Let it Snow

by Suzan Butler, Emily Ryan-Davis, Cari Quinn, Vivienne Westlake, Sadie Haller, Holley Trent

  He pushed back the chair and pulled the swatch from her fingers and set it in the basket.

  Taking her hand in his, he led her from the room. They passed Sally and Adam and then Avery who was in deep conversation with Mrs. Norris. He ignored their stares. It was not as if everyone did not know about Violet’s nightly visits to his chamber.

  He would have no problem kissing her in full view of every member of the house if she would let him. But he respected her enough to obey her wishes for discretion in front of her servants.

  “Slow down,” she said. Her breaths were fast and uneven from racing up the stairs.

  “You have made me wait for nine days, Violet. Nine days. It is time to pay up.”

  She chuckled. “I thought it was you who owed me.”

  “Then take your payment out on me, angel.” He started to shrug out of his jacket and they hadn’t even made it to the bedroom.

  “You would strip down in the hallway?”

  “I am as good as naked.” Which was true. He’d never remove his jacket in polite company unless engaged in sport.

  “Then follow me,” she said, loosening his cravat and pulling him along to follow her. They passed his room and ventured further into the hall. He knew her bedroom was the third door from the other end of the hall, but he’d never seen it. They’d spent their nights in his bed.

  When she opened the door, he could definitely tell this was the master suite. Her room was nearly twice the size of his and his room was a good size. He could see her secretary, which was a red wood with little brass handles. The desk was down. Her papers were organized and her correspondence sat in a neat pile next to an ink bottle and quill.

  Her bed was massive. About the same size as his bed at his favorite manor house in the Hebrides. Every room in the castle there was fit for a king. It was too cold to spend the long winters there, so he divided his time between his other estates or visiting relatives.

  “Your bed is nearly the size of my room,” he said. “Why did we not come here before?”

  “You forget that big scar on your head.” She traced over the long line on his crown and the smaller scar on the side of his forehead. “You needed to rest in your own bed as much as possible.”

  That surely wasn’t the reason because they did not spend that much time resting in his bed. As far as he was concerned, his injuries were healed. He had the occasional headaches and sometimes he forgot little things, but he was far from being an invalid.

  “You wanted a safe haven for yourself. A place that belonged only to you,” he said. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. They both knew his time at Welbury Park was limited. If she spent their time together in his bed, it would be easier to close the door once he left. There would be no memories in her safe space, in her most private haven.

  “Yes.” She nodded, but did not look at him. Her voice wavered and he was afraid to look at her face and see a tear there.

  But when she turned toward him a moment later, there was no sign of crying. Perhaps he’d been mistaken.

  “I am here under your command, madam.” He played with her fingers, threading hers into his. “Do with me as you will.”

  “Unbutton your waistcoat and shirt.” She moistened her lips. “And do not forget your trousers.”

  He loosened his cravat and quickly freed open his dress shirt. Violet laid down on her bed, kicking off her slippers, and watched him.

  One by one he popped the buttons loose, taking his time. He pulled off his shirt and under shirt.

  Violet nodded approvingly. “Very nice.” When he started to pull off his pantaloons, she stopped him. “Leave those on but keep the fall open.” He wasn’t wearing drawers. Though the winter chill remained, he was too hot and eager for Violet to notice most of the time. And he lived for any opportunity for a private interlude with her.

  Though most days she waited until the sky was indigo and the candles were out before she’d let him do more than touch her hand or sneak a kiss.

  “Come here.”

  As he walked, he watched the rise and fall of her breasts and the way her necklace dipped down into the valley between them.

  “Sit at the edge of the bed.”

  The bed moved as she got up, but he did not turn around to check what she was about. He would find out soon enough.

  “Hold out your arms.”

  She took his long cravat and tied a knot on one end of the bed post the other end of the cravat was tied to his wrist. His elbows were able to bend some, so she hadn’t stretched him taut.

  After she’d tied the other wrist, she kissed his earlobe and slipped a blindfold over him.

  The pads of her fingers stroked his neck, sending tingles down his back. He’d never thought of his neck as sensitive. It had to be her.

  Her cool hands slid down his back then back up again and around his shoulders. When she touched his neck again, it was to trace a single finger down the middle. He shuddered.

  As her hands traveled down his shoulders, Kit relaxed his palms, which had gripped the white cloth of his bonds. She stroked his muscles and he exhaled deeply.

  The next thing he knew, her teeth had sunk into the curve where his neck and shoulder met. He jerked, but was soon soothed by her tongue. She nipped his shoulder. “So firm.” Light kisses trailed down his bicep and back up to his shoulder. “I love that strength.”

  Her nails danced along his back, pitter-pattering over his skin. When the tips of her fingers glided slowly down his back, he sighed. Each touch had a different texture, a different sensation.

  What would she do next?

  The sound of his own breathing filled his ears. He listened to the rhythm as he anticipated her next move. Her tongue licked the curve on the other side of his neck and her fingers combed through his hair, starting at the neck and working their way up.

  He could smell the sweet scent of cake and wondered if he would taste it on her lips when she kissed him.

  A sharp sting surprised him. Her teeth sunk into his neck. She kissed the bite and rubbed it.

  Soft locks of hair skimmed his back, contrasting with the hot sensation of her lips on his skin. She kissed and nipped her way over his shoulder blade and down. At the press of her lips to his spine, he arched his back.

  Before he could get used to that sensation, her nails scored his hips and buttocks as she went back to biting his neck and shoulders. His cock lengthened and the tip begged to be touched. If only his hands were free.

  Violet continued to run her nails over his skin. She scored her way up his back, over his shoulders and biceps, down his neck, and back to his scalp. She bit his right earlobe, then her hands slid down his abdomen.

  “Ohh,” he groaned when one hand gripped his shaft. She stroked up and down twice then yanked his head back with her other hand. Her grip was tight and he could feel the cords in his neck stretched taut. Was this what it felt like when he pulled on her dark locks?

  “Please,” he whispered.

  She leaned up on her knees, which he could feel against his hips, and tilted his head further back to claim his mouth. Her hot tongue made his cock ache. He wanted to fuck her, to spread her cunt open and slip into her warmth. He wanted to pierce her body the way she’d pierced his heart and drive them both hard over the cliff.

  “You are mine,” she said, releasing his cock and pinching his nipple tightly. “Any lewd and lascivious thing I demand, you will do.”

  He wished the tables were turned and he could tie her to the bed with her legs and arms tied up behind her and spread her legs open enough for him to mercilessly coerce her in and out of orgasm.

  But tonight, he was her prey and she the lioness. He would take her pain and her pleasure. He was bound to her will.

  Her hands resumed fingering his cock. She slid a finger on either side of his length and stroked, from base to tip. Pulling at his bonds did nothing to lessen the onslaught of her leisurely perusal.


  When the tip of her nails skimmed over his shaft, Kit hissed. “Buggery.”

  His ears tingled when she whispered, “Is that something you would like to try?” The low, seductive hum of her voice would’ve made a lesser man agree to anything.

  He intentionally misinterpreted her words. “Are you offering up your derrière for my delectation? I can think of quite a few things I should like to do to it.”

  She scraped her teeth along the edge of his ear. “I meant the other way around.” Her hand slid down to his bottom and massaged it.

  “Caress it or kiss it all you want. But if you poke my nether hole, I will punish you so hard you will not be able to walk for a week.”

  Gentle kisses teased his neck. Then she spoke into his other ear. “Perhaps another time. Do not worry, there are plenty of other ways to make my warrior submit.”

  What did she have in mind? She’d tortured him for a week, letting his mind race with depraved visions of her raping him and stealing his seed like some ancient pagan goddess.

  Her breasts brushed his shoulder as she moved. The next thing he knew, she straddled him. Having her sex slide over his was more than heaven. He gripped his bindings. Smooth, pliant thighs squeezed his hips and settled over him. The linen of her dress draped his knees and caressed his belly.

  He wished he could see her, watch her lips fall open when she lost herself in arousal. He wanted to watch when she swallowed his cock, to see the parting folds of her pussy as she impaled him.

  “Hmmmm.” She gripped his shoulders and gyrated her hips. “This will not do.”

  “Bloody hell, it will do just fine.”

  “Language.” She nipped a tender spot along his neck.

  “I like your body where it is.”

  Her lips were so close that he could feel her breath on his nose and mouth. “Do not worry, I will still take good care of you,” she whispered. Giving a kiss to his nose, she lifted up and climbed over his legs.

  The soft strands of her hair tickled his belly and thighs and he thought she would take him into her mouth. His hips rolled toward her.

  “Someone is impatient.”

  “Aroused,” he corrected.

  Her hair stroked his shaft and he moaned. “Mmmm,” she murmured. “I enjoy the sound of your enthusiasm.” The tips of her hair teased the head and he rotated his hips again.

  “That was something soft. Shall we try something hard?”

  What could she—? The answer was her teeth sinking into the head of his erection. Damnation. His whole body jerked from the pain. She gentled the bite, teething and licking him.

  The muscles in his arms were sore from pulling so tightly on his bonds. However, her knot held secure and he could only revel in the torture of her teeth on his cock.

  “You are killing me.”

  A beam of cool air hit the head. Did she blow on it? His thighs clenched.

  She swirled her finger on the tip and whispered, “You seem very much alive to me.” Then she sucked, rolling her tongue over him.

  “Fuck.”

  She pinched his thigh. “I told you to mind your language.” He bit back a retort when her fingers circled his girth and squeezed up from the base. “We will get there.”

  “Soon.”

  “When I decide to.”

  Devil woman. He couldn’t see, couldn’t touch her, could not even kiss her. This was not how he wanted this to go.

  “I fully intend to recompense you for this torture.”

  Little wet kisses made their way up his abdomen. “It is I who have yet to repay you for all that you have done to me.”

  “You wanted it.”

  “Just as you do right now.” She kissed his chin, his mouth, and he responded with fervor, licking and sucking her lips like he’d suck an orange for the juice. But she eased back enough that he couldn’t claim her mouth the way that he wanted.

  “Be still,” she whispered.

  A moment later, she was gone. The heat of her body dissipated and he shivered. He heard rustling sounds and then she pulled down his pantaloons. Something circled his ankle and slid up his thigh. He squirmed, but she merely dug her nails into his other leg. The sharp sensation contrasted with the soft tingle of the object gliding over his skin.

  She brushed it across his thigh, then up his belly to his chest. When she swirled it over his nipple, his cock jerked and he could feel a drop of semen pearl over the head.

  The light object circled his other nipple, rounding it over and over until his mind numbed with pleasure. But then he felt the sting of her teeth biting his nipple and squeezing it hard. She tortured both nipples at the same time. Biting and pinching one and tickling the other with…a feather?

  The vane of the feather swept across the tip, sending tiny tickles through his nipple. He moaned and she rewarded him by pumping his shaft again.

  The point of the quill zigzagged down his chest to his belly. His stomach clenched and she took the feather and ran it around his cock, in a long spiral. Holding the ties around his wrists, he tried to breathe and keep control. But Violet was merciless. She alternated between using the quill, the soft, thick vane of the feather and her mouth. When he got used to one sensation, she switched to something else.

  A violent throbbing went from ear to ear, but he suppressed it. The pleasure was too great to beg her to stop because of a silly headache.

  With the flat side of the feather, she flicked his thigh, his knee and when he thought she would pat his cock, he felt a smack against his bottom. First one, then two, then three. But the fourth blow wasn’t to his arse, it was the feather slapping against his cock.

  He roared, nearly ready to come.

  “I think you are ready now,” she said. He heard the scraping of something being dragged across the wood. Before he could ask her to explain herself, she sat atop him. Her warm derrière rubbed over his sex.

  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.” The raw, hoarse sound of his voice surprised him.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I want you to.”

  God that made him hot. He wished he could grab her and fuck her as hard and fast as he wanted. But she took her time, rubbing over him and gasping. She must be fingering herself as she teased him.

  “Ride me,” he whispered. “Take my cock and use it so hard that I shall not be able to rise from the bed tomorrow.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice.

  The sensuous feel of her hand around the base of his prick was too much. He needed to come, needed her to use him down to the quick until he was nothing but a melted puddle of desire.

  * * * *

  She could see herself in the mirror, wantonly sitting astride him, her legs open and looped around his, her dress bunched up at the waist. She could see the root of his hard cock inside of her and it made Violet wetter.

  Positioning the chair she’d dragged over so that she could use it for leverage, Violet tilted forward and thrust herself down on his shaft. Short grunts filled the room as they built a rhythm.

  She reached behind her to pull off the blindfold. Their eyes met in the looking glass and she loved how he watched her body, how he watched her watch him. Even though he was bound, his fierce gaze could command her to his will.

  Her beast was temporarily caged, but he was far from tame. She longed to loosen his bonds, to feel his hands on her breasts, on her belly, to watch him tease the folds of her sex through the mirror.

  As she pumped her body over his, she felt intoxicated by the power, by the way he yielded to her. His strength and vitality pulsed through her and melded with her own.

  “Angel,” he whispered, his breath a heavy whisper in her ear.

  She reached below to fondle his sac. His hips jerked and she bore down hard on him. With each downward slide, she felt a bit of herself unraveling.

  She gave into it, gave into the rough sounds of her body sla
pping his and the chair creaking under the pressure of her pounding on top of him. They were the sounds of his submission, the sounds of her strength over him.

  He was her knight, her lover, her very own debauched rake who would see to her pleasure over and over again. For today, he belonged to her and she could have him in any and every way that she wanted.

  He felt so good inside. He fit so right inside and out. As she took them to ecstasy, the rocking sounds increased, building to a crescendo.

  Trembling from her release, Violet slumped forward, almost sliding off of him.

  “Angel.”

  “Hmmm?” Her head spun and it felt like cotton stuffed her ears.

  It wasn’t until he spoke again that she realized that the knocking sound in the room wasn’t coming from the bed rocking. “Angel, there is someone at the door.”

  Violet blinked and her heart stopped. Who would be coming to the door? The staff knew well enough not to knock when she and Kit were in a room with the door closed. Their activities were far from secret at this point, though she still liked to maintain some semblance of decorum.

  “What is it?” Kit called when she did not say a word.

  Violet lifted up and felt his warmth slip out of her. Though she was still fully clothed, she shivered.

  “Pardon, sir.” Violet turned red when she realized it was Avery. “But there is a call from the Duke and Duchess of Havenhurst. Her Grace insists on seeing the Marquess of Kittrick. I told her there was no such man, but her ladyship described you in great—” She could hear Avery cough. “—detail.”

  Who was the Duchess of Havenhurst? And exactly what kind of details did she know about Kit?

  “Very well. Tell Her Grace that we will be down shortly.”

  She stared at him. The Marquess of Kittrick. That’s where the Kit had come from. It wasn’t short for Christopher.

  The dark look on his face frightened her. Violet turned to climb out of bed, holding her arms around herself.

  “I cannot go unless you untie me.” His tone was soft, but resigned. And then she knew. He’d lied to her about who he was, what he was.