Alex's Angel (32 page)

But from this day forward she would fight the temptation. The time had come to leave Alex. No matter if she didn’t want to.

The connection to him was simply too threatening now. He wanted to control her artistic work and shape it into something else. Something that could be used to meet his own ends. And she wasn’t sure what she believed about the national navy issue. She needed time to think things out.

But her own intense responses gave him a power over her that she could allow no one to have.

She jerked away from him.

“Ah, so it’s like that, is it?” His voice was gentle, tender, and her heart threatened to soften. To betray her.

No—she wouldn’t let him do this to her. He was controlling her just as surely as Grandmother had. Controlling her with the silken trap of her affection for him and her own sensuality. Her liking for all the luxury and affection her secret side had hungered for. She tightened her fists and dug her nails into her palms and refused the urge to turn and look at him.

“My book is a work of art from my own heart. The people I interviewed through letters spoke directly to from their hearts to mine and I have faithfully recreated their stories. It is not flawed.”

“I never said it was flawed. I said it was very good but we can work together to make it better.”

His cognac-smooth voice was beguiling. She wanted to believe him, but she knew better. Grandmother was right. Gentlemen were arrogant and they thought they knew everything better than a woman did. Some men were bullies who intimidated with their loud voices and fists, but Alex dominated with his charm. He was by far the more dangerous type of man. And after living with Grandmother, she’d sworn she’d never be manipulated again. What was she doing here with this man?

Suddenly, she needed to be alone. Desperately.

“I think I shall go to bed now,” she said.

“If you must, but we’re not done with this conversation. If you want your work printed, you’ll let me edit it. Do you understand me?”

“Oh, I understand only too well. Because of my social station, my lack of wealth, my gender and my age, I don’t have the power to get my work printed as it was meant to be seen. You hold all the power and you choose to use it. Now I am forced to allow the corruption because it is the only way I may get my work distributed to the people of this nation, now, without further delays. All right, it is an urgent matter and I am powerless, I must allow the corruption.”

His handsome face contorted as if he were pained. More manipulation. She wouldn’t cave in to it. She lifted her chin.

He took her hand. “Emily, that’s not the way it is.”

“Isn’t it?”

He put his other hand over hers as well. “You are tired and I shouldn’t have tried to press matters at this time of night. I am simply busy and it is hard to find other times for us to discuss the matter.”

“No, the time of day is not the issue. I will never be reconciled to the use of my art to further your cause. I will never forgive you for this.”

* * * *

The next day, Emily stared in dismay at the noon meal Sally had brought to her in her small, personal sitting room. She had suffered all morning with her righteous hurt and anger and refused herself all food. But now the aroma of duck served in a honey glaze of tangy orange and cranberries threatened to put an end to her hunger strike.

She held firm against temptation. “Please take this away, Sally.”

Sally eyed her balefully. “When he heard you refused to eat, Mr Dalton ordered Mrs Webbs to make that special for you. If you don’t eat it, you’re going to offend her.”

Left alone, Emily nibbled listlessly at the succulent duck. His concern and attention were just another way to try to control her actions. She let her fork fall, glancing about the luxurious room. All of this luxury was too seductive. It gave him too much power to be able to provide it. She mustn’t get too soft.

Soon you’ll have to return to blood pudding, bitter coffee and cold boarding house rooms.

Very soon after last night’s revelations. Alex had finally shown his true face. He fully intended to change and alter her art to suit his own needs. She was simply a tool.

Twirling a ringlet about her finger several times and tapping her foot in short, rapid jerks, she sipped idly at her claret. The rich wine glided over her tongue, its warmth easing her disquiet. She downed several glasses, then grew sleepy. She stripped off her clothes and dived in sky-clad abandon into the downy warmth of her large bed. Rolling her naked body against the silky, fine linen, she laughed with uncharacteristic cynicism.

Well, while I am here, I may as well enjoy myself.

“Emily.” The voice, masculine and urgent, pulled her rudely from her dreams.

Alex’s face came into focus as she tried to concentrate on his words. She shouldn’t let him, though she couldn’t quite remember why. Thinking would have pulled her from the lingering, fuzzy haze of her dreams.

He continued talking. He wanted her company at some kind of rout.

Pfft! Chance would be a wondrous thing.

Nothing was going to draw her from this bed. Rolling to face down, she fell back to sleep.

“Come along—else I’ll die of the excessive boredom.” The commanding edge of his voice cut into her dreams once more.

“If you’ll be bored, why go?”

“Because I have an obligation. It’s my yearly pilgrimage to see my cousins up in the Northern Liberties. Part of my
noblesse oblige
to my mother’s side.”

“Send James.”

“James has an important prior engagement. He’s busy building his political career; he has such high hopes for himself. No, I am the only one who can go.”

“Surely you’ve someone else to ask to accompany you?” She reached back and pulled the covers over her head.

In one swift move, he flung them off completely. Cold air rushed over her bare skin and gooseflesh arose in its wake.

He gasped, then laughed softly. “You naughty little hussy.”

He ran a slow, caressing hand down her back, his touch deliciously warm. Arching like a docile kitten, she sighed softly.

Images arose. Hot, lazy summer days lying on sun-soaked, fragrant grass watching the clouds passing above. Soft, cotton-like fluffs. She eagerly grasped one as it passed by, hugging it to herself. Feeling his hand stroking her long, loose hair, then sweeping it away to her bare neck, she sank more deeply into the soft warmth.

Lazily, he worked his way from her neck, down her spine, massaging her body into boneless jelly. Now she knew how cats felt. No wonder they liked being petted. She could lie here forever and let him fondle her like this. Then he caressed her bottom and honey began to flow from her cunt. Restless desire made her writhe under his touch. He strayed between her legs and feathered over her swollen, wet inner lips.

She ached for something more stimulating than those flirting fingers and moaned, pressing herself up against his touch.

He removed his hand.

“Alex?” The word came out as a hoarse plea.

He stroked her bottom again, moving at a leisurely pace. Then he brought his hand down on her left buttock with a smack. At first she was merely shocked at the sudden change in his motion. Then the stinging sensation hit her. She cried out and swung her head around so fast that the room spun.

“What the devil was that?” She gaped at him. Had he just…spanked her? Indignation burnt through her. But a stronger fire spread through her cunt.

He stared sternly back at her. “Get up, you little brat. I require your presence at my side tonight and you’ll give it.”

“Oh, shall I?”

“Yes, you signed the contract.”

“Like signing a contract with the devil,” she muttered, then buried her face in her pillow.

He caressed her bottom again and she couldn’t help writhing and trying to press her mons against the bed.

“This is fair warning, Emily—if you don’t get up now I am going to warm your bottom like you won’t soon forget.”

Chapter Thirteen

At the image he provoked, heat washed over her. Her cunt clenched and wetness gushed forth.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice was all breathy in her ears.

“You’ve got about thirty seconds to get yourself out of this bed.”

Her mouth went totally dry and her heart pounded against her rib cage, but she couldn’t seem to move.

“It’s your last chance,” he warned.

She trembled all over and let out a hitching breath. His touch between her legs made her jump. He slid his fingers into her drenched folds and laughed softly. Then he resumed caressing her bottom.

“So my naughty girl knows what is best for her?”

Why was she lying here, allowing herself to be so powerless against him? And why did it feel so terrifyingly delicious? Moreover, what was he going to do? Was he really going to strike her again?

She glanced over her shoulder. His expression was stern. She buried her face back in the pillow to stifle a nervous laugh. Apprehension mingled with anticipation and she moaned at the unbearable excitement racing through her blood.

He made contact with her right buttock, not hard, but just enough to sting. He brushed over the burning area. As the pain dissipated, her inner muscles clenched violently and she arched up towards his hand. If only he would touch her there, she would come instantly—she was sure of it.

“Patience, you greedy little puss.” He gave her a light swat. “First I am going to spank you as you so richly deserve, then I am going to fuck you hard and proper.”

His hand struck her buttocks several times. She tried to anticipate when or where he would strike next, but she never managed to.

With his unbandaged hand resting lightly on her pinkened buttock, he put his cock to her entrance. He groaned at the heat and moisture of her. Damn, she was dripping wet. He’d never known a woman who could lose herself in sensuality as quickly, and he’d known she would adore bed play. When he had found her here, slightly foxed and naked, face-down on her bed, he’d been unable to resist the temptation. Now she had his balls aching with the need to possess her. He thrust into her and her walls instantly contracted around him as if wanting to capture him and keep him from withdrawing.

He wanted all of her, yet for all her sensuality, she held a part of herself always in reserve. Her refusal to trust him to edit her work had hurt him in some way he didn’t even understand. But he recognised it as just another way she was withholding herself from him. Another way she rebelled against him. He wanted to push her and push her until she gave everything over to him—until she was his completely.

He swatted her buttock and withdrew all the way. She cried out, a pained protest. He laughed softly, then pushed back in on one swift motion until he was touching the mouth of her womb. She moaned soft and low and arched her backside up to press against him, as if seeking even greater pressure in her depths. His balls slapped her soft mons as she rocked against him. And her walls were like silk and fire on his cock. He reached under her and found her swollen, firm little nub and rubbed it lightly.

She drew her breath in and her cunt contracted around him in spasms. He caressed her back, waiting for her to recover. Then he fucked her as he had promised, with hard, fast, furious strokes until their bodies were covered with sweat and she trembled beneath him.

He bent and nipped at her neck. “You have me so damned hard and long for you.”

“Fuck me,” she panted. “Fuck me with your long, hard cock.”

God, he’d known she’d be like this. Wanton, uninhibited. And she would become even more so as she gained experience—experience he wanted to give her. He almost trembled to think of the pleasures they might share, the heights they could reach.

“Oh, I am going to fuck you all right.” He tightened his grip on her hip and gave her another hard thrust.

She cried out sharply, the sound echoing loudly in the chamber. He put his hand over her mouth and drove her harder still. She cried out against his hand and her cunt flooded with wetness. Her body shuddered under his in the throes of the most violent orgasm he’d witnessed in a woman.

He gritted his teeth and reached to clamp the base of his cock to stop himself from slipping inside her young and fertile body. He longed to fill her with his seed but didn’t dare. He stayed inside her and let her take her full pleasure of his erect cock.

When her tremors subsided, he withdrew.

“I want to be close to you, sweetheart, very close.” He caressed her cheek.

She nodded. “Whatever you want—I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I want to come in your mouth.”

Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath. As well she should. He wanted to dominate her, to claim her.

“Will you trust me? Will you let me do this?”

She nodded again and tried to rise up.

He pressed her back down. “Stay there. You don’t have to do a thing; just lie there.” He moved up over her with his knees on either side of her shoulders. “Lift your head a little,” he said and when she did, he adjusted the pillow to elevate her head. Then he took his cock and slid the head over her lips. Christ, she had a lovely mouth. He’d never get enough of it.