Tutoring Miss Molly

Home > Other > Tutoring Miss Molly > Page 5
Tutoring Miss Molly Page 5

by Armstrong, Lyn


  What? What did I just agree to?

  He rose from his chair and helped her to her feet. “The maze is this way,” Kenneth said smoothly, his eyelids half cast.

  She rose ungainly from the chair. Did she consent to a tryst in the maze?

  Taking her hand, Kenneth led her outside the dining room. He enclosed his other hand over hers and kissed it with reverence. “You will see, unlike many others in this house, I know how to pleasure a lady.”

  “But—but—” she stuttered, wondering how to unlock his grasp upon her hand.

  “Brother,” a commanding tone issued from behind.

  Kenneth sighed, and turned with her hand tucked snug inside the crook of his arm.

  “I regret to inform you both, Miss Molly has a previous engagement elsewhere,” Devlin’s cool tone was rigid and final while his glare burned through Molly.

  “Maybe we should allow the lady to decide who she wishes to be with.”

  Caught between the two gentlemen, Molly was unsure what to say. She finally released her hand from Kenneth and turned to face him. “If the marquess has already made pervious arrangements, then I must honor them,” she uneasily said, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

  Kenneth brows scolded Molly with reproach. With a terse nod, he turned his back on her and shoved the door. It slammed against the outside wall then propelled closed.

  Concerned, Molly faced Devlin, but he looked bored with his brother’s temper. Offering his arm, they walked back toward the main staircase.

  “I am afraid I have hurt your brother’s feelings.”

  “He is young, pay no heed to him.”

  “Where is this engagement?” Molly asked, wondering if today he would teach her how to be courtesan. Her insides shook with trepidation and excitement by the thought of his confident hands gliding over her body. She peeked downward, his long tapered fingers were neat and clean. Molly closed her eyes, imagining sucking each finger in turn, the rough pad against her tongue. Then when they were moist from her mouth, she would lower them to…

  “Fetch Miss Molly’s bonnet and bring it to the stables.” Devlin summoned a passing servant. He turned to her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You were in deep thought. Care to share?”

  Her gaze dropped to his hands again and her cheeks burned. Shaking her head, she pressed her lips firmly together. She must stop daydreaming.

  Molly did not know if he snarled or suppressed a chuckle. In a rich, timbered voice that caressed her skin, he said, “Let us hope you can ride a horse.”

  Walking before him, she replied in an impish tone, “Let us hope you can keep up.”

  Chapter Six

  From the ballroom window, Audrey watched Devlin follow the ungainly redhead around the side of the building. She did not miss the amused expression on his face as if he found the uncouth country girl utterly delightful.

  With an open palm, she smacked the glass pane. The arched window wobbled, but did not break. Pity. It would have made her feel much better if it had smashed.

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the window. The sun shone on her face, prickling her skin with warmth. Touching the soft skin on her cheek, she jerked into the shadows of the empty ballroom.

  Why was Devlin secretive about the girl? Did he find her attractive? Audrey scoffed and observed her reflection in a gilded-framed mirror on the wall. She was by far more beautiful. Even the Prince Regent himself could not resist her charms. So why was Devlin so intrigued with this courtesan? Did he not tell her time and again, he detested those types of women?

  In the reflection, her light green eyes narrowed to slits. “I need to know more.”

  The heels on her boots clicked against the floor in rapid succession. She strained a brief smile onto her lips when she passed an aristocrat. Changing one’s personality to suit the room was something she knew how to do very well. Little did these insipid fools know that when she became the Marquess of Wilton, they would be cowering at her feet. Until then, she would have to deal with making the servants’ lives miserable.

  She shoved the kitchen door open and the kitchen maids jolted. Her lips twitched in satisfaction. Crossing her arms, she scanned the large chamber for one pretty servant in particular. The frightened maids waited for her requests, their faces pale and anxious. She had the attention of all except one.

  “Yvette!”

  The servants jumped again, but the French maid refused to turn around. Instead, she bravely kept preparing a basket of food. Fury seethed through Audrey’s veins. How dare she ignore her?

  “Leave us,” Audrey commanded. The girls scuttled out like ants, each pushing the other to be the first to escape her wrath.

  She stalked the shapely maid, walking around the long center counter in the kitchen. Yvette appeared not to care but Audrey knew better. Judging from the stiffness her shoulders as she filled a wicker basket, Yvette bluffed boldness.

  “What do you want, my lady?” she asked in a flat voice without turning.

  Audrey stood directly behind the maid, blocking her from moving. “Information.”

  Yvette raised her head. “What makes you think I know anything?”

  The little whore was defying her.

  Grabbing Yvette’s blond hair, Audrey yanked hard, causing the maid to sob. “You know everything that happens in this manor,” Audrey whispered.

  “I will not betray—”

  Pulling her hair, Audrey forced Yvette to face her and pressed her against the counter. No matter how hard the maid tried, Audrey could sense the fear dripping off her. Her breathing increased, fanning Audrey’s face with a sweet scent of berries.

  Calming her voice, Audrey said, “After all the intimacies we shared, you would not want to betray me, would you?”

  Yvette’s eyes flickered with indecision.

  “Maybe all you need is a little encouragement.” Audrey gathered the folds of the maid’s linen dress into her hands and pulled up the material.

  Yvette looked to the doorway, then back. “My lady.”

  Pinning her body against Yvette, a sense of sexual dominance empowered Audrey’s arousal. Her fingers glided beneath Yvette’s dress and slipped down her undergarments. She gasped as Audrey dipped her fingers into her warm, moist crevice.

  “Tell me about the new courtesan,” Audrey demanded in a low purr.

  Yvette shook her head, closing her eyes; she moaned with pleasure. Audrey rubbed her fingers over her hardened clit. “Tell me, Yvette. I can give you pleasure as well as pain.”

  Using her thumb and forefinger, she squeezed the maid’s sensitive nub.

  Yvette jerked.

  “Tell me,” Audrey rubbed it again, dipping her fingers lower until they sunk into her slick opening.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “Why is Devlin insistent on educating the new girl?”

  Yvette moaned again, and Audrey pulled out and pinched her clit again.

  “Because,” Yvette breathed, hunching her shoulders. “Because he has a wager with his father.”

  “Yes?”

  “If Miss Molly becomes the chosen courtesan at the mistress auction, then His Grace will break the marriage contract you have with…with Lord Devlin.”

  “Did Lord Devlin say he did not want to marry me?” she asked, almost hating that this servant knew personal intrigues about her.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Accentuating the resentment she felt, Audrey kept jabbing her fingers inside Yvette, heightening her arousal. “What happens if the courtesan does not make it to the mistress auction?”

  “Then Lord Devlin is…is honor bound to marry you by spring.” Yvette jerked, grinding her pelvis against Audrey’s hand. She shoved two fingers in and out of her in quick succession. Reaching her peak, she screamed her release. Yvette’s hot insides vibrated in a wave around her fingers.

  A wet fire spread to Audrey’s loins, aching and wanting. “You are to convey everything that is said and done between Lord Devlin and tha
t…that girl.”

  Yvette’s eyes widened. She struggled out of Audrey’s grasp and patted down her skirts. “I cannot do that.”

  Audrey smirked, bitterness tasting like bile on her tongue. She spied the cook’s knife in a loaf of bread on the counter. Grabbing the knife, she pressed it against the side of Yvette’s voluptuous breast. “Either you are my lover, or you are my enemy,” she growled. “Which is it?”

  Yvette’s face drained of all color, her eyes bulging as they stared down at her breasts. “I am your lover,” she said quickly. “I am your lover!”

  “Good.” Audrey released her. Rising her own gown, she hopped up on the middle counter and spread her legs. “Come here and show me how good a lover you are.”

  Yvette glanced at the door. “But I am supposed to—”

  “It can wait,” Audrey interrupted. “I cannot.”

  Spreading her legs, she lay back on the counter and placed her hands under her head. While a tongue lapped at her drenched core, a plan emerged to get rid of the courtesan. She puckered her lips with a sense of triumph.

  Come spring, Devlin would be her husband and she would finally be the Marquess of Wilton.

  * * * *

  The stable’s cool darkness and sweet smell of hay welcomed Molly when she walked inside. She felt the disturbing presence of Devlin following close behind her. A warm glow skimmed along her skin when he walked around her, almost brushing their shoulders.

  A black mare stuck her head out of a stall and nickered. For the first time, she saw Devlin’s smile reach his eyes as he stroked the horse’s velvet nose.

  “This is Aphrodite,” he said, his face relaxing into a boyish appeal. “She is mature but still has the energy of a foal.”

  Molly stood on the other side of the horse. “She’s lovely.”

  “I found her at a horse auction being beaten by her master. Apparently, he could not sell her because she was old and starved half to death.”

  “That is terrible.”

  Devlin eyes softened when he stroked Aphrodite’s silky mane. “I took her owner’s whip and used it against him. To show him how it felt.”

  Aphrodite nuzzled Devlin’s hand and he smiled at her.

  “Afterwards, I threw enough money at the owner to pay for ten thoroughbreds and nursed Aphrodite back to health. She has been with me ever since. There is no stronger or more loyal horse in these stables.”

  Devlin captured her gaze for the longest time, and Molly’s heart quickened in erratic thumps while her knees threatened to buckle. She shifted her feet and cast her eyes downward, breaking the sensual tension. It was better to look away than to collapse like a babe first learning to walk.

  A lanky stable boy with short, curly brown hair led a tan mare from the stall with a side saddle to the stepping blocks. “This is your mount, my lady.”

  Molly allowed the boy to help her up into the saddle while Devlin disappeared. A short and petit maid came rushing in and handed her a green bonnet.

  By the time she pinned the bonnet to her head and was comfortable in the saddle, she heard the clip clop of another horse behind her. Her fingers tightened on the reins when Devlin walked his mount beside her. In changed clothes, he looked devilishly handsome upon his large steed, wearing a black riding ensemble with tight breeches and high boots. A long white cotton cravat contrasted to his dark tailored jacket. Does the gentleman wear anything other than black? Molly did not care. The color suited the man like the moon suited the stars—you could not appreciate one without the other.

  Her eyes engulfed the length of him, unfocused with lust.

  “Have you finished staring?” he quoted her from the first day they had met.

  Her lips twitched in high amusement as she boldly looked him in the eyes. “I am ready when you are, my lord.”

  Devlin’s spirits lifted when he heard Molly laughing. She had skillfully jumped her mount over a stone fence. She appeared to be at home in the autumn forest as she wielded her horse through trees and over tall hedges. Her jade eyes shone brightly, her cheeks reddened with exertion. Delicate wisps of hair had fallen out of the chignon, while her bonnet slanted to the side. A smile crept across Devlin’s face. Most ladies refused to ride vigorously, more concerned with their looks than the thrill of the wind in their hair. He appreciated Molly lacked such reservations. In all his extensive travels, he had never met a woman who looked just as beautiful messy as she did properly groomed.

  Devlin slowed his mount to a walk. He rubbed his tired eyes and cracked his neck. Anticipation of tasting Molly today had him awake and restless most of last night. He had sought the distraction of a good book and was in little mood to deal with Audrey after she had sauntered into the library. Even with her skill for seduction, he still could not get Molly’s innocent kiss out of his head. The feel of her naked body pressed against his, the taste of her mouth, warm and inviting. He did not want to explain to Audrey how he felt about Molly. It angered him that he did not know how he felt about her.

  “I have yet to be introduced to your father.” Molly broke into his thoughts, sidling her horse next to his. “Was His Grace at breakfast?”

  He gathered the loose reins into a tighter grip. “No, he does not rise from bed until he has feasted upon two women.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Molly responded.

  “Did I shock you?”

  “I suppose after everything I have seen, I should not be surprised,” she answered, and leaned over her mount to pat its neck that was damp with sweat.

  “I find it charming that you are shocked and yet you do not judge.”

  “I am in no position to judge, my lord.”

  “Nobody is ever in a position to judge, but they still do,” Devlin replied, halting his mare. He swung down and tied Aphrodite’s reins to a tree. Then walked around Molly’s horse and raised his hands up to help her dismount.

  “Do not drop me.” She smiled with impudence.

  “Never.”

  After her feet touched the ground, he tied her horse next to his and clasped her hand with his. “Yvette is just through here.”

  “Yvette?”

  “Yes.”

  He led her through a circle of thick trees until they entered a clearing with a rainbow of wildflowers. Bluebells, pansies and poppies dotted the field as if they were straight out of a painting. The fresh and invigorating breeze smelled of sea salt. Beyond the trees were spectacular cliffs. He loved this place. It always held a magical appeal for him. Holding Molly’s hand, he could not help but wait for the new memories they would make here.

  Rising from a blanket on the ground, Yvette stood boldly among the flowers wearing a white, boned chemise and knee-high stockings.

  Molly tugged on his hand. “I am beyond needing a chaperone.”

  “She is not here to chaperone you.” Devlin held out his hand to the maid and kissed the back of it. “She is here to guide you.”

  The maid lightly stroked Molly’s cheek. “Do not be afraid, ma chérie. You need not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

  He studied Molly’s fetching profile, the way her eyes dilated, her teeth lightly biting her bottom lip. A tinge of flush emerged on her cheeks. He did not need to look at her breasts to know she found the idea arousing.

  His pulse quickened at the speculation, his shaft was already eager for Molly’s first lesson.

  “Yvette, undress our courtesan.”

  Chapter Seven

  Through the line of trees, the sound of waves crashed against the shore. The ocean’s unrelenting pounding mirrored Molly’s heartbeat. All she could do was stare. Was Yvette to undress her out here in the open? In the daylight?

  Taking Molly’s clammy hand, Yvette gently led her over to the large woolen blanket and walked around her. Yvette unpinned the green hat and undid Molly’s chignon, allowing her hair to tumble down her shoulders. Molly felt the tug on the bow at the back of her green dress. Her stomach tingled with anticipation and nervousness.

&nbs
p; Devlin stood with his arms across his chest, facing Molly. He gave no indication of arousal on his stony face. When she was completely naked, exposed to the elements, the flicker of his eyebrow was his only acknowledgement.

  Was he comparing her against his beautiful betrothed?

  “To give pleasure to a man, you need to know your body and the gratification it brings,” he said.

  Molly thought of all the flaws her body had and looked down to the ground. A habit she was falling into whenever she was under Devlin’s scrutiny.

  Her tutor stepped forward and lifted her chin. “Your body is beautiful and will give you great ecstasy, but you need to first appreciate and explore its bounty. Until you release all your inhibitions, you’ll never know how intense passion can be.”

  Devlin placed Yvette in between them and undid her chemise, allowing the pretty blonde’s breasts to fall. He reached around the maid and cupped them, rubbing her swollen nipples. With a satisfying smile, Yvette leaned against Devlin and closed her eyes.

  “Do to yourself exactly what I am doing to Yvette,” he ordered.

  Molly swallowed hard and did as she was told. She cupped her breasts, the heavy, warm globes weighed in her palm while she ran her thumb over the erect tips. Yvette opened her lust-filled eyes, her plump breast molded to Devlin’s expert hands.

  Molly licked her salty lips. Her blood pulsed through her veins as if she were running. Never had she seen a woman being pleasured this close before. A sizzling sensation skipped down her spine while an ache formed between her legs.

  Devlin’s gray eyes stared into hers. Intense and carnal. As if it were her, he caressed and not the maid.

  Slowly, he lowered his hands to run along Yvette’s smooth abdomen. Molly did likewise. Reaching around her hips, his fingers glided over the golden curls at the apex of her thighs.

  Yvette sighed and slanted her head to rest on his shoulder, giving him better access to her body.

  Molly’s gaze followed his strong hand when they opened up Yvette’s moist inner lips. He placed his fingers inside. Dipping into her wet core, he rubbed creamy juices over her clitoris.

 

‹ Prev