Chapter 16 #2
There was something in her voice that made Julian pay attention. Was she trying to convey a warning to him? And if so, what exactly was she worried about?
“I hope you didn’t allow Walcott to escort you,” Julian said, one eye on Lady Brenton, who was rapidly approaching.
“No.” Mrs. Sheraton grinned at him. “I’m not quite that awful.”
Carenza muttered something under her breath, and Julian nudged her in the ribs. “Why don’t you go and get yourself some refreshments while I welcome our new guest?”
The look Carenza gave him wasn’t a friendly one, but she walked away without comment.
Before Julian could ask what Mrs. Sheraton was plotting, Lady Brenton joined them, looking very pleased with herself.
“Julian, how kind of you to invite me to your house.” She proffered her hand, and he kissed it. “Olivia assured me that I would receive a very warm welcome here, indeed.” Lady Brenton batted her eyelashes at Julian.
“Mrs. Sheraton is correct,” Julian replied and couldn’t resist a little sarcasm. “I recently had all the windows repaired or replaced. It has made a huge difference to the comfort of my guests. Now, please help yourselves to refreshments while I consult with my housekeeper.”
Julian knew he shouldn’t be the one yielding ground in his own house, but things were rapidly spiraling out of control. He had the fleeting urge to leave them all to it and head back to London for the peace and quiet he’d craved. But Carenza would never forgive him if he did.
He had to go into the kitchen to find Mrs. Glebe and ask her to prepare yet another room.
She said she’d put Lady Brenton next to his mother and then gently reminded him it was the last decent bedroom and that any more guests would have to sleep in the nursery or in the attics.
He apologized again, ignoring the glare the cook was giving him and her muttered comment about how was she supposed to divide the fish between his ever-expanding guest list?
Aragon came in through the back door and caught him staring blindly at the window.
“Everything all right?” Aragon paused beside him.
“Mrs. Sheraton brought my old mistress with her.”
“Lady Brenton?”
“Yes.”
Aragon patted his shoulder. “This should prove a very entertaining house party, brother. I’m so glad you invited me.” He started for the door and then looked back over his shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make Mother behave herself.”
“Thank you.”
“Least I can do, seeing as I’m the one who told her all about your new country house.” Aragon scratched his ear. “I probably should’ve kept it to myself, eh?”
“No. I was planning on inviting her at some point.” Julian walked out of the kitchen with him.
“You are quite right that I should’ve done so earlier.
” He was almost dreading entering his own drawing room.
… Another painful thought occurred to him.
“I don’t suppose you invited the Cartwrights, did you?
” Julian asked as they paused in the open doorway.
“Well, actually …” Aragon glanced at him. “I did, but apparently they can’t leave the boys to fend for themselves even for a day.”
“Well, thank God for that. Any other surprises to spring on me?”
“No.” Aragon looked thoughtful. “Not that I can think of.” He winked at Julian and went off in Lady Brenton’s direction.
One of his footmen stopped in front of Julian. “This is for you, sir.”
“Thank you.” Julian read the note, turned on his heel, and made his way up the turret stairs to his bedchamber. He went inside, stood against the door, and briefly closed his eyes.
“Please lock the door.”
His eyes flared open. Carenza lounged on his pillows dressed only in her shift.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” he asked, his pulse beginning to pound.
She opened her eyes wide. “Waiting for you. There are two hours before dinner and your mother’s arrival. Don’t you think we should put them to good use?”
He took a deep breath. His cock was already hardening, and the urge to have her overwhelmed his good sense. He shrugged out of his coat and began ripping off his cravat as he strode toward the bed.
She helped him with his shirt and breeches and then he was on top of her. He grabbed hold of her wrists and drew them over her head.
“I’m not in the mood to be kind.”
“Good, because I’m seriously considering murdering you right at this minute.” She glared at him. “How could you invite all these people who delight in getting in our way?”
She hooked her heel around his hip, opening herself to him, and he obliged with a long, hard thrust that made her gasp and grab his shoulder.
He eased his hips back and slammed home again, and this time he didn’t stop pounding into her, the relief of the contact forcing all other considerations from his mind.
He came fast, and she barely managed to join him.
Her frown when he eased out of her was magnificent. “You selfish beast.”
He smiled as he kissed his way down over her rounded stomach and set his teeth on her clit.
“Oh …” She climaxed immediately.
He scissored two fingers inside her, raising himself up on one elbow so that he could see her flushed face as she writhed against the pillows.
She had the audacity to scowl at him, which amused him greatly.
Without removing his fingers, he leaned to one side and opened the drawer beside his bed, where he’d had the forethought to leave a bottle of oil.
He shifted his thumb until it brushed over her arsehole. “Would you like my cock here?”
“I—” Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, please, Mr. Laurent.”
“I’m not sure I like your tone.” He eased the tip of his finger inside her. “You should be more … needy, more desperate, more grateful.”
“Grateful? I’m the one who lured you up here to have your way with me.”
“But I like it when you beg.” He unstoppered the oil and applied it to his index finger. “Hands and knees, I think.”
He flipped her over, kneeling behind her, spreading her thighs wide so that she was open to him.
He slid his oiled finger in, and she shuddered and arched her hips.
He carefully added a second, giving her time to adjust to the pressure.
His cock was already hard again, but she wasn’t quite ready to take him—yet.
“More,” she gasped.
“As you wish.” Three fingers now, and he was able to move them back and forth, widening and preparing her with every subtle twist. “I wish I had a dildo to fuck you with while my cock fucks your arse, but I was not prepared.” He paused. “Perhaps you might fuck yourself?”
He watched in approval as she did exactly what he suggested, the heel of her right hand pressed tightly against her clit while her fingers pumped inside her other channel.
He oiled his cock and pressed the head against her now slick arse.
A small undulation of his hips and he was in her tight passage.
He pushed deeper, his hips now aligned with hers, his fingers drifting upward to her breasts, where her hard nipples awaited his caresses.
“Harder,” she said.
He wrapped his hand in her long hair, drawing her head back to expose her throat.
“Don’t worry. I’ll attend to you properly,” he promised. “You won’t be able to sit down comfortably tonight to eat your dinner without squirming and remembering me pounding into you so hard that you screamed.”
He suited his words to his actions, forgetting all caution to give her what she craved and what he needed, a blessed release from a chaotic day.
The need to come gathered at the base of his spine, and he redoubled his efforts, flesh slapping against flesh, his grip on her hip sure to leave a bruise—not that either of them would care.
He roared as he climaxed, and she screamed as predicted, her whole body straining back against him like a bow. He resisted the urge to flop over her like a beached whale and eased back.
“Stay there.”
His words were met with a muffled groan. He went into the dressing room, washed himself, and brought a wet cloth back to the bed. He took his time cleaning Carenza’s most intimate parts, using the roughness of the cloth to instigate another climax that made her shudder and curse his name.
He sat beside her on the bed, stroking her shoulder. Her golden hair was a wild tangle, her mouth swollen from his kisses, her cheeks ruddy. He wanted her again, but the chime of the clock reminded him that their idyll must end.
“Shall I carry you back to your own bed?” he offered.
“Only if you wish to damage your back.” Carenza opened one eye to study him. “I’m quite capable of walking.” She paused. “I think.”
“I could toss you over my shoulder like a bale of hay,” Julian suggested.
She made a face. “As if you’ve ever worked in a field.”
He lowered his shoulder, wrapped one arm around her waist, and pulled her from the bed, making her shriek with laughter. After marching straight through the dressing rooms and into her bedchamber, he deposited her on the bed.
“My lady.”
A small gasp behind him made him go still.
Carenza looked past him and smiled. “Bea, you’re early. I thought you’d be attending to Allegra first.”
Julian bowed. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
He walked out, trying hard not to smile as Carenza continued to talk to her maid as if nothing untoward had happened.
He admired her calmness as he picked up her garments and left them in her dressing room.
When he reached for his shirt he remembered Carenza hadn’t been the only one who was naked. He hoped poor Bea had closed her eyes.