by Alyson Chase
The headboard bounced against the wall. “No!” She glared at him as he drew his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. “Why did you stop? I was almost there.”
“I know.” He unbuttoned the falls of his trousers and pushed them down his hips along with his smallclothes. His length sprang free, ruddy and thick. A bead of liquid hovered at the tip, and Amanda’s mouth watered. “I want you to come impaled on my cock. Nothing feels better than your sweet cunny clamping down on me.” Leaning over, he grabbed a cloth pouch and pulled out a folded piece of linen. His eyes fixed on her core, he slowly stroked his fist from the base of his column to the crown. He rubbed his palm over the head, gathering the moisture beaded there, and eased his hand back down to the root.
She ached to be the one stroking his length. To use her mouth on him as he had on her. His manhood was a thing of beauty, thick and long, and pulsing with restrained power.
“Would it speed this process along if I told you that I didn’t follow your man in vain?” She ran her foot along the calf of his trousers, needing to touch him in any way she could. “I saw the carriage he entered. It had a coat of arms on it. One I’d recognize again.”
Julius froze. His gaze landed on her face. “Are you certain?”
She nodded and arched her back. “Do I get my reward now?”
“I’d say we both do.” With quick motions, Julius slid the linen over his length and tied a knot at the base. He scooped his arms under her legs, and the back of her knees rested on his elbows. Julius crawled forward, his crown nudging her folds.
Amanda nodded to his groin. “Must you wear that? I’d like to feel you, not some paper.”
“It keeps us healthy and it prevents against the consequence of offspring.” Julius eased in an inch, slipped out. “For me, there is no other alternative.”
Amanda tried to widen her legs, but Julius’s grip blocked her. The knots he’d tied in the rope pressed into the crease of her legs and hips, and she bit her lip.
Closing his eyes, he pushed into her body, filling the emptiness. “God’s teeth, you feel good.”
“So do you.” Amanda raised her pelvis into his next slide, felt every inch of him as he drove past her clutching muscles. The linen was stiff, but she could still feel the heat rolling off of Julius. Feel his unyielding power.
Her breath hitched. Without the linen, how much hotter would he feel? What would it be like to have that velvety skin slide into her body? She couldn’t help but feel regret.
“We’re both about to feel a whole lot better.” He shifted her legs higher up his arms, and with his next thrust, leaned forward until his hands were planted near her shoulders and her knees were by her ears.
The rope around her legs went taut, and the knots in the crease of each hip stabbed into her flesh. She jerked, went rigid as stone as fire licked from the source of the knots to every muscle in her body. Her mind couldn’t decide if the sensations were painful or not, only knew they were almost too intense to bear. Julius eased his hips back, dragging from her body, and easing the pressure on the knots. Her body collapsed into the bed, relieved. Until he pounded back home and the ropes went taut.
Her mouth opened and closed, not even air able to escape.
Julius leaned down and softly kissed her. “As I said, I know every place on the body that, with the right pressure applied, can bring extreme pleasure.”
Pleasure? Was that what she was feeling? She felt each thrust everywhere, from the tips of her breasts to the pads of her toes. That aching, burning sensation flooded her every pore. She didn’t know whether she wanted to demand more or beg him to stop.
If her body was made up of meridian lines, then Julius had mapped each and every inch of her. She writhed beneath him, and every time the knots dug into the front of her hips, her body shuddered in ecstasy.
Or was it agony? The shock from the meridian points was too much. His cock tunneling in and out of her body was sensation enough. But with those knots …. The skin under the hemp began to burn. The torment spread, until her hips, her core, her stomach, all became as responsive as her meridian points.
She whimpered. “Please, Julius. Oh God, please.”
He pounded harder, faster. He dropped his gaze to where his body tunneled into hers and groaned. His dark hair curled over the top of the linen, shiny from her essence. The muscles of his lower abdomen clenched with each thrust.
Amanda whimpered and yanked at her wrists. The need to touch him was overwhelming.
The pace increased. The knots in her hips sent out short bursts, flaring like lightning. Her breath seized in her lungs. Arching her neck, she tried to suck down air. Black dots swam before her eyes. She wrapped her hands around the rope at her wrists and heaved with all her might, trying to escape the feelings, trying to bring the bed down on top of them, trying to find relief. Sweat beaded across her body, and for the first time in years, she wanted a window open. A cool breeze caressing her skin. Anything to put out the fire.
Skin slapped against skin. Julius’s soft grunts filled the room. Jaw tight, Julius lowered himself further and ground his hips into hers. The skin under the knots felt like it was crawling with ants, the pressure never ending. Her body clutched once, twice at the thick length inside.
Bending his head, Julius sucked one aching nipple into his mouth, and pulled.
And like fireworks over Vauxhall Gardens, she exploded into a thousand scorching pieces. His teeth scraping across her breast, his short, prickly hair rubbing against her clit, it all merged with the sparks still shooting from the knots, and her body twisted and bucked beneath Julius, out of her control. Only the ropes held her together.
Julius groaned in her ear, his cock twitching inside her channel. “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered and collapsed to her side.
One of her legs was underneath him, but the pressure of the rope had eased. Amanda managed to catch her breath but could do nothing to stop the tremors wracking her body.
In all her years, she’d felt nothing like that.
After several minutes, her mind cleared enough to form words. “Oh my.”
He rolled over and brushed his mouth against hers, nibbling at her lower lip. He tugged on the rope at her waist. “I thought you’d enjoy that.” He freed her wrists.
Enjoy didn’t even come close. “I don’t believe I’ll be able to move for a sennight.”
“Good. When you move, you get into trouble.” They stared at the canopy for moments more, Julius grazing the back of her hand with his finger. “Amanda …”
“Yes?”
“We should talk.”
Why did that not sound promising?
“I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us,” Julius began. “About the future.”
Her stomach cramped, and all the muscles that had become so delightfully loose, stiffened. “What future?” Her voice sounded as dead as she felt. She knew where Julius was going with this, and frankly, didn’t need to hear it. She was under no misconceptions.
He was quiet a minute. “After … well, after I became Rothchild, I came to understand things about myself. One of those was the fact that I’ll never marry. I’m not suited for it.”
She turned her head and stared at him, incredulous. “You’re an earl. Of course, you’ll marry.” It wouldn’t be to someone like her, and she understood that.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “No. The house of Rothchild ends with me. I’ll not be eternally bound, not even to save the earldom.”
“But”—she rolled up onto one elbow and gazed down at him—“you have to have an heir. You’re an earl,” she repeated.
He snorted. “And would the world end if I died without issue? Would the walls of my Thornburg Hall crumble to dust?” He picked up a lock of her hair and twisted it around his finger. “When I came back to that estate and learned my brothers were dead, found my father close to it himself, everyone said how fortunate it was that I had lived. At least there was one male left to carry on t
he name. And I asked, why? Why would it be so bad if a Blackwell no longer carried the title? There must be a second cousin lazing about somewhere who would pick up the mantle.”
Amanda chewed on the inside of her cheek. “But isn’t it the duty of every gentleman to …”
“Sire an army of children to propagate the English race?” He shook his head. “I’ve learned to pick and choose my duties. Babies, a wife, they’re all tentacles that strangle a man. I won’t be trapped again. Not for anything.”
Or anyone, Amanda thought. She lay back. Her heart broke, just a little, for the man beside her. His future looked as bleak and empty as hers. Only Julius was condemning himself to that fate.
She forced a smile on her face. “Thank you for trying to let me down gently, but I assure you, the idea of matrimony never once crossed my mind.” And it hadn’t. She’d have been a fool to think anything else. “I stand by our original arrangement. A mutually beneficial affair of pleasure. No expectations. No regrets.”
Leaning over, he kissed her on the nose. “Good. Glad to hear it.”
“Just … before you leave to sleep wherever it is that you do, could you hold me for a bit?” She’d grown accustomed to falling asleep with Julius by her side. And to waking up alone. Instead of kicking her from his bed, he found another spot to lay his head. She hated that he couldn’t even share the bed with her the entire night through. But she was beginning to understand it. Understand him. And she counted herself fortunate that they had this time together.
“Sleep?” One edge of Julius’s mouth curled up, a devilish glint shining in his eyes. “Who said anything about sleep? I’m not done with you yet.” He rolled over and stretched for the foot of the bed. Digging in his chest, he pulled out a jade and some oil.
Suddenly, parts of Amanda felt wide awake indeed.
Chapter Twelve
“I think you’re wrong.” Julius frowned at her, his hands on his hips.
Amanda sighed. That seemed to be a recurring theme this morning. “I know. You’ve said that before. Many times. But you aren’t going to change my mind.”
“What is the good of arguing with someone if he doesn’t even know who he’s arguing against?” He paced to the window, and Reggie pounced on his boot. Julius plucked a short bit of rope from the shelf of the library’s bookcase and waggled it in front of the dog’s nose. Amanda’s heart melted. For a man who disclaimed any interest in the pup, Julius seemed most accommodating to Reggie’s needs.
Julius looked up at her. “Well?”
Amanda stared at the signature at the bottom of her parchment. It was her handwriting, but not her name. No one would listen to Miss Amanda Wilcox. She was a woman, and a disgraced one at that. But a Mr. A. Wilson? That name sounded strong.
She folded the four pages into three equal sections and tucked the papers into an envelope. “I’m not arguing with anyone. I wrote an opinion piece for The Times. I dispute the Marquess of Hanford on several key points regarding his stance on capital punishment. He is free to disagree.” Carefully penning the name of the editor on the front of the envelope, Amanda blew on the wet ink.
And her mind flashed back to a very naughty place.
Cheeks warm, she held the envelope out to Julius. “Will you see that this is delivered?”
“If you sign your own name to it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Obscuring your identity is just another form of hiding.”
“I thought you approved of my hiding. Something about it keeping me out of trouble.”
“That was last night.” He set his jaw. “You’d just scared the dickens out of me.”
Amanda kept quiet, and kept her arm out. She had patience, too.
“Fine.” Julius blew out a lusty breath. He snatched the envelope from her hand. “But only if you ride with me in the carriage.” She opened her mouth to object, but he was faster. “Just ride in the carriage. With the curtains drawn. Most of the way. I will only ride to the newspaper if you are sitting next to me.”
“That’s blackmail.” Amanda rubbed her palms against her skirts. “Earls don’t stoop to such lengths.”
He snorted. “We’re the worst of the bunch. Now, how badly do you want this delivered?”
“I can have Carter send it.”
“Not if I tell him not to.” Julius raised a dark brow.
He didn’t know how right he was. Carter would be only too happy to deny her a service. She looked at the envelope dangling from his fingers, then at the morning paper. How she wanted her voice heard, in a paper she respected. She looked out the window, her heart tripping in her chest.
Did she dare? Her excursion last night hadn’t ended well. But if she didn’t have to leave the carriage …
“All right. I’ll do it.”
Julius beamed, looking much too smug with himself by half. Reggie pounced on his boot, and Julius shook him off.
“But Reggie comes, too.” Hearing his name, the dog trotted over to her, and Amanda scooped him up. “He’s someone I trust to protect me.”
Julius gaped in outrage.
Biting back a smile, Amanda jumped to her feet.
“Shall we go?” If she was going to do something so foolish, she wanted it done fast. The sooner done, the sooner ended.
“Fine.” He slid the envelope into his coat pocket. “Go get a wrap and bonnet, and I’ll have the carriage sent around.”
She hurried up the stairs, her body a ball of nervous energy. She pulled her spencer from the armoire and stared into the empty space in the corner. She could crawl in there. Curl up. It was quite comfortable. Snug really. Julius wouldn’t drag her out of there, kicking and screaming. Probably.
But did she want to be the type of woman who hid among her gowns? She smoothed her hands down the spencer and turned for the hall. Reggie bit the hem of her skirts and waddled backwards, halting her progress. She tugged her gown free. “You’re coming, too.” She walked to the top of the steps and stared down at the front door. Reggie rushed past her and tumbled down the stairs. His legs slid out from under him on the last step, and he flipped head over paws into the foyer. He popped up at the bottom and trotted to the door, head held high.
Amanda chuckled, and the laughter eased her way down the steps.
Lady Mary clapped her hands together from the entrance of the sitting room. “Marvelous recovery, Reginald.” She glanced curiously at Amanda’s spencer. “Are you going somewhere, my dear?”
“Julius is driving me to The Times.” Amanda tugged on a pair of gloves. “If you’d like to accompany us, I’m sure there will be room in the carriage.”
“It’s too cold for me today.” The older woman gave a delicate shiver. “But you two go and enjoy yourselves.”
Amanda stared at the footman waiting to open the front door and back at Lady Mary. The woman was supposed to act as chaperone. Would it harm Julius’s reputation if he were seen accompanying her unattended? She sniffed, and shook her head at her own folly. It was never the man’s reputation that was harmed. And hers couldn’t be sullied any further.
There was nothing for it but to gird her loins and venture outside. “Come, Reggie.” His solid presence at her side gave her some small solace as she walked through the entry and into the bright afternoon sun. Her feet hardly faltered as she took the steps down to the curb.
Julius opened the carriage door for her, earning a minuscule frown from the footman. Reggie leapt up as if riding in the carriage of a duke was his due. Amanda let Julius hand her in more slowly.
She slid across the seat and made sure the curtain completely covered the window. The carriage rocked as Julius settled in beside her. With a crack of a whip, they jolted forward.
Amanda held her breath, waiting for disaster to strike. Any moment now …
“There’s still time to change your signature.” Julius picked Reggie up from the seat between them and plopped him down across the way. He slid closer, his thigh nudging hers. “I can have a man bring us a pen when we arrive—”<
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“No, thank you.” Amanda rubbed her cheek and longed for the security of her mask. “My decision stands. But I appreciate your attempt to distract me.”
He grumbled. “That wasn’t a diversion tactic. I do think you’re wrong.”
“Yes, we’ve been over that. Just like you think I’m wrong about the coat of arms on the tall man’s coach.”
His features were shadowed in the dim interior of the carriage. “You must admit it seems awfully convenient that the family coat of arms you picked out of Edmondson’s Body of Heraldry just happens to belong to the man who you take to task in your opinion piece.” Picking up her hand, he brushed his thumb along her wrist. “It isn’t unusual for a strong dislike of someone to cloud one’s memory.”
“There is nothing wrong with my memory.” She was tempted to pull her hand from his grip, but didn’t want to be petty. Besides, it was warm and solid, and she needed something to hold onto. “The coat of arms I saw on the coach last night is the one I picked out of Edmondson’s. Just because it belongs to an ignorant buffoon who has no business voting on English law is pure coincidence.”
“Yes, you don’t sound biased at all.”
Amanda frowned. “Are you going to ask Lord Hanford what his coach was doing at The Black Rose? Or does his title allow him the privilege of blackmail?”
His dropped her hand. “No one gets a free pass when it comes to the security of our nation.”
Amanda hung her head. “Julius, I apologize. I didn’t mean it.”
“Didn’t you?”
Resting her head on the seat back, Amanda stared into the darkness. There was nothing to say. Julius was a good man, but there was a code, even among good men. By the accident of birth, some men could get away with murder. While she’d been denied a fair trial and evaded a hanging only by a prison escape.
The man next to her had been responsible for her escape. Had saved her life. He was a good man. An honorable one. But if it came down to it, would the Crown look to punish one of its own? Would Julius press the matter?