Chapter 12 #3
She snorts, not bothering to hide her disdain.
“I am lucky if I am able to cover food and clothing with the money from the province. There were many times in the past when we have been forced to ration food in order to last until the next shipment arrives. So no, our expenses are not covered by the royal family.” Her mouth twists on the final word.
I swallow, fighting back the shame. “Forgive me, I was under the impression the orphanages in Scota were well provided for.”
“I’m sure some of them are, Your Highness.”
I nod, guilt roiling in my gut. “Point taken.”
I listen for the rest of the tour, keeping my comments and questions to myself.
Amelia does not hold back, telling me stories of the injuries the girls bore when she first arrived, and how her requests for aid are continually ignored.
Cate said things had improved since Amelia took over; I hate to think what they were like before.
Cate comes back down the stairs right as the tour is ending, as if planned.
The girls trail after her like a line of ducklings following their mother.
She wraps them in hugs before opening her bag and handing a heavy-looking sack to Amelia.
The two women have a whole conversation without exchanging a single word.
I offer a hand to Amelia. “Thank you for the tour. I will not ask for your forgiveness, but I will promise that your words have not gone unheard.”
She returns my shake with a firm one of her own. “I appreciate that, Your Highness.”
The reaction from the girls at my given title is immediate and intense.
Cate reacts quicker than I can, looping her arm through mine and tugging me toward the door. “See you next week, girls. Be good for Amelia and finish all your schoolwork!”
A chorus of groans follows us out the door.
Cate waits for me to speak as we slowly make our way across the overgrown field back to our horses.
“I do not know where to begin, my lady.” My voice is hoarse, choked with emotion.
Cate sighs. “I will not pity you for not knowing what is happening in your own province.”
“I will not ask for your pity. Or your understanding. I did not know, but I will make it my mission to be better informed in the future.”
Cate unties her horse, stroking her neck a few times, pulling an apple from her bag to feed to her before mounting. “The day is getting on, I think I will save my trip to Talia for tomorrow.”
I pat my horse, a silent apology for not having a treat to offer him. I throw my leg over the saddle. “Are things the same there? And in the other provinces?”
Any lightness bestowed upon her by the girls at the orphanage fades from her eyes. “No, they’re not.”
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“They are so much worse, Callum. Worse than you could even imagine. Here they might be short on supplies, but at least they have Amelia, who cares for them with love and kindness. The Gifted children in the other provinces are not so lucky.” A sheen of tears fills her eyes, but she doesn’t let me see them fall, kicking her horse into a gallop.
She rides hard for a long while, and I do my best to keep up with her.
Finally, she pulls back on the reins, slowing her horse’s pace.
I match mine with hers, waiting for her to speak. When she doesn’t, I venture forth. “You are good with them. The children.”
She looks over at me. “For a long time I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to have children of my own. So I gave the girls at the orphanages every bit of love I might have reserved for a child I might one day bear.”
My chest aches at the thought of Caterine cradling a bundle of a newborn in her arms. At the thought of her being denied that gift for no other reason than being who she is. “You will make a wonderful mother one day, my lady,” I say, and I mean it.
“Thank you,” she says softly. She doesn’t spur her horse back into a gallop, but she also makes no further conversation for the rest of our ride.
When we reach the stable at La Puissance, we hand off our horses to the stablehand and I wait for her to dismiss me, to tell me she never wants to see me again, that our lessons are canceled, money be damned.
Instead, she reaches for my hand, silently pulling me up the stairs to her suite of rooms. The sun is beginning to set outside, but it will still be several hours before the club opens for business.
The sound of the bustle of preparations disappears when Lady Caterine closes the door to her rooms behind us.
She leads me over to the chaise, pushing me down before she goes to the liquor cart, filling two glasses with whisky. She knocks one back before handing the other to me. I do the same.
I want to ask her what she is thinking, the need to hear her thoughts almost a physical ache inside me.
But all she does is take my empty glass from me.
It’s as if the shot has fortified her somehow, as if being in this room has reminded her who we are and why we are here.
She hasn’t changed her clothes, but it’s as though she has donned her costume and stepped out onto the stage.
She is no longer Cate, the friend beloved by a bunch of orphaned children; she is once again Lady Caterine, a courtesan desired by the faceless masses.
She leaves my empty glass on the table and then turns to face me, pulling her shirt over her head.
She is completely bare underneath. Her thumbs hook in the waistband of her trousers and those come off a second later.
I understand exactly what she is doing, the wall she is erecting in between us.
I know I should direct the conversation back to our journey.
I should want to know more about the orphanage and how she was raised and what’s happening in the other provinces, but I can’t make myself care about anything other than the woman standing before me.
I don’t think this is unintentional on her part.
She is bared fully, and I drink my fill of her.
The force of her beauty physically knocks me back.
Luckily I manage to catch myself. This new position—me leaning back, my full weight on my hands resting on the chaise—pulls at the fabric of my pants, making my bulge obvious.
Her eyes linger and my cock twitches underneath her stare.
Rather than noting the motion with triumph, she swallows thickly, walking backward until the round curve of her ass hits the bed.
She turns away from me, and I can’t help but hope she needs the moment to collect herself.
I’m desperate for some kind of sign that she is as affected by me as I am by her.
Her back still facing me, her hands begin to explore the familiar territory of her body, tracing over every inch of naked skin she can reach.
Even though I can’t see most of what she is doing, it only entices me more.
She puts me out of my misery soon enough, spinning slowly, her hands cupping her ample breasts, her fingers stroking the soft skin.
“What are you doing, Caterine?” My voice is as raspy as if I’d inhaled the smoke of a hundred fires.
“You are here to learn how to please a woman, yes?” she asks, as though the past few hours have not happened.
“Yes, my lady.” If she wants to pretend, who am I to deny her?
“So what better way than to watch a woman please herself?”
I choke on the air in my lungs. “I’m going to watch you…” I can’t even say the words, the mental image alone enough to cause a tightening in my groin.
“Touch myself.” The glint in Caterine’s eyes lets me know she knows exactly what she’s doing. And she’s going to enjoy every minute of watching me suffer. Might even get off on it.
For some reason I don’t hate that thought.
Her hands don’t stop moving, her fingers pinching her peaked, pink nipples. The sight causes my hand to jump automatically to my cock. I’m aching for relief, but I’m still aware enough to know I can’t find it—not yet anyway. Still, I press my palm against my stiffness, hoping to ease the ache.
It helps a little. At least until Caterine climbs onto the edge of the bed, spreading her legs before me.
I can’t fight off the groan this time.
She is gorgeous and glistening, and the smell of her arousal is intoxicating. I want to close my mouth over her, drink in the scent and taste of her. I have to grip the edge of the chaise to keep from lunging across the room and burying my head between her thighs.
She lets her fingers dance along the edges of her pussy, her breath catching as she comes closer and closer to her folds. I watch her chest rise and fall in stilted breaths and it becomes clear that none of this is for show.
It might have started out that way, but she is aroused. Touching herself for me is arousing her.
Just the thought makes my balls tighten.
“Fuck, Caterine,” I mumble, barely coherent.
“What was that, Your Highness?” She’s as breathless as I am.
“Touch yourself,” I growl. “At least one of us should be able to find release.”
I half expect her to fight me, but instead her fingers find the swollen bud at the top of her pussy. She strokes lightly, like she is holding herself back.
We both breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Teach me, Caterine.”
“What?” She gasps as her fingers dip into her channel before returning to the center of her pleasure.
“Isn’t that why we’re here? For you to teach me how to give pleasure? Tell me what to do.” It feels good to be the one pushing her buttons for once. I revel in it, watching her war within herself, wanting to find pleasure while also not wanting to let me win.
Her hand stills and her eyes fall closed. I would give anything to hear her internal debate at this moment.
But when her golden eyes pop back open, she is determined and in control. Her power is one of the most sexual things I’ve ever seen.
“If you take nothing else away from these lessons, Callum Reid, let it be this.” Her fingers resume their stroking. “This is the clitoris, and it is the center of a woman’s pleasure.”
“How should I touch a woman there, my lady?” I ask, as if I haven’t been dreaming of stroking her there in every moment of my dreams, both sleeping and awake.
She stifles a groan. “Every woman is different.”
“How do you like it, Caterine?”
“Soft at first.” Her hips move, undulating beneath her as if searching for something. “Then harder, and with more pressure.”
“Mmmm.” The sound is the only acknowledgment I can muster. I dig the heel of my hand harder into my crotch, focus on the bite of pain, letting it ground me.
“When you use your tongue on a woman, start with gently licking her, swirl your tongue around the bud.” Caterine’s head falls to one shoulder, like she isn’t capable of holding it up.
“Can I suck on it?”
“Yes.” She slides two fingers inside herself, letting out a moan that almost makes me come in my pants. She brings her other hand north, rubbing while she fucks herself.
It’s the single most devastating thing I’ve ever seen.
She closes her eyes, head falling back as her pace increases.
“Are you going to make yourself come, my lady?”
“Yes, yes,” she gasps.
“Do it. Let me see you come.”
She cries out a second later, her hips continuing to move as she rides the wave of her orgasm.
I fight with everything in me to keep from coming with her. The image of Lady Caterine bringing herself to orgasm will be forever imprinted on my mind, and I know it will be what I see when I close my eyes tonight and every night for a long time after.
She slips her fingers from her channel and before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet, taking her hand in mine, guiding her fingers to my mouth.
She doesn’t stop me.
Pupils wide, she watches as I lick the taste of her from her skin. I swirl my tongue over the pads of her fingers before releasing them.
For a full minute there is nothing but the sounds of our ragged breaths.
“Can I touch you, Callum?” Her eyes drift down to the bulge in my pants. “Please?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, my lady.”
Her eyes meet mine. “You say you want to build trust, Your Highness. You must trust me as well. I give you my word that I will never manipulate your emotions without your consent.”
“It isn’t just that, Caterine.” I lean against the bed, grasping a post to keep myself upright. “If I never know the wonder of you, it might make it easier to walk away.”
Her eyes soften and she reaches for the waistband of my pants, slow enough so I have plenty of time to stop her. “Relieve yourself, then.” She pops the button but doesn’t move to release me from the bonds of the fabric.
But I do it myself. I free my cock, watching her reaction as it bobs against my belly.
She watches me with wide eyes, her tongue darting out, touching the corner of her lips.
I close my eyes and my hand wraps around my shaft, pumping slowly. My eyes flutter open when I hear her breath stuttering in her chest. Her pupils are wide, her gaze locked on my dick.
“What are you thinking, my lady?”
“I’m thinking how amazing your cock would feel inside me, with you thrusting so slowly I could feel every magnificent inch of you.”
“Bloody hell, Caterine. If I buried myself inside you I might not ever come out.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Promise?”
I choke on my laugh. It gets caught in my throat when her fingers once again begin to stroke that center of her pleasure.
“Watching you is turning me on, Your Highness.”
“Watching you is going to make me come, my lady.”
She wraps her calf around my hip, bringing me closer. Inches separate our bodies, the only place we are touching the press of her leg. My eyes drift from her frantic fingers up to the swell of her chest, heaving with stuttered breaths.
The orgasm builds low in my stomach, my balls painfully tight.
“Fuck, Caterine, I’m going to come.” I move to pull away from her, but her leg traps me in place.
My release spurts across her stomach. I wring every bit of pleasure from my aching cock, and the groan that escapes me is so long and low that it borders on embarrassing.
“Callum,” she whispers as a second release takes hold of her.
And it does something to me, the sound of her breathing my name as she comes. I pull away from her before she can say anything else.