Everything Forbidden (9 page)

He didn’t want this need to be with
her
more than any other woman. He didn’t want this…this strange caring about her welfare. And today he would regain control over his emotions and her body.

His door opened and Winston put his head into the room. “Miss Albright awaits you in the, er,
other
chamber, my lord. Will you require anything this morning?”

Ethan’s blood roared hot at the fact that Miranda was here in his home, waiting for him in the room he’d built for sex and sex alone. God, he wanted to touch her. Taste her.

“Privacy,” he said as he marched to the door and past the butler. “All we shall require is privacy unless I call for you.”

He didn’t hear Winston’s reply over the rush of blood in his ears. His body and mind were too occupied with getting to Miranda to pay attention to anything else.

He thrust open the outer door to his special chamber and came to a halt at the inner one. Calm. Control. He had to remember those things. He could have his pleasure and he intended to do just that. But he couldn’t let Miranda’s innocence corrupt him, for lack of a better word.

He threw open the door, letting it fly back to collide against the opposite wall. Miranda was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the bed, but she jumped at the loud crash of wood on wood and spun to face him.

Ethan took a deep breath as he stared at her.

He had always been the kind of man who found himself crossing rooms to speak to women who were blatant. Even the proper widows who had graced his bed had all been daring in their attire. Low necklines and bold colors were normally his siren song.

But with Miranda, things were different, as seemed to be the theme. Here she stood, surrounded by black velvet and tools of sex, yet her demure sensuality attracted him more than anything else. She wore an icy blue gown that matched the stunning color of her eyes, but it wasn’t the kind of outfit meant to summon men to her side. The neckline was fashionable, but didn’t reveal her cleavage. The fabric wasn’t sheer in any places, nor did it scream out to be touched.

So why did her mere appearance make his erection spring to life?

Perhaps it was the very fact that her gown
didn’t
proclaim her
intent and desire. She wasn’t on display for any man to ogle at. She was his.
He
was the only man who knew what her breasts looked like as her gown fell away from them. The only man to have touched her in an intimate way. The only one who had experienced the searing passion that masqueraded under her exterior of a proper miss.

Those facts were surprisingly powerful.

“Hello, Ethan,” she said, tilting her head to look at him.

He realized he had been standing completely motionless, staring at her for at least a full minute.

“Good morning,” he managed to say as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Her gaze shifted to the door and he thought he saw
relief
in her expression.

“I admit, I was nervous about coming here,” she said softly as she watched him move toward her.

He stopped. “Nervous? Why?”

“Your note to my mother on Monday made me worried that I had displeased you in some way,” she admitted after a pause. Her cheeks turned a charming pink as she looked away from him to stare at the floorboards.

He drew back in surprise. “I am living up to my part of the agreement. I offered to sponsor your first sister’s Season. That was what you wanted, was it not?”

She shifted slightly and continued to stare anyplace but his face. “Yes, of course, but I have not…that is, I’ve only come here one Friday. I haven’t yet earned her Season.”

Ethan shrugged. “You have earned one quarter of our arranged price. As long as you continue to come and do as we agreed you
would, I see no reason why I shouldn’t render my payments as we go.” He stepped toward her, unable to keep himself from being near her. “You don’t intend to renege, do you?”

Her gaze finally met his and she caught her breath, almost like she’d forgotten what he looked like and was reminded when he came closer. His blood burned as her lips parted on a tiny sigh.

“No, Ethan,” she whispered.

“Were you upset when you believed me to be disappointed?” he asked, reaching for her. He caught her forearm and pulled her against his chest, molding her body to his own.

She caught her breath and her pupils dilated with desire. “Y-Yes.”

“Because you thought you had lost the chance to help your family?” he pressed as he threaded his fingers into her blonde hair and let the pins holding her style clatter to the floor around her. “Or was it because of some other reason?”

She let out a little whimper as her hair fell around her shoulders in a fragrant wave. “Ethan—”

He cupped the back of her skull and tilted her face up. “Which one was it?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed and he watched the delicate movements in fascination. How could he find her every little activity, even the benign ones, erotic?

“I was upset,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Because I thought you might turn me away if you didn’t want me anymore. I was upset because I thought we wouldn’t—that we wouldn’t—”

“I have, in essence, purchased you for three months, Miranda,” he growled as he brought his lips down to the curve of her
throat. Her pulse pounded beneath his lips. “I have no intention of turning you away.”

He darted his tongue out to taste her flesh and Miranda’s hands came up to grip his shoulders as she let out a low moan. The sound was infinitely arousing, a noise of pleasure-pain that echoed the frustration he had been feeling since their last parting a week before. Without words, it spoke of Miranda’s desire, her fears, her fantasies.

And it stripped away his intentions to be cool and collected as he took her. Need pounded up behind him like an inferno and he had to have her beneath him. He had to taste her.

He had to do it now.

Miranda sensed a change in Ethan as his kisses against her throat grew hungrier, wilder. It shocked her that she could be so attuned to him when she hardly knew him at all. It seemed
wrong
to feel any kind of emotional connection to him while understanding nothing about his family or his past or his dreams. The rational part of her told her to pull away, but her body wouldn’t allow for that. Instead, she leaned into the curve of his body, arching toward his seeking lips.

“God, you are drugging,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her. “So sweet.”

His dark gaze came up and snagged hers. There was so much sinful promise in that one look that her knees began to tremble and she felt the telltale wetness of desire begin to overflow from her shaking body. All that with a look. What power this man wielded over her in such a short time.

“I wonder, Miranda,” he said as he backed her toward the settee in the middle of the room. “Do you taste as sweet everywhere?”

“What?” she breathed, hardly able to think, let alone speak when he was tugging at her buttons, pulling her dress away, her undergarments. Leaving her utterly naked.

Her cloudy mind tried to process what he had asked and suddenly it became clear. He wanted to lick her, to taste her just as she’d seen him do dozens of times to other women. An intimate kiss.

He lowered her to the settee, laying her head back against one of the pillows as he dragged her backside to the edge of the couch. He palmed her thighs with his hot hands and they fell apart like she had been born to offer herself to him.

Just as he had the first time they were together, Ethan looked at her for a long moment. She realized how much he
liked
witnessing her arousal, and how much power he took in seeing how wild he could make her.

“A taste, Miranda,” he whispered as he dropped to his knees on the floor between her legs. “It will be so good for you, I swear it.”

Miranda could hardly manage to give a jerky nod. He had no idea how many times she’d fantasized about this very experience. About watching his dark head dip down between her pale thighs, about feeling his mouth latch on to her pussy.

But he didn’t simply press his mouth to her. He leaned in closer and blew a hot gust of breath over her ultrasensitive outer lips. Her body clenched, gripping at emptiness as her already slick folds grew wetter in readiness for the pleasure about to come.

He slid his hands higher until his thumbs brushed her folds. Miranda shuddered and couldn’t hold back a moan. She had been waiting for him to touch her ever since the last time they made love. It had haunted her thoughts for days. And now that the moment was here, just the slightest touch made her aching body quiver on the edge of a powerful release.

He stroked her lightly and then peeled her open, exposing her wet slit and the aching nub of her clit. Ethan let out a low curse, so quiet she couldn’t make out exactly what he’d said. Then his rough tongue stroked over her opening in one long, languid lick.

Hips arching helplessly at the focused, spiraling sensation, Miranda cried out.

The touch lived up to all her fantasies and more. It was heavenly. So focused. So hot. It was like Ethan had found every part of her body that could experience pleasure and united their attention to one place with his tongue.

The rough texture stroked over her clit, making it swell and tingle with each stroke. She couldn’t help lifting to meet each caress, nor could she silence her wanton moans of encouragement. Pleasure spiraled throughout her body, her nerves tingled and her muscles contracted out of control. She could feel release coming, building like a wall before her. And it was going to be intense, it was going to be powerful. She reached for it, longing for the explosion of sensation.

The pleasure crystallized in an instant, overpowering her as her cries turned to screams and her hips rocked helplessly as her body shook out of control. Ethan continued to torment her with his mouth, tasting, licking, sucking until she was weak from re
lease and could hardly move to meet his strokes any longer.

He pulled away, a wicked smile tilting his lips as he stared at her flushed face.

“I could watch you come all day,” he said. “In fact, perhaps I shall do just that.”

Miranda’s eyes widened as he pushed to his feet and shed his clothing with practiced efficiency. When he peeled his trousers away from his cock and it sprung free, she sat up.

As much as she had been fascinated by watching Ethan pleasure his lovers with his skilled mouth, she had wondered what it would be like to do the same to him. Now his erection was right before her, offered up.

She reached for him before he could cover her body, taking him in hand just as she had the first time they were together. He sucked in a breath at the touch and braced his legs apart like he was trying to keep from pitching over.

“Ethan, I want to,” she hesitated, uncertain as to how to explain what she wanted to do. “I want to do to you what you just did to me.”

His eyes widened and he stared at her like she’d just offered to tup the entire serving staff.

“And what would you know about that?” he asked, watching her swirl her thumb around the mushroom head of his cock. He stifled a groan at the touch.

She swallowed. The last thing she wanted to do was admit her predilection for spying on his sexual exploits all these years. “I-I saw it in one of the pictures on your wall.”

That explanation seemed to appease him. “Very well. No teeth, please.”

She nodded, but she was no longer looking at his face. Instead, she stared at his erection. He was hot and hard in her hand. His member curled up toward his contoured stomach, a proud declaration of his virile power.

Miranda inched forward, closer and closer, and finally, gently, she stroked her cheek against him.

Ethan bit back a moan as he stared down at her in surprise. Her mouth he had been expecting, perhaps a daring touch of her tongue, but not the caress of her cheek. No woman had ever done that before. The brush of her skin against his cock was so…so tender. Sensual, but still personal. And it made him come to attention even more.

Miranda looked up at him and met his gaze briefly. Her blue eyes were bright with wanting and tinged with a bit of inexperienced worry. But there was also determination and hot desire.

Miranda turned her attention back to the work at hand. Darting her tongue out, she stroked it experimentally across the swollen head of his erection. Ethan jerked at the heat of her mouth, the intense pleasure the fleeting touch caused. But it was nothing compared to the explosion of sensation that ricocheted through his body when she wrapped her lips around him and slowly eased him into the hot cavern of her mouth.

She moved gradually, testing out what his girth felt like, taking him in at a painfully slow pace that only served to torment him. If she had been any other woman, he would have believed she was doing that on purpose, toying with him. But not Miranda. Everything she did was so unpracticed, so natural. Like she had been built to pleasure a man.

To pleasure
him
.

She began to withdraw, moving back until he had almost left her mouth, but then she stopped. Her tongue rolled, wrapping over him and back under with a firm pressure that made his vision blur with the absolute ecstasy of her touch. His knees almost buckled and he reached forward and caught her shoulders to keep his knees from going out from under him.

“Was that wrong?” she whispered, pulling away to gaze up at him.

“No,” he managed to grind out through clenched teeth. “Perfect. Just do that again, but a bit faster.”

She nodded and repeated the action, following his directions about increased speed. Ethan could hardly see through the fog her mouth created in his mind.

A quick learner and an immediate study in seduction, Miranda sucked on him like she knew all the intricacies of a man’s pleasure. And if her little vibrating moans were any indication, what she was doing gave her as much pleasure as it brought to him. Which made the act all the hotter since not every woman found enjoyment in the activity. Some of his lovers had even used it as a bargaining chip in the past.

Ethan tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her strokes with gentle urging as he dipped his head back over his shoulders and savored every sensation.

But as her mouth moved faster and she instinctively added the smooth strokes of her hand, enjoyment turned to something more potent. His pleasure mounted, burning hotter, faster until his release bore down on him like an out of control stallion.

“Miranda,” he groaned, tugging back to keep himself from spending in her mouth. “Enough.”

She ignored his order, clamping one hand around his backside to keep him in her mouth.

“Miranda!” he protested, though the sound was weak indeed.

She hummed out a noise of pleasure and Ethan groaned, trying desperately to hold back the flood of release, but it was fruitless.

With a harsh, loud cry he lost control and pumped hot. He expected Miranda to recoil from the burst, but she stayed where she was, taking every drop of his essence until he softened and slipped from her lips.

Ethan gasped, trying to catch his breath. As his heart rate returned to normal and his vision cleared, the full ramifications of what had occurred rushed through him. He stared down at Miranda, who had flopped back against the settee cushions with her arm over her face. He flinched. She was probably traumatized, though she had no one to blame but herself. He’d tried to warn her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice sounding strangely stiff and unnatural. He wasn’t accustomed to comforting his lovers.

She uncovered her face and looked up at him. While he’d expected tears or shock, instead she smiled. Her face shone with pleasure.

“More than all right. Was I…” She hesitated with a pretty blush. “Did I please you?”

He frowned, turning away. Please him? Fuck, she’d nearly take his head off with the intensity of his pleasure. Oh, he’d come like that before, but never because he lost control. He’d always taken
great pride in being able to manage when he found release.

But Miranda had swept that all away with a few hot swipes of her pretty mouth. She had taken his control. Again.

He spun on her. “Yes. Quite lovely,” he said with a benign smile.

Immediately her cat-in-the-cream grin fell, replaced by an embarrassed flash of hurt.

“Lovely?” she repeated, her face twisting like the word was poison on her lips.

He nodded. “Yes. But I don’t think we have anything else to do today. So you may return home.”

She stumbled to her feet. “But it’s just after noon! I only arrived a few hours ago. I am yours until tomorrow.”

He turned away with a frown. That reminder conjured such powerful images of all the things he wanted to do to her. But in every scenario, he couldn’t see himself doing anything less than losing control again and again. Taking her, but being unable to keep himself slightly distant from the pleasure.

Worse, he found himself wanting more. Wanting to
talk
to her. Comfort her and make that flash of self-doubt he’d seen in her eyes go away.

Impossible.

“Don’t you understand? I don’t
want
you here any longer, Miranda,” he barked, spinning on her. “Consider today a free day toward your debt!”

She stumbled back like she’d been physically struck and pain flashed so clearly on every single line of her face that it was palpable in the room around them. But then she quietly cleared the pain away. Pushed it back, far back. A familiar thing to Ethan.
He had been practicing the same method for so many years he’d lost count.

She nodded as she reached for her clothing. “Very well, Lord Rothschild. If that is what you desire, I’ll go.”

Miranda turned her back as she dressed, covering up all the curves he’d taken such pleasure in revealing. Watching them disappear beneath the worn fabric of her gown gave him far less enjoyment than unwrapping her body.

When she had fastened her last button and used the large mirror beside the bed to fix her tangled tresses, she turned back to him. Though she was trying to hide it behind a façade of calm, the muted hurt still sparkled in her stare.

“Good afternoon,” she said softly. “Send me word if you do not wish to see me again.”

Then she left, without so much as a backward glance.

Ethan stared at the door she’d shut behind her. Self-loathing washed over him, covering everything in a dark cloud of self-directed anger and out-and-out hatred.

He’d hurt her. He shouldn’t care that he’d done so. After all, she was just the woman he was sleeping with and he’d never given his lovers’ emotional well-being much thought in the past.

But Miranda was different. Which was the problem, after all. Something about her made him want to care. To forget about the past and all the things he knew he was capable of doing that would ultimately destroy a woman like her.

He had to do something about this. Something to regain his power.

He could break the bargain.

A flash of horror rushed through him. No. That wasn’t the
answer. He wanted Miranda and the only way to purge that want was to have her until he bored of her. But he couldn’t let her natural, unpracticed passions make him lose his head again. The next time she visited him, he would not
let
it happen.

He would become emotionless. He had done it in the past, he could bloody well do it again.

Miranda hurried through the woods until she was certain she was out of sight of the house. Not that she thought Ethan was actually watching her go. He could hardly look at her when she was in the room with him, why would he care enough to stare as she stumbled away?

Humiliation rushed through her. She had been so thrilled by what had happened. She’d
liked
giving Ethan pleasure, feeling his famous control waver. But afterward, his dismissal had been so cold and emotionless.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back ferociously. She wasn’t going to cry! Not over this. Not after everything else that had happened to her.