by Multi-Author
Remorse sailed through her at the thought he might not be as forgiving as he’d always been in the past. This was the worst predicament she’d ever been in, and this time he was a victim too. A warm hand captured her chin as he lifted her head. The moment their eyes met, a tingling sensation spread across her skin.
There was something in his dark brown eyes she’d never seen before. It disappeared before she could define it. A sudden touch of humor tipped the corner of his mouth as he shook his head and released a sound of amused exasperation.
“You’ve been the bane of my existence since the day I pulled you out of that pond fourteen years ago, Charlotte Clayworth,” he chuckled softly.
“But you must admit that you have never been bored since.”
“True.” This time his laugh was warm and forgiving.
“Then you forgive me?” she asked in a pleading voice.
“Yes, you saucy minx, I forgive you.”
“Oh, thank you, John,” she exclaimed with relief as he smiled at her with affection. “I hate it when you’re angry with me.”
In an exuberant display of relief and affection, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. John went rigid against her, and the moment her mouth touched his, a fire ignited in her belly and danced its way into every pore of her body. She was about to draw back, when his lips moved against hers. It was a delightfully warm sensation that made her sigh against his mouth.
John’s firm lips pressed harder into hers until she was dizzy with excitement. The intensity of his kiss created a multitude of sensations as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against his hard, muscular body. The tip of his tongue edged along the seam of her lips then gently forced its way into her mouth. She’d only been kissed twice before, but this was unlike the chaste kisses she’d received from her suitors. John’s tongue swirled around hers in a teasing, tantalizing manner.
Eagerly she kissed him back, her tongue mating with his with equal fervor. A dark growl rumbled up out of his chest at her response. The sound made her heart skip a beat as she realized he liked kissing her as much as she liked being kissed by him. Pressed so tightly against him, her corset rubbed against her hard nipples. Stiff and rigid, they ached in the most pleasurable way possible. Suddenly, she wanted something more than his kiss.
A fire built inside her as another tender ache took hold of her. This time it was between her legs, and she instinctively pushed her hips against his. Through the material of her dress and his trousers, she could feel how hard he was. She knew enough about the male body to understand he was aroused. If it were any other man she would be alarmed, but this was John, and it felt right to be in his arms like this. With a sense of daring, she slid her hand down his chest to the top of his trousers and touched him.
Another low, primitive growl rolled up out of him as he jerked away from her. Bereft of his embrace, her body cried out for him. Every inch of her ached with a raw, passionate need that she knew he could satisfy. She was wet between her legs, and fire burned her cheeks as she envisioned his naked body on top of hers.
She looked into his dark eyes as the oddest expression swept across his handsome features. He took a step toward her as if he were about to kiss her again, then quickly put even more distance between them.
“I’m going to put Merrylegs in the barn, I’ll be back shortly.” His voice was strangled as he walked away from her and disappeared through the parlor’s doorway.
Chapter 2
JOHN RAN DOWN the porch steps, certain the hounds of hell pursued him. With a vicious swipe of his hands, he grabbed Merrylegs’ reins then turned the mare around and led her toward the barn. The weather should have made him cold, but that kiss had left him hot and harder than iron. God help him, when she touched him, he’d almost lost his seed. What the hell had he been thinking to agree to Charlotte’s pleas to return home this evening? He hadn’t been. From the moment he was ten and had saved her from drowning, he’d indulged her every whim. Tonight, however, had been a mistake of significant proportion. From the moment he’d seen the awareness in Charlotte’s eyes as he’d warmed her feet, he knew he was in trouble.
For the past year, he’d waited patiently for her to come to the realization that she cared for him as he did for her. It had become exceedingly difficult enough being alone with her for short periods of time. The prospect of spending the night alone with her was a new level of torture.
He threw up the wooden bar that held the barn door shut then led Merrylegs through the door before closing it behind them. The first stall he came upon was empty, and John led the mare inside.
“Well old girl, you’re entitled to a bucket of oats for getting us here safely.”
John patted the horse on the neck. If not for the mare’s sense of direction, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to find the farm. The mare turned her head to rub it up and down his sleeve. It reminded him of the way Charlotte had slid down the front of him when he’d lifted her off the horse a short time ago. Forcing himself not to think, he focused his attention on feeding and watering Merrylegs. A short while later, he closed the stall door. He stood for a moment watching the mare before he sank down into a wooden chair against the wall. Despite the cold temperature in the stables, his body was still on fire. The memory of that kiss was certain to haunt him for the rest of his life. It had been an innocent gesture of affection on Charlotte’s part.
“You lost your head, Fordyce. You should have ended that kiss the moment it happened.”
His words rebounded off the stable walls, and he leaned forward to clasp his hands behind his neck. The moment he’d retreated from her, the look on her face had made his heart slam into his chest like a freight train. Desire had warmed her face and luminous hazel eyes. Desire for him. No, he didn’t know that for certain. Charlotte had been aroused, but not necessarily out of love. And that’s what he wanted—her love. And he wanted her to come to him of her own accord. He didn’t want her to mistake friendship for passion.
But if she did care for him as more than a friend, would she be able to handle all the things he wanted to do to her? But her adventuresome nature made him believe she would be the perfect partner for life. Images of her fluttered through his head until one fantasy settled in his mind.
He visualized Charlotte blindfolded and tied, spread eagle, to a bed. In his mind he was running a riding crop up along the inside of her silky legs to the apex of her thighs. He’d never use the crop on her, but he was certain the caress would unsettle, hopefully even excite, her. Once she began struggling to break free of her bonds, he would replace the riding crop with his hands and mouth. He’d take his time with her. He’d make her beg and plead for what she longed for, but he’d ignore her to taste every inch of her until he reached the sweetest spot of all.
John groaned as his cock grew hard at the images flooding his head. Unable to help himself, he quickly tugged his erection free of his trousers. His hand wrapped around his rock hard length, and he roughly jerked it upward over his cock. The sudden image of Charlotte’s sweet ass bared to him, just ripe for a spanking made his cock stretch in a painful, yet pleasurable, way.
Another groan rolled out of him as he tried to control his thoughts and make his body return to a calm state. He knew better, he was already too far gone to do anything but service his cock. God knew he wouldn’t have any other satisfaction tonight. He spilled his seed in less than a minute as thoughts of Charlotte in his bed tormented him. It was going to be a very long night.
Maybe it would be best if he slept in the barn. No, that wouldn’t work. Charlotte would want to know why. She’d pester him until he was forced to lie or confess the truth. Then where would he be?
With a sigh of resignation, he adjusted himself and left the barn. He didn’t even feel the cold as he walked back to the house. The front door locked behind him, he entered the salon and saw Charlotte slumped backward in her chair. His first thought was that she was asleep until he saw her
hips bucked upward. With a frown he quietly crossed the floor to stare down at her. In a split second, his lungs were on fire as he fought to replenish the air he’d lost at the sight of her. Tonight would be the worst kind of torture. Tonight he’d exist in his own personal hell.
Chapter 3
AS JOHN WENT to attend to the mare, Charlotte sank down into one of the fireside chairs and removed her shoes. Their kiss still warmed her, and she touched her mouth with her fingers. Her lips were bruised, but in the most delicious way. What had been an innocent kiss of affection had become much more. It had seemed so right to be in John’s arms. So right for him to kiss her so passionately.
But she wanted something more. The thought made her draw in a sharp breath of surprise. Not once over the years had she ever thought of John in such a way. Their kiss had stirred something strange and foreign inside her. She wanted him to do more than just kiss her. Her heart leapt into her throat then fell low into her belly where a familiar sensation began to throb between her legs. Her entire body hummed and pulsed for something she instinctively knew John could easily satisfy.
Charlotte pulled her chair closer to the fire then tugged her skirts up to her thighs to warm her bare feet and legs. The flames crackled and popped as the clock on the mantle chimed the hour of eleven. It was almost Christmas. By now they should have been back at the parish where John’s present was waiting for him. She’d not found a quiet moment for the past week to ask his advice regarding Aunt Sarah’s invitation to visit New York.
It was one of the reasons she’d insisted on leaving his family’s party, that and giving him the Christmas present she’d gotten for him. The snowstorm and accident had thwarted that plan. But she really wanted to see his reaction to his present. John loved unique books, and she’d purchased a leather bound, hand engraved copy of Bram Stoker’s, Dracula. She could only hope John would like the book.
She’d flipped through the book, and one passage had stuck with her. The scene of Jonathan Harker and the women vampires had been the most wicked thing she’d ever read. What would she do if John bit her on the neck? A shiver went through her. It might be pleasant if he just nipped at her skin. Charlotte drew in a sharp breath as she remembered John’s hand innocently caressing the top of her thigh when he’d removed her stockings.
That had been very pleasant. Even though it had been his effort to keep her warm, the memory of his fingertips on her thighs made her mouth go dry. What would it have felt like if his fingers had run across her sex? Charlotte inhaled a sharp breath as a small ripple pressed its way between her thighs until the spot tingled and pulsed.
The passionate kiss they’d exchanged had only increased her need for relief. Her sex throbbed with a silent demand for attention. With a furtive glance over her shoulder, Charlotte calculated John wouldn’t return for some time still. She could easily alleviate the ache before he returned. Quickly, she parted the slit in her drawers and slid her fingers through her wet folds.
The moment she pressed against the sensitive flesh, she drew in a sharp hiss of air at the pleasure it gave her. As she stroked and rubbed herself, a sudden image of John touching her made her body shudder, and her fingers became even slicker and creamier. With a soft moan, her body arched upward against her fingers as she imagined it was John’s hands pleasuring her. The intensity of her orgasm surprised her, and she had to choke back the scream of release threatening to escape her lips.
“Sweet Jesus.” The strained sound of John’s voice made Charlotte’s eyes fly open.
The sight of him standing a few feet away staring at her made her heart slam into her chest with embarrassment. Hastily, she stumbled to her feet and frantically pushed her skirts downward, all the while her body reverberated with the sweet release she’d just enjoyed. A release she’d enjoyed while thinking of John.
“God almighty, Charlotte do you have any idea what a sight like that can do to a man?” His voice was hoarse as if he could barely talk.
There was a fierce, indecipherable expression on his features she’d never seen before. It intimidated and thrilled her at the same time. Unable to think of a reply, she remained silent beneath his intense gaze. John released a hiss of air from between his teeth as he shoved his hand violently through his hair then rubbed the back of his neck.
“I shouldn’t have just tied you down to a chair—I should have paddled you first.” The angry declaration made her frown.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” he growled in a low voice. His hand snaked out and grabbed her arm to jerk her toward him. As he flung himself into the fireside chair, he pulled her down with him and turned her over onto his knee. Taken off guard, she cried out in surprise as he pushed her skirts up to her waist. A split second later, he jerked her drawers down to her thighs to expose her buttocks to the room’s cool air.
“Dear Lord, John, what are you doing?” she exclaimed in mortification.
“Teaching you a lesson,” he bit out in a voice that echoed with something dark and sinful.
There was a raw, primitive edge to the sound that took her breath away as her mind grappled with the fact that he intended to spank her. John’s hand rubbed its way gently across her rear in what she could only describe as a tender caress. Bewilderment swelled inside her at the feather light touch.
The sudden smack against her bottom made her suck in a quick breath. The blow didn’t hurt, it simply dumbfounded her. John had actually made good on his word to paddle her, but it was far from the spanking she’d expected. She’d thought he would administer several smarting slaps to her bottom before he released her and was done with the matter. Instead, his fingers kneaded her flesh where he’d smacked her bottom then a second later his hand connected with her rear again.
Startled by his method of punishment, she uttered a cry of surprise. Another light smack to her bottom was followed by his hand soothing her flesh. Warmth spread its way through her buttocks as he spanked her one more time. She cried out again and wiggled in an attempt to free herself. The palm of his hand connected with her flesh again in a harder smack. It made her jerk, but the sting was quickly massaged away.
“You, Miss Clayworth, have a tendency to get your way far too often,” he growled softly. There was a sinful note in his voice that did funny things to her stomach. Strong fingers rubbed and kneaded her flesh in a way that made her draw in a sharp breath as she realized she liked his hand caressing her like this. His fingers traced the cleft of her behind downward. Immediately, she stiffened, her buttocks tightening in surprise.
John’s fingers continued downward to the curve of her bottom where it met her thighs. John stroked and massaged her flesh until the tension left her body. She’d barely relaxed, when with an upward stroke he swatted her at the base of her buttocks. The blow sent a shock wave from the base of her bottom straight to the nub she’d been fondling earlier. Before she could stop herself, she moaned at the delicious sensation.
“Did you like that, sweetheart?” His voice was a harsh, rough vibration across her skin that launched another wave of wicked sensation down to the warm spot between her legs. She gulped as she realized he was as excited as she was. She was certain of it. John’s hand continued to stroke and caress the bottom curve of her rear, and she found herself praying he would repeat what had just happened.
“Yes, John.” She admitted with a small whimper. “I like it very much.”
“Good.”
His hand slapped the bottom of her curved buttocks once more. The tingling blow sent another ripple of sensation straight to the sensitive spot between her legs. This time John’s fingers kneaded her skin for only a second before his hand connected with her buttocks again. The heat of the blow pulsed its way straight to her core. She inhaled a sharp breath of delight. In the next heartbeat, his hand smacked her bottom hard, and she felt her muscles inside contract and expand with intense pleasure. The strength of the sensation was increased tenfold as John slid two of his fingers inside her. Her b
ottom was incredibly hot in a pleasant way, and as John’s fingers stroked her, an overwhelming wave of pleasure rocked through her. Her breathing ragged, she instinctively pushed her body back and forth against his hand.
“That’s it, my sweet.” John inserted two more fingers into her, which made her moan. “I wonder if your cream tastes as delicious as it feels on my fingers.”
“Oh my, God,” she choked out as he brought her to the edge of a place she’d never been before. She suddenly screamed with joy as her body shattered against the stroke of his fingers. It sent her tumbling down into an abyss of pleasure. His fingers withdrew from her, and with another slap against the under curve of her buttocks, he made her sensitive flesh pulse hard between her legs. With a sob, she shuddered hard as her body exploded with sensation.
Ever so slowly, the tremors ebbed away leaving her warm and satisfied from the deliciously sinful experience. Charlotte didn’t move as John pulled her drawers up over her bottom. Gently, he pulled her skirts down then set her on her feet. She darted a look at him, and was startled to see him staring into the fire with a dark, brooding expression on his face. As if aware of her gaze on him, he cleared his throat.
“I apologize, Charlotte. I should never have touched you like that.”
“But, I liked it,” she whispered.
“Be that as it may, it doesn’t excuse my behavior,” he said tightly. “You’re under my protection, and I betrayed that trust. I promised my father I’d attend to family business in London, after the family gathering tomorrow. I’ll only be gone a few days. When I return, I’ll speak with your father.”
“Speak to father?” Something about his manner frightened her.
“To ask for your hand in marriage.”
The statement was devoid of emotion, and as she met his gaze, her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Dear God, he was going to marry her out of a sense of honor. She was nothing more than an obligation to him. Just as when she was drowning in the pond all those years ago, John found it necessary to take care of her when she was the one who should be accountable.
