She’d had neighbors in the rooming house who had become mistresses. She hadn’t kept in touch with any of them, and she wondered now what their lives were like. Had their titles been upgraded to wife? Did they have children? Or did the men they’d given themselves to throw them over for a different mistress, one far younger and more beautiful?
Would that happen if she became Fergus’ mistress? She didn’t have the power of divination, so there was no way of knowing what would happen.
That meant, truthfully, she needed to concentrate on her writing. Fergus’ idea of her writing erotica had merit, if she could find someone to publish it. She crossed to her bed and reached under her pillow. There were three pamphlets there, ones that she’d already read before. They were all written by A. Rob.
She’d found them in a desk at the newspaper, one vacated by a man named Jonathan Fitz who had left after he’d been hired onto the staff at The Times. Everyone had been so jealous, and Phillips had given her the chore of cleaning out his work space.
When she’d found the pamphlets she’d been a little shocked. She’d thrown them in the trash, but had retrieved them later and brought them home to read. That had been two years ago. Since then she’d found a bookseller on Fleet Street who kept the pamphlets behind the counter. He refused to sell them to her because she was a woman.
But she found a street kid who bought them for her, for a fee. Now, she had a rather large stash that she had hidden in her wardrobe. The three she’d pulled out were the ones she’d been reading now.
Most of the stories, what little there was to them, were about women in danger being rescued by a strong, dominant man who claimed her and did naughty things to her body.
The stories were the first time she’d learned that a woman could take a cock in three different places in her body. Something told her Fergus already knew that, and he was willing to experiment with her.
She sat down in a chair and opened one of the pamphlets. She was just at the part where the young lady, Victoria, was pulling her bum cheeks apart so Albert, her lover, could take aim.
Reading it this time was different than before. She saw Fergus’ face in place of the anonymous main character, whom she never really assigned an identity to before. When he spoke, when he ordered the woman to her knees to suck his cock, or flipped her over to fuck her, Gabby heard Fergus’ deep, Scottish brogue.
“I’m going to fuck you, Gabby,” the fictional Fergus said. “You’re going to open all parts of your body to me—first your mouth, then your quim, and finally your bum. You will be mine. All mine.”
Gabby’s nipples hardened as she read the words. She wanted to be under Fergus, wanted to see him, feel him. Her hands gathered the silky material of the blue dress, which she still hadn’t taken off, and inched it up her thighs.
Maybe if she put her hands on herself she would be able to write the story that Fergus wanted. She was breathing heavily, and her fingers had just touched her bare thigh, right above her stockings, when a knock at the door made her gasp and drop the pamphlet she still held in one hand.
“Who is it?” she called out.
“Charlotte.”
That was not a voice Gabby had been expecting to hear. She was so shocked she walked to the door without picking up the reading material, or realizing she was still wearing the dress which was now stained with tea.
Charlotte smiled at her, and then her mouth opened as if in shock.
“I’m so sorry,” Gabby said. She tried to fold the skirt to hide the stain, but she knew Charlotte had already seen it.
“It’s just a dress,” Charlotte said. “But your face is so flushed. Is something wrong?”
It took her just a moment to make a decision. “I was thinking about Fergus.” She wouldn’t mention the pamphlet; and then she remembered that it was on the floor next to her chair. She turned and crossed the room quickly.
“Come in,” Gabby said as she swooped the papers up and stuffed them under the chair’s cushion. “I’m surprised to see you here. Truthfully, I wouldn’t want you to come here. This place is not exactly a palace.”
“I don’t live in a palace, either,” Charlotte said as she closed the door. “I was out, and I went by Fergus’ house to talk with the two of you about the party next week. He said you had come home. I have to admit I am disappointed to find you here. I had hoped the two of you would be getting along together so well that you would have already taken up residence and given up your rooms.”
“Charlotte, you’re living in a fantasy world.” Gabby sat down in her chair. She was painfully aware of the papers upon which she sat. “Sit down.” She indicated the only other chair in the room.
“I hate that you have to see this place,” Gabby said. “You and your lord live in Mayfair, and I live, well, here.”
“You know what I hate?” Charlotte put her hand on Gabby’s knee. “I hate that we lost track of each other. I remember laughing with you and being friends. I hope we can do that again.”
“I quit my job,” Gabby said. She felt as if she couldn’t leave words in her mouth. “Fergus has proposed an idea, one that really fits with me, and my past. He thinks I should write erotica pamphlets.”
Charlotte laughed so hard Gabby thought she would faint.
“Do you not agree?” Gabby finally said.
“On the contrary, I think it’s perfect,” Charlotte said. “Fergus is a very sexual man. All the men I know are.”
A cold chill swept up Gabby’s spine. “I’m afraid to ask what that means.”
“Not what you think, Gabby, but it’s proof that your imagination is so vivid that it would go there. The answer to your unasked question is no, I have not slept with him. The only man I’ve ever slept with is Dalton.”
“Then how do you know Fergus is a sexual man?” Gabby snapped her fingers and held up her hand. “Don’t answer that. All men are whores, are they not?”
“I didn’t say he was a whore,” Charlotte said. “I spoke out of turn. You should ask him what I mean. I’m sure he’ll tell you. But I do want to talk about the party.”
“Charlotte…” Gabby tried to hold back the words that formed in her mouth. She didn’t want to use words that might cause hard feelings. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think there needs to be a party.”
“Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s throwing a party. However, I was being a bit, well… I don’t think I can do it as fast as I wanted. Dalton said I should give it two weeks. How do you feel about that?”
Gabby didn’t want to tell her friend that there was every possibility that in two weeks she would no longer be in Fergus’ life. By then they might have solved either the pickpocket ring, or the case of the fake Egyptian artifacts they’d found in the house. Which reminded her that they were due to go back to the house this evening. She hadn’t thought about that when she and Fergus had talked earlier.
All they’d talked about was the story he’d wanted her to write, the one that left her so excited when Charlotte had shown up on her doorstep.
“I wanted you and Fergus to come over for an after dinner drink tonight, but he tells me you already have plans.” Charlotte leaned toward her. “Does it have anything to do with his idea that you should write a naughty story?”
“Yes,” Gabby said. She didn’t want to tell her friend about the nocturnal activities she and Fergus had planned.
As if he knew she was thinking about him, at that very moment he knocked on the door and called out her name.
“Looks like I might be in the way,” Charlotte said. “We’ll discuss the party at another time. I hope the two of you enjoy your time together.”
Gabby opened the door and Fergus stepped inside. He kissed Gabby’s cheek and took hold of Charlotte’s hand. “I hope I haven’t cut your visit short.”
“Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “Gabby, don’t worry about that dress. My housekeeper is skilled at getting stains out of my clothing. Just drop it b
y the house tomorrow and by this weekend it will be good as new.”
“I’ll walk you down, Charlotte,” Fergus said. “Gabby, I’ll return momentarily.”
While he was gone, Gabby hid the pamphlets under her pillow one more time. She left the door open, and when he returned she told him to do the same.
“I haven’t had time to, um, do my assignment,” she said.
“Yes, Charlotte was rather a surprise, I’m sure.” He shut the door despite the fact she’d told him not to. Then he stood in the center of the room and glanced around.
“What are you doing?” she asked
“Looking for your naughty books,” he said. “You wouldn’t leave them out for anyone to see, which means they would have to be hidden. Perhaps in your wardrobe?”
For a moment she thought he was going to go in that direction. But he didn’t.
“Are you going to search for them?” she asked.
“I don’t have to,” he said. “You would want to keep them close, or at least I think you would. Which means they are either hidden between your mattresses, or under your pillow. Am I right?”
“You should take your show on the road,” she said. “Perhaps you could put on a costume and guess people’s weight, or tell their future, in front of the theaters.”
“I’d rather read what you’ve been reading,” he said. He crossed to the bed and reached under the pillows. Gabby watched as he pulled out the pamphlets.
He sat down on the bed and started to read.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” she asked.
“He ordered her onto her knees, and told her to clasp her hands behind her back.” He flipped the page. “You’re going to wet my cock so I can shove it up your bum. You’ll moan and groan under me as I saw in and out, my hard cock claiming your sweet, tight arse.”
He waved the papers at her. “This page is rather worn. You’ve read this part quite a bit. Tell me, Gabby, have you had a cock up your bum before?”
“No,” she whispered.
“But you’d like to,” he said. “I can see your hard nipples, and I can tell by the way you’re clenching your hands into fists that you’re fighting the urge to put your fingers between your legs.”
“Stop.” She rubbed her hands against her skirt.
“When we get to my house I’m going to order you onto your knees so you can wet my cock,” he said. “I’m not going to take your bum tonight. That will come later. But I will take your quim, which I’m sure is quite wet.”
Gabby swallowed hard. “It’s been a long time for me.”
“I’ll be gentle,” he said. And then he grinned. “Maybe.”
“We… we…”
“We need to go,” he said. “My carriage is waiting outside. “We’ll take care of our business and then do our illegal activities afterward.”
She couldn’t find the words to tell him that was satisfactory to her. Instead she just nodded.
“I need to change,” she managed to say.
“Nonsense,” he responded. “There are other dresses at the house, and you’ll wear your other costume for the break-in. But I can tell you if we wait much longer I will bend you over the bed and take you right here.”
Gabby nodded. She watched as he stuffed the papers into his pocket and then he took her hand.
She almost came from the contact, and she prayed they would make it to his house before she went down on her knees, and swallowed as much of his dick as she possibly could.
Chapter 6
His carriage sat near the door to her building, and he bustled her inside, more pushing then helping. He instructed the driver to travel with all haste, and before the carriage took off he was on top of her, pushing her down into the seat.
He showered her with kisses, his touch demanding as he stroked her breasts and caressed her thighs, the material from her dress rustling under his hands.
After a few moments she pushed him back. “I need to…”
“You need to what?” he asked.
“Catch my breath,” she said with a laugh. “You’re taking me to places I’ve never been before.” The shocked look on his face made her giggle.
“I understood you’d been with a man before,” he said.
“Yes, but there is a difference between men.” She didn’t want to go into details. He didn’t need to know that her first experience had been lacking, that she hadn’t felt near the excitement that was coursing through her body right now.
He kissed her again, his lips gentle yet probing. “Tell me, Gabriella, how would you write this scene for your book?”
“My book?” She gasped out the words and then she said, “Oh, my book. The erotic one.”
“Yes, that one.” He kissed her neck. “Describe it for me.”
“He… he… kissed her neck and his hands, they felt her breasts and… and…”
“Oh good heavens,” he said as moved away from her. “That would bore a nun.”
She balled her hand into a fist and punched his arm. “I suppose you could do better?”
“I know I can,” he said.
“Sorry, the mood is gone.” She held up her hand. “You’ve ruined it.”
“Forgive me,” Fergus said. “Let me make amends.”
“I want to go into the house tonight,” she said, ignoring his words. “We should get there early enough to watch the woman leave, and then give it twenty minutes or so to make sure she’s not coming back.”
“She was soft under his touch, like feathers from a bed.” His voice was also soft, and it made her shiver, almost as if he were using a feather on her right now. “Her nipples hardened, as did his prick.”
“It is hard for me to make a decision on what to do first,” he said.
“Stop it,” Gabby said.
“No, I won’t stop,” he replied. Fergus palmed her breast and gently squeezed. “I’m going to make you mine. I’m going to bury myself so deeply inside you that you feel every pulse, every throb. I’ll fuck you until you realize we’re one, and that will never change.”
Gabby’s chest moved so rapidly she felt as if she might pop a button or two. It wasn’t just the words, it was the tone of his voice, the feel of his breath against her neck.
“We should… we should...” His lips were on her neck again and she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“Once again you’re boring the nun,” he said.
She couldn’t help but giggle. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
The carriage came to a stop and he kissed her gently. “Inside, wench,” he said. “It’s time for me to make you mine.”
They exited the carriage as quickly as they’d gotten in. The door opened as they neared. The butler, whom Fergus had told her was called Timmons, greeted them.
“Sir, there was a Mr. Phillips here for Miss Saunders.”
“If he returns tell him to go to the devil,” Fergus said. “And make sure we’re not disturbed for the rest of the evening.”
Fergus grabbed Gabby’s hand and pulled her up the stairs. Once they were in his room Fergus pulled her in for a hungry kiss, pressing his hardness against her stomach. Once again, her body felt as if it were on fire, as if she would burst into flames.
“I need a maid to help me with my stays.”
Fergus put her at arm’s length and looked her up and down. Before she knew what was happening he grasped the top of the dress and pulled. Buttons flew as the sound of ripping material filled the room.
“Fergus! This is Charlotte’s dress!”
“I’ll replace it. I’ll replace her whole wardrobe. I cannot wait much longer for you to be naked.”
“You’re going to make me yours, just like the man in your lurid tale.”
“I’m going to do much better than him,” Fergus said. “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 s
aid. 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.
His Curious Imp: The Rakes of Mayfair Book 4 Page 7
