Chapter 27 #2
“Oh, stop it, the pair of you,” Alice cut in, pressing fingers to her temple.
“John, I thank you, but I need no referee. Nathaniel is not, nor has he ever been, a threat to me. Nathaniel”—her eyes sought his, pleading now—“please, make an effort with John. He is the only family I have left, and he has been nothing but a good brother. Truly, you two should be the best of friends.”
Nathaniel looked at her, then at John, then took a deep breath. Slowly, he extended his hand. “You heard Alice’s wishes. Now that I know the truth, I have no quarrel with you. On the contrary—I thank you for caring for her when I did not.”
John grasped his hand in a firm shake. “So long as you never cause her pain again, we should get along famously. And now, I will leave you to it. You clearly have much to discuss.” His gaze softened on Alice. “For what it’s worth, I hope it works out.”
The front door clicked shut behind him.
Nathaniel turned back to her, eyes dark with desire and something more dangerous. “Now…where were we?”
Her lips parted on a breath. His hovered just above hers, an invitation she could no longer resist. Didn’t want to resist. She rose onto her toes and claimed his mouth.
The kiss tasted of anger and desire. Frustration and hope. And not only his, but hers as well. It was hard, deep, both of them fighting for dominance. Attempting to inflict punishment.
He seized her hands and pinned them above her head, while his hard, unyielding, unmistakably aroused body held her fast against the wall.
His mouth tore from hers, just to nip along her jaw, down her neck.
He opened her legs to rub her aching center against the hard ridge of his cock.
The pressure felt good. But not enough. There were too many layers of clothing between them.
She wanted them all gone. Wanted to rub her naked body against his.
His voice was low, gravelly, as he growled in her ear. “I can’t believe you fucking led me to think you were betraying me.”
She gasped at the sharp bite of his teeth on her shoulder. “I can’t believe you fucking thought I would betray you.” She snapped back.
“What the hell was I supposed to think?” he said, biting her nipple through the fabric of her bodice, shooting a stream of desire to her core and making her arch. “You withheld important information.”
Another bite, another pinch. She was writhing now against him. Held steady only by his hand and his body.
“Not…on purpose.” She gasped, her capacity for speech impaired by her need.
She was bloody angry as well. At him as well as herself.
Why hadn’t she opened the damn letter? Why hadn’t he demanded answers before now?
They were experts at ferreting out information, yet when it came to their own lives, they became completely inept.
Maybe the very thing that made them such skilled agents also hindered their communication.
They were both too used to secrecy, to holding their cards close to their chests.
But it shouldn’t be like that between them, damn it.
Her thoughts scattered as a long finger found its way inside her drawers, feathering over her nether lips and then sliding smoothly inside her channel. A keening sound tore from her throat at the intimate caress.
“Fuck, you are so wet. I could make you come so easily right now.” His voice was dark as sin in her ear while he played with her. Sliding his finger in and out, brushing her button as if accidentally.
“But I won’t. Not yet.” He withdrew his hand, and she growled like an animal. He only smiled. But it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was dark, and dangerous. Promising retribution. “I want to punish you a little. Torture you for the pain you’ve caused.”
After that pronouncement, equal parts disturbing and arousing, he hoisted her up with his hands under her backside, and marched toward the staircase. She wrapped her legs around him and ground her center into the rigid bulge in his trousers. He gasped, broke his stride and almost tripped.
“Wicked wench. You’ll pay for that.”
The threat sent a thrill down her spine.
He shouldered open their bedchamber door and threw her onto the bed.
She tried to scoot back, to sit up, but he grabbed her legs and pulled her toward him, flipping her onto her stomach at the same time.
Then he yanked her drawers down and off, and ran his hands up her thighs, over the orbs of her arse.
The mass of fabric of her skirts and petticoat fell over her head as he pushed them up.
“Oh, darling, if you could see yourself now. You look so beautiful with your round bottom exposed, your pretty pink cunny already dripping for me.”
She tried to close her legs out of spite, but he was standing between them. She bent her knees to crawl, and two slaps fell in rapid succession on her arse, drawing a surprised gasp from her, before he pulled her back.
“You little spitfire. You like it rough, don’t you?” he whispered in her ear as he rubbed a hand over the buttcheeks he had just abused. “You love to tussle with me. Push me. Provoke me.”
The contrast between the sting of the slaps and the tenderness of his caress had a fresh rush of arousal gushing between her legs.
Of course, he wouldn’t miss that. He ran his finger through her arousal, circling the entrance to her body, brushing her bud, before unexpectedly sinking a finger into her sheath. “Fuck, you are so hot and wet. Tell me, Alice, do you like it when I spank you?”
She did. But she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. If this was supposed to be punishment, then she would act badly indeed, to prolong the punishment as long as possible.
Her only response was the movement of her hips, trying to rub herself on his fingers. He chuckled. And removed his hand.
“No satisfaction unless you ask me for it nicely. Tell me, Alice. Do you want this?”
Arghh! The impossible man. “Yes, damn you.”
His hand returned. “Much better. I could see you wanted this. Your body is answering for you.”
The relentless caress of his fingers was wounding her tighter. She buried her face in the sheets to smother her moan. He chuckled.
“But I like it when you tell me. When you admit it to yourself. Let’s see how long you can last.”
So saying, he withdrew his fingers from her, and delivered two more slaps.
The crack of his hand upon her flesh was loud, shocking, and arousing.
She tried once again to close her legs, to find relief for the insistent ache in her core, and once again, he prevented it.
Pressing a hand to her back to keep her down, he continued to set her arse on fire with his stinging slaps, then caressing her core with infinite tenderness.
By the time he pulled her to the edge of the mattress and sank his enormous cock inside her in one quick plunge, she was delirious with need. Her growl of pleasure sounded like a wild animal’s.
He set a punishing pace, allowing no retreat, no reprieve. But she didn’t want any. She didn’t want gentle. She wanted this savage possession, this wild mating.
His hand sneaked around her hip and under her, to tease and caress her bud while his body filled her. It was too much.
The orgasm he had been building exploded, overtaking every part of her body, and she screamed his name as she shook and shuddered with her orgasm. He increased his pace, drawing out her pleasure, until with a powerful, deep shove, he joined her in her release.
Later, as they lay spent and bare, tangled in the rumpled sheets, he traced her shoulder with reverent fingers. “I’ll withdraw the divorce petition at once.”
Her heart squeezed. But aloud she said, “Perhaps…perhaps you should not.”
His head jerked back. “What?”
And thus the fragile peace between them fractured once more…
Alice rose, bringing the sheet to cover her bare chest as she sat cross-legged against the pillows. Nathaniel also rose, but he left the bed to pace, naked, around the room. Restless as a caged lion.
“We are good together, Nate,” she said softly.
“As long as we are working side by side, as long as we’re here.
In our old house. Away from Greystone. Away from your estate.
Away from your title. Nothing has changed in that regard.
I’m still not suited to be an aristocrat, and your family will never accept me. ”
His head snapped up. “That’s not true.” He came closer, eyes burning with conviction.
“I’ve seen you play every role under the sun—servant, widow, duchess, spy.
You are the smartest, most capable woman I’ve ever known.
Do you really think you couldn’t play the role of an aristocrat?
And better than half the ladies who were born to it?
Hell, you’ve aristocratic blood in your veins yourself. ”
She shook her head, clutching the sheet tighter.
“It’s different when I’m just playing a role.
It’s not personal, it doesn’t matter. I can come out of it.
But to try to become the role? I lived it.
I felt it. At your estate, with your mother, your sister-in-law…
I was profoundly unhappy. I was rejected at every turn.
Even you changed. I lost myself there. I can’t go back. ”
He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. His voice softened. “It will be different this time.”
Alice scoffed. “No it won’t. What makes you think that? Just because we spent a few weeks together doing what we used to do before the problems started, you think I’m now suited for the role for which I proved to be completely incompetent?”
“Yes. You will learn, like I did. I’m not saying there won’t be issues, but I’ll help you.”