He walked through the door and shut it behind himself, leaving her alone in the room. Once he was away from her, the strange tightness in his chest faded. What in the world was the woman about? He could not deduce her thoughts, her motives. She was direct, she questioned, she seemed resigned to her fate, even cheerfully resigned.
And he could not, for the life of him, determine if those many facts were a weapon of war against him or simply character traits naturally belonging to her. Traits he would normally admire…if her family title were not Windbury.
Ava remained on the bed for a few moments after Christian left, simply staring at the door between them. She was…confused.
After all, she had given him what he wanted. Truth be told, she had enjoyed giving her body to him. After so many years out in Society, she had begun to feel a twisting tightness of anticipation and anxiety. She had longed for the intimacy she sometimes saw between the love matches in her circles. She had wondered what she would be missing if she never found a man willing to overlook the issues that made her a spinster.
Now she was freed of those questions. She might never experience love, but passion had been well covered in just one afternoon, with more promised to come.
Yet Christian did not seem pleased with her. In fact, when they interacted he was more uncomfortable than ever.
She rose, wrapping the blanket around herself, and paced the room slowly.
They were very different people, it seemed. He was utterly comfortable when touching her. There was no hesitation then, no anger, no resentment despite who she was. But when they talked, when they made any kind of emotional connection, that was when he squirmed.
“Could that be…power?” she murmured as she pushed the curtain aside and looked out the window to a pretty garden below.
Power. She had never had any in this war between their families. She could beg her brother to stop the madness, she could pray that cooler heads would prevail, but she had never had true control over any of it.
But if she could approach Christian from an emotional point of view, if she could set him off kilter with her reactions to him, with her questions, by becoming closer…perhaps she could finally have a weapon in a war where she was too often nothing more than an innocent victim.
“At the very least, I must try,” she said. “If there is any chance, I must try.”
Behind her, the door opened and she turned to find Christian waiting there for her.
“Your bath,” he said, motioning into the adjoining room. She smiled as she passed him and entered the chamber.
It was, as she had suspected, a dressing area for her own room. She looked around.
“You locked me out of such a benign place,” she said with a light laugh.
He shifted. “I apologize for pushing you into a small space.”
“Then may I use this room, or do I remain confined to that pretty little prison in the other chamber?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and light.
He swallowed hard. “Do you intend to run?”
She blinked. Run. The idea had fleetingly occurred to her at the time of her arrival, but she had pushed it aside as foolish. It seemed no less foolish now, and somewhat less appealing considering their bargain and her enjoyment of it.
“I have very little idea of where I am,” she said. “And if I ran, I assume it would crush the terms of our agreement, putting my brother back into the path of your rage. So, no, I have no intention to attempt escape.”
He stared at her, a hooded glance that was frustratingly unreadable.
“Then you shall not be confined. You may explore this house fully and utilize whatever rooms you wish. Save for my sister’s old chamber, which will remain locked.”
“Thank you,” she said, then looked at the steaming tub with a smile.
“Would you like help stepping in?” he asked, holding out a hand for her.
Her eyes widened. “From you?”
He looked around. “I am the only one present.”
She shivered as she looked at his extended hand. Although he had already performed most intimate acts upon her willing flesh, she still flushed at the thought of dropping the shield of the blanket wrapped around her.
But there was little other choice, so she let it fall. His gaze flitted up and down the length of her body and he shifted as if uncomfortable. She took his hand and stepped into the tub, sinking beneath the water as if it could protect her even though he could see straight through to her body. She swept up the soap and began to lather in the hopes the suds would provide her a little protection.
He shook his head with a stifled laugh, then sat down on a chair beside the tub. She stopped lathering and looked at him.
“You…you are staying?”
He arched a brow. “I certainly am. Surely you did not think our time together would be finished so swiftly.”
She shook her head. “Of course not. I owe you three weeks, and we have only just begun. But I did not think your plans involved watching me wash.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” He tilted his head. “Bathing is a most erotic act, my dear. You have perhaps been asleep until now, but you must see it. Lathering the soap over your skin? Feeling the heat of the water sink into you everywhere, even your most intimate places?”
Her breath caught. Until that moment, she had never thought of the act as anything but innocent. Now every time she touched her own skin, she jumped.
She turned her face, staring at the filmy soap covering her hands and then sucked in a breath. She had to remember her power.
“What I’ve seen of the house is beautiful,” she said, keeping her gaze from his. “And the view of the garden from my window is equally lovely.”
He hesitated for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “Thank you.”
“But this is not one of your normal holdings, is it?” she pressed, daring to peek at him.
His mouth thinned with displeasure and wariness. “You know so much about my business?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Just as I am certain you are aware of every property in my brother’s possession.”
At first he didn’t answer, but since there was no way for him to deny what was obviously the truth, he finally nodded.
“I suppose. You are correct that this isn’t a property many know of. This home was my mother’s. It was left to her by her father and not part of my father’s entail. When she died, my mother passed it to my sister.” His voice grew very soft. “And now it comes to me.”
She gasped at the confession. Her brother likely knew nothing of this house unless he and Matilda had spoken of it during their brief courtship. Clearly Christian had brought her here in part to keep her brother from finding her easily.
And perhaps in part to dole out his punishment in a place where his sister had ties.
“Matilda loved it here.”
She jerked her gaze to him at the soft, pain-filled statement. His face, normally so coldly devoid of emotion, revealed the depth of his loss in that moment. And she ached for him, despite the circumstances in which they found themselves. He looked so utterly…alone.
“Christian,” she began, but he flinched and pushed to his feet with a screech of the chair that silenced her.
“Enough of this foolishness,” he murmured, though if he spoke to her or to himself, she could not tell. “We are not here to become confidantes, Ava. I do not want your pity or your false condolences. We are here for a payment of a debt, and that is what I demand.”
He cupped the back of her head and dragged her through the water to slam his mouth to hers with a passion and a fever that could not hide his anger and frustration. She wanted to pull away, but she didn’t. She opened to him without hesitation and allowed him to pour his raw emotions into her body, just as he would pour his desire in a short while.
When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily and there was a wild need in his eyes that made her body quiver with anticipation. He was going to have her.
&
nbsp; But to her surprise, he retook his chair rather than stripping down to join her or demanding she leave the warm tub.
“You were innocent,” he managed through clenched teeth. “And from your words and actions, I believe that means innocent even to yourself. Am I wrong?”
She shook her head, too stunned by the power of his sensual attack and the unexpected end to it. “I—I don’t understand.”
“I mean, did you ever touch yourself? Did you ever obtain pleasure by your own hand like the kind I gave to you today?”
“No,” she said with a blush. “I have never felt anything like that before.”
He smiled, slow and seductive. “Do it now.”
Ava stared at him, not fully comprehending. “What?”
“You heard me,” he growled. “I want you to touch yourself, under my direction. I want to see you make yourself come.”
Chapter Ten
The emotions boiling within Christian were wild and unruly. In fact, he had never felt this way before. He wanted to control this woman, possess her. He wanted to see her fall at his feet and surrender everything she was and everything she would ever be.
But for pleasure more than revenge.
She stared at him for almost the full count of a minute and then swallowed. “How?”
He arched a brow. Once again, she surprised him with her reaction. She was willing to please him, to open herself to his ministrations with little more than a nervous expression.
He leaned closer. She had soaped her body and the water was cloudy, but he could still see hints of her curves, slick and pink from the heat of the bath.
“Where I kissed you,” he began.
“My pussy, you called it,” she interrupted.
He jolted at her use of the vulgar term. Coming from her refined lips, it made him hard as granite almost immediately.
“Yes,” he managed, his voice cracking. “That’s right. The way I licked you is how you should touch yourself. You’re so responsive that once you start, your instincts should take over fairly quickly.”
“And watching this will please you?” she asked, her voice so low it hardly carried despite how close he was.
“It will,” he murmured. “And you will be pleased by it too. Not just because you will likely come, but because you will know you arouse your lover. You will be able to watch as I enjoy and endure your pleasure. Oh yes, there is something very wicked in that act.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out a broken sigh that he could not determine was from shame or pleasure. Her hand lifted, uncertain, and she placed it against her breast right at the surface of the water. He stared, almost unable to breathe, as she smoothed her palm over the swell, then lightly pinched her nipple.
It seemed her anxiety faded a bit when his assertion that she would enjoy the act as much as he did was proven true. Her second sigh was only filled with pleasure, and she swirled her thumb around the nipple of her right breast with increasing speed and pressure.
“Now lower,” he urged her, shifting in his seat to accommodate his swollen cock.
She opened her eyes just the slightest bit and peered at him through the slivers. Her cheeks pinkened further as she shut them again. She glided her fingers below the surface and he caught a glimpse of her hand as it covered the soft mound of her sex.
“Stroke and explore,” he encouraged her, his voice shaking. “Allow yourself to feel and remember what I did to make you come so powerfully.”
She shuddered as her hand began to move beneath the water. Slowly at first, but as she found places where her touch brought her pleasure, her fingers worked faster. He stared at her through the water, her sex flashing into view and disappearing beneath her hand as she stroked herself, increasing the pleasure, decreasing it. Doing everything in her power to find release.
When she came, her back arched against the slick tub side and she grunted out a muffled sound of pleasure before she went weak.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
She opened her eyes, her cheeks now flaming red. “Yes?”
“Tell me about it,” he said, soft.
“My…my…”
“Your slit,” he helped her, providing her with a new word to call her sex.
“It was…h-hot to the touch and—and wet beyond what I would expect to find merely from the bath water,” she said. “Touching it excited me as well as embarrassed me.”
He shook his head. “Your pleasure should never be an embarrassment, Ava.”
She shrugged. “But as a lady, I wasn’t raised to seek it, rather to repress it.”
“A great waste considering your responsiveness,” he muttered. “But go on. Tell me more.”
“I felt your eyes on me, even when I had mine shut,” she continued. “I imagined you enjoying watching me come, just as you said I should.”
“And when you did?”
“It was powerful, though not as intense as when you stroked me with your tongue or filled me with your…”
“Cock,” he helped her. He took her wet hand in his and set it against his trousers so she felt the straining thrust of muscle beneath the fabric. “And it rages to be inside you even now.”
She held still for a moment, then closed her fingers around the hardness, stroking him gently.
“Why deny yourself that pleasure then, Your Grace?” she asked. She released him to rise from the tub in one smooth motion.
He stared up at her, glistening like some kind of water nymph and offering herself without hesitation. He grabbed a towel from the stand beside the tub and handed it to her.
“Come back to the bedroom,” he ordered and turned to walk away from her.
He moved to the bed, but didn’t lie down on it. He had something different in mind as she padded in behind him on bare feet. When he turned to look at her, she was wrapped haphazardly in the towel, watching him with both excitement and worry.
It seemed that was to be her permanent expression while she stayed with him. Not that he could entirely blame her for the fact that she was both titillated and concerned.
He reached out and grabbed the edge of the towel, tossing it aside without thought. She smiled.
“Christian, I’m still wet,” she said with a light laugh that sounded like music.
“Oh, I can make you wetter.”
He caught her around the waist, feeling the warmth of her damp skin against his hand, through his shirt. He kissed her, driving his tongue into her mouth as he tugged her flush against his body. She moaned her approval, and her arms came up around his neck. For a while, she stood there, surrendering to his kiss, allowing him to dominate.
But then, so slowly he almost didn’t notice it, she began to gently stroke his shoulders. The act wasn’t one of erotic desire, though—no, it was of…comfort.
He pulled away, staring at her for a moment. Her wet hair tangled around her face, her blue eyes were lifted to look at him, holding him hostage, utterly open and almost welcoming even under the circumstances.
She hesitated and then her fingers lifted, finding the top button of his shirt and beginning to unfasten it. He jolted back immediately and almost put her on her backside in his haste to escape her attempt to reveal his body.
“I—I’m sorry,” she murmured, blushing furiously and dropping her gaze away to the floor. “I only thought—”
She broke her explanation off and shook her head. Not that she had to continue. Of course she would think it was right to disrobe him. She was naked; plainly, he should be naked as well. And how he would love to feel the full length of her body against his.
Only he wouldn’t. The accident had scarred his body in ways he might never again allow another person to see. Certainly, the first person would not be Ava, the sister of the man who had murdered his sister and maimed him. He would not allow her to go back to her brother and give him something to crow about.
“Turn around,” he croaked. “With your back to me.”
Her eyes flitted up, looking at him
for a moment. Then she slowly did as he asked, facing the bed, her back to him. He stifled a groan as he looked at her from this angle. She was all curves, all soft skin and flowing dark hair. When she peeked over her shoulder…great God, it was nearly too much.
“Bend over the bed,” he forced himself to choke out past his desire. “Brace yourself on it.”
She hesitated, but did not question him as she maneuvered herself into the position he had described. He barely held back a groan. From behind her, he could just see the pink and pouting lips of her sex, the slick heat she had created with her masturbation in his tub.
He moved on her, curling his fully clothed body around hers to cup her breasts. She gasped and her backside arched against him, rubbing his hard cock through his trousers until he couldn’t help the low, needy moan that broke from his lips and echoed in the room around them.
He began to rock against her, rubbing, pushing, feeling her heat even through the fabric that separated them. She met his rhythm perfectly, gripping the coverlet in her hands as she pushed back against him, welcoming the invasion that would soon come.
It was all too much, and he reached down to free his cock from his trousers. Leaving the rest of his clothing on, he positioned the hard length at her entrance. Burning heat poured from her body, welcoming him in, making him forget any pain in his body as he moved in to breach her.
She tensed as he entered her body, but as he gently moved forward, she relaxed.
“You are right, there is no pain with this joining,” she panted as she pushed back and accepted him in even farther. “Oh God, only pleasure.”
Her moaned words inflamed him, and he drove forward to fully seat himself in her flesh. She cried out, not in pain, but in desire. Her sex flexed around him, welcoming him. Her heat, her feel, the way she fit around him like a glove was all too much and he began to drive into her, hard and fast. There was no finesse to this taking, just a need to explode, a need for blinding release that would erase all other sensations in his life and mind.
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