His Curious Imp

by Melinda Barron

  His Curious Imp

  The Rakes of Mayfair Book 4

  Melinda Barron

  Blushing Books

  ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Melinda Barron

  All rights reserved.

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  Melinda Barron

  His Curious Imp

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-774-5

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Contents

  What’s Inside

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Melinda Barron

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  What’s Inside

  “You will stand perfectly still while I undress you. One movement and I will tie you to the bed and go downstairs, leaving you frustrated beyond belief. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Fergus,” she said. His threat excited her almost as much as the idea of him taking her.

  “Arms out to your sides, Gabriella,” he said. She followed his order. He stepped behind her and put his arms around her. He fumbled against the ruined clothing and found her breasts, cupping and massaging them until she groaned.

  “So soft and warm,” he said. “I’m going to nuzzle these beautiful orbs, burying my face in between them before I attack your nipples, nibbling on them, sucking them, teasing them until you beg for mercy.”

  She wanted to ask if this was him writing his story, or if this was just him. She hoped it was him, giving over to his desires for her.

  Fergus moved to her front, unbuttoning the few buttons that he hadn’t popped when he’d ripped her bodice. He had her lower her arms, one at a time, so he could remove the material from her body. When it was off he dropped it to the floor before he leaned over and kissed her.

  Fergus stopped her from speaking by putting his finger against her lips. Her arms were still at her sides as he undid her skirt and had her step out, first of the skirt and then of her petticoat. That left her in her shift, and corset.

  He made a circle around her, and rather than feeling angry that he was obviously examining her she felt as if he were memorizing every part of her body, seeing which part to caress, to kiss.

  “Fergus.”

  “Yes, Gabriella?”

  “I need you.”

  “You have me, right here,” he said. He kissed her shoulder. At his instructions she let her arms drop to her sides and closed her eyes as he removed her shift. In her mind she watched from afar as he caressed her skin. He ran his fingers up and down her sides and she shivered at his touch, even though he wasn’t touching her bare skin, since she still wore her corset.

  He moved behind her once again and unlaced her corset, his fingers touching her skin gently as he worked the laces. To her surprise he didn’t loosen it all the way down, just so her breasts were free.

  Fergus circled her once again before he stopped and he dropped his head to her breasts and suckled until she moaned. She swayed and he put his arms around her waist as he continued to suck. Then he stopped, picked her up in his arms and took her to the bed. He tossed her onto the mattress and then backed away and started to undress. He treated his buttons as he’d done with her own. She took a sharp intake of breath as he bared his muscular chest, lightly covered in soft dark hair, and then lowered his pants to reveal his hardened manhood.

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  Chapter 1

  March 1888, London

  Gabriella Saunders sighed loudly and pushed her empty baby pram back and forth as if trying to soothe its invisible occupant.

  “Hush, Gabby,” John McNutt said as he stared at the crowd in St. James Park. “At least Phillips let you come along as a prop. You could be sitting back at your desk in front of your typewriting machine instead of enjoying this beautiful spring day.”

  Gabby knew that he’d been staring at the women, instead of watching for their intended subjects.

  “You hush, McNutt,” Gabby countered. “I’m a much better writer than you are and you well know it. The only reason I’m not a reporter is because I’m a woman. I could write circles around you.”

  McNutt straightened his shoulders and stared at the beautiful woman sitting next to him. Her job at this point was to be his ‘wife’ to make his long stay in the park less noticeable. He was searching for a pickpocket who had been plaguing the gentlemen enjoying the delights of the St. James Park for some time.

  McNutt’s editor, Mark Phillips, was sure that if McNutt could find the pickpocket it would lead him to a larger crime ring that The London Sentinel could take credit for breaking up.

  “Write circles around me?” He took his eye off the crowd and stared at the black-haired woman who had a deep frown on her face. “You’re a woman. If you aspire to be a writer, then you should be sitting at home trying to be the next Jane Austen. Leave reporting to the men who know what they’re doing.”

  “If you knew what you were doing we would not have had to sit in this park for the past seven days looking for something that has been right under your nose. See that towheaded boy over there? He’s lightened the pocke
ts of three gentlemen in the past twenty minutes.”

  McNutt turned to stare at the boy in question. The youngster was now running toward the park entrance.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Well, remember, McNutt, I’m only a woman.” Gabby batted her eyes and fanned her hand in front of her face. “I should be at home, trying to be the next Jane Austen, not doing your job for you.”

  McNutt took off at a run after the boy and Gabby broke out in gales of laughter, pushing the pram back and forth as she snickered. She shouldn’t be laughing, really. She was never going to fulfill her dream of being a newspaper reporter. Her sex hampered her desires. She wasn’t lying when she said she could write circles around McNutt. Many times he would ask her for advice on how to word a sentence. The laughter disappeared moments later when her name rang out.

  “Gabby Saunders? I don’t believe it.”

  Gabby swallowed nervously and then turned to stare as Charlotte Hughes, now Lady Essex, moved toward her park bench, determination and fascination in her eyes. Gabby couldn’t believe that in all of London she would happen upon her old school friend. Charlotte had always been nice to her, and she’d suffered a series of unfortunate events when her husband had been killed, and she’d been accused. But her new husband, Lord Dalton Essex, had cleared her name, and married her.

  And here was Gabby, unmarried and toiling away at a newspaper office. And she sat in a park, with an empty baby pram sitting near her. Her already tarnished reputation was about to take a huge hit.

  “Charlotte!” Gabby stood and stepped in front of the pram as if to block it from view. “My goodness it’s been years. How are you?”

  Charlotte pulled her in for a hug and Gabby stared at Charlotte’s husband, who watched with amusement as he talked to a very handsome man whom Gabby didn’t recognize.

  “I can’t believe it’s been so long,” Charlotte said with a grin. “Long enough for you to give birth to a little one. I have two now, both boys.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard,” Gabby said. She searched her mind for a convincing reason to have a baby buggy with her. Nothing came to mind. If she tried to ignore it, would Charlotte take the hint? Probably not. One thing Gabby and Charlotte always shared was a healthy sense of curiosity.

  And Gabby was right. Charlotte peered over Gabby’s shoulder toward the carriage and raised her eyebrows.

  “I hadn’t heard about your child,” she said, lowering her voice. “May I see?”

  Charlotte stepped toward the pram at the same time McNutt rushed back, anger written all over his face.

  “This is your fault, Saunders! I’m going to demand that you be sacked. If I hadn’t been arguing with you I would never have lost that subject. A perfect example of why a woman will never make a good reporter.”

  “Don’t blame your failures on me, McNutt,” Gabby answered. She tried, and failed, to stop the smile that lit her face. “You’re the one who didn’t notice what was happening. I’m sure Mr. Phillips will be happy to hear that.”

  Gabby glanced at Charlotte, who had stopped from lifting back the pram cover to watch the scene unfold before her.

  “Just the same, this is your fault, do you hear me? I wouldn’t have been distracted. Your immediate termination is required and I shall see that it happens right away.”

  McNutt’s angry voice carried through the crowded park and several people stopped to stare.

  “You’re repeating yourself, McNutt,” Gabby said. “Of course, you do have a very small vocabulary. It shows in your work.”

  He opened his mouth to speak again and the man standing with Lord Essex put his hand on McNutt’s forearm.

  “Sir, I would ask that you lower your voice when speaking with a lady. I’m sure she doesn’t deserve whatever abuse you are sending her way.”

  “I would thank you, sir, to mind your own business,” McNutt replied, seconds before Lord Essex moved to put a protective arm around Charlotte’s shoulder.

  “Strange words from someone who makes a living sticking his nose into other people’s business,” the unknown man replied.

  McNutt had the forethought to blush. Then with a loud humph he left the group without another word.

  “Thank you, sir,” Gabby said, staring at her striking rescuer. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe him. Well over six feet with hair as black as her own and beautiful green eyes, a strong chin, a full nose and a fantastic smile. Probably early 30s. Most definitely a man who attracted her. Too bad she was so far under his class.

  “Gabby, allow me to introduce Lord Fergus McIntyre,” Charlotte said with a giggle. “Fergus this is Gabriella Saunders. We attended classes together in our youth. And Gabby, you remember my husband, Lord Dalton Essex.”

  How could she forget? She’d only seen him once, but she remembered being jealous of Charlotte’s luck in finding such a perfect man.

  Lord Essex inclined his head at the same time Lord McIntyre bent his own over Gabby’s hand and brushed his lips lightly over her knuckles. It sent a chill down her spine and she shivered as he locked eyes with her.

  “Lord Essex, Lord McIntyre,” she whispered in greeting. She tried to pull her hand away and he held it a moment longer than necessary, increasing the chill to a full-fledged quiver. When he let go he gave her a wicked grin.

  “Your, um, friend, seemed to be in a bit of a temper,” Fergus said.

  “McNutt is not my friend, thank God,” Gabby replied. “He is merely a co-worker at the newspaper where I am employed. Or at least I was employed, until he gets back and tells our editor that I ruined his story, which I did not.”

  Charlotte took a tentative step toward the pram and peered over the bonnet.

  “It’s empty, Charlotte,” Gabby said. “Merely a prop so that McNutt and I could pass ourselves off as a married couple out for a stroll in the park and not attract attention to ourselves.”

  “Oh my stars how exciting and adventurous,” Charlotte said with a giggle. “Tell me who you were after. What is the story about? Does this mean you gather news for the paper?”

  Gabby shook her head and shifted from foot to foot. “Charlotte…”

  “My love, I think this is not the proper place for disclosure,” Lord Essex said.

  Gabby smiled at him gratefully. Then felt her heart quicken at his next words.

  “Gabby must tell us at dinner tonight at our house. Fergus you come, too. I’m sure the tale will be most amusing. Shall we say around eight? I’ll send a carriage for you if you’ll just give me your address.”

  “No, I couldn’t have you do that,” Gabby said, working hard to come up with an excuse for not going to dinner at the Essexes’ home. This was getting out of hand. The first problem would be giving him her address in a less fashionable part of London. She couldn’t possibly attend dinner at the home of a lord, even if she was a schoolgirl acquaintance of his wife. She had nothing fashionable enough to wear for such an event.

  “I agree,” Fergus said. “I’ll just pick you up in my carriage on the way there.”

  Gabby felt her heart race even faster. If it continued at this pace it would surely burst from her chest and fall onto the ground to hop around. His Scottish accent was incredible. She wondered what he looked like in a kilt, and if he were a married man. Stupid, stupid Gabby she said to herself. He wouldn’t offer to come by in his carriage if he had a wife.

  “No, no, I can find my own way there,” Gabby said. “Eight it is.”

  Without waiting for another word she hurriedly pushed the pram toward the park entrance, wondering which of her dresses was the least mended and could be worn to dinner at the Essex house.

  * * *

  “Tell me everything about her, Charlotte,” Fergus said as he stretched his long legs in front of the carriage seat.

  Fergus knew how Gabby looked. Beautiful. Just beautiful. Perhaps a stone or two overweight but she carried it in all the right places. Curvy hips and large breasts. Beautiful brown eyes with j
ust a hint of green. Full lips and a pert little nose. He wondered what those lips would look like wrapped around his prick. It was an incredibly erotic thought and he shifted to hide the growing bulge in his trousers.

  Charlotte laughed and leaned into her husband’s chest.

  “Gabby is a wonderful woman, although I haven’t seen her in a few years,” Charlotte said. “I saw her right after we married, do you remember, darling, at the theater?”

  Essex nodded and kissed his wife’s forehead.

  “She had a falling out with her parents years ago, a rather public one. But Gabby has always been the adventurous sort. She was always interested in writing but I had no idea she worked at a newspaper.”

  “No other family?” A frown marked Fergus’ handsome features.

  “None.”

  “And she never married?”

  Charlotte’s smile disappeared. “Gabby is, well, she was, how do I say this politely. Dalton?”

  “She’s not a virgin,” Essex answered. “As Charlotte told me the lady and a young lad had a lover’s tryst in their early twenties. He’d promised to marry her and Gabby, being the adventurous sort as Charlotte said, agreed to give him her maidenhead before marriage. Not only did he leave her at the altar he made sure that everyone knew that she was ruined.”

  “I hope he was horsewhipped,” Fergus said harshly.

  “No,” Charlotte said. “But Gabby was destroyed in our town. No decent man would look at her. He still lives there. I hear he’s unhappily married though. Of course, all the men wanted to lie with her after, thinking she would spread her thighs for them, which she refused I might add. She moved to London after her father died and I lost touch with her until today. It’s strange how the world works, isn’t it?”