. But her channel started clenching in earnest.
He took the cuffs and reached behind her.
She couldn’t help struggling. Despite her resistance, he soon slipped them onto one wrist, then the other. She pulled hard on her hands, but found the cuffs were looped on a hook inserted in a post. He dropped to his knees, grasping an ankle. Sh
e tried to kick her legs but he had one already cuffed and now locked the cuff’s clasp about her other ankle.
She tried to bend down but the bonds prevented her from lowering her hands. She couldn’t stand and she couldn’t sit. She could only kneel. “I don’t think I like this.”
He laughed, the sound soft and sinister. “Now I can finish my chores in peace.”
She fidgeted against the cuffs, succeeding only in making a scraping sound. He came over to her and placed one hand on his hip.
“You definitely need something to keep you busy.” He rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Oh, I know just the thing.” He pulled a dark blue velvet sack from his pocket and poured two silver balls out into the palm of his hand.
“These are weighted balls. But first—” He cupped the balls in his hand then withdrew a silk handkerchief from his pocket, already folded over several times.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, he seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in blindfolding her. Why?
“No, no, please no.”
He rubbed the silk against her cheek. Hungry for his touch, she let her cheek lean into his silk-covered hand. Then she caught herself and stiffened. He frowned. “Nan, do you remember the word I told you about? Sapphire.”
“Yes.”
“Do you wish to say it now and go back into the cottage?”
She stared at him, hating him. God, she’d never give in like that. He knew it, too. “No, I don’t.”
“Then submit to this without playing the hoyden.” He wrapped the silk about her face and she felt him secure it.
Everything went dark. He ran a hand down over her tummy, moving lower and lower until he reached her cleft. He teased her swollen inner folds until his fingers started slipping on the deluge that welled out of her. Then he stroked her firm nub. She moaned, her hips arching despite her contorted position. Oh God, she wanted him so badly.
And she hated him for it.
His tongue touched her nub, flicking it and swirling around, driving her rapidly to the very brink. Then he backed off, only to repeat the process.
“Oh, please,” she whimpered.
He ceased tormenting her. “Pardon me, my love, I was distracted.”
Metal bounced on metal. A pure, sweet sound like music filled the air.
“You’re going to love this. Absolutely love this.” Something in his tone put a cold dread in her belly.
The cold metal touched her heated, swollen inner lips. She gasped. “What do you think you are doing?”
One ball slipped up into her channel, the cool, smooth pressure delicious to her heated flesh. Then the other slid quickly up the channel. The roughened feel of his fingers coming back down lasted for too brief a time. She bit her lip and moaned.
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!
Dear God, she hoped she hadn’t said that aloud.
Then she realised he’d left those little balls up there.
“Jon? What. Are. You. Doing?”
His wet fingers slid in a circular motion around her swollen nub. “Hush, or I shall gag you.”
“Gag me? Are you insane?”
He sighed and pushed her hair off her face. “Now, Nan, last chance—is there anything you want to say to me before I affix this? A particular word, perhaps?”
“I want you to—”
He slipped the silk strip across her mouth, then his hands were moving behind her head.
God, he had really done it. He had handcuffed her, blindfolded her and gagged her. Actually gagged her! Was he insane?
He caressed her hair. “Can you breathe all right?”
She glared at him. But he couldn’t see it! Rage seethed through her and she struggled against the cuffs. The balls banged together within her. Sexual stimulation sliced through her. Want like she’d never known convulsed her cunny. And that made the balls clang again. Harder. She cried out, the sound muffled by the gag, and her whole body froze as a series of these terrible quakes overwhelmed her senses.
“What the bloody devil!” she tried to say.
She heard his boots crunching on the dry straw. Then he put something between her knees. Maybe the small crate. It took her a moment to realise his intent. She could not bring her thighs together to apply pressure.
She tried to hold herself still but her body shook and her cunny clenched against her will. And every time it did, the little balls bounced together. Pleasure crippled her. Her wetness oozed down the insides of her legs, its slow slide somehow heightening her arousal.
She could hear Jon crooning to the horses. She could picture him brushing and stroking their glossy coats. She’d never thought to be so jealous of a horse. She hated that horse. As if sensing her dark thoughts directed at them, a horse nickered, startling Anne into awareness of how close to the creatures she knelt tethered.
Without thinking, she jumped. The balls bounced and bounced and bounced. The pained pleasure forced a long and low groan from her.
“Doing all right over there?” Jon’s calm voice echoed through the stable.
“You bastard!” She spat the words against the cloth.
He chuckled. “What? I couldn’t understand you, love.”
She refused to say more. He’d already had enough satisfaction.
Her legs cramped. Her feet went to sleep. She had to keep shifting her weight. Each time, the horrid little orbs rolled and sent waves of excruciating fire through her. Her inner walls clenched in spasmodic hunger, creating even greater waves of aching need. Sweat dripped down her face, down between her breasts. Itching. Her wetness ran between her legs like a flood and her nub pulsed painfully with each beat of her heart.
After a time, she heard his boots approach.
“Christ almighty.” The words were one elongated exhalation. “You are so beautiful like that.”
Wet, crunching sounds came to her. At first she couldn’t imagine what it was. Then she realised. He was eating an apple. Eating! Amusing himself while he watched her suffer under torture. Finally, the sound ceased.
“All right, wench, I have some time for you.” He squeezed and handled her breasts. “Would you like me to fuck you now?”
She tried to hurl a new curse at him. The results were muffled.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He unlatched her wrists from the post. Then he brought them back behind her back and refastened them. Hands on her arms, he eased her down on her knees, the little silver balls jostling the whole way, rendering her immobile with exquisite agony. Shuddering with desire.
He removed the silken gag. She worked her mouth against the dryness it left behind. He laid his hand on the angle of her jaw, then gently pressed. “Open, Nan.”
Despite her anger, his commanding tone had the same weak-in-the-knees effect on her as it always had. She wanted nothing more than to obey him. To do anything he wanted. Especially to let him shove his cock into her. Anywhere he wanted to.
She opened her mouth, drew him inside hungrily then set to pleasuring him with vigour.
Desire to suck him, to take him as deeply as possible and savour him, warred with the pain the little balls caused her each time she moved. He seemed to take pity on her predicament, finally holding her head still and doing the thrusting himself. It didn’t help. She trembled hard all over and her inner walls contracted.
His harsh groan caught her by surprise. Against her tongue, his cock shook, the roiling-up of his semen.
Oh God—no!
Her channel clenched, sending another agonising wave of hunger through her. The first jet of his hot seed rushed into her mouth and she moaned, a deep anguished sound in her throat. He gripped her head and groaned in gluttonous pleasure as his cock delivered forceful surges of honey-thick fluid into her mouth.
His cock jerked so violently, she had a hard time keeping her mouth closed around it. She had to swallow and swallow and swallow. He was coming so hard, so fast, she couldn’t get a breath.
His ejaculations finally ended. He withdrew and she gulped air.
He
made a sound like a cross between an exhalation and a groan as he stroked her hair vigorously. “Damn, my girl.” He chuckled breathlessly. “Damn.”
Caught up on her breathing, she sat back on her heels in dull shock.
“You said you were going to fuck me! You promised!” she exclaimed without thought.
“And so I am. You must learn to trust me, Nan,” he said, his tone tender as he unfastened her cuffed ankles. His fingers gently massaged her legs. Then he removed her handcuffs and did the same with her hands. “As soon as you can walk, I want you to go back inside, prepare yourself and wait for me.”
“Will you remove those hideous little balls?”
He shook his head. “No, I am afraid I shan’t and you cannot remove them either. Elsewise I shall make you wait until midnight.”
“I cannot possibly walk with these little devils inside.”
“You cannot know what you are capable of, until you try.”
“Oh God, you couldn’t be that cruel!”
“What will you give me in return, if I relent on this point?” he asked.
“Anything, anything you want,” she vowed.
“All right, Nan, you get your way…this time.” He removed the orbs from her.
He backed away and stripped out of his clothes with unhurried movements. Nearly drooling with her mindless need, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him as he slowly revealed his powerful body. Then he approached and took her hand and wrapped it around his heated, half-hard warmth.
He hardened into a full erection almost instantly. Already. She cried out.
“Do you see? That’s for you, Nan. All for you.”
Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks. She was too far-gone to care. She couldn’t help squeezing his erection, feeling its thick weight. The prize she held in her hand.
“Do you think it’s like that for anyone else?” he asked.
The press of her emotions in her throat wouldn’t allow her to speak. She could only moan.