A Thief and a Gentleman

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A Thief and a Gentleman Page 3

by Shady Grace


  “Yes, that is what I want. I want to taste you, my sweet Freddie.”

  She pulled back, stunned. “What do you mean?”

  “Tarnish me, Freddie, make me your victim,” he murmured, teasing. “I want to eat your peach.”

  Nash knelt before her, pressing his face against her belly, the folds of her skirt rustling against his smooth jaw. His exploring hands touched her ankles and she jumped from the contact, then his fingers skimmed up her calves and finally along the inside of her thighs, but to his surprise, she shoved her hands down trying to stop him.

  “What?” Confused and a bit irritated, he tried to lift her skirt—she shoved it back down. Nash chuckled, challenged by her fight, and quickly pulled her skirt up before her startled gasp, at the same time tossing her down on the bed.

  The struggle was on.

  Chapter Four

  “You must be new, you are the first to ward off my pleasure,” Nash murmured, enjoying this game of cat and mouse. “And yet, you have bewitched me with your beauty, and your audacity.”

  Without thought to his actions, Nash pinned her to the bed with a low growl, took her tiny hands in his and raised them above her, holding them there as he snuggled against her soft neck, his knee conveniently pressed against the hot V between her thighs.

  Never before had a woman felt so right in his embrace, and even though his motives for taking her were less than gentlemanly, there was something about her that made him want to be gentle. Persuasive. Sensual. Odd, that he should feel that way over a thief.

  Both of her little hands fit in one of his. He began a slow and very thorough check of her person. Nash did not find any stolen goods, but lovely, round breasts, and a soft, not too narrow waist. Luscious curves on a body which fit so perfectly against his. God, he loved a woman with flesh. A vixen who could handle his sometimes rough nature in bed, and this stunning specimen of feminine intrigue suited him just fine.

  “Say ‘yes’ when you enjoy what I do to you,” he whispered.

  She shuddered when his trailing fingers reached beneath, lifted her gown and began to untie the tapes to her drawers, gently pulling them down all with one hand.

  “No,” she whispered, but he ignored the quiet demand.

  “You wanted coins? I will give you more than gold. You will want to stay, my sweet peach. You will stay for my money, my friendship, and my sex.”

  She gasped.

  He looked up, caught the surprise and raw emotion in her eyes, and without further delay he took her wrists and set out to fulfill his wish. How he adored dominating a woman. Not in a vicious, painful way, but in a manner where she would be vulnerable and completely open to his whim. Yes, tonight would be a very special night indeed.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, struggling against him.

  Nash chuckled, and tied her to the bedpost with her very own drawers.

  “This is what happens to naughty girls, caught trifling in a gentleman’s bedchamber. What would Lord Pembleton do with you, I wonder? I do believe he would want me to deal with this fascinating situation,” he murmured against her ear. “You see where I have tied you? I can have you lying down, standing up, and you can straddle me, all while tied to the post.”

  “That’s absurd!” she panted, but he could tell she was churning with lust as she said it.

  “Keep doing that, you’re making me harder,” he teased.

  Instantly, she stopped. Nash gently kissed the sensitive skin below her ears, trailing his lips over her jaw then taking her lips in a demanding kiss. She sighed, surrendering to his attention quickly, and moved closer to the heat and protection of his body. Nash grinned against her mouth, knowing the battle had been won, and began teasing her lips open with his tongue, slipping it inside her sweet mouth. Slowly, seductively, mating their tongues.

  A shiver wormed its way through his body when her moaned ‘yes’ vibrated through his mouth. “So sweet,” he murmured, releasing her lips and moving down along her exquisite body. By now she was purring for him, her hips gently rolling in passion. He took her skirts, bunching them up around her breasts and feasted his eyes on the sweetness of her cleft. A pussy any man would kill to taste, the soft black curls nestled above paradise between silky thighs. The delicate flesh there beckoned him to make her his.

  Nash moved off of her to kneel upon the floor, took a coin in his fingers and trailed it up her legs, over her belly and between her breasts. The cool feel of it on her hot skin must have felt lovely, for she trembled and whimpered ‘yes’ again. He took her legs and put them on his shoulders, but when he dipped to touch her velvety center with his mouth, she struggled to sit up. Unfortunately for her, the drawers held her still. Tentatively, he nuzzled each thigh, and nipped them with his teeth.

  Goosebumps kissed her flesh. Then he moved back, covering her delightful nether lips with his mouth like a hungry man.

  Her thighs quivered around his head as she moaned sweet nothings. Sweet rantings of undeniable capitulation, and he loved every minute of it.

  “Oh, God…I…oh…yes,” she moaned.

  “Yes, you like it, do you not? Let it take you,” he said, his voice husky, moving back to continue his ministrations, lightly raking his teeth across her sensitive bud. When he felt her body grow rigid in readiness for release, Nash pressed his palm on her abdomen, slipped his tongue deep inside her, “Ohhh!” she cried, and let it take her, just as he said.

  Like honey in your tea on a cold winter night. Life had been so cold…until tonight.

  “Peaches,” he murmured. When she giggled, Nash appreciated the glow in her cheeks, the wonder in her eyes. He was also full of wonder. Of how she would be in bed, how her face would look when he slipped himself deep inside.

  How many men were before him? Well, he had to make her forget their names. “Do you like candles?” he asked, drinking in the sight of her blushing body.

  God, he wanted to fuck her hard.

  With patience he did not think he had, Nash crawled onto the bed and straddled her. She nodded to his question, staring at him silently, her expressive eyes painting a canvas of sapphire desire and a hint of uncertainty. It made him wonder where she came from, and for some reason he pictured a magical place draped in silk where courtesans were all like her.

  Black pearl hair, sapphire eyes and acting skills to charm even the Queen.

  Nash unfastened the bodice of her gown and pulled it over her hips and legs, moving fluidly over her body along with the garment. In the next instant, the gown sailed through the air and landed on the floor in a whoosh of silk and satin.

  Her nakedness nearly unmanned him. Round, full breasts rose and fell with each sighing breath. Nipples taut, calling to him to suck the hardened peaks. As if in a trance, Nash placed both hands between the full globes, massaged around them, under them, and moved his thumbs gently over her nipples as he cupped her breasts. She opened her mouth and moaned.

  Dear God, that was all the answer he needed.

  His hands shook like they had never shaken before, moving along her ribs and finally, down to her quivering belly. Sweet delight lay in wait, the texture of perfection. A place where a man—no, only he, could find solace from this lonely world.

  Nash glanced at the candle on the bedside table, burning like a promise. When his eyes connected to hers, a silent question was exchanged.

  What should he do next?

  * * * *

  A short time ago, some strange foreign being swept through her body, stripping away all her defenses, leaving her weak, trembling, and moaning ‘yes.’ It was because of this man, this devil. Freddie shuddered to think what would come next. And for the dear life of her, she could not wait for it to happen.

  Her body seemed to move of its own will when he had parted her thighs and dipped his face and tongue in that area no person had seen, never mind dared to be. He was a rogue. Despicable, downright arrogant, and oh…so blissfully wicked. She blushed, remembering how he kissed the junction between her legs.
How could she not have known what she was getting into coming here?

  She had wanted to scream, it felt so incredible, but Freddie was not a screamer…ever. Unable to tell him of her innocence, she prayed to God he would not notice. Could he? She wondered how such a thing worked. Now was the time to know these things. Sally was probably laughing at her right about now, knowing exactly what would happen to her, and she was fool enough to believe this mission would be easy.

  Freddie closed her eyes, the enormity of emotions causing her heart to pound and her breath to come in short, hard pants. Then as if to taunt her further, the image of the couple in the park came into view. How the woman let her head fall back as she screamed, and the man continued to pump against her bottom until he slowed and he leaned against her, pushing deeply one last time. It was the only education in the ways of the base act she had.

  After a moment she was completely naked…and only a candle burned between them, held in his hand.

  “Sir?” she whispered, gazing into his eyes. The sensual spark she noticed in his gray depths, which now looked nearly silver by the flame, erased her fear of the unknown. She would likely never forget the promise she saw there.

  His grin was devilish. “Yes?”

  “Must I be the only one naked? In all fairness, you should be as well,” she said, smiling shyly. He looked so dangerous. Rugged. It made her blood quicken. Then he moved from the bed to stand beside it, and her eyes grew wide at the sight of his big cock standing proud. She wanted to touch it, caress it, feel the weight of it in her hands. If only he would untie her.

  With efficient, yet impatient movements, he managed to remove his cravat and coat without ripping them apart. And then his trousers slipped to the floor, all barriers gone, and the glorious sight of it all caused her to gasp.

  A body meant for fighting, strong and chiseled, long and lithe. It was simply delicious to look upon. Freddie licked her lips, gazing up his legs, which were gracefully sculpted, lingering longer on the part of him between the thighs and waist which made her center pulse.

  But if his body would not have impressed her, him snapping his fingers and his manhood jumping at attention, surely did. And in a flash of flesh tones, he jumped on the bed, straddling her before she could voice a cry. Just as quickly, he began dripping hot wax from the candle onto her abdomen.

  “What are you…Oh!…Oh…” Freddie closed her eyes, her body rising and shuddering with each drip of the hot wax.

  It was madness, pure, hot madness. His gaze swept over the dribbles of wax now drying on her quivering belly, then up to her eyes. His look was feral. Possessive. Then her captor’s hand began to massage between her legs, making her throb and pulse and become slick with desire. Dear God, it almost caused her to faint.

  She moaned ‘yes’ for the…she did not know how many times, her head rocking side to side. “Please! Oh…please,” she cried, not sure what else she could do but beg him to do something. Never would she have imagined dripping hot wax onto a person’s flesh would be so gratifying. It was wild, and it was her undoing. The dazzling heat exploded inside Freddie, she screamed her release and having no name to bring forth from her lips, burst out with…“Love me!”

  It was dizzying what this man did to her. How his warm lips and tongue pleasured her in a way she never knew existed.

  His commanding touch sent slivers of heat through her body, right to her core. The hot wax, the way he slid his thick cock between her legs, but did not enter her, was simply torture. Pure, exquisite torture. Modesty and morality held no quarter here, all she wanted was to be taken, and taken well by this man. She pushed herself against him, wanting, needing him to command her body.

  * * * *

  Memories sailed through Nash at her words. It all came rushing back, what he said to Marks only an hour past. “I wish for more…lust in my life.” But he had meant Love. This woman, this thief, made him look at her much differently, and he wanted so much more from her than a casual tryst.

  “You are mine…my peach” he murmured, putting the candle back on the stand and leaning down to snuggle into her neck. She leaned into him as well and Nash had a sense of completion unfamiliar to him. He ran his hands down her body, pressing his fingertips against her flesh, feeling her body shudder in excitement. “I have to have you…now,” he whispered. “Hard and fast the first time. Then I promise you, long and slow after that.”

  “Yes…” she moaned, her lips parting for his hot kiss.

  He covered her body with his, felt the soft, wet perfection between her thighs like a welcome home. Reaching round, he firmly gripped her ass and cupped her body to his. As he parted her folds to slip inside her glistening hole, he was taken aback by the barrier of her virginity. He stopped, unable to bring words to his mouth, but when he looked into her eyes, he saw neither shame nor fear.

  “Please,” she whispered. Her loving eyes staring into his soul, grasping his long-hidden heart…and he could do naught but sink inside her sweet, wet haven and give her what they both wanted.

  When her whimper of pain became one of pleasure, he pushed deeper, feeling the walls of her sex squeeze him tightly, pulling him into an unforgettable world of delight and connection only two souls can create. He silently promised them both this was more than just sex.

  “I need…I need,” she panted.

  “What? This?” Nash thrust harder, making her scream out. He watched in awe how her breasts bounced with each hard thrust, and dipped to suckle her hard nipples.

  “I want to touch you. Untie me,” she said at last, writhing her hips to the motion of his.

  Nash did not think twice about it. He wanted her hands on him, wanted her to touch him as greedily as she wanted that gold. He untied her wrists and she reached out to grip his buttocks, moving him harder against her, working her hands up and down his hard back, and he lost himself in the intimate embrace of this woman who broke through the cold barrier of his heart.

  “Yes, my exquisite lady. You are so tight and perfect.” He pulled out, relishing in the beauty of how she pulled him back to fill her again and again. Nash reached around and flipped her onto her stomach.

  She gasped.

  He groaned. Her bottom was perfection. Nash wondered if she would allow him access to that dark place. No, he would not take her there just yet. Instead, with a new relish, he placed his slick cock between her cheeks and glided it back and forth. He watched her fingers grip the bedding, holding on for dear life as he finally entered her from behind. Nash ran his hands up her back, softly kneading her flesh while he pressed into her body and withdrew, repeating the motions.

  Her whole body was a delicious treat. Holding his release at bay was harder than he thought.

  Then it happened again. She stiffened and her glorious shriek resounded in the room. As her walls clenched and fluttered around him, he too gave in and spent himself inside her.

  They had made love just like he threatened. Lying down, standing up, and with her on top. He never experienced such a passionate woman in his arms. He felt utterly captivated by this mysterious and downright beautiful lady, obviously pretending to be a prostitute. But why? Why would she bring herself to this? The thought bothered him more than it should.

  As his peach lay quietly beside him, Nash pressed his face into the shiny black curls of her tangled hair and spooned her.

  He fell asleep feeling the warm swell of her naked ass cheeks against his crotch, and he sighed, satisfied…for now.

  Sometime during the night he stirred, reached over to rouse her for more, only to splay his fingers over empty sheets. She was gone. The wooden box was also gone, he discovered, but that did not bother him so much as how empty he felt inside. Money could be replaced; a woman such as her, could not. Now, as he lay still lusting for her, Nash decided he had to find a way to catch his thief.

  Chapter Five

  “So good to see you again, Sally,” Nash commented, adjusting his crooked cravat after forcing his way through Sally’s door.
As much as he detested coming to this seedy area of London’s East End, he had little choice. Vividly, he remembered how the two women exchanged a look several nights past, so he was certain Sally knew where to find her. He had not slept a wink since the thief escaped him. How she managed to leave without a trace baffled him as well.

  He grimaced at the splinters of wood scattered across the floor, and at the angry marks the broken door had made on her wall. He then looked back at her poised over the kitchen counter. She looked so tired. He studied her for a moment, wondering why he hadn’t noticed how such a trying life had made her into the woman she had become. There were lines under her eyes he never noticed before. Wisps of grey hair were beginning to take over the once vibrant blonde of her youth. Even her fiery green eyes now resembled dried moss.

  He had not taken into consideration Sally’s way of life. Never had a second thought of how she must suffer at the hands of men.

  The sparse scattering of well-worn furniture and blankets separating what must be her bed, were in need of repair. The place was a shack, but she made it feel like a home, and he suddenly felt like a bastard for how he had treated her before.

  Was his peach living like this as well? Did she have to fight for what she had? The thought made him feel worse.

  Sally snorted, interrupting his shameful thoughts. “That’s a bloody line of shite.”

  “Look, can we please put this animosity between us to rest? I apologize for being so callous some years past, but I was just a troublesome buck. I need your help, and I will pay you greatly.”

  “What about my blasted door?” she snapped.

  “Doors can be replaced,” he replied easily. “As a matter of fact, I will secure a better place for you. I owe you that much.”

  Sally narrowed her eyes, but not quickly enough for him not to notice the flash of hope there. “How much better are we talkin’?”

  He stated a ridiculous sum of money that he knew she could not refuse. She could stop selling her body and make something decent of herself, and he knew with her sewing skills, Sally could find work with Mrs. Wilson, the nearest seamstress. He had faith she would do the right thing, and do well.

 

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