Angel's Guardian

by Scottie Barrett

  “Fine, I said, I’d be your mistress, then. That I’d far rather be your mistress than Stanbury’s wife.” She nibbled her plump, wine-stained lip. “Actually, I said whore.”

  His mouth curled of its own volition. It was the closest he’d come to smiling all day.

  “I suppose I should have mentioned that to you last night.”

  “That you’d be satisfied being my mistress?” Forgetting his intentions to make this a swift conjugal meeting, he stepped forward and swept her hair behind her shoulders. He cupped her breasts. They felt deliciously heavy in his hands. “Not near binding enough, sweeting. In fact, I’m putting a ring on your finger to remind you everyday whom you belong to.”

  She watched his thumbs swirl over her distended nipples. “I don’t need reminding,” she said.

  “I think you might.” Her eyes widened as he grabbed the lace ribbon from the dresser. He circled her and drew her arms behind her, gently gathering her bruised wrists into one of his hands. With care he lightly secured her wrists with the ribbon. He was prepared to release her if she showed any resistance.

  With her hands bound, her breasts jutted forward. His cock was iron hard at the sight of her luscious pink nipples standing at attention for him.

  With her arms still tied behind her, Nicholas reached around and stroked at the apex of her thighs, her silken curls tickling his fingers. With very little urging she parted her legs for him until her feet straddled his boots. She pulled in a shivering breath as he stroked the sweet little triangle of curls. She squirmed a bit in his grasp as he rubbed his thumb over her slit.

  “Stay as you are,” he said. She obediently kept her position while he tucked his other hand between her spread legs from behind and possessively stroked her. He groaned as she began rocking in rhythm to his strokes, arching her back, thrusting her sassy bottom right into his hand on the upsweep then pushing her hot pussy forward into his other hand. He was tempted to take her right there in the middle of the floor. Just lift her onto his cock. Rough bastard that he was, even he knew better than to take his new bride standing up.

  He untied her wrists then walked stiffly to the bootjack, he had an achingly hard erection. He was willing to risk his Hessians in his desperation to have her under him. He yanked off a boot and then glanced over his shoulder to find her kneeling on the rug before the fire. Visions of her naked and spread wide, lying atop the fur in the hunting cabin made his cock throb. He wanted to watch her run her fingers over her pretty cunt again.

  He dispensed with the second boot. When he turned back around he found her stretched out atop the rug in front of the hearth brandishing an unlit candle with seductive promise. Christ, did the chit think he needed to be seduced? Her glittering green eyes widened as he approached. His erection, straining against his breeches, was impossible to miss.

  She ran the tapered end of the candle over her full bottom lip. He pulled in a ragged breath as she stuck out her little pink tongue and swirled it around the tip.

  “Touch yourself,” he said as she fed the candle between her parted lips.

  She dropped her knees open and tentatively petted herself. The candle trembled in her other hand and her cheeks blushed furiously. But despite her nervousness she plunged the candle slowly but surely into her mouth all the while stroking her pussy. It had been years since he’d felt genuine shock. But seeing his dainty ward…dainty wife, he mentally corrected, swallowing the length of the candle shocked the hell out of him. She pushed it in further until the smooth white candle all but disappeared except for the end she gripped. Her sexual flirtation was driving him to the edge.

  When she pushed the tip of her finger inside herself, he dropped to his knees between her legs, trapping her finger. With a little pressure, he forced it deeper. She arched her neck. His knuckles pressed into the rug on either side of her as he leaned over. He swept his tongue roughly over one of her nipples then sucked it into his mouth. He lavished the same attention on her other nipple as her delicate foot grazed his erection.

  He sat back on his haunches and enjoyed the sight of her glistening nipples. She withdrew the finger from her pussy. It came out wet and shining. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he sucked her finger into his mouth.

  Next she pulled the candle from her mouth, keeping her lips snug around it so that it came out with a satisfying pop.

  “Not much of a feat I suppose. ‘Tis barely thicker than your finger,” she said with a trembling smile.

  He took the candle from her. Two could play at this. But now he wanted control of the game.

  He dragged the candle through the wet folds of her cunt, moistening it for insertion. Slick with her honeyed sweetness he played it over her hot sex. She arched toward it eager to take it inside her. But he trailed the tip lower.

  “Nicholas,” she said on a gasping breath as he breached her tiny puckered hole. He’d never seen anything so erotic as that tiny hole stretching to accommodate the intrusion. She squirmed trying to dislodge the candle.

  “Not as submissive as I’d hoped.”

  She demonstrated her wish to be more cooperative by doing something that sent the blood roaring through his veins. She clutched her knees bringing them in tight against her body. The candle not seated securely enough bobbed tantalizingly as her bottom rolled upward. His breathing grew rough at her desire to please him. She turned her head and stared at the wall too bashful to look at him as he continued to insert the candle. As he pushed the wider part of the candle inside her she dug her small white teeth into her bottom lip driving him mad with the need to kiss her.

  He stopped with inches left to go. Her breasts heaved with breaths. If she could not be trained to accept such a slender object what chance would he ever have of claiming her there. She was so light it was nothing to flip her to her front, especially since she was being so obliging. He tucked a pillow beneath her pelvis forcing her bottom out prominently. He groaned at the sight of the candle protruding from her delectable arse.

  She jolted as he took hold of the candle end, desperate to see her take it all. She clutched at the rug as he eased it further inside her.

  “Nicholas,” she said writhing beneath the persistent pressure he applied.

  “You need only say stop,” he said. He stroked her back which was now covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. He tucked his hand beneath her and found her clitoris and rubbed gentle circles.

  He groaned as he watched her taking the entire length. She was so submissive, so sensual, he was beginning to believe he was dreaming it.

  Once she was filled, he turned her gently on her back.

  “Part your lips for me.” When she hesitated, he rewarded the delay by delivering a swift slap to her vulnerable pussy. She shyly avoided his gaze as she used both her hands to spread her lips. He stroked those sweet pink folds, and then thrust his finger into her tight sheath, the candle jammed up her backside making it snugger still. Her breathing was shallow. He groaned, in awe of how tightly she gripped his finger. He pulled it out then thrust it deeper. When he thrust in two fingers she forgot what she was meant to be doing and moved her hands to clutch at the rug. He pulled his fingers out and delivered another smack to her deliciously slick cunt.

  Knowing he was probably already sporting new stubble, but unable to stop himself he lowered his face to kiss her. He roughly stroked his tongue over her slit. Her hands dug into his hair as he traced her clit with the tip of his tongue then began sucking gently. He trailed his tongue down over her tender folds then stiffened his tongue and thrust into her tight channel. As he licked inside her he tapped the candle end, forcing it deeper. Instantly, her pussy spasmed around his tongue. He lifted his head and watched her beautiful face as she climaxed. God, she was so responsive.

  He’d done all the playing with her he could bear. He needed to fuck her.

  He got to his feet.
“Come to bed,” he said and extended his hand. She sat up and gave him a demure smile and smoothed her hair. Allowing her a moment to collect herself he strode to the bed. He threw back the bed covers and turned to find that she’d removed the candle. She tossed it over the hearth fender and into the fire.

  Her small act of defiance irritated him. “I did not give you permission.”

  Angeline glanced guiltily over her shoulder, the candle was already only drips of wax running over the flaming wood stack. She looked back at Nicholas. “You are very dictatorial.” The man definitely insisted on being her lord and master in the bedchamber. But had she really believed there would be no consequences to teasing him with the candle?

  He began unbuttoning his uniform pantaloons. “I had no intention of taking your virginity with that jammed inside you.”

  She stood up on shaky legs and strode self-consciously to the bed. She could feel the wetness between her thighs. Her whole body still tingled from what he’d done to her. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a hardship to defer to his wishes when they were alone.

  Halfway across the huge room the warmth of the fire was a mere memory. She slipped between the cold sheets and pulled the heavy quilt up to her chin.

  Nicholas shed his pantaloons and drawers. Most men, she imagined, would appear diminished once unclothed. He was quite the opposite. With his powerful muscles, old battle scars, yesterday’s fresh wounds and the tattoo on his neck he was larger than life. His erection bobbed as he approached the bed. She rolled onto her side and propped herself on her forearm. With awe she reached out and wrapped her hand around him. He sucked in a sharp breath. Wantonly, she smoothed her hand down the length of him.

  The contrast was exciting, silken skin over a steel hardness. His entire frame seemed to shudder as her hand glided over the smooth skin of his cock. She wriggled daringly close and lowered her head to take a tentative taste. But a lick wasn’t enough and she was soon swirling her tongue over the head of his cock.

  “Have mercy, brat,” he said as if she were torturing him. She released him with a sigh of frustration and settled back on the pillows.

  He threw off the bedclothes leaving her naked and exposed then quickly covered her with his body. Her heart beat madly as he settled himself between her thighs. She ran her hands over his broad back.

  She gave a startled cry as the crown of his cock pushed into her. No more kisses or petting, this was pure and primal. She gripped his big arms in nervous anticipation. He thrust further inside her and her body tightened against the invasion.

  He stilled, holding himself above her. His muscles were rigid, his chest was sweating. He stroked deeper and she allowed only the tiniest whimper to escape her lips.

  She felt stretched to the limit. She reached between their bodies.

  “There’s more,” he said with obvious irritation, just as her fingers confirmed it, grazing from the base of his shaft to where they were joined.

  All her sensual instincts had deserted her. She lay frozen beneath him, as lifeless as one of Silas’s pinned butterflies.

  “You’re more than I can manage.” She swallowed hard. Had she said that aloud?

  “You will have to learn to manage me.” He practically growled the words.

  She shut her eyes and tried to tighten her grip on his arms, but his unyielding muscles made it difficult to find purchase.

  “Dammit, look at me.” A forceful thrust left her blinking up at him.

  Disappointment and lust warred in his eyes. “Angel, I need this.”

  That was all she had to hear to let her knees drop wide and to surrender her body to him.

  His gaze never left her face as he withdrew slightly and slowly pushed into her again. He began a rhythm that took her breath away. The friction swiftly turned from pain to an almost unbearably delicious ache. She was becoming so wet he was able to push easily into her now. When he finally thrust to the hilt she gasped with pleasure. He pulled out almost to the tip and then shoved the entire length of his hard cock into her again.

  She was so vulnerable, with her knees almost touching the mattress, and her pussy completely open to him. One of his big hands slid under her bottom, lifting her to meet his driving thrusts. She licked her lips, wishing she could pull his head down and kiss him, but his entire focus was on fucking. His strokes were deep and proprietary, reminding her whom she belonged to.

  His fingers dug into her buttocks as he clutched her tighter. He became rougher, less controlled. The slick thrusts of his powerful cock made her pussy clench with desire.

  He angled her bottom higher, increasing the intensity. She arched her neck and cried out his name as the tip of his cock hit a deliciously sweet spot.

  Her pussy was still pulsing around his thick shaft when he reached his own climax, his big body shuddering in her arms.

  He lifted his head and stared down at her. “Nicholas,” he said.

  Had she cried out Draxford again? She traced the scar along his jawline. “A difficult habit to break. ‘Tis the name I’ve always said when I find satisfaction.”

  ***

  Who needed a bed warmer with a husband who gave off such heat? Angeline snuggled closer to his warmth. Was the room darker? How long had she been sleeping? She could not gauge the time, the entire day had seemed like endless dusk. She could still hear the rain lashing against the windows.

  She stretched lazily against him then raised her head to find him staring at her, one arm bent behind his head.

  He stroked her hair with his free hand. “You haven’t eaten all day. Are you hungry?”

  She nodded and rolled off him, realizing as she did that she was sore from all his attentions.

  He pulled on a pair of worn buckskins and crossed the room to the bell pull. When the servant scratched at the door Nicholas yanked the quilt up to cover her though she doubted the bed would be visible from the hallway. Even so, he blocked the open door with his body as he ordered a tray of food to be sent up. “Leave it in my dressing room. And tell the staff they are dismissed for the day, and to make themselves scarce.”

  He occupied himself with building up the dying fire.

  She realized how hungry she was when she heard the tray being set down in the adjoining dressing room. Nicholas collected the tray and placed it on an ottoman before the hearth.

  Since her dress was in tatters, she grabbed his black silk dressing gown. It dragged the carpet as she walked. She took the armchair next to his and poured him a cup of coffee.

  He set the steaming cup aside and sat forward his arms resting on his spread thighs. Despite all they’d shared in bed, he was still unhappy.

  “Will you sulk for our entire marriage?”

  “Quite possibly,” he said, his jaw ticking. Lightning flickered between the slightly parted curtains. The stormy weather continued to mirror his mood.

  “I promise, I’ll become proficient with the account books, menus, letters—”

  “Christ, with that agenda, when will you have time for me?”

  Everything she said seemed to increase his displeasure. “I’m merely saying that I can become the wife you want.”

  “You are the wife I want. As you are,” he said gruffly.

  She sipped her coffee, thinking it better not to respond.

  He stood up and put his hand out to her. “I want to show you something.”

  She balked as they approached door. “Wearing this?”

  He turned up the lapels of the dressing gown and overlapped them then belted the robe tightly around her.

  She gathered the gown to avoid tripping as she walked barefooted down the stairs. She needn’t have worried about shocking the servants in her dishabille, they had heeded Nicholas, and were nowhere to be seen or heard.

  He took a candelabrum from the entrance hall and she
followed him past the breakfast room and the newly decorated parlor. He opened the door to Silas’s map room and set the candelabrum down so that light was thrown to all four corners of the room. Her eyes filled with tears the instant she saw all the familiar objects. The room smelled of soap and wood polish. The glass cases sparkled and Silas’s mahogany desk had been rubbed to a gleaming shine. Even the delicate insect specimens were free of dust. She ran her fingers over the worn spines of Silas’s books which crowded the ceiling-high bookcase.

  “Clearly, the items are not arranged correctly. But my men were able to retrieve everything. The maps from the walls, I’m afraid, were not salvageable.”

  Angeline traced the vines carved into the surface of the miniature cabinet that held Silas’s rock collection. She pulled open a drawer of polished rocks and rubbed the rose crystal for good luck as she used to do.

  She slid the drawer shut and turned to him, her vision blurred by tears. “Thank you, Nicholas. This is the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  He stood clad in only buckskin breeches, his arms crossed over his bare chest. A warrior out of place, amidst objects he likely saw as worthless trinkets. “I apologize for my behavior. I never expected to fall in love and I’m handling it like a damned jackass.”

  Her heart began pounding. Had she heard correctly? An apology and a declaration of love from his stern lips. “You love me?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a squeak.

  “I thought it was obvious to everyone that I’d lost my damned mind over you.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “Don’t worry I realize you do not feel the same.”

  She frowned in confusion.

  “Benjamin let it slip this morning,” he said.

  “What?”

  “That you once cared for me.”

  “I said that I was once infatuated with you. Benjamin interrupted me before I could finish—” ”

  “Still past tense. How is that any damn different?” he asked, interrupting her, as well. “Forgive me, but I actually believed you when you spoke of a passion for me. I was arrogant enough to think it would extend beyond the bedroom door.”