by Webster, K
What have I done?
I’m too confounded to open my eyes. What he just did to me feels so dirty yet so right. I hate that I feel so relaxed and content now. My thoughts begin to clear when I feel his warm hand slip under my dress, I pop my eyes open.
He watches me fiercely as his fingers skim up my bare thigh.
“What are you doing?” I demand angrily. And even though I loathe the fact that his hand is under my dress, I can’t help but want him to touch me more—to give me another gift like the one he just gave me.
“Was I right? I think I was,” he tells me smoothly when his index finger slides over my knickers. “You have drenched your poor undergarments.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his words. This man just says whatever is on his mind. He’s horrible. When he pushes my knickers aside, I gape at him, my mouth wide open.
One finger.
He owns me again with one finger as he breaches my wet opening. The way he enters is slow but demanding. His finger stretches and fills me more so than my own ever did.
“Goddammit, Elisabeth. You’re absolutely dripping with want for me.”
I wait eagerly for him to work more of his magic, but he slips it out of me before I can protest. Then he raises the offending hand in front of me and I see that his finger glistens. When he opens his mouth, I watch in fascination as he darts his tongue out and tastes my essence. I want to be shocked, but I’m quickly learning that this man is bold and daring. He doesn’t have the boundaries normal people have.
“You taste like a honeysuckle,” he reveals. “Such a sweet flower with a delicious center. My tongue is jealous of my finger.”
I’m powerless against his unusual words as I stare hopelessly at him.
“Fifteen minutes. That’s all you need to gather your personal things. We’re leaving. I cannot wait another second to claim you as mine.”
As he stands abruptly, the haze he brought upon me lifts along with him.
“Wait!” I call out, “You can’t do this. You cannot just claim me. I’m not yours to claim!”
His tall frame stiffens as he hears my words. Because of the way his suit fits so perfectly, my mind wonders what he looks like underneath. But I don’t have any time to examine the thought further because he stalks over to me and places a palm on either side of my head on the bed. Once again, I freeze up and all thoughts turn into unimportant bubbles that float away.
I try not to inhale his masculine scent that is now mixed with what must be mine. Together, it smells too good. Sinful. His lips press against mine again, and this time, I don’t hesitate to let him kiss me. I get a taste of something different, which I realize must be me.
I taste good. Just like he said.
SHE’S PERFECTION, JUST LIKE I knew she would be. The moment I laid eyes on her much older flesh than that of the portrait, I was bewitched. Her poor attempt at making herself appear to be demure and unappealing was futile and ridiculous. Instead, she only made me want her more. The older sister reminded me of one of the whores I’ve taken to bed on many occasions, while the younger one was just a child.
It was the middle one I wanted.
Needed.
The middle one, named Elisabeth, was the one who would be mine.
When she touched me before she nearly fainted, I knew I would never be able to resist her. It was in that moment, the moment I watched her pale features grow even whiter, that I knew she would always belong to me.
My thoughts were further justified when she allowed me to kiss her and, furthermore, pleasure her body. Everything else faded into the background while I drove her to new heights of ecstasy. The woman has no idea what I can do to her.
As she squirmed with her orgasm, my cock ached to be inside her. I was so sure it was going to tear through the fabric of my trousers in an effort to get to her. Thankfully, I was able to tame the beast and somehow managed to leave her on her bed.
Now, I must inform Mr. Merriweather of my selection. But I’ve barely made it down the hallway when the older sister steps into the hallway in front of me, her lust-laden eyes drinking up my appearance.
“There you are, Lord Thomas. I thought I could speak to you for a moment,” she purrs. “Privately.”
I know of her kind. She’s not an innocent like her two younger sisters. By the way she speaks to me, I know that this woman spreads her legs for anyone who’ll show her the slightest of affections. Again, she reminds me of my past whores.
“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to, dear. I shall be leaving for my estate shortly,” I tell her firmly.
Her eyes widen in shock at my blatant dismissal. “Wait!” she tries in desperation as she saunters over to me.
Then she grabs my cock through my trousers and I raise a questioning eyebrow at her.
“I can see that you’re hard. You like what you see. I could make you so happy,” she promises.
Any other man would slide an arm around her waist and let her make good on that promise. I’m not any other man.
“Miss, I’m turned on because of the exquisite thing in the other room that is now packing her things. She’ll become my wife, which means you’ll soon be my sister. Now, please remove your hand before I forcefully remove it for you.”
Tears well in her eyes, and for a moment, I wonder if she’ll slap me. Instead, she lets go and rushes into the room with Elisabeth. Shaking my head, I start toward the parlor, where Mr. Merriweather is waiting, but then I hear shouts coming from the bedroom. Something crashes, which sets my desire to protect what’s mine on fire. So I bolt toward the door and fling it open.
Edith has her hand raised as if to slap Elisabeth again. I say again because my honeysuckle is cowering in the corner of the room, a red handprint adorning her cheek. The sight of her smacked flesh causes me to explode.
Storming toward Edith, I snatch her raised palm and twist it painfully behind her back. She cries out because I’m seconds away from snapping her wrist into two. When Elisabeth’s gaze meets my murderous one, she shrinks back even farther into the corner as if she’s afraid I’ll hurt her too.
I’m only protecting her.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Merriweather roars from the doorway.
I release Edith and turn toward the older man, ready to clobber him if blows come to blows. “This woman believes she can take out her jealousy and wrath on my fiancée. If she has any sense about her, she’ll leave my sight before I slap her as she’s slapped Elisabeth,” I growl, my chest heaving.
Mr. Merriweather shoots Edith a disapproving glare. She’s had enough sense to cry in remorse at her actions.
“Come, Elisabeth. We’re leaving now,” I bark out and hold my palm out to her.
She startles at my tone but tentatively reaches for my hand. Once I’ve secured it inside mine, I tug her to me. With my free hand, I gently stroke the swollen flesh of her cheek.
“Are you all right?” I question, my gaze never leaving hers.
Her eyes search mine for some answer I don’t have. Finally, she nods.
“Father,” the youngest girl says in an urgent tone, “William is here. He’s not pleased.”
William.
The bastard who wants what’s mine.
“William?” Elisabeth questions with a wobbly voice.
“We’re leaving now,” I snarl and drag her along with me.
I’ve barely made it out of the room when I nearly slam into the brick wall that must be the infamous William. His eyes drop to our joined hands before he pins me with a mutinous glare.
“Let her go, goddammit! You’re not taking her anywhere!”
I feel Elisabeth start to tug away from me, but I squeeze her hand tighter. “She’s mine now, so you’ll be best to run along. This is none of your business.”
His nostrils flare angrily, and I sense his upcoming move perhaps before he even realizes what he’s going to do next. Not giving him any leeway, I release her hand and swing my fist upwards until it co
nnects with his jaw.
The crunch is sickening to most, but not to me. I find satisfaction in the way my hand screams in pain while knowing that the pain I inflicted is much worse. Once I set my mind on something, nothing will deter me from my path. And at this moment, this fucking Neanderthal is in my way.
He crumples to the floor, groaning in pain. Elisabeth falls to her knees and sobs.
“Elisabeth. We’re leaving. Now,” I bark at her.
She flinches but ignores my orders as she attempts to comfort the man on the floor.
“Have you lost your mind?” Mr. Merriweather gasps behind me.
Whipping toward him, I clench my teeth together. “No, I’m just a very serious businessman. But you, sir, have lost your daughter.”
Without another word to any of them, I slip an arm around Elisabeth’s waist and scoop her from the floor. She struggles and screams, but I’m much stronger than she is. It isn’t until I’ve made it outside with her and shoved her into the coach that I speak again.
“Your life here is finished. Your home is in London now,” I tell her as I climb in after her.
Her eyes are puffy and red from crying, but she doesn’t attempt to escape. I can see the resignation in her eyes.
“Pritchard, home!” I order my driver.
With a jolt, the horses rapidly pull the coach away from the old farmhouse. I expect her to wave to them or at least look out the small window. But she does nothing of the sort.
Instead, she clasps her hands in front of her and stares absently at them. Because of our struggle, a section of her hair has come loose and is now dangling down the side of her face, partially blocking the sight of her.
The ride back will take several hours, so I unbutton my top coat and shrug out of it. Once I’ve tossed it on the bench in front of us, I set to rolling my sleeves up. The coach is as hot as the flames of hell and I’m tempted to strip down to nothing. I opt, rather, to just remove my bow tie and stopping there.
“You’ll grow used to me, dear Elisabeth,” I tell her as I swipe the strand of hair behind her ear.
Without looking over at me, she finally speaks. “Lissa.”
Lissa?
Hell no.
“I like Elisabeth more,” I murmur. “Or, better yet, maybe I should call you honeysuckle.”
When her breath hitches, I smirk. The woman is so damn easy to rile. She wears every emotion on that pale skin of hers. If she’s angry or embarrassed or turned on, the flesh turns pink. It’s her tell, and I’m very perceptive.
“In fact,” I growl as I squeeze her thigh through her frock, “I’d love to have another taste.”
She grabs my hand and pushes it back into my lap. “You’ll not be having another taste. What we did—what I did—was deplorable. I don’t even know the first thing about you, yet here I am, letting you steal me away to do God only knows what with me.”
I chuckle at her words. “You put up a fight, if it’s any contest.”
Her head snaps to face me and her green eyes blaze with fury. “Clearly, not much of one. I let you kiss me. Touch me. Take me from my family and my love.”
The way her lips pout again has my cock roaring back to life. With a flash, I grasp her chin and pull her to me. A terrified mewl falls from her perfect lips, which only further punishes my cock.
“Let’s get something straight, Elisabeth,” I mutter close to her mouth, the heat of her quick breaths spurring me on, “You didn’t let me do anything. I took what I wanted. Just like always. One doesn’t become as wealthy and powerful as I am without seizing life and taking ownership over what he wants. Now, I want you more than anything. So when I want something, I will take it. Every goddamned time. Got it, honeysuckle?”
A tear rolls down her cheek, but she nods. Leaning forward, I press a chaste kiss to her lips.
“See? Just then, I wanted to kiss you, so I stole a kiss. It will always be like that with us because that’s the kind of man I am. I see. I want. I take,” I tell her simply.
Another tear. “So, you’re going to take my virginity against my will?” she questions with a quiver in her voice.
Slamming my eyes shut, I briefly imagine how fucking amazing it will be when I do push myself into her hot body. The growl that rips from me is purely animalistic in nature.
“If I so please. However, I have a feeling you’ll give it to me very, very willingly,” I grumble.
She shakes her head in protest.
I smirk at her. “Want to place a wager?”
Her eyes widen when I pull away from her to regard her playfully. “A wager? What do I get if I win?”
“You really think you won’t beg me to fuck your tight, virgin cunt by the end of a fortnight?” I ask in astonishment. This woman has no idea of my abilities.
“Actually, I believe the only way you’ll get in there is if you force me into it. I’ll always love William. You won’t ever take that away from me.”
Her words set my soul on fire. If I hadn’t been so hell-bent on getting her out of there, I’d have stayed to kill the oaf to keep him from meddling in my life.
“Are we betting on this?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
She bites her lip and nods. “Yes, but I’ll set the terms.”
“We’ll compromise on the terms,” I tell her.
Her shoulders hunch in dejection, but she nods once more. “Fine. If you take me against my will, you must extinguish the debt from my father and send me home. And after a fortnight, if my virginity is still intact, you’ll let me leave. There will be no strings attached.”
I smile. “And when I win this wager?”
She scoffs. “You’re not going to win. But, if under some circumstance I lose my mind and you do win, I’ll drop it forever. You can make me your wife and I’ll never speak of William or my past again.”
I’m not sure why I’m considering her bet. I don’t have to participate. The deal with her father is as binding as any contract. But she’s so cute with her defiant flare that I have the need to amuse her with my agreement.
“It’s a deal. Now, let’s seal our deal,” I say before I kiss her hard enough that she will soon forget her name.
HIS LIPS ARE ON MINE in an instant, before I can stop them. For a brief moment, I felt confident in my abilities to stand strong and oppose his advances. Yet now, while he seals our deal with a heated kiss, all confidence takes a flying leap out the window. He manages every time to intoxicate me with his presence. The air inside the coach was already stifling, and as we share this kiss, the temperature seems to rise many more degrees.
His hands find my hips, and I gasp in surprise when he hauls me over into his lap, dragging one knee across him so that I’m straddling him. He’s merely kissing me and I’m already getting lost in the confusion that is him. Why is it that my body rejects what my mind demands when in his presence?
Sweat trickles between my breasts, and I almost wish he’d rip the dress from my body just to cool me off. He doesn’t go to that extreme, but he does push it up my thighs. He hardens between my legs, and I pant as it rubs me through my wet knickers. I’m already fast losing this bet.
“Mmm,” I moan against my will.
His mouth owns mine and shows no signs of stopping. When he grabs my hips and pushes me harder against him, I cry out. I’m not sure what to even call him, and this sobers me instantly. I tear away from him and swallow gulps of air.
“What do I call you?”
A name falls from his lips before he roughly takes my mouth with his.
Jasper.
The way his length rubs the place he drew out so much pleasure from earlier has me rocking against him. I want to feel it again—the sensation from before that was so foreign yet so delicious. While in his arms, it’s now all I can think about.
“I want to be inside you, darling, more than I have ever desired anything in my entire life,” he murmurs as he kisses me.
Traitorous thoughts of him pushing his thickness into me flood my mi
nd, and surprisingly, that turns me on even more. I want to be embarrassed at the way I’m writhing in his arms, but the desire to find that pleasure again wins out.
“Make me see stars again,” I whisper against his lips.
A groan of satisfaction comes from him, and his hand slides under my dress. I yelp when he pushes a finger deep inside me. Then his palm massages me in the spot from before as he probes from within me. It’s dizzying. Exotic. Addicting.
Shamelessly, I ride his finger. I urge him with my body to touch me exactly where I need to be touched. It doesn’t take long, for my body to deliciously tighten as my release nears. I’m caught in the web that is him.
“Jasper,” I moan, the name unfamiliar to my lips, as the stars blind me.
All sensations are lost aside from the gratifying one that seizes my very being. When the contractions of my inner womb subside, I pull away to look at him. His finger is still inside me, and he smiles crookedly at me in smug satisfaction.
“It would seem I’ll be taking this”—he wiggles his finger—“before nightfall tomorrow. When shall I begin calling you Lady Thomas?”
The moment he slips his finger out, I slap him hard across his scruffy cheek. A sting instantly burns my palm, but I glower at him through it.
“Never. I may let you pleasure me, but you’ll never own me. I’m afraid I just used you for my own personal gain. I intend on winning this bet and driving you mad in the process.”
This statement wipes the idiotic grin right from his face.
It’s been several hours since we arrived at his manor in London. I managed to keep my features cool and unimpressed as he guided me into the enormous estate. Everything about it spoke of luxury and old money. Each person I was introduced to was friendly and polite. But I refuse to allow myself to grow comfortable.
“We’ve prepared a meal for you and Lord Thomas,” Gerald speaks through the door of my new prison.
