But he didn’t kiss her lips. Instead, his mouth found the curve of her throat and his tongue teased out to drag along the line of her pulse. To her shock, Beatrice found herself arching against him as he sucked the tender column of her skin. Strange, powerful sensations overwhelmed her, making her legs shake as his mouth glided ever lower.
But final y, he pul ed away.
“I look forward to doing that again when you have fewer layers.” With a grin, he turned away. “I’l speak to you very soon, Miss Albright. And I look forward with great anticipation to seeing you in my home. And my bed.”
With those parting words, he was gone, back on his horse and pounding down the path away from her. Beatrice stared at him, eyes wide and body tingling in new and terrifying ways she didn’t understand. Al she knew was that she liked the way she felt. And in the most secret places of her heart, mind and body, she couldn’t wait to explore more sensuality with the Marquis of Highcroft.
And to appease her curiosity about the “proclivities”
he had intimated he possessed. The ones that titil ated as much as frightened her.
Chapter Five
O nce the agreement had been struck, Beatrice was shocked by how quickly the marquis moved to fulfil his part of the arrangements. Within a day she had written a letter inviting her mother to join her sisters at Penelope’s house party. Somehow Gareth managed to have it posted so it appeared to have come from her brother-in-law the Duke of Kilgrath’s country home. With perfect timing, Beatrice had revealed to her mother that she had been invited to join Amelia’s family in the country. When faced with a choice between meddling in Beatrice’s failed love life and hobnobbing with earls and dukes and people of import, her mother had been very clear.
Oh,
of
course
when
Dorthea
appeared
unannounced at her daughter’s home, there would be much suspicion, but by then it would be too late. Her sisters, if they bothered to make search at al , would likely be unable to find her. After al , Beatrice had been careful not to share her plans with anyone, so there was no one to betray her confidence if her family investigated further.
And so Beatrice now found herself in a carriage with a very quiet female chaperone Gareth had sent along to fetch her. Whatever the servant thought of her, Beatrice did not know, for the girl kept to herself, hardly speaking during the entire half day’s journey from London.
In some ways, the chaperone’s silence frustrated Beatrice. At least if the other woman talked, Beatrice wouldn’t find her mind slipping to the devil’s bargain she had quite possibly made. And to the dangerous situation she was about to enter.
After al , as much as she tried to ignore and forget it, the fact was that Gareth Berenger was thought to have been involved in the death of his first wife. When Beatrice spoke to him, she found it hard to believe that to be true, but she didn’t know his innocence for a fact. Once they were alone, he could do anything to her. And he had already intimated that his sexual desires were depraved.
As the carriage slowed she shivered, and it wasn’t entirely with displeasure.
“They’re opening the gates, miss,” the servant said without looking up from her book. “We should be at the main house before a quarter of an hour has passed.”
Beatrice glared at her companion. “So it turns out you are capable of speech, after al . What a relief.”
The servant’s gaze came up for a brief glance, but then she returned to her reading without reply. It took al the self-control Beatrice had not to throw something at her.
She shut her eyes for the remainder of the journey and found the carriage stopping what seemed like an interminable time later. The door opened and a hand reached in to help her out. When she took it and stepped down, she was surprised to find it was Gareth who greeted her, not a servant.
“H–hel o,” she stammered as she touched her feet to the drive and looked up at him. Up and up at him, actual y. Had he always been so tal ?
“Good afternoon, Beatrice,” he said softly as he maneuvered her so the servants could begin unloading her things.
She hardly noticed as people shuffled back and forth around them. Al she could think about was that Gareth was stil holding her hand.
“Are you going to say something?” he asked with an eyebrow arched in obvious amusement.
Beatrice snatched her hand from his, blushing as she realized she had been staring up at him like some besotted school-girl.
“Could you have sent a dul er servant to chaperone me?” she asked as she peeled off her gloves and strode into the house without waiting for his invitation.
“She hardly spoke four words the entire journey. I was bored beyond belief.”
“Perhaps you should have brought a book.”
Beatrice jumped. Gareth was right at her elbow, though she hadn’t heard or felt his presence beside her. She turned on him.
“Perhaps. Now please have someone show me to my chamber, I am tired and I wish to refresh myself.”
He stared at her and he laughed, low and dangerous. “No, no, no, Beatrice. This shal not do at al .”
She stepped back, but he moved forward and crowded her against the wal .
“What do you mean?” she asked and found herself to be quite breathless.
“You and I made a bargain, my dear. You are mine for a fortnight. And if you think you shal spend it dictating to me, then you shal be very disappointed, indeed.”
“What do you mean, I am yours?” Beatrice asked, her heart beginning to pound. “I never agreed to such a foolish thing.”
“But you did, my dear.” He braced one hand on each side of her head. She felt his warm breath on her skin and hated herself for liking it so much. “You see, you said you could stand my proclivities, whatever they may be. If that is true, then by the time this fortnight is over, you shal be bowing to my wil whenever I demand it. You shal be my devoted sexual servant, Beatrice, and you wil be thanking me for it.”
Gareth had never used such blunt terms to describe what it was he longed for in bed. With the ladies he paid, there was no explanation necessary. Lightskirts had a much broader view of sex. Stil , those encounters had never been very satisfying because there was no true surrender in them. Those women did what they did for blunt, not for the pure satisfaction of submitting.
So he had married, with the hopes that he could coax Laurel into surrender. When he had described his fantasies and desires to her, he had been gentle, for al the good it had done him in the end.
But with Beatrice, that would not do. To obtain her body, he needed to be perfectly clear about what he would do to her. And he reveled in how her eyes widened and her lower lip trembled even as she tried to glare at him with a mixture of disgust and disdain. She didn’t quite achieve it. Behind her anxiety was definite interest and desire.
“I shal never be so foolish, I promise you,” she spat back.
“Then I fear we won’t match wel at al , my dear,” he said, cal ing her bluff with the one fear he actual y knew she would admit to. After al , she had made this shocking bargain with him. Her straits were dire, indeed.
She flinched, just as he had known she would. For a long moment, she seemed to ponder what he said and then she nodded.
“Very wel , Gareth,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You lead the way.”
“Oh, I wil ,” he al but purred before he took her hand and slipped it into the crook of his arm. She stiffened beneath his touch, her natural desire to resist, to argue bucking one last time. But when he maneuvered her toward the stairway, she didn’t resist. While he wouldn’t have described her as meek, when she fol owed him, she was definitely a kitten with her claws retracted. He wondered how long that would last.
The question only lasted in his mind a few short moments for as he opened the door to his chamber and motioned her in, her brief acquiescence ended.
“Is this—” she broke o
ff as she looked around the dark, very masculine room. He doubted she knew her blue eyes were so impossibly wide. “Is this your room?
”
He nodded as he slipped the door shut behind him. She shook her head when her gaze moved to the pile of trunks his servants had already efficiently deposited in the corner to be unpacked later.
“But those are my things!”
“Indeed, they are.”
She turned on him, folding her arms below her breasts as she speared him with a very angry, very pointed glare.
“Where is my chamber?”
“You’l be sharing this one with me,” he said softly. “I want access to you whenever I desire. However I desire.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not. You promised me you would protect my reputation, you promised me—”
“Don’t be an idiot, my dear,” Gareth snapped, final y coming toward her. “Everyone on my staff is ful aware that the only reason a lady would come without chaperone to stay here is to fuck in my bed.”
She flinched at the blunt term, but did not look away. God, how he loved the fire in her eyes.
“There is no use simpering and pretending by providing you with a separate chamber that I wil either invade every night or drag you from in your nightshift. You wil stay with me, you wil do as I please and my servants wil politely look the other way and keep silent. Your reputation is something you have ruined in your own way. But there wil be no further damage from this stay, I assure you.”
Beatrice was silent for a long moment and Gareth could see that always-present war in her eyes. The one between her tart nature and what she thought she had to do in order to win his agreement to marry her. But her nature was strong and this time it won out. He smiled as she stormed forward, one finger extended toward him like a tiny sword.
“How dare you talk to me about reputation? I am the only one risking anything for this devil’s bargain, and what I have to win is very slim, indeed, considering what I wil surrender before I am finished. Should I not have some say in what wil happen to me? Some—”
He slipped a hand around her waist and dragged He slipped a hand around her waist and dragged her against him. The action stopped her mouth and she simply stared up at him in a combination of fear and desire. The fact that the second emotion was there gave him great pleasure.
“I promise you, Beatrice, what you wil receive wil be pleasurable,” he murmured.
She shivered as he brought his lips to her throat, but she stil stammered, “I–I somehow doubt that. I have said I would do this for the end result, do not confuse yourself that I wil take any pleasure from it.”
“You are such a little liar,” Gareth chuckled as he found the first button along the back of Beatrice’s silken gown. He popped it free and she gasped.
“I am not,” she whispered.
“Of course you are.” He freed another button slowly, but kept his gaze focused firmly on her. “You can say you don’t plan to enjoy anything I want to do with you, to you…but when I kissed you in Hyde Park, your reaction was explosive with a passion you have been taught to repress. Come, Miss Beatrice Albright, do not play games with me. There is some part of you that thril s at the idea of experiencing wicked, wanton pleasure. Some piece of you that aches when you imagine what I shal do with your body.”
He freed three more buttons in rapid succession and her gown began to gape around the scooped neck, giving him a lovely tunnel view to the curve of her cleavage.
“Admit it,” he whispered.
Beatrice shook her head. “I admit nothing.”
He smiled and dipped his head down to glide his tongue between her breasts. She sucked in her breath and arched helplessly against him.
“Yes, you do,” he murmured. “You admit everything with your body’s reactions. You wil tel me the same with your mouth later.”
He tugged and her dress fel forward.
Beatrice felt the warm flush of blood to her cheeks a nd hated the missish reaction. She didn’t want to appear weak before this man, but that was exactly how she felt. Weak with the desire he could read plainly, but also weak with fear she hoped he would never sense. This idea had been fine when it was only in theory, but now…now her gown was being glided down her hips, now Gareth was staring at her flesh openly, now she was real y in this moment. And once they were finished, there would be no going back for her.
“You are beautiful,” Gareth said softly as her dress hit the floor and left her only in a thin shift, stockings and slippers.
Even more heat flooded her face, but this time it was the heat of pleasure and she felt herself relax. No one had said she was beautiful in so long, she could scarce remember it.
“There is no need to fear,” he said even softer as he enveloped her in the warm darkness of his embrace. She felt him gliding her backward ever so slowly, until her backside hit the edge of his bed. She started at the contact, but his strong arms wouldn’t al ow her to maneuver away.
“This first time, no games, no tests,” he said, his tone strangely soothing in the otherwise silent room. She could hardly breathe for a moment as the reality hit her once again. Only this time, with Gareth’s arms firmly around her, with her breasts flat against his chest, her legs tangled with his, his bed at her back
…somehow the reality was not chil ing.
Shutting her eyes, she nodded. “Th–thank you,” she whispered.
The statement sounded odd to her, for it was one she rarely said, but it fit here. After al , he could do anything, but he was promising her gentleness and care. The least she owed him was thanks as she endured what was to come.
“Look at me.”
It was an order, which normal y chafed Beatrice, but she found herself obeying. She let her eyes flutter open and watched as Gareth slowly divested himself of his jacket. He opened his cravat and then he tugged his shirt from his trouser waist. She held her breath as he opened it and pul ed it over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up.
Good Lord, he was a sight. His olive skin looked warm as it stretched over an abundance of lean muscle. A light dusting of hair curled over that, trailing off into the waistband of the trousers he was now unbuttoning.
“You have never seen a man like this,” he mused. Somehow she tore her gaze from the shocking sight of the gaping fly of his pants and looked at him.
“No,” she admitted.
“Not a servant? Not a relative? Not even a picture?”
he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. Never.”
He smiled as he pushed his trousers away and stood before her in ful nudity. “And what do you think?”
She swal owed as she let her gaze move downward again. She had heard about a man’s…instrument…his cock, she had heard her married sisters giggling about once. She had tried to picture it, but it had never been like this in her daydreams.
He was thick, the swol en thrust of him probably close to the width of her three fingers pressed together. As for length, she hadn’t expected that, either.
“You are to fit that inside of me?” she asked, trying to picture such a thing. She might not have ever seen a man naked, but she had certainly touched herself. With one finger inside of her channel she felt ful . Before he answered, she watched as his cock actual y changed.
“It is moving,” she whispered.
“ Yo u are an innocent,” he murmured, seemingly more to himself than to her. “As I become more excited by you, my cock fil s and becomes harder. When it is ful y erect, I wil slide it inside of you. If I have done my job correctly, your body wil be hot and slick and ready to stretch to receive me.”
She looked up, his words giving her a shiver she could not suppress.
“Is it ful y erect now?” she asked with another unwanted blush.
After a long moment of holding her gaze, he reached out and took her hand. He pul ed her closer as he closed her fingers around him. She gasped at the silkiness of his skin in comparison to the hardn
ess of the muscle beneath.
“Stroke me,” he said, his voice strained.
Beatrice glanced up, her eyes wide. But she didn’t pul back, despite the fact that he was ordering her around again. Instead, she glided her hand up and down his length, too mesmerized by the feel of him to stop herself from exploring her curiosity.
“Do you feel me getting harder with your touch?” he asked as he dropped his mouth to just below her ear. She shivered as he stroked his tongue along the delicate skin there. “Yes,” she managed to squeak out.
“I feel it.”
“I am almost ready to fil you,” he groaned. “However, I doubt you are ready to receive me.” With an unexpected shove, he toppled her across the bedsheets. “And so I have some work of my own to do.
”
Beatrice sat up on her elbows, half terrified of what he meant and half thril ed. She had never felt so shivery and achy, so nervous and excited al at once. He leaned over her and she gasped as he grasped her ankle. His long, lean fingers curled around her and he lifted her foot up and glided her slipper off. He repeated the action on the opposite foot and tossed the shoes aside. He pushed her legs open just a fraction, which let him stand beside the bed between them. Beatrice gasped as warm air whispered over her naked skin, brushing under her chemise to her most private areas and intensifying the strange, throbbing ache there.
“A tease without even knowing it.” He chuckled. She fol owed his line of sight and blushed as she realized he was looking to where her chemise had slipped between her spread thighs and partial y covered her. She couldn’t think of a retort, she couldn’t think of anything except for the feel of his fingers as he slid them up her legs. They tickled over her knees, they smoothed her thighs until he found the tops of her stockings. One by one, he rol ed them away. His fingers glided over her bare, goose-pimpled flesh as he tugged them down and tossed them aside.
He joined her on the raised bed, crawling up on his knees and spreading her legs even farther with the width of his body.
Nothing Denied Page 5
