Ariel let out a breath she didn't know she'd held. Anna came to where she stood. "You must go home and rest now. I'm having a special carriage brought out to take Gina back to be cared for once the doctor is through with her. The innkeeper's eldest daughter shall accompany her and stay the night, and someone will fetch her in the morning. Richard, you and I will be going back in my carriage."
A wave of gratitude and love for Anna and Richard swept through her. "You really are wonderful people. Oh. My lady," she added.
Anna's laughter filled the dining area. "Come now. Richard will follow soon as that John fellow is safely stowed away in the magistrate's carriage."
True to her predictions, Richard didn't take long. He sat next to Ariel and took her under the crook of his arm. "You were magnificent out there," he murmured.
"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you."
"Yes, we make quite a team."
"Don't we just." Sleepily, she relaxed into him, the position as natural as breathing. She wanted to laugh at herself. She had no idea how much of her speech patterns were changed from her stay versus how much were already that way from all the British television she watched. Didn't matter. Hopefully, no one noticed her mixed up accents and phrases too much anymore.
She closed her eyes, intending only to rest them, but fell asleep.
Chapter Six
Lord Richard stared down at her. He'd love to be the one to stir up and then channel that passion he saw flare in defense of Gina. With great gentleness, he stroked her hair. From their talks, it was obvious to him that no one had ever stood up for her the way she had for Gina, a complete stranger. Part of him seethed at the lack of protection afforded her by her parents and husband in her own time. Another part understood it helped his cause.
Though Ariel and he had fought on the occasion, they'd been mostly unmemorable. Usually one or the other changed their mind or they agreed to disagree. The only thing they hadn't been able to reach a proper agreement for was to her staying in his time the rest of her life.
One of the things he loved about her—her love for her kids—would be what took her away, if anything did. She looked upon this time as an interlude, one that would end when she returned to her own time in nearly the same when that she left it. At least, that seemed to be how it worked from what he learned during the letter exchange with Bethany. Time moved slower in the future than the past did around the portal. Perhaps because the past already happened?
His heart clenched at the thought of losing her, a woman with such life in her who appreciated the little things and that he took care of his people, instead of resenting the time and money spent making the cottagers' lives more comfortable and bearable. She helped him in so many ways. Didn't she see how she was already his partner? That she belonged in his time, with him? How could he convince her mother's heart? The sway of the horses gave him small comfort and no answers.
He fingered the ring in his vest coat. He'd planned on asking her to marry him, but they'd encountered that blackguard of a man instead. He sighed deeply, then brightened. He could still ask her. She didn't need fancy dinners and flowers to be proposed to, especially when she learned he'd changed plans for the sake of Gina's predicament. The carriage pulled up to his mansion, and he helped his mother down first. He reached for Ariel, holding her hand as she descended.
In her sleepy state, she fell against him when her gown caught on the bottom step. "I have you," he said gently, setting her down and steadying her. "Come, ladies. Mother, you will obviously stay in your regular rooms. I sent a runner ahead, so you should also have a bath ready, such as it is."
"Thank you, Richard. You always think of the small things. So much like your father that way."
"A bath sounds heavenly," Ariel spoke up sleepily. "Mind you, I'm not sure I could stay awake long enough to take one, but it still sounds good."
"Hush, my dear. You'll be fine. Goodnight, Mother. Sleep well. Thank you for coming."
"I'm damned fine proud to have a son and friend who would need my help in such a matter. We will talk more of it later. Goodnight, my dears." She turned to the servant who'd showed up as she spoke. "Take me to my rooms and bring me water and mead, please. And a crust of bread, if you have it handy. I'm famished."
Richard watched his mother and assured himself she was doing fine, then pulled Ariel with him. He had a bath ready in his room—for the both of them. Providing she let him, of course. As a supposed widow, she did have certain…allowances…among society, and he hoped to convince her to take advantage of one of them.
They walked in companionable silence to his room, and he gently pushed on the small of her back to get her to go in first. The flickering reflection of warm yellow light on the wall told him the servants had lit the candles as asked.
"Where is this? This isn't my room."
"It's mine."
"Right, of course. Silly me. I'm sorry. I'll leave you now and head to my rooms."
"You're welcome to, of course, but I'd rather you didn't. I'd hoped you'd stay the night with me." He watched her face carefully. The flash of joy then desire on her face relieved him as well as excited him.
"I'd love to," she replied, her voice husky.
He took her in to his arms, shutting the door behind her. With a groan, he gave in to the desire to kiss her deeply, taking his time. This night, he wouldn't have to leave her at her door, wanting to do so much more. This night, he would treasure her, show her his love with his hands and mouth.
Her hands came up around his neck, playing with his hair and holding him close as their tongues met in a slow duel. He put one hand behind her and held her close, pushing his erection into her.—as much as he could with all the damn layers she wore. Way too many of them for his plans. With deft fingers, he began to unlace her. Her moans against his mouth encouraged him that she wanted it as much as he did. With swiftness, he divested her of the dress, then followed with her undergarments.
She stood there, panting and staring at him as if he'd hung the stars and the moon. "I've never wanted someone as much as I want you right now. But I can't help but notice you're still wearing all of your clothes."
He laughed and pulled her back against him, giving her bottom a swift spank. "You little minx."
He swatted her again, and she cried out. "Did that hurt, my love?"
"No, not really. It's…different. I've been spanked before, but…"
"But?"
"It feels different when you do it. You're more…something here in your room."
"I am as I always am. Lord of my lands, king of my castle."
He saw her breath hitch. "Are you…dominant in bed, then?"
"Yes. Is that going to be a problem?"
"I hope not, but…" She bit her lip.
"Out with it. Do you not trust me?"
"Oh, I do. More than I could have imagined a few months ago. But I've never…I've been hurt. I don't know how much I can do."
Anger exploded in him as he thought of what she had to have endured in her life, but his hand remained gentle as he cupped her face. "Did no one ever protect you, my love? Did no one ever come to your rescue and slay those dragons?"
She shook her head, tears swimming in her eyes, making them appear greener than the hills in springtime. He gently kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. "I promise to protect you always, to help you slay your dragon, to honor and cherish you above all others until death do us part."
Flummoxed, he pulled her into his arms as she wept like the world ended. "No one's ever said those words, meant them," she said in between sobs. "Please don't say them, don't show me the possibilities if you can't give them in truth. I've been hurt too many times. I'd break if you broke those sorts of promises. Just. I love you."
His heart began beating so rapidly. She loved him! "I love you too, heart of my soul. Will you marry me?" Bloody hell, where'd that come from? He'd meant to wait until they were bathed, et cetera.
"Yes. I don't know h
ow long I can stay here, but if you're willing to accept me, warts and all, I'm willing to give you all that I am, all that I have, heart, soul, and property."
He grinned so hard, his cheeks hurt. "You've made me very happy. Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled the ring out. "I'd planned on asking you amidst flowers and a sumptuous meal after showing you the rest of my lands and telling you all I could offer you."
"It's beautiful," she said in a breathy voice and reached out to touch the diamonds and emeralds on it. She held up her hand for him to put the ring on it. "I want you. The rest is nice, and I love how you care for your people. But you, your honor, your heart, that is why I've fallen in love with you."
He kissed her again and led her to the bath, having her step in. He washed her hair with the herb stuff his mother made specifically for that purpose, careful to untangle each strand as he went. Then he picked up a cloth, washing off the dust and dirt. He held his fingers over her lips when she tried to speak. "Shhh. This is for you. I am master, but that means I take care of you, so let me."
When finished, he held up a large towel for her, then undressed himself. "Now, your turn to do for me as I did for you. However, before we go much further, we need a safe word and to go over a few rules. First of all, you can say no to anything, and I will not think of less of you. Second, you must tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable."
"I—I think I can do that," she said, as she put some of the hair cleaner on her hands.
"Good. There will be others, I'll teach you as we go. But there is one more thing. We need a safe word. Something you wouldn't normally say. If you say it, sex stops, and we cuddle and talk until you're feeling better."
"Um, okay. How about…iguana."
He laughed as she scrubbed on his hair. "Fair enough. I'm not likely to say iguana during such a time." A groan escaped him as she finished his hair and swept her hands down his body with the herbal scent wafting up to him. His erection hardened to point of pain. He guided her hand down and folded her fingers around his cock and grasped it with her.
She stroked him up and down, the water lapping against the metal tub as her movements became more vigorous. His hips arched into her palm. God, it felt so good to finally have her. Everything in him seemed to be centered at the base of his cock, wanting, waiting to explode. With great care, he pulled her fingers away. "Hand me a towel," he whispered.
A half smile, full of smugness, slid across her face. "My pleasure," she said, handing him the towel.
He stood up, enjoying the sight of her rosy nipples hardened in the cool air, water droplets glistening here and there on her body. The back drop of his canopied bed's curtains combined with her beauty made her appear as if she'd stepped out of a rococo era painting.
He sucked in his breath at her beauty. "God, you're beautiful."
"I'm really not. I'm glad you think so, but childbearing and years are taking their toll. You're the one who is beautiful."
With a swift movement, he stepped forward, letting the towel drop, and swung her up in his arms. "You are beautiful. If your lord says you are, then you may believe it." He tossed her on the bed. "If you disagree with me again about your beauty, you will be punished. Is that clear?"
Her shy smile answered him, but it was the cheeky response that had him gripping for control of his lusts.
"And what if I want to be punished?"
He groaned and slid onto the bed with her. "Then I shall have to oblige."
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her hard. With one hand, he traced down the side of her breasts, down her stomach, to her clit, gently probing.
Her hips bucked under his hands, and she gasped, breaking the kiss. "Richard," she said.
He applied more pressure, circling the nub. "Yes?"
"I…can't…breathe."
Her hands clasped his shoulders, the nails digging in as an orgasm swept through her. Her lips made an O and her eyes widened before shutting again. It surprised her nearly as much as it did him. Her passion pleased him greatly. Also, he believed her letting herself go like this showed how much she trusted him. When her orgasm started to recede, he pulled her in close.
"Before we go any further, I need to know if you're okay with me being rough sometimes." He watched her carefully to gauge her reactions.
"I am inexperienced with what I think you're asking," she said carefully. Was she okay with it? "I do know I want to explore what that means with you. I want it to be you that teaches me what I like or don't like. It's you that I feel safe to explore this avenue with even though I'm not sure I'll like it. Is that enough?" God, she hoped it was. Her orgasm came so quickly, she couldn't begin to imagine what more of his expertise would bring them for the night, but God help her, she wanted to try it all out, despite the fear that warred in her because of her past.
He kissed her temple while stroking the side of her face. "It's amazing. With the abuse you've suffered in the past, I understand the huge trust you're placing on me. I hope to be worthy of it."
They kissed more, him tweaking her nipples, each time harder and harder. Her body felt as tightly sprung as a spring that's been crushed down, waiting. When he stopped, a cry of denial left her.
"I'm getting some things. We will go slow and explore what you like."
It didn't take him long before he crawled back into bed with her, setting a few items down beside her. Anxiety and anticipation built as he stroked her and soothed her. He slid the silk ropes across her skin, sending shivers of delight and fear through her.
"I don't know if I can." Barely a whisper, her voice still reached him.
"Do you need me to stop?"
She shook her head but kept her lashes lowered, hiding the pain, worry of the past that tried to insinuate itself into her—no, their—pleasure. She'd tried before with someone else and couldn't, a failed attempt of hers to partake in her open marriage.
He took her face in his hands, the ties soft, draping down, teasing her nipples, and that rush of sensual excitement warred with the fear.
She felt the heat of his breath against her lips and opened her eyes in surprise. When her eyes looked to him, he asked, "Do you trust me?"
Her whole being shouted yes, but she could only nod.
"Say it," he ordered in that commanding voice that never failed to thrill her.
Her stomach clenched in excitement. "Yes, I trust you."
He gently laid her back. The pillows enveloped her, as if to welcome her to a world of sensual delight. He stroked the ropes across her body, tickling, teasing, heightening her awareness of him. She put a hand on his face, running a thumb across the lips that had kissed her so thoroughly a few minutes earlier. He took her hand, kissed her fingers, then wrapped the ties around her wrist, tugging to test it. Slowly, his gaze never leaving hers, he attached the rope to the bed. He lifted her other wrist and repeated the process.
Though part of her remained afraid, intense need streaked through her in a sudden rush, and her juices flowed. The knowing smile he gave her told her he noticed. There were still ropes in his hands, but he didn't reach for her legs as she expected.
He leaned over to the wood table by the bed and picked up a long piece of cloth. "I want you to have this on now," he told her as he bent over her.
Her mouth went dry, but all she asked was, "Why?"
"I want you to use your other senses. Focus on my touch. Let my touch pleasure you."
"Pleasure me much more and the whole world will be able to tell by my vocal approval." Her defense, as always. Make a truthful joke about her feelings. But he wasn't fooled. He stared at her until she added, "Part of me will be scared to death until we've...I don't know until. But all of me wants this, wants the pleasure. Please," she begged, not sure what else to say. All she knew was she wanted him to do it. Trusted him.
He tied the blindfold on. Her chest tightened and breathing quickened, scared to her toes as old memories tried to force their way to the present.
He cupped her b
reast. "I'm here. It's me."
His touch, his voice, dispelled the haunting memories to the past, leaving only him. He kissed her and then trailed his hands down.
She was embarrassed at her stretch marks and scars, suddenly glad she couldn't watch. But his hands rubbed and caressed, then moved to her left leg. She heard the rustle of his clothes and the creak of the bed as he moved away from her.
Her breath hitched, but he rubbed a hand down her shin before twining the rope around first one leg and tying it to the bed, repeating the process on the other. The scent of the vanilla candle slowly penetrated her consciousness. She again heard the rustle of his clothes before the mattress lowered as he retook his position next to her.
Not being able to see him shoved everything else out as her mind, her body, her soul searched for him. His heat radiated off him, the earthy scent of him rising, seeping into her being, even as his energy penetrated everything.
Her whole body was wired, waiting to be touched. She gasped when his breath caressed her cheek. "Are you ready?"
A whimper escaped her as sensual need of him overtook all else. "Please," she begged again. "Please."
His hand again closed on her breast, and he squeezed the nipples with his thumb and forefinger. Pleasure shot through her, and her clit wanted to be touched again.
Like he could read her mind, he trailed his hands down to her clit, rubbing, stroking, circling. Round and round, his thumb went. She no longer thought, only felt. His mouth came down hard on her nipples, and then he bit it while at the same time dipping a finger into her folds. He licked at the bite and kept moving his finger.
A scream of pleasure left her mouth before she'd even begun to process what he was doing. She had no idea how long he alternated the biting and licking over her body. She'd become a mass of wanton pleasure. Then he stopped and settled between her legs, and the fear returned.
"Richard?"
He immediately stilled, and that calmed some of her fear. "What is it, my love?"
Under the Mask: A Multi-Genre Collection Page 27