Perilous Risk (19 page)

Surely,
she
was too old now for such games.

“What’s the matter, Rebecca?” His tone was tender.

She realized she was chewing her lip. She stopped and tried to force a smile.

“Tell me.”

“You must have many young ladies.”

He raised his brows. “This is what is troubling you?”

Heat flashed over her face. “Yes,” she said breathily, then she laughed softly, releasing some of her rising nervousness.

“Young ladies are a dangerous lot. An unwary man may soon find himself wed or staring down the barrel of a duelling pistol.”

She laughed again. “You mean to say that you don’t dally or flirt with the young ladies? As a new baron, you must be highly sought after.”

“There’s only one lady I am interested in at the moment.”

She smiled, feeling a little apprehensive and not sure what he was going to do. What would he expect?

“I think you should have the pleasure of telling me no without my necessarily paying the matter much heed.”

She grinned, for she liked to say no. She also liked to beg and plead .

“But what shall you say if you truly wish me to stop?”

“I don’t know…” She surely couldn’t use the word she had in the past. She shrugged. “Halt?”

“Halt it is then. If you say halt, I shall cease anything and everything I am doing.” He reached his hand to her. “Come.”

Her mouth went dry and her insides turned to flutters. To hide her nervousness, she flashed him a quick smile and put her hand into his. He led her to the bed and then he sat.

He patted his lap. “Across my knees, love.”

Pleasure, anticipation, apprehension and flustered bashfulness all swept over her in a dizzying array.

Only Jon had ever spanked her in a moment like this. She had never shown this side of herself to anyone else. They had kept this side of their play carefully and perhaps a bit jealously hidden.

What would it mean to show this side to another man? If she let herself come undone, if she showed him just how this type of act aroused every aspect of her emotional being, what would he think?

She would have told Jon all of this. She never held back anything relating to sex when she’d been with him. But here, today with Stephen, she just didn’t know. The stakes were too high for some reason.

Yes, that was exactly it, the emotional stakes felt too damned high. That was what scared her the most. That was what made her drag her feet when she had never, ever before played the reluctant missish girl.

“Rebecca.”

His firm tone made her jerk her gaze to his lap. She imagined herself spread over his lap.

Desire pulsed through her sex.

Oh God, oh God. She wanted this. So badly.

Would she appear foolish? Would he be ultimately repulsed?

Oh, God, she wanted it too badly. She was just going to have to take a chance.

She walked to him and laid herself over his lap. He took hold of her body, adjusted her to suit himself. She became aware of just how strong he was. She was vulnerable, he could choose to do whatever he wished. The thought sent alternating currents of fear and anticipation coursing through her already heated blood.

“Rest your hands on the floor, sweeting.”

Oh God. A smile took over her face, half humour at herself, half a silent, nervous giggle. With her stomach gone all floaty and her heart lodged in her throat, she put her hands flat on the floor.

He stroked her bottom. “God but you have a gorgeous arse.”

She released her breath in a breathy giggle.

He stilled his hand and pressed her hips down gently. His erection swelled against her mons. He traced a finger between the twin cheeks, going forward until he was touching the backside of her cunny. As he touched her wetness, she heard the brief catch in his breath.

She began clenching, hoping he would linger and explore deeper.

He withdrew his hand.

But now he knew just how aroused she was by this whole situation. Her heart began to hammer, to go wayward. What would he think?

Oh God, what would he
think
?

Crack!

She jumped, startled out of her thoughts by the first strike of his hand on her buttocks. Just firm enough to make her take notice, a slight sting was beginning to bloom.

Heat rushed to her sex. Pulsed in her nub.

She wiggled against his erection.

Crack!

“Oh…” She couldn’t help the little vocalization. It was so stimulating, so thrilling, so everything she had been missing for such a long time.

Crack!

The force of his hand increased this time, sending a more intense burn through her. Her quim clenched like mad and wetness flowed from her. He would surely know…

He spanked her over and over, his hand landing in different spots, neglecting not one inch of her bottom. He increased the firmness with each swat, driving her mad with the increasing intensity of sensation.

She lay there and let herself ride the glorious tide of sensation.

He stopped.

Her world reeled for a moment. Had she wanted him to stop? Or not?

She couldn’t be sure. Still, she was rusty with this. Her heart was pounding and sweat had slicked her body. Her buttocks burned.

From behind, he touched her cunny and explored her swollen, drenched folds. His barely there touch made her crave more and she gasped, a sound as much of frustration as anything else. He slipped his finger inside then he grunted with satisfaction. He pulled his hand back then slipped in two fingers, this time plunging deep, curling his fingers and pressing into her forward wall.

Her gasp was louder than the last and echoed in her ears longer. He worked her methodically, leisurely, gradually increasing the speed. His thumb brushed her nub, sending sparks up through her belly, the first tantalising taste of her orgasm. She gasped again, then moaned convulsively.

He rubbed her harder, faster.

She sucked in her breath and everything inside of her drew tight, then exploded in an unbearable blaze of pleasure and release.

She came back to herself, first aware of the cool air on her neck. He was lifting her sweat-damped hair, stroking her neck, her back. As she lay there, soaking in his attention, his presence, she then became aware of the incredible pressure building and thrumming in her pelvis, the throbbing in her nub, the second climax demanding to be ignited.

She arched her hips downward, pressing into the hard heat of his erection and a mewling sound echoed in her ears. A fervent, feline-like sound like she had never imagined
she
would make. She had always been so practical and straightforward in her enjoyment in bed, with no need for such affected theatrics.

But she couldn’t help it. A string of those silly sounds were escaping her and she didn’t even possess the good sense to cringe inside. She just kept arching against him.

He put his hand on her buttocks, increasing the stinging in her still heated flesh, and he pressed her mons harder against his rearing erection.

Need pulsated within her, unbearably forceful need, and she shrieked.

He gave her arse a hard spank. “Go to the bed and kneel for me.”

God, she didn’t think she could possibly move. And she uttered a little moan of protest.

He smacked her buttock again. More firmly. The slap sounded sharply as the sting cut through her mental haze. Not wanting to risk another, she half arose, trying to show her good intentions.

God, she was tingling from head to toes.

“Go to the bed.” His tone was hoarser than usual and wholly unyielding. He tipped his lap, forcing her to come to her feet.

She stood on quivering, weak legs and scrambled to obey him. No sooner had her arms and knees made contact with the worn sheets that smelt of stale soap and ancient lavender but he was behind her. Pressing her into the featherbed, his cock touching her entrance.

With a jerk of his hips, his cock filled her, stretched her. His balls slapped her mons, her nub.

He gave a harsh groan. Or had it been more of a shout?

She couldn’t be sure. Her heart, like a fierce drumbeat on a battle morning, pounding in her ears, had dampened the sound. He put his hand on her head and pressed her down, gentle yet ruthlessly determined, until she lay with her forehead against the stale sheets.

That mildew scent reminded her of other nights spent in out of the way inns whilst following her husband in the Dragoons. It reminded her of travel, of the promise of change, excitement. An escape from the dreary sameness of her days.

That smell, combined with the musky odour of their sex and his pungent, masculine sweat, became exquisitely erotic. He slid his hand up her nape, sending shudders of sensation down her spine, then he swept the mass of her damp, tangled curls into his hand and pulled her hair so that she had to lift her head.

He growled. The animal noise vibrated into her bones, making her shudder with apprehension.

With his other hand, he grasped her hip and pressed, deeply, until the crown of his cock pressed against her womb.

Pleasure rocked through her.

His thickness throbbed, stretching against her walls. She clenched and clenched, squeezing him, savouring the sensation. Loving the feeling of fullness and pressure.

He withdrew, all the way.

An anguished moan cut the silence, a strange, strangled contralto female voice. It took her a moment to realize that it was from her. And the moan still echoed. Followed by another. She was pleading, using stupid, senseless words.

He tightened his grip on her hair then entered her. One forceful, swift stroke upwards. He groaned then pulled back and thrust forward again. Then he was ramming her again and again, taking everything she had.

She arched her back, pressing her core to meet his savage fucking. It was as though she had yearned for this for so long, from him, that she must get it hard and furious or die.

“Come, Rebecca,” he ordered tersely.

He drove into her, pounding into her. His thrusts became wrenching, punctuated by his guttural groans.

He gave one last shove into her and he froze. He groaned, louder this time, it resounded as though he were in pain. Tortured. His cock jerked within her and his seed surged, hot and forceful, deep, deep inside her. His hips bucked as he continued to release torrents of come.

The heat and explosive force of his climax rocked through her. Her inner walls squeezed his thick, hard length again and again and waves of pleasure burst within her.

Stephen caressed Rebecca’s back as they lay in the bed. “You should know. I will never do certain things.”

She looked down at her hands. “To what things are you referring?”

“I shan’t ever use my crop or a whip on your body, in any way.”

Her face heated. She couldn’t look at him. She traced a small hole in the sheet. “Those things can be quite pleasurable when applied in the right manner.” She paused and took a trembling breath. “A precise manner.”

“Is it the pain that you crave?”

“Oh, goodness…” She couldn’t speak so openly to him of such matters. At least not yet. He would think she was too peculiar. Perverse.

“I have had many lovers,” he said in a gentle tone. “I have experienced many expressions of pleasure. You cannot tell me much that will surprise or shock me.”

“It’s not the pain. Not entirely. But pain is part of it… Oh, it is so hard to explain.”

“Go slowly, my dear. I am a patient man.”

“Being willing to take pain, denial…whatever I must to show my willingness to please—” A wave of uneasiness rippled through her belly. How wise was it to be so honest with him about such things? She was handing him so much power. But, she took a deep breath and soldiered on with it. “It arouses me to be at the mercy of a man. I cannot explain it better than that.”

“You needn’t. I understand.” He took her hand. “When I was a boy, after my parents died of a fever, my sister and I were sent to live with our uncle.”

“What about your brother?”

“He went to live with another relative. He was on the frail side and our uncle, who wanted helping hands in house, had no use for him.” Stephen traced the lines of her palm. “My uncle was a cruel man, Rebecca. He used implements of torture.”

Sympathy pressed hard upon her throat. “Oh Stephen!”

“That he did so to me was not so great a matter. But my sister, though older than me, was tender in her nature. She couldn’t hold up against his brutal actions. He destroyed her. I tried to defend her.” Stephen’s face grew cold, closed. “His actions destroyed her.”

His tone was so lacking in emotion. She didn’t know how to reply. She didn’t know if he
wanted
her to reply.

“In the Dragoons…when I enlisted…I had thought to save up enough money so that…”His voice broke. “She died six months after I left.”

Shock still resounded through her. “You never spoke of her.”