Nothing Denied

by Jess Michaels

  A tiny smile quirked up the corner of her lip, but he also saw pure defiance sparkle in her stare. It was utterly arousing to see that tart expression there and know that Beatrice might have surrendered herself completely to him, but not to anyone else.

  She slipped her hands down the apex of her body and slowly loosened the knot at her waist. With a shake of her golden locks, she let her robe fal away. She was utterly, delectably naked beneath, rosy red nipples already at attention. Her smile widened.

  “No one tel s me what to do,” she whispered.

  “Except you. My lord.”

  Gareth crossed the room so fast that it seemed to surprise Beatrice, for she laughed nervously at his ardor. But when his arms came around her, her smile faded and she made no move to resist. In fact, her body molded to his and her mouth opened as he pressed his lips to hers. As he breathed her in, she let out a needy, passionate growl of pure pleasure. Gareth lifted her from her feet. Her legs locked around his waist as he carried her across the room to his bed. She didn’t let go, even as he laid her back across the soft coverlet and she didn’t break the hot, wet kiss.

  She was as hungry for him as he was for her. He could tel by the way she tore at his clothes, raking her nails across his skin as they tossed layer after layer aside. And al the while her hips kept grinding against his, rubbing his cock through the rapidly tightening confines of his trousers with a frustratingly perfect rhythm.

  “How did you do this to me?” she gasped as their fingers tangled at his waistband.

  Together they tugged at his belt and struggled with the fastenings of his pant waist. When his trousers final y hit the floor and he kicked them away, she drew back a fraction and looked at him from head to toe. He moaned as she licked her lips with a feral possessiveness that made his cock so hard it actual y ached.

  “What did I do?” he asked her as he positioned himself over her and braced his arms on either side of her head. But he didn’t enter her, not yet.

  “You have made me a wanton, so attuned and in longing to your body that I would beg for it. I would do anything you asked for it.” She shook her head in wonderment. “How did you do that?”

  He smiled. “I only awoke what you are, Beatrice. Who you are.”

  Slowly, he thrust forward. His cock breached her wet body with no resistance and he shuddered as her sheath clung to him as he moved within her. Her body was like a hot, wet glove, holding him so tight that he could easily explode like a green boy.

  “And what and who you are,” he panted, “is mine.”

  She nodded. “I’m yours.”

  Her words broke off on a cry as he thrust back and then pounded into her even harder than before. Her thighs tightened around his waist and she lifted into the harsh thrust.

  “And whatever else you are, in my bed, you submit to my every desire and you trust that I wil take care of you,” he whispered.

  She nodded silently, her face twisted in a mask of pure ecstasy and he pul ed back so his cock was almost entirely out of her body. When she gave a low whimper of longing, he shook his head.

  “Say the words, Beatrice.”

  “In your bed, in your arms, you are the master,” she admitted. “And I know you wil withhold release and also make me come al with my ultimate pleasure in mind.”

  He drew back and straightened her long, smooth legs, draping her knees over his shoulders. And then he took her. There was no doubt in the taking. Their coupling was fast and hard and infinitely animal. He drove into her with no mercy, driving her toward pleasure and desire and the future with every arch of his hips.

  She thrashed helplessly, lifting her hips into his every thrust and crying out as she was fil ed by him. Her fingers fisted in the bedsheets, her head rocked back and forth. He could feel her getting so close to pleasure, but she never quite found it.

  Because she needed his permission.

  Final y, after al the years of searching, after al the pain of Laurel’s repulsion over what he was and what he needed…here, lying beneath him, accepting his cock, was the perfect woman for him.

  One who had surrendered herself to him in every way, despite how terrifying a prospect that was to her.

  “Come for me, Beatrice,” he murmured, granting her the gift she had earned with her trust and submission. There was no doubt she had been on the edge for a long time, because her orgasm was the most intense he had seen her experience. Her screams fil ed the air, so loud that he began to wonder if she might bring the house down. Her body thrashed and trembled and it seemed to go on forever as he continued to take her and guide her through the pleasure, toward the final release.

  Final y, she went limp beneath him, completed satiated. He hadn’t found his release yet, but stil he withdrew from her trembling sheath and took a place beside her, his hard cock, stil wet with her essence, resting against her thigh.

  Her eyes came open and she looked at him.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered as she glanced down. “You didn’t…”

  “Not yet,” he said, brushing back tangled locks from her face. “Today I asked you a question, but before you could reply we were interrupted by the arrival of your sister and her husband.”

  She nodded and he noted that her legs stil trembled from her orgasm. “Yes.”

  “Do you have an answer for me?”

  She sat up a fraction. “I told Ethan and Miranda that I would marry you. You heard me say it.”

  A shrug was his reply. “You said it, but it was as much to upset them as it was any other reason.”

  Her lips pursed with displeasure for a brief moment, but then she smiled. “I suppose there was some element of that to my saying it.”

  “I want an answer that is only for me,” he said. “I want to know if you wil marry me.”

  “Are you certain you stil want to wed even after Ethan

  and

  Miranda’s

  highhandedness?”

  she

  whispered and now she pressed a hand to his chest. He nodded.

  She drew in a deep breath. “Yes. I want to marry you.

  ”

  The relief that made itself known in every part of Gareth’s mind and soul was not something he had expected when he made this bargain. But then, so much about Beatrice had been a delightful surprise. And now he had a lifetime to discover even more about her. They were certainly compatible in bed and he liked her, despite of…or perhaps because of how prickly she could be. She was a chal enge and he liked that about her.

  “You are staring,” she whispered. “Did you want something more from me?”

  He grinned. “Yes, something more.”

  Her eyes lit up as her gaze flitted down to his stil hard cock. Then she leaned over and kissed him, hot and wet and fil ed with surrender and possession and desire.

  “What can I do for you, my lord?” she whispered, her blue eyes lifting as she met his gaze.

  He shivered with pleasure at al the wonderful images her question created. It was like he was a child brought to a sweet shop and told he could have anything and everything he desired. How could he choose with such delicacy spread out before him?

  He smiled. “There are so many answers to your question, my dear, I can scarcely pick just one.”

  A light laugh unlike any he’d ever heard from her escaped her lips and made him look at her more closely.

  “Why pick one then?” she said, batting her eyes in a most fetching way.

  Leaning down, he caught her cheeks and dragged her in for a hot, hard kiss. She melted into him, arching her hips against his and nearly unmanning him in the process.

  With much difficulty, he pul ed away and stared down at her. “I do have one desire.”

  “Name it.”

  He met her gaze evenly. “I would like to claim the one last virgin place in your body.”

  Her eyes widened with confusion and a tinge of worry.

  “Wha—”

  Gareth reached out and gently parted
the globes of her bottom. Pressing his fingers against the tight hole there, he held her stare without so much as blinking. Beatrice swal owed hard, al playful y sensual thoughts fleeing her mind. She recal ed the last time he had touched her like he was touching her now. Just his finger had brought her so much pleasure, but also pain, and his cock was so much larger. She couldn’t imagine him fitting it into the shal ow channel he wished to breach.

  “Is–is that possible?” she asked.

  He leaned forward and placed a brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “I would not suggest it if it weren’t.”

  Beatrice stared, as taken aback by the sweetness of his kiss as she was by the shock of his suggestion. But final y, she nodded. It was time for the final surrender.

  “Gareth, I have given over my pleasure to you. In al ways, you are the master of it. And if this is what you want and what you believe I need, then…”

  She didn’t finish, but instead rol ed to her stomach and lifted her backside up in mute offering.

  Gareth let out a lewd curse and Beatrice couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t expected such bold surrender, even if he wanted it. Surprising him was a pleasure.

  He moved behind her slowly, parting her legs to kneel between them on the bed behind her. Beatrice put her face into the pil ows, readying herself for pain, praying for pleasure to balance it.

  But Gareth didn’t simply take. His warm hands cupped her bottom, gently massaging the flesh there, reverently stroking her as if he were worshipping a goddess.

  She relaxed at the pleasurable touch, sighing into the pil ows as the tension bled from her muscles. He leaned over her to open a drawer in the table beside his bed. She didn’t lift her head to see what he retrieved, but when he moved back over her and returned his hands to her skin, she gasped when a warm liquid touched her.

  Lifting her head, she looked over her shoulder. Gareth loomed over her, his hard cock tight to his stomach and his big hands coated in some kind of wet, oily substance.

  “What is that?” she whispered.

  “Only olive oil,” he murmured as he glided his hands back to her bottom. “It wil help.”

  She nodded, mesmerized as she watched his oily hands caress her skin. Without any friction to hinder his touch, it was a whole new experience. It was like she was underwater, and yet she was so much more sensitive to the warmth of his skin, the brush of his fingers.

  “Gareth,” she choked out, clutching the pil ow above her with gripping fingers.

  He didn’t answer, but instead parted her bottom again and slipped his slick fingers between the globes. With the added lubrication, her channel offered nothing to stop him and his finger glided inside of her without any trouble or the pain she had experienced before. The ful ness of his fingers was different in this forbidden place than it was when he took her pussy. Because she was untried, the sensations were far more raw and her reactions were less control ed. She fisted her hands against the pil ow and cried out softly.

  “You are so tight around me,” he groaned, the tension clear in his voice. “And so hot, Beatrice. So hot. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

  “I want that, my lord,” she said, slipping easily into her role as his supplicant. “I want to feel you within me. Please.”

  He chuckled. “Such a good little wanton. But I must ready you. Relax and let me pleasure you.”

  She nodded with only a brief glance at him over her shoulder. And then, perhaps for the first time, she truly gave herself over to him without question, without worry. She forgot al her fears and trusted him to save her, to take her, to make her whole with his body. He didn’t disappoint. He stroked one finger in and out, lubricating her tight channel with the oil he had spread over his fingers. When she was moaning and thrusting back in time, he added a second digit. She felt him stretching her ever so slowly, widening her in readiness for his much bigger erection.

  Then a third finger joined. By this time, she was thrashing against the pil ow, lifting her hips helplessly as her empty pussy clenched and wept for him.

  “Touch yourself, Beatrice,” he said, his tone harsh in the quiet room. “And you have my permission to come. Come for me, over and over.”

  Greedy, Beatrice slid shaking fingers between her legs. When she cupped the mound there, she found she was already wet, ready to be taken. But Gareth would not return to her clenching body tonight. No, he was giving her a new experience.

  She yelped in pleasure as she stroked her fingers over herself. With Gareth’s permission to find pleasure as often as she liked ringing in her ears, she brought herself to swift relief within a few hard strokes.

  “Gareth!” she cried out as waves of pleasure washed over her. She continued to stroke herself as she came, overcome by the never-ending stretch of his fingers and the fluttering brush of her own. She felt ful and alive and so aware of her own desire that it seemed like her world revolved around it.

  Just as her first orgasm faded, she felt Gareth shift. He pressed the head of his cock to the rosette of her bottom and then rested there, his breath coming hard and hot behind her.

  She was weak with release, but Beatrice made herself look at him. “It feels so good,” she moaned.

  “And it wil be better,” he promised, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight. “Let me take you. Relax and let the pain wash away and be replaced by a sensation that wil make your pleasure al the better.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  With her permission given, Gareth pressed forward. At first he was slow, letting her body relax around him, breaching her with steady, even pressure. He felt Beatrice clench her muscles just the slightest bit and knew she was feeling the pain of the joining, even though he had readied her and lubricated her channel and his member.

  “Relax,” he soothed. “Touch your clit. Feel the pleasure with the pain.”

  She hesitated for a moment and he almost thought she would pul away, but instead her trembling fingers moved between her legs. She worked herself with purpose, rubbing her clit, gently fingering herself and with every stroke her bottom relaxed, letting him inch forward bit by bit until he fil ed her completely.

  “God,” he moaned, “You feel so good, sweetling. So tight around me.”

  She didn’t respond, but instead cried out as a second orgasm moved through her. Gareth let his head flop back. Her sheath fluttered and trembled, he felt it through the thin separation between the two channels and it massaged his cock in a most pleasurable way. Beatrice continued to writhe beneath him and Gareth drew back ever-so-gently and then thrust forward. Her cries intensified, but she didn’t tense and he realized that the thrust had only made her orgasm more powerful. Her body had accepted what he desired.

  He thrust again, stil gentle, but deeper, taking and taking, loving how she clenched against him, how she continued to pleasure herself as she heaved out heavy breaths and moans. She came a third time and just as the tremors of that release faded, a fourth.

  Beatrice could hardly breathe, the pleasure was so intense. She was a slave to it now, a slave to the burning heat in one entrance and the shuddering thril of the other. She wanted more, she wanted Gareth, she wanted this forever.

  “I’m yours,” she cried out, her hips slamming back against his thrusts and demanding he take her harder.

  “I’m yours.”

  Her admission seemed to drive him over the edge. He let out an animal cry unlike anything she’d ever heard before. His thrusts, which had been gentle, turned harsh, punishing, and suddenly she felt the ripple of his release fil her as he flopped over her to cover her body with his.

  They lay like that for some time and final y he sat up and gently withdrew from her sore, used bottom.

  “I’m sorry,” he gasped as he reached for a cloth beside the bed and cleaned her gently. “I should not have lost control. It was ungentlemanly of me.”

  She smiled as she rol ed over beneath him and looked up at him. Catching his cheeks, she drew him closer.

  “I
’ve never mistaken you for a gentleman, Gareth,”

  she whispered.

  A swift, sensual grin was her reward and she basked in the warmth of his amused regard. Then he pushed a bit of her hair away.

  “Stil , I could have prepared you. I could have control ed myself,” he said softly.

  She shrugged. “If we are to be married, then it seems we wil each have to trust the other. You can lose control with me just as easily as you take it from me.”

  Gareth stared at her for a long moment, then his arms came around her and he drew her against his chest with a contented sigh. But as Beatrice closed her eyes and began to slip into sleep, she couldn’t help but be troubled that Gareth hadn’t responded to her statement. Although they would be married and she did trust him with her body and her future, she didn’t know i f he could trust her enough to give himself to her as she did to him.

  And the idea that she would be the only one surrendering left her feeling empty and vulnerable for the first time since she had given herself to the man who would soon be her husband.

  Chapter Fifteen

  B eatrice slipped from Gareth’s chamber and quietly shut the door behind her. A few days before she would have felt awkward leaving the room where she could be seen by any servant or even her sister or brother-inlaw, but today she felt no shame or worry. Al had been resolved between her and Gareth. There was nothing left to do but marry.

  With a smile, she moved down the long stairway and the hal way to the dining room. As she neared the room, she heard sounds within the chamber. Her smile fel as she realized it was Ethan and Miranda whispering within, despite any attempts they made to muffle their voices. Though she couldn’t make out the words, from their concerned tones it was clear her family stil harbored trepidations about her relationship and future with Gareth.

  She stared at the cracked door. It wasn’t that she was a coward, but last night had been so wonderful that she didn’t want to come down from the high that stil pulsed through her. She didn’t want to return to her usual role of explaining and defending herself to people who simply didn’t understand her needs. Not like Gareth did.