Nothing Denied

by Jess Michaels

  Gareth reeled from Beatrice’s passionate response. In truth, he had not expected such renewed ardor so quickly. He had been certain that she would hesitate. After al , she had been through a great deal that day, from the travel to the loss of her virtue, to the realization of exactly what he would take from her if she acquiesced.

  In truth, he had intended only to show her this room tonight and then leave her to think about what would happen between them.

  But now her dress was bunched between them, her legs were locked around his back, her mouth was hungry on his own…and his cock didn’t give a damn how much she had been through. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to do it here in this playroom. He wanted it now.

  Without breaking the harsh contact of their lips, Gareth carried her over to the leather table in the middle of the room. He laid her back against the supple surface and covered her body with the curve of his own.

  She arched into him with a low, needy moan and a shiver of pleasure worked its way through him. God, but she was responsive. And perfectly molded for the life he wished to introduce her to. Her resistance would only make the surrender later al the more pleasurable. He pul ed back and looked down at her, spread across the table, her hair beginning to come down from the pretty style she had worn at supper. Her gown was stil tangled up around her thighs, the silky fabric wrinkled.

  He smiled at her, and to his surprise, she returned the expression with a wicked one of her own. The spark between them was almost too much. With shaking fingers, he grasped the pretty dark pink ribbon that tied beneath her perfect breasts and tugged. The bow opened, revealing a line of flower-shaped buttons beneath. He made quick work of those, too, and pushed the gap in the cloth open wide.

  His mouth came down as he shoved at the dress, moving it and the chemise beneath down over her arms and to her waist. Her breasts were pale in the glowing light of the chamber, their nipples a dark, dusky pink that almost matched her gown. Already they were hard, thrusting up toward him and begging to be sucked and touched.

  He didn’t resist, but dipped his head and sucked one into the cavern of his mouth. Beatrice’s head thrashed against the table and her fingers curved against the smooth surface as if she were grasping for purchase on the leather. He sucked harder and she gasped.

  He lifted his head. “You see what just a touch of pain can do, Beatrice?”

  Her eyes narrowed and he watched as her gaze flitted toward the riding crops on the wal beside them. Then she returned her eyes to him.

  “Do it again,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “No, no. Ask me.”

  Her lips thinned, but he didn’t move.

  “Please, do it again,” she final y murmured.

  “Do what?” he asked, determined to set her on the path he wanted.

  She glared. “Please suck my nipples, Gareth.”

  His mouth came back to cover her flesh, only instead of sucking he gently scraped his teeth across the sensitive nub of flesh. Beatrice yelped, her back arching into him at the sensation.

  He slipped his hands beneath her and pul ed, curving her back so that her breasts were offered to him perfectly, then he attended to his business with more purpose than before. Back and forth he moved between them, suckling one nipple until it was red with pleasure, then abandoning it for the other. Then, with purposeful slowness, he began to languidly lick the val ey between her breasts.

  She was crying out by the time he stopped, her body shaking. He scented her desire on the air, and knew instinctively that if he put his hands between her thighs, if he touched her clit, she would come with explosive power.

  But this was the beginning of her surrender, and if he gave her such pleasure without demanding something in return, she wouldn’t ful y understand or respect what he desired. So as tempting as her pleasure was, he did not touch her, but pul ed her back to her feet. She was panting, swaying as she stared at him. He remained silent as he watched her struggle with these new feelings of wanton desire, but did nothing. Final y she let out a harrumph of frustration.

  “What do you want?” she asked, her sharp tone back. “Tel me.”

  “Good girl,” he purred as he grasped the edging of her gown and pul ed it free from her body to pool at her feet. “Now you are starting to understand.”

  She kicked her slippers away as she stared up at him. “Then tel me.”

  “Do you recal when I pleasured you with my tongue?

  ”

  Her blush answered as much as her quick nod. His cock throbbed at both, and at the memory of her earthy flavor, her powerful orgasm.

  “I want to feel that mouth of yours around me,” he said, unfastening his trousers and letting them drop away. “I want you to pleasure me.”

  As Beatrice stared down at Gareth’s ful y aroused cock, she couldn’t help but shiver. She had her doubts that she could fit him between her lips, but once she did…what did she do then? It wasn’t as if people explained these things to ladies of her station.

  “There wil be no pleasure for you, my dear, unless you try,” he said softly.

  She glared at him. Whether she would ever admit it to him or not, he held al the power here. Why wouldn’t he use it? He had stated that the power was what he desired.

  And worse, the subtle strength of his—Was it a threat? Wel , whatever it was, it made her tingle and want him even more.

  “How?” she asked through clenched teeth. “Teach me.”

  He cocked his head, almost surprised at her quick acquiescence. “Get on your knees.”

  Hesitation fil ed her again. On her knees before this man? Practical y worshipping him? But then again, the idea of giving him pleasure was such a powerful one. Wouldn’t she have the upper hand if she did this right?

  For once, wouldn’t he be a slave to her?

  She slithered downward, kneeling on her discarded gown. Her face was even with the male thrust of him and she looked at it. The first time she looked upon him, she hadn’t noticed al the detail of the mushroom head, the fine veins that lined it, the teardrop of his essence that leaked from the tip. Without thinking, she reached out and touched him, gripping him as he had instructed her to do earlier and stroking him from base to tip.

  He moaned when she did so, bracing himself on the table where he had tortured her with his mouth just a few moments earlier.

  Beatrice was uncertain, but to her surprise instinct began to kick in. Some sort of primal connection that came from hundreds of generations of women who had pleasured hundreds of generations of men. So when she leaned forward and touched just the pointed tip of her tongue to his cock, it did not feel as foreign or strange as she had thought.

  In fact, it felt good. Right. She inched forward, grasping the base of his cock as she repeated the action, tonguing the tiny slit there as he had licked her earlier.

  “Great God,” he muttered from above her and his fingers laced into her hair.

  “Is this right?” she asked, looking up at him in question. “This is how you taste me.”

  He gripped his fists at his sides as he slowly nodded. His voice was strained when he said, “I like when you do that, but I want more. More of your mouth, more of your tongue. I want to be inside your body, one way or another.”

  She thought about the actions he had taken when he took her body earlier in the day. If he wanted her to mimic those movements, then what she was doing wasn’t quite right. She had been licking the opening, but now she understood. Her mouth was to be like her sheath, he wanted her to wrap herself around him like she had with her body when he made love to her. Stil uncertain, she drew him between her lips. He had an earthly flavor, not at al unpleasant and she rubbed her tongue on the underside of his member gently.

  It must have been the right thing to do, for his hips lifted, pushing another few inches into her mouth and he let out a curse.

  “Yes,” he cried out. “Now move around me.”

  Slowly, she lowered her lips, taking more of his hardness into her mouth. When
he hit her throat, she nearly gagged, but paused, relaxing her muscles as she struggled to take more of him, al of him. She mimicked his thrusts from earlier in the day. Back and forth, a slow taking that drove him deep and then eased him almost out of her mouth entirely. After a short time, she found a rhythm that was comfortable. She realized she liked the taste of him, she liked the feel of the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat. She most definitely liked his strangled moans as she pleasured him. Those little needy sounds made her body tingle and her most private, feminine parts ache to be touched.

  His fingers unclenched at his sides and then she felt them in her hair, pushing her locks away so he could look down at her face.

  She took him deeper and this time felt no discomfort. As she pul ed away, she licked gently, tasting him, stimulating him and loving how he sucked in a harsh breath of pleasure and desire.

  “Faster,” he groaned, his fingers tangling against her scalp. She relaxed as he began to push, showing her how deeply he liked to be taken, how quickly. It was amazing how easily she lost herself in an act she had never once considered or even pictured. If someone had told her a month ago that she would be taking a man’s erect penis between her lips, she might have slapped them, but now…now she reveled in that act. Reveled in Gareth’s passionate responses. She kept one hand firmly wrapped around his cock, but with the other she snaked down her naked body and slipped her fingers between her legs. She found her mound and burrowed inside, teasing the pearl of her pleasure with rapid, forceful movements.

  “Shit,” Gareth groaned from above her.

  Then suddenly she was being yanked away from him, dragged up his body. He pressed her back against the edge of the table and drove his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with purposeful thrusts as he rubbed his pelvis against hers.

  She began to open her legs, to invite him to take what he had so aroused, but before she could settle back, she found herself being spun until her back was to him. He arched up, his cock briefly breaching the soft globes of her backside and pressing against the forbidden entrance there. But then he adjusted and she felt his cock at her slit again.

  He bent over her, forcing her to lean over the table. His large hands slid down her arms, finding her hands and tangling their fingers together. She bucked back against him and his cock slid into her just a fraction, yet it was enough that they sighed in unison.

  His breath was hot against her neck, his tongue sweeping out to taste her as he rhythmical y arched against her without ful y breaching her. Then he pressed her fingers around the leather straps at the middle of the table.

  “Hold on,” he ordered, closing her fists so that she held the straps.

  She obeyed and clung tight. Now she saw why there were restraints here. She could be buckled in, forced to stand the way she was instead of asked to do so. Made to wait as he took his time examining her, bent over the table and ready for his bidding. She felt liquid heat seep from her entrance at just the thought of such a thing.

  But he didn’t seem interested in waiting or tormenting her tonight. He spread her open from behind and stroked his fingers over her soaked entrance. She heard him growl out satisfaction at her wet, hot state and then he took her.

  One thrust, hard and deep, and he was ful y seated within her. Her body was so sensitive, so ready that just that one action set off the first tremors of release throughout her body. Beatrice cried out, slamming back as she searched for more, begged for more with her actions.

  He gave her what she wanted. He reached around and pinched the hidden bundle of nerves within her folds while at the same time he pul ed back and slammed into her body forceful y.

  She shattered.

  For several blissful moments, her entire being grew focused on the area between her thighs. She didn’t care that she was screaming loudly enough to bring down the damned house. She didn’t care that she was giving Gareth so much power by letting him see how easily he could control her pleasure. Al she cared about was that wave after tremoring wave of complete ecstasy was overtaking her and she never wanted it to end.

  But it did. Slowly, she found herself coming out of the haze, her body occasional y twitching with the force of her release. Behind her Gareth pounded on, taking her over and over. He seemed to sense that her climax was over, for he slipped his hands from between her legs and instead covered her breasts, massaging gently as he worked his hips with merciless precision. The second release surprised her, for Beatrice had never thought she could so quickly lose control again. Her body began to tremble and she let go of the restraints, reaching back to cup Gareth’s neck and hold him to her as she was overcome by pleasure once again.

  His thrusts became erratic as she sobbed out his name and suddenly he was gone, pul ing away from her as she felt the hot spray of his essence splash across her lower back.

  They fel forward together across the table and Beatrice shut her eyes in exhaustion and utter, complete satisfaction.

  Chapter Eight

  B eatrice opened her eyes and looked around. She didn’t recognize her surroundings and through the bleary haze of sleep, she began to panic. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, only to find she was completely naked.

  That was when memory hit her in a few highly detailed bursts. She remembered her arrival, losing her virtue, the highly charged supper with Gareth and then the “tour” to his hidden room of pleasure of vice. She was back in his chamber now, wrapped in his sheets…but she was alone. And she had no idea how she had gotten here. The last thing she recal ed was Gareth pressing a few warm kisses along her naked spine.

  Gathering the sheets around her, she col ected her thoughts. After they made love in his special room, she must have fal en asleep. Certainly the events of the day had exhausted her. If that were true, it meant someone had carried her here. It was possible that someone had been a servant, but in her heart she was certain it had been Gareth.

  She shivered. In her sleep, she had been utterly vulnerable. He could have done anything he liked to her body. While she was unaware, she had no idea how long he had looked at her or what he had whispered or even how he had touched her. A shiver moved through her, but she refused to acknowledge any pleasure those thoughts brought her.

  She didn’t like that she had al owed him that kind of power.

  She looked at the clock beside the bed. It was after ten in the morning. How long had he been gone? Or had he slept here at al ?

  Wel , it was time to find out. She got up and found that a silken dressing gown had been left for her at the foot of the bed. She stared at the delicate fabric. It wasn’t something from her wardrobe, but it was obviously made for a woman of about her size. Had it once belonged to his late wife or perhaps a mistress?

  Or was it something just for her?

  Pursing her lips, Beatrice draped it around her shoulders and went to the bel at the door. As she tugged it to summon a servant to assist her in readying for the day, she took a deep breath.

  After a few moments, the door opened and a young maid stepped into the room. She gave Beatrice a nervous smile. “May I help you, miss?”

  “I wish to dress and then I want to see Lord Highcroft. And let us hurry it along.”

  The girl jolted into action and Beatrice sighed as she let her thoughts wander. Today was wel and truly the first day of this arrangement and after last night she was beginning to ful y understand what that meant, both for her body and for her soul. Gareth wanted something from her that she had never remotely considered sharing.

  He wanted everything.

  Although she had specifical y asked to be taken to Gareth as soon as she was dressed, a footman instead took her to the dining room. She stepped inside and looked around, annoyed to find she was alone.

  She turned on the man with a frown. “I told you to take me to your master.”

  Unlike most servants, this one looked her right in the eye. He didn’t seem to fear her, though his gaze held a healthy dose of contempt.

  “I do what th
e marquis asks of me, miss. Not you.”

  She folded her arms and let out her breath in a huff of outrage, hoping to hide how uncomfortable this situation made her. The other servants pretended not to know that she was Gareth’s whore. This one did not. And it was clear he had little respect for her.

  “You shal do whatever your betters say,” Beatrice snapped. “And you shal remember your place. Now what is your name?”

  The man simply glared.

  She marched forward, but her heart had begun to throb with anxiety. “You heard me. What is your name?”

  “Hodges,” came a quiet male voice from the entrance to the dining hal .

  Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut as she recognized it as Gareth’s. She also heard the deep disapproval in his tone. With a frown, she turned to face him. Gareth stared at her, though he continued to speak to his servant.

  “You may go.”

  The footman hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded his agreement and slipped past his master to disappear into the hal way.

  “You should put a tighter leash on your servants,”

  Beatrice said, turning to harshness to cover her discomfort at being caught speaking to his servants in such a way when it was clear he didn’t approve. Not to mention the strange thril that worked through her at being alone with Gareth after last night’s shocking events. “For a man who craves control, you have none whatsoever over that one.”

  Gareth stood in the doorway for a moment and then pushed away and entered the room. He strode to the spread of food laid out for their enjoyment and grabbed a plate from the buffet.

  “You are in rare form this morning, aren’t you, Beatrice?” he said as he placed a few items on his plate. “A good morning to you, too.”

  She folded her arms, the heat of embarrassment flooding her cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean by

  ‘rare form,’ sir.”

  Actual y, she did, but she wasn’t about to admit she had lashed out needlessly at a servant simply because she was uncomfortable. There was no need to explain herself to this or any other man.