by Lavinia Kent
How was she supposed to know what to do when she wasn’t even sure how she felt? “I will do my best, Mother.” And if she kept the walk short, she should still have time to find the folly and visit with Colton.
“I am sure you will, my dear. You are always such a good daughter.”
If only her mother knew.
—
Colton stood in the folly, looking out over the sun-dappled water, contemplating what he had planned.
He knew it was not wise, foolish even, and yet he could not resist the promise inherent in every one of Angela’s precious smiles. He sucked in a deep breath.
He had never been a fool, and yet she made him one.
When he’d seen her leave to stroll down to the lake with Lord Thorton, he’d felt a strange desire to intercede, to cause a public scene. He didn’t want her smiling with anyone but him.
Fool.
And it was not simply the desire to get her here, to take this game one step further.
It truly was that smile, that laugh, the desire to sit by the side of the lake and fish without bait.
He forced his mind from such dangerous territory and stared at the small satchel he had brought with him, thought about what it contained. Was his angel ready?
He thought of her fantasy, of her French lieutenant, of her secret desires.
Yes—or, at least, she would be.
—
Angela nodded a polite farewell to Lord Thorton and headed up the steps to the house. The man was not unpleasant, except when he decided to lecture her on her duty. They’d spent half the walk talking about several mutual friends, and he had been far more amusing than she had expected. He’d actually turned the conversation to England’s foreign interests, and if his tone had been a bit simplistic, he had only once asked if she could follow and if she found the conversation too taxing.
“You should take a rest before dinner,” her mother said, stepping out from a side parlor.
Could she manage to go up to her room and then slip out? “That sounds like a most wonderful idea.”
“Should I have your maid sent up?”
“No, I’ll be fine. This dress is quite easy to loosen.” And that was true. She’d been careful to choose one that morning that she could free herself from and slip back into with minimal help. She did not know exactly how handy Colton was with laces and ties—and she expected she did not want to know any more than she already did about his past.
A brief image of him standing with the naked actress suddenly filled her mind, but she shook it away. She would not let that interfere—not now.
Her mother patted her cheek. “If you are sure. I know I always rest much better when stripped to my chemise.”
“I will be fine, Mother. You worry too much.”
“And I was glad to see that you kept a few feet between yourself and Lord Thorton.”
“Of course, Mother.” She hadn’t wanted to be any nearer to Thorton anyway. The man still gave her the most unpleasant shivers. There was something about him that wasn’t quite right, even when he was being amusing.
She hurried up the stairs and into her room. Colton had been right: The window was much too far from the ground to present any possible escape route. She peeked out the door and slipped into the corridor. Somehow she would have to make it out of the house and then back down to the lake without being seen.
Although, even if she was seen, she would only say that she’d found herself unable to rest and had decided to take advantage of the beautiful day. Surely nobody could object to that. Well, some could, but it would not be enough to cause talk.
Getting out of the house presented little problem. If one had careful ears and quiet feet, all that was necessary was to listen before making any turn. The lawns were a different issue. The wide expanse of green was easily visible from the house. Still, if she walked first through the rose garden—a more-than-appropriate occupation for a young lady—and then darted around the far side of the maze, she would be most of the way to freedom. There would still be a bit of clear grass before she could enter the trees that edged the left side of the lake, but it would be hard to tell who she was from distance. There had been several ladies dressed in gowns of a similar shade to her own.
A slow, peaceful walk through the roses, stopping several times to smell the blooms, still full and fragrant despite the cold edge to the air. A hurried scurry behind the high hedges of the maze. She breathed easy for a moment and then kept a sedate pace as she walked to the wood. Nothing was worse than looking as if one was doing something wrong.
The trees closed about her and she took another deep breath. The woods were not thick, but they should hide her well enough. Now to find the folly.
She walked deeper, letting the minutes pass, keeping the glimmering lake just in sight through the trunks.
The glow of white ahead. That must be it.
She approached it with care. It would not do to interrupt someone other than Colton.
It was a darling folly, a small Grecian temple, walled on one side but open save for a few graceful columns facing the lake. Moss had begun to cover the northern side, but it seemed more designed than uncared for, a gentle rustic touch to suit the setting. She walked to the lake side and peered in.
Colton sat there, a small satchel by his side, his legs spread and at ease. A smile of welcome slipped across his features and then was hidden—but she had not missed it. He gestured her in and waved to a spot beside him on the bench.
She walked over and sat; a cold breeze fluttered off the lake, fighting the gentle heat of the late-afternoon sun that poured between the columns. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to him.
He stared out across the still waters of the lake, saying nothing.
She started to speak but caught herself, instead looking out across the twinkling water herself.
It was a beautiful spot, quiet and peaceful. If she had known it was here, perhaps she would have ended her walk here yesterday. Leaning back against the marble wall, she let herself relax for the first time in hours. It was not until this very second that she realized how much effort had been involved in talking to Lord Thorton and then escaping her mother. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sun upon her face.
Could it be more relaxing to be with someone than to be alone? She’d certainly never found it so before, but with Colton it felt as if she could just be herself. Had it been this way before she’d begun the game? She rather thought it had not. Always before she’d felt such pressure to be the perfect young lady, the quiet prospective bride. Now it was hard to define what had changed.
She was still playing a game. She should have been less herself, but somehow in promising to do what he wanted, she took all pressure off herself. If he was not pleased with her, it was his fault, not hers.
“I like the smile. It suits you. Now take off your clothes.” There was no change in his tone between the first statement and the last.
Chapter 15
Already?
She pulled a deep breath in, seeking calm, even as the first spike of excitement swept through her.
Her lips parted to speak, but she’d learned the rules of this game. Still, another minute to adjust to his command was needed. She stood and turned her back to him. “Would you mind loosening my laces? I can manage, but it is really more efficient if you help.”
He didn’t answer, but she felt the brush of his fingers at her back, and then the dress fell loose. Without turning, she shrugged it from her shoulders and then loosened the front fastening of her corset. She let that drop to the floor to join her dress. She started to pull her chemise up over her head, but his rough voice stopped her.
“No, leave it for a moment. I enjoy how the sun shines through. Walk forward and place a hand on each of those two columns. Yes, stretch your arms over your head. Perfect. If the day were warmer, I’d have you splash yourself in the lake. There are few sights more tantalizing than a breast through wet linen. Unfortunately, although I’d enjoy seeing you
r breasts cold and damp, I’d rather not see you with a red dripping nose on the morrow.”
The humor of his words should have hindered the desire that continued to sweep through her, but she was beginning to learn that when she was with Colton, nothing could stop the burn that began low in her belly. An icy rain would probably do nothing but cause her skin to steam.
The sun was hot on her face as she stood looking out over the lake. Her eyes closed as she soaked it up, letting her mind wander. She felt like a pagan goddess, displayed for all, awaiting the prince who would come rescue her—or the master who would steal her. Now, that might be even better than rescue. She was more than ready to meet her fate.
Colton’s boots scraped against the marble floor and she sensed that he had come to stand behind her. Her belly quivered.
“Slip your chemise off, but do not turn about.” Ahh, definitely the master and not the prince. “Yes, just like that, slowly, up and over your head. Bare yourself to me slowly. Yes. Yes. Now stay stretched up like that, place your hands on the columns. Yes, move on to your tiptoes even. Perfect.”
His boots scuffed against the stones as he stepped away.
It was strange to stand in the sunlight bare as a babe. In some ways it was even stranger than what they had done last night. Daylight added a whole new feel to this adventure, a rawness, a realness. Again she let her mind move to fantasy. If before she had dreamed of soldiers and spies, now she returned to that image of goddess and capture.
A single finger trailed down her back, steadying as he traced a whirl of patterns, before continuing downward, reminding her who was in control. Her master stopped just above the cleft of her buttocks. His finger held still and she waited, resisting the cry to urge him on.
Still he did not move.
What was he doing? What was he planning?
“I had considered something even more adventurous for this afternoon, but I have decided that wisdom lies with caution. We will not yet do anything that cannot be undone.”
A deep breath left her. Translating those words was not difficult; her master was not yet ready to take her completely, to make her fully his.
“Is that relief or disappointment?”
“I do not know.” And that was the complete truth. The goddess’s body longed to know the secrets that she sensed only he could teach her, but Angela did understand the consequences of losing her virginity.
His finger left her back. “Turn around.”
The master had returned.
With a nervous swallow, she did, letting her mind drift again to that world where only this moment mattered.
He was so close. If she breathed deep, her breasts would brush his chest, tease him.
He stared down at her, his eyes half closed. She could feel the weight of his consideration.
His breath was warm and soft upon her cheek. He took a step away, his eyes sweeping over her. Small fires burned wherever his gaze touched. The goddess stood tall and proud, her hands still resting high on the two columns, aglow with desire. Her master enjoyed her, enjoyed the sight of her body in the sun. Her shoulders moved back, her breasts thrusting even higher, a pagan sacrifice to his need.
“You look like an offering,” he said, unconsciously echoing her thoughts. His gaze focused on her tightly peaked breasts.
“I am yours,” she whispered, eyes dropping.
“Then it is time to claim my bounty as I see fit, time to take my spoils.” He walked to the satchel and pulled out several short lengths of rope and a piece of tarp. He dropped the tarp to the floor a few feet from the marble bench.
He turned to her, holding up the rope, a last question in his eyes.
—
Ahh, the expression on her face was worth a fortune, anxiety and want combining. He had read her fantasies correctly. Colton stepped forward, holding out the rope, and lifted his arm to rub it against her cheek. “It’s very soft. Cotton. Nothing that will abrade your fragile skin. I wanted to give you a chance to explore what it feels like to be bound, to be helpless as you were in your dream of your lieutenant.”
She swallowed, her eyes growing even wider. He could sense her nervousness but also her intrigue. For a moment he was tempted to pull her into his arms, to crush her to him and cherish her. Cherish her. He stared down at the rope. Swallowed, hard. He lifted the rope higher, feeling her gaze follow.
Then her eyes returned to his, asking a question he dared not explore. She nodded once, biting down on that full lower lip.
“Turn around.”
She did, the lush curves of her ass jiggling with the movement.
He swallowed again, but this time for a different reason. “Bring your hands behind you.”
Again she complied, although a shiver took her, and he caught her delicate hands easily between his much larger ones, wrapping the thick rope from her wrists halfway to the elbows. He pressed her arms tight together, noting the strain. After waiting a moment, he pivoted her to face him, looking for her response.
She took the time to consider. Her arms pushed against the ropes, but not hard. Yes, she definitely could feel the pull and the strain.
Her eyes rose to his again. She continued to bite down on her lower lip but did not protest. She shivered—not from cold. Using his hands to rotate her, he wrapped another rope tight about her. He spun her again, and then again, crisscrossing her chest with the rope, forcing her breasts high. “Very, very pretty,” he said.
Her whole body was quivering, more and more with each tightening. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart beneath his fingers. He placed a finger on her neck, savoring the strength of that beat. His angel was frightened, but in the best of ways, her every sense heightened.
He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Do you like this? Do you like being helpless before me, knowing that at any moment I could do anything to you?”
Her whole body shuddered, trembling with desire and that sharp edge of the unknown. Her head nodded once, firmly.
He turned her back to the lake. “Do you know that sometimes they take boats out in the afternoon? At any moment someone could come rowing past, and think what a view they would get.”
She gasped but still did not seek to move or hide.
He pressed his hips forward, bringing his rampant erection to rest between her buttocks.
She stiffened and then pushed back into him, rubbing against him like a cat.
He pressed tighter, bringing a hand in front to hold her pelvis still. “I could open my trousers right now and have my way with you, and there is nothing you could do.”
Her body grew still. He could feel the full awareness of her situation seep into her.
“And even if you screamed, then what?” he asked quietly. “What would happen if we were discovered like this?”
Still she did not move.
“You seem no more eager for a forced marriage than I, and so you are my prisoner, helpless to my desires.”
He stepped away, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and turning her to face him. It was so easy to become caught up in want, but it did not matter. “I give you one last chance to escape. No? Then step between the columns and let us find the moment again.”
Her head bent slightly, her neck long and delicate, she moved into the sun. It lit her hair like a cloud of fire about her, her pale skin glowing warm and lovely.
He swallowed as he focused on the bonds that held her, on her breasts pushed up and out, begging for his touch, for his glorious punishment.
Control. He needed control.
He took his seat on the cold marble bench again, spreading his thighs wide. Seeing Angela tied in his ropes, her blue eyes dark, her lips parted, a flush rising up her chest and face, had him ready to burst. The strength of his response was far greater than he had ever experienced.
Angela shook slightly as the wind picked up, her nipples bobbing. His mouth went dry. He splayed his thighs further, his feet moving forward to rest on either side of the tarp he had placed o
n the floor.
“Walk toward me slowly,” he commanded, keeping his whole focus on her.
She took one step and then another, her hips swaying. She stumbled slightly and caught herself, not used to having her arms held so tight behind her.
“I do wish you could see yourself. If you looked like an offering before—well, now you truly are.”
Her eyes lifted to him and then dropped again.
The sun was lower in the sky now and even as she moved forward it followed her, caressing her creamy skin.
When her toes touched the edge of the tarp, he held up a hand for her to stop. Her body halted, her shoulders pulling back, her breasts lifting. He had tied the ropes tight, and each breath she took pressed against them, causing them to swell further.
He reached out a finger and touched the tip of one rosy nipple. She started, and he could see the sensation race through her. He drew his nail across the tender tip, and her whole body tensed. He moved to the other breast, repeating the process.
Her eyes widened, and despite their earlier words he could see the moment that she first understood how helpless she was. He could do what he wished to those tempting breasts and there would be no recourse.
He plucked at her nipple, pulling hard and then releasing.
Her breath sucked in and then out.
He let his other hand trail down her belly, stopping to pluck at her nest of curls.
“Have you been touching yourself as I suggested?”
Her eyes jumped up to his and then hurried down again. Embarrassment showed in the nervous uptilt of her lips. A very slight nod.
“Do you know what I dream of when I stroke myself?” He stroked her breasts one more time and then leaned back, bringing one hand to his lap. He pressed down, outlining his length.
Her eyes moved from her feet to his hand.
“I dream of how you look right now. I dream of having you before me, ready and wet. I dream of knowing that I can do what I want. I dream of looking into your eyes and seeing your need. I dream of you begging me, pleading with me to give you your release. And I dream of your lips, your mouth.”
“My mouth?” The words slipped from her lips. Her gaze traveled up to his and then dropped to his sex, which pressed tight against the front of his breeches.
