Simply Shameless (19 page)

Helene licked her lips. "That is scarcely my fault, is it, monsieur?"

He grasped his cock around the base and rubbed it against her clit until she moaned.

"I didn't say it was."

He shoved his whole length deep, and Helene gasped. She tried to draw her knees up, but his weight held her pinned to the bed. He slowly withdrew his cock and stared down at it before pressing hard and deep once more.

"At first I tried not to think of you when I masturbated, but after a while, you became the only thing I wanted to fantasize about, the only thing not tainted by association with my family." He pulled out again, filled her with the whole thick length of his cock in another smooth endless stroke.

"I imagined you under me, begging me to fuck you even when I took you hard and fast, begging me to fill you with my cock."

He looked down at her, his chest heaving, his heartbeat audible. "And now I'm going to make you scream for real."

Helene moaned as he slid his hands under her knees and drew her feet over his shoulders.

She couldn't stop the depth of his penetration or his weight coming down onto her pubic bone. She kept her eyes open as he pumped into her, each stroke filling her to the brim, forcing her to climax again and again. He didn't stop even when she screamed his name, his face contorted with the agonies of lust as he rocked into her.

She grabbed his forearms and held on as he continued to pound away, determined to watch him at this most intimate of moments, to see his expression when he climaxed deep inside her. He started to groan with every stroke, his muscles trembling beneath his skin, his cock growing impossibly bigger inside her.

He climaxed with a roar that took her over with him. She had to shut her eyes then to hold on to the exquisite moment, to allow her body to endlessly spasm into pleasure, to clench and draw every last drop of his cum deep inside her. With a groan, he collapsed over her, pinning her to the bed, his face buried against her neck.

Helene lay still, allowing him this moment of possession, her mind already busy reviewing the intriguing story of his marriage. She was certain there was more hurt to uncover, more deceit, but did Philip even realize that himself? He levered himself away from her a little.

"I apologize. I should've pulled out."

Her sexual glow was abruptly extinguished. She shoved at his shoulders, and he obediently rolled over onto his back.

"Your apology is a little too late and a little complacent. You probably assume that because I'm a whore, it doesn't matter if I get pregnant."

He turned to look at her and frowned. "I meant what I said. I should have pulled out. That was all. Why make such a drama out of it?"

She rolled away from him until she was sitting on the far side of the bed and drew the sheet up to cover her breasts. "You also probably assume that a whore would know how to get rid of any inconvenient reminder of your passion."

"Helene, what in God's name has got into you?" Philip sat up and glared at her. "If I assumed anything, I apologize. If there are consequences to my actions, I would expect you to tell me and I'll honor my obligations."

"There will be no 'consequences,' as you call them. I can no longer have children." She swallowed hard. "I suppose you would consider that a blessing in my chosen profession."

Philip held up his hands. "What do you want me to say? If I agree with you, you'll be offended. If I don't, you'll probably be offended too."

Helene stared at him. Part of her wanted to stuff that pompous statement about his obligations right back down his throat and reveal the obligations he'd already given her.

The rest of her simply wanted him to leave. She raised her eyebrows.

"Are you done?"

"What?"

"Are you done with me? You've had me; don't you have to leave now?"

His expression darkened. "Helene, stop acting like some poor downtrodden whore."

She gaped at him. "What did you call me?"

He met her gaze head-on. "I don't think of you as a whore. I never have, so don't pretend to be one."

"Liar."

"Helene ..." He sighed. "I want to fuck you again. Why are you making this so difficult?"

He crawled toward her, and she tried not to look at the muscles of his thighs and the taut flatness of his stomach, where his half-erect cock flaunted itself.

"You promised me your nights. Not one quick roll in the bedclothes."

"At your age, I didn't expect you to have the stamina for more than once."

He smiled and reached down to stroke the growing hardness between his thighs.

"But then you didn't realize how much time I had to make up, did you?"

She struggled to find the words to put him at a distance again, even as her body yearned and readied itself for his touch.

"Are you seriously suggesting that after your second child was born, you never had sex again?"

He shrugged. "Not with my wife. We reached an agreement that I could have a mistress if I promised never to touch her again. I found a widow in the town twenty miles away who was content to share my bed occasionally. It was enough."

Despite herself, Helene felt some sympathy for Philip, condemned to a loveless, sexless marriage while she ... while she had at least enjoyed her scandalous life.

"How old is your daughter?"

"Emily is fifteen."

"And your older child?"

"My son, Richard? He is seventeen."

Not that much younger than the twins. Did Richard bear any resemblance to his father or to Christian? Her anger against Philip died as quickly as it had arisen. He didn't know about the twins, so his comments about her fertility were not meant to be personal. She had to remember that. If she hoped to persuade Philip to relinquish the shares to her, she had to keep to her part of the bargain.

With a sigh, she let go of the sheet and gave Philip her most beguiling smile.

"Would you like me to suck your cock?"

He stared at her for a long moment, the suspicion in his eyes clearly at war with his rising lust.

"If you promise not to bite it off."

Helene leaned over and licked the crown. "That, I can promise. I would hate to deprive myself of such pleasure."

Philip groaned as she licked him again.

"Thank God for that."

Chapter Fifteen

H
elene sat at her desk biting the end of her pen. A week had passed since Philip had agreed to her bargain, and she had not succeeded in scaring him away. In truth, he had become as familiar to her as the rest of her staff and just as efficient. At the moment, he was in the kitchen discussing the quality of the wine deliveries with Judd and Madame Dubois.

His sexual appetite knew no boundaries either. Despite his age, he was as eager to fuck as any of the young lords who had shared her bed in the past. The difference was that he liked to be the master in bed, whereas the young sprigs of nobility had allowed her to dictate every sexual move.

Helene realized she was smiling. She liked his roughness, his eagerness, and the way he tried to dominate her. It certainly made a change from all the tutoring. If she was not careful, she was going to miss him when the thirty days were up....

A commotion in the hallway interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced at the door. Mon Dieu, the twins must have returned. How on earth was she going to keep them away from Philip? It wasn't as if she could expect to dump them on George for another three weeks.

She stood up as the noise grew louder. Would Philip even recognize his own children?

Like most men, he certainly wouldn't be looking to acknowledge his old bastards.

The door opened, and George and the twins entered the room. George looked unusually harried, his hat askew, his immaculate linen crumpled. Christian looked his usual disdainful self, but Lisette had picked up some color in her cheeks.

"Your children insisted on leaving at some ungodly hour this morning and traveling at speed to get here. So here they are." George bowed in Helene's direction. "I'm off to sleep for a week. I'll see you when I wake up."

Helene blew him a kiss as he backed hastily out of the room. The twins didn't bother to say good-bye. Helene summoned a bright smile.

"Bonjour, Christian, bonjour, Lisette. How did you enjoy your visit to Brighton?"

Lisette actually smiled at her. "I enjoyed it, Maman. The scenery was beautiful, and we got to see all the fashionable people strolling on the promenade in the afternoons. Lord George was an excellent host."

"No, he wasn't," Christian interrupted.

"He was. You were just angry because he wouldn't let you gamble or join the wilder young men at their scandalous parties."

"And what would you know about it, Miss Prissy-face?"

Helene hastened to interrupt. Even during her short acquaintance with the twins, she'd realized they could snipe at each other for hours if not distracted.

"I am glad you enjoyed your stay. What would you like to do now?"

Christian frowned. "We're not ready to go back to France, if that's what you mean. We haven't seen hardly anything of London yet."

"That is true. I've arranged for a new companion to take you both around next week." She forestalled Christian with a decisive wave of her hand. "You can stay in the guest suites here as long as you keep out of the pleasure house. I won't insist you return to the hotel if you promise to behave."

Lisette's smile faded. "You cannot spare a few hours to take us out yourself?"

Helene stared at her. "I. .. assumed you wouldn't welcome my company." Had she misread the signals? Were her children trying to reach out to her?

"We don't want her with us, Lisette. She'd spoil it."

Helene turned back to Christian. "How would I do that?"

"Because you are a notorious whore. I don't want Lisette being ogled by the kind of men you deal with."

Helene sighed and sat back down. "I'm not a whore. I'm not considered completely respectable, but unless you have aspirations to be accepted by the ton, being seen in my company would hardly ruin you."

Christian shrugged, his color high. "Everyone knows who you are. You run a notorious brothel, for God's sake."

"I don't run a brothel. My clients pay a great deal of money to indulge in the sexual liaisons of their choice in the privacy of this club. I employ no professional whores, and no money changes hands." She fixed Christian with her hardest stare. "I would still like to know who told you I am a whore."

"I'd like to know why you lied to us for all these years."

Helene took a deep breath. The twins were almost adults. Perhaps they would finally understand her motives. Despite her concern over Marguerite, at least once she had to try and explain what she'd done.

"I lied because I didn't want you to be ashamed of me."

Christian raised his eyebrows, reminding her forcibly of his father at his most haughty.

"Ashamed?"

"I was unmarried and about to embark on a new business venture. I had no idea if it would succeed or not. I thought it would be better if you were both cared for in a safe place." She risked a glance at the twins and found them both listening intently. "In the early years, it also became increasingly difficult to visit France because of the continuing chaos of the revolution and the rise of Napoleon. I contemplated trying to bring you out with me, but in the end, I truly believed the nuns had the best chance of protecting you."

"Did you ever visit the nunnery, Maman?" Lisette said.

"You know I did. I tried to come at least once a year."

"But you never really saw it. You only saw the pieces the nuns allowed you to see."

"Are you suggesting you were mistreated?"

Lisette stirred in her seat. "Not mistreated, non, but the nuns cared for a lot of children, and we were but two of many. We were separated as well."

Helene swallowed hard. Was that true? "I did what I thought was best for you at the time.

I was working twenty hours a day to get the pleasure house on its feet. Even if you'd stayed with me, I would never have seen you nor had time to care for you."

Christian took his sister's hand. "Non, maman, you did what was best for yourself. That's what you've always done. You abandoned us and Marguerite for your own selfish gain."

She met his hard gaze and remembered how convinced she'd been that her choices were right. She recognized that same determined light in her son's hazel eyes.

"I was eighteen, when I made that choice Christian. The same age as you are now. Do you truly believe every decision you make is correct?"

"Of course I do or I wouldn't make them."

She smiled haltingly. "That is the advantage of growing older. I'm no longer sure I made the right choices when I was your age."

"But you made them."

"And I have to live with them." She held his gaze, trying to show him the love in her eyes, but he looked away. "As you will have to live with the choices you make now." She took a deep breath. "And before you ask, I've had no news of Marguerite yet."

There was a gentle knock on the open door, and Philip looked in. "Am I disturbing you, madame?"

She gathered her composure and managed a smile. "Not at all, my lord. We were just finished." She turned to the twins and spoke in rapid French.

"We can continue this conversation later. After your long journey, you probably need to eat. Why don't you go down to the kitchen and see Madame Dubois? I'm sure she can make you a delicious meal."

Christian looked mutinous. "I'm not a child. Don't tell me what to do." He glanced at Philip, who waited patiently in the doorway. "Who's that, your latest lover? He looks a little old in the tooth. I heard you like them young."

"I will see you later, Christian, Lisette."

The twins filed out, Lisette looking as unhappy as her brother. Helene turned to Philip and prayed his French was not as good as hers. How much had he understood of the conversation—and worse, what might he have overheard?

Philip studied Helene's flushed face. She looked truly upset, something he hadn't believed possible until she had started to shed her layers of absolute composure to reveal the passionate woman within. His French was excellent, but the speed of her delivery and the local dialect had kept him from understanding every word. Still, he was convinced he had the gist of it.