Mistress in the Making Page 7

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  Lucas pressed the bedroom door shut with a near-silent click. The sole candle he held illuminated a circle around him with just enough glow to see Charlotte asleep in his bed. Something warm tightened around his heart and for a moment he had to remember to breathe. His woman was there. In his bed. This was the first night she hadn’t waited up, but something about her sleeping form enticed him. It was more a scene from marriage than between man and mistress.

  He tried and failed to suppress his wish that Charlotte would be waiting for him in his bed every night for the rest of his life. They’d known each other less than a fortnight and yet it seemed forever. If he were a decent man, an honorable man, he’d set her up as a widow in some country cottage far away from him and pay for her damn sisters to come to London for a Season. But he wasn’t. Not when it came to her. For Charlotte he was a selfish brute and demanded her frequent sexual attentions.

  He lowered the candle onto the small table next to his side of the bed and undressed, not intending to wake her, but sleep holding her instead. When he slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around her, he saw one of her arms in an awkward position anchored to the bed post. Investigating the matter, he pulled back the blanket and saw her wrist shackled. She was naked other than a tight silk ribbon around her neck.

  His cock hardened with an urgency that shocked him. She was his. His with whom to do what he pleased. He could plunge into her and rut like a stallion or tie her other hand and lick her from head to toe. He could make her come relentlessly, not stopping even if she begged. Or…

  He smiled with a plan in mind. He crept out of bed to grab his discarded cravat from the floor. Gently he tied her other wrist. Though she stirred, she did not wake fully. He glanced down at her delicate ankles, debating whether to totally immobilize her and decided against it. If she were naughty, he’d do it. He rather hoped she’d be naughty.

  Patience, he told himself. He’d find his pleasure, but later. Much later. First to find out how much pleasure a woman could take without coming. He scooted down the bed to Charlotte’s ankles and slid a palm up the insides of her calves and up her thighs. An incoherent sound escaped her, but she didn’t fully waken. Spreading her thighs, he buried his face in her curls and let his tongue do a little exploring. Lord, she was sweet. Like that sweet rice he’d had in India mixed with something distinctly earthy. Her taste described his mistress. Sweet, innocent and fresh from the country combined with a large dose of sensual appeal.

  For long minutes he licked and teased and when her hips began to shift under his mouth, he thrust his tongue inside her.

  ”Lucas?” came her quiet question.

  “Keep sleeping, darling. You’re dreaming.”

  She laughed. “Come up here and give me a goodnight kiss.”

  He complied, though he vowed it would be the last time that evening he’d accede to her wishes.

  ”Mmmm,” she moaned into his mouth as their tongues rubbed sinuously together.

  He pulled away to lean over her, perched on his forearms. ”That taste you’re exclaiming over is you. Your juices. You’re dripping for me, darling. Do you like it? No, I don’t need to ask. Your body told me the answer. You love my tongue inside your tight, wet—”

  “Lucas.” Even in the near dark, her blush shined through. She attempted to bat him away only to discover that she’d been tied up while dozing. “Lucas, I can barely move.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. That’ll teach you to fall asleep without staying up for me.” Without waiting for her response, he leaned his head in and nipped her right nipple, then her left. Her breathy cry told him he’d caused pleasure, not pain. Good. And bad. Tonight he wanted to explore her boundaries between pleasure and pain, or rather, how much pleasure she could take before it became too much.

  Her nipples pearled into hard little treats for him to lick…to bite. “You like that.” A statement, not a question.

  She nodded and thrust her chest up from the bed as much as possible with her bound arms. Instead of acknowledging her very obvious cues, he moved his mouth away from her nipples lower to her flat belly. He was pleased to note it was now softly curving. Their first days together, he’d been unhappy to note every bump of her ribs. She’d hinted that money had been tight at home. It must have been a hell of a lot more than tight if she was still slightly emaciated after a few months of eating at Madame Bella’s table. He hoped the Madame didn’t starve her girls. Fully breasted, luscious women would sell better than scrawny chickens.

  Still, Charlotte looked a hell of a lot better now than ten days ago. Overcome with a sudden need to share his feelings, he looked up from his love bites around her navel. “You’re beautiful.”

  She didn’t respond.

  He repeated his sentiment.

  She smiled but tried to shrug him away. “No, my sister’s the beautiful one.”

  He frowned, hating anyone denigrating his mistress, including his mistress. “Stop insulting yourself. You’re beautiful.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he clamped a hand over her lips. ”Don’t argue with your protector or I may feel it necessary to tie more than just your hands.”

  She clamped her lips closed, though he caught the flitter of desire that washed through her at his threat of binding her mouth. “You dirty girl,” he murmured with delight that quickly turned into focused intention. He lowered back from her navel to the juncture of her thighs and resumed pleasuring her with his tongue. Slowly, then faster he lapped up her creamy wetness, paying close attention to the flutters rippling through her.

  When she seemed on the precipice he backed off his quickened pace and relaxed into a slow, arrhythmic savoring of her body.

  “Lucas?”

  He heard the wonder in her voice, but he wasn’t going for wonder. He wanted frustration.

  “Lucas, I was close. Come inside me now.”

  He pulled his mouth away to answer, but kept a steady finger circling but never touching her clitoris.

  “Lucas?”

  “Not yet.” He was only getting started. He planned on bringing her to the brink several times before allowing her to find her release. It wasn’t going to be easy. His hard cock was a screaming despot demanding he move up Charlotte’s body and pound into her until he came.

  Charlotte struggled to lift her head, which was difficult considering the state of her bound arms combined with the boneless weight of her body brought on by Lucas’ sinful mouth. What was her lover doing? Normally he was all generosity, making her gasp with pleasure again and again. He never denied her or himself. She could feel his need from the tautness of his muscles against her body, but he wasn’t giving in to his need now.

  Instead, he was, oh god… Her head fell back as his tongue resumed its slow and steady path along her inner thighs to deep inside her. He came close to the spot where she needed him most, but he only teased with a quick lick or nibble, never giving her the pressure she craved. “Lucas, please.”

  “Please what?” He stopped all body contact to kneel between her thighs and grin evilly at her.

  “Please…” Though she’d learned to do everything her body craved, she had yet to gain comfort with giving voice to her needs and desires. Instead she showed Lucas at every opportunity how much she enjoyed his attentions and his body.

  “Uh-uh. If you can’t say it, you don’t get what you want.” His voice was a low torturous rumble, but he didn’t give her time to respond. He pushed her thighs farther apart and up until her knees were at her chest. “Hold your legs like this.”

  She tried to hold the position, she truly did, but when he nudged his penis into her, one leg slid down helplessly. He pulled out immediately and left the bed. He returned a moment later with two strips of fabric. Her legs, which had flopped to one side while he was absent, were pushed back into position. Deftly he wrapped one strip around her right thigh and shin, anchoring them so her calf pressed against the back of
her thigh, then did the same for her left.

  She didn’t want to complain since it wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, but she felt vulnerable opened up like this. She couldn’t meet Lucas’ gaze when he stepped back to survey his work with a satisfied smile.

  “Charlotte.”

  She turned her head to find his concerned face close to hers.

  He brushed a kiss on her forehead and whispered to her. “This is a game, Charlotte. Simply a game. If at any point it makes you uncomfortable, say something and we’ll stop and I’ll untie you immediately. Understood?”

  She nodded and warmth spread back into her body. She trusted him implicitly with her body and her heart. She froze at that thought. She didn’t dare trust him with her heart. Madame Bella had warned repeatedly that the worst mistake a mistress could make was to fall in love with her protector. So she suppressed her burgeoning tender feelings for Lucas and concentrated instead on what he was doing to her body. He kneeled at her bottom and massaged her buttocks while nudging at her entrance with his shaft. He never entered fully. Instead he rubbed his dripping cock up and down her slit. She could do nothing but revel in every sensation that began and ended at her core.

  Lucas built a rhythm, creating a pattern of thrusting, pulling out and rubbing against her. Over and over he repeated it until she was strung tight with her need to find release. And then he stopped.

  Leaving the bottom half of her body completely without touch, he scooted up to kiss her lips then trail a line onto her chin, her neck and her breasts. Her nipples, already hard, swelled and tightened to near pain from his ministrations. “Lucas, please.”

  He looked up from her breasts. “Please, what?” he asked. “Are you ready to beg?”

  Yes! Couldn’t he see how desperate she was? Her skin was scorching with need. “Please, Lucas.”

  He shook his head. “You’re asking politely. I want you to beg.”

  Her fingers gripped the bars of the headboard with a shocking strength and she used the leverage to roll her bottom toward Lucas’ body as a screaming hint. He didn’t take it. Instead he untied the silk ribbon around her neck and teased her with it. First a tickle of her lips, then her belly, her breasts. Her eyes closed as part of the game, trying to guess where the ribbon would go next.

  When it landed between her legs, her eyelids flew open then closed again. The sensation was…different, unexpected and decadent. The cool slickness of the ribbon glided through her wetness, sending sparks of sensation along every inch. Faster and faster Lucas moved the ribbon until she tasted the beginning of her climax. So close. And yet so far.

  “Uh-uh, my darling mistress. I haven’t heard you beg.”

  She cracked open an eye with effort to see how Lucas was handling the torture. It was inhuman that he could bring her to the brink so often without letting her find fulfillment. Wasn’t he in a similar amount of need? His body seemed to be in a similar state as hers. Sweat gleamed on his skin, glowing golden in the candlelight. Veins stood out in stark relief on his forearms, and his penis was as hard as the wooden post she was tied to and dripping with liquid silver.

  “I’m begging, Lucas. Please.”

  “Better.” He nodded approvingly. “But not quite enough.”

  A tear slipped out of one eye. “Lucas!” She was going to crack. Cry, scream, or possibly yank the headboard apart in frustration.

  Lucas stopped his finger making lazy circles around her swollen clitoris. He’d heard her desperation. He was looking for something from her, but she wasn’t sure what. If she knew, she’d give it. Anything to get him inside her, bringing them both to completion.

  “You want me to beg? I’m begging. Finish it. Finish me. Please. I’m empty without you. I need you.”

  “You need me to what?” The stark angles of his face were distorted in the flickering candlelight. He was a god, or a demon holding the keys to everything she wanted and needed.

  He was going to make her say it. Digging into her reserves, she pulled all the vocabulary Madame Bella taught her onto her tongue. “Finish me. Put your cock inside me. Fuck me.” She’d expected embarrassment at her coarse language, but instead was free as a bird and found herself experimenting with other phrases, shocking desires rolling off her tongue and into Lucas’ ear.

  He took her at her word and positioned his hips between her thighs. She was so damp he slipped in with ease and she squeezed around him to keep his cock in place. But he didn’t stay still long. His hands found hers and wrapped around her wrists over the tied cravats.

  “You’re mine?”

  “Yours,” she confirmed.

  She met his gaze for a brief second, but it was too much. They both closed their eyes and concentrated on the slick thrust of his body into hers.

  “You needed me.” His smugness made it a statement, not a question, but she answered anyway.

  “I did. I do, so much.”

  She inhaled his tangy sweat, knowing she’d forever remember the smell of Lucas in the throes of passion. He pushed into her with frenzied need and she met every thrust. She needed it, needed him, his warm smiles, his commanding presence, and his body pressed skin-to-skin with hers. They’d been poised on the precipice so long it didn’t take much to send them flying together into bliss.

  Slowly they sailed back to reality. His large body draped on her bound one offered a sense of security. The pounding of his heart was a drumbeat against her breast. When it slowed from a military march to a slow waltz, she murmured to him.

  He pushed off and untied her, starting with her legs. When she was completely free, he rolled her to her belly and rubbed her stiff, sore muscles until she was practically purring. As he rubbed, they spoke quietly—little nothings about his evening and who he’d met at the ball. She shared that she’d be visiting Madame Bella’s tomorrow to see about letters from her sisters.

  “Don’t get too comfortable there,” he said. “I need you back here.”

  “I promise,” she said with a yawn. “I’ll always return to you.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Charlotte!”

  Thin, young arms engulfed her as soon as she stepped three feet into Madame Bella’s front parlor.

  “It’s good to see you,” Emmy said, squeezing even tighter.

  “How is life on the outside?” Lucy asked. She hadn’t hugged Charlotte, but instead stood three feet back with her observer’s eyes as she nearly always did in a crowd.

  Charlotte laughed, thrilled to be back with girls she welcomed into her heart as sisters. “Girls, let me take my coat off first. Then I shall tell you all.” She unbuttoned her wool pelisse and shrugged it off, laying it carefully on the back of a chair.

  “Sit here, Charlotte.” Emmy patted the cushion next to her and grinned.

  She returned the smile and skirted her way around the three other eager girls to join Emmy.

  “Very well, what shall I tell you first?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap.

  “How is Mr. Morgan? Is he as kind as he is handsome?” Emmy asked.

  “Or is he cruel like his brother?” Lucy countered.

  She threw a sharp look at Lucy. “How do you know of Lucas’ brother?”

  “Oh ho, he’s Lucas is he?”

  Her cheeks felt warm at the hint of intimacy. Getting dressed to visit the girls this morning, she’d deluded herself into feeling every inch Lucas’ wife and lady of the manor. However, stepping back into Madame Bella’s domain hammered home the fact that she was nothing more than Lucas’ highly trained mistress and would never amount to anything more. “How do you know of Mr. Morgan’s brother?” she asked.

  “We overheard Madame talking,” Lucy said.

  “A lucky thing he didn’t win the auction,” Emmy said and patted the back of her hand. Though there was a smile on her face, Charlotte could see fear in Emmy’s eyes. Any one of the girls could be sold with little recourse to a monster like Westhunt. “Is it common for a man to beat his mistress?”

  Now it
was Charlotte’s turn to pat her hand. “Of course not. Some men are inclined to evil. Most will treat you as gently as Mr. Morgan treats me.”

  “Does he love you?” one of the other girls asked.

  All five girls leaned in, watching her intently. Charlotte’s gaze circled the inquisitors, and she tried to smile but failed. She might be falling for her master, but he’d said nothing in kind to her. “Don’t be silly. Men don’t fall in love with their mistresses. We serve a different need. Remember Madame’s lessons. Falling in love is a path to heartbreak.”

  All the girls sat back and looked away, except for Lucy who seemed to see right through her. “I think you’ve gone and fallen in love with him though.”

  “Yes, Charlotte. You do sound like a woman in love,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.

  Charlotte looked up and had the shock of her life at the sight of her younger sister in Madame Bella’s foyer. “Elizabeth! What are you doing here?”

  Elizabeth sashayed into the room, clearly aware all eyes were on her beauty. She even put Lucy in the shade, no small feat. Her full breasts overflowed a daring red dress no debutante should wear. Her glossy, golden locks were piled high on her crown with some spilling down to hug the nape of her neck. “What am I doing here? Why, I’m taking my rightful place.”

  Charlotte struggled to swallow over the sudden severe dryness in her throat. “What… What do you mean?”

  Elizabeth scoffed. “Oh come now, Charlotte. Don’t play me for a fool. I discovered Madame Bella’s letter to you. It was me she wanted, not you.”

  Charlotte stood on shaking legs and stepped toward her sister. “I was trying to protect you,” she whispered.

  “How? By stealing my glory and having a London adventure for yourself?” With her hand on a hip and her head cocked at a proud angle, she could’ve taken the London theaters by storm. “How dare you try to steal my place here?”

  At her words, a heated flush rose from Charlotte’s belly up to her cheeks. “You see this as an adventure?” Her palm cracked loudly on the surface of a glossy wood side table. “I’m a whore, Elizabeth.”