A Riding Crop for Two (2 page)

The frosty, imperious
mask he usually showed the world was absent. He strode toward her and dropped
to his knees in front of her.

“Forgive me?” His deep
voice quavered.

Under closer scrutiny
she could see his eyes were bloodshot and dark circles visible. He had not
slept, and he’d been drinking. The odor of stale cigar smoke and strong spirits
mixed with his own alluring scent.

She cupped his face. The
rough feel of his whiskers tickled her fingers.

“Where did you go, why
did you leave me?”

He leaned into her
touch. “There are so many things I want.”

Her thumbs stroked his
cheeks. “Like what, Gideon?”

He looked up at her. “I
want you on your hands and knees with me pounding my cock deep inside you until
you beg for more. I want to tie your wrists to the bedpost, throw your legs
over my shoulders, spread you wide and lick and taste you until you scream. But
most of all, I want to make passionate love to you. Kiss and caress every inch
of your skin. Hold you in my arms all night. Long, slow, agonizing strokes
until we cannot bear it any longer. How could I ask this of you? Your past
precludes any possibility of sex.”

Olivia sighed. “Gideon.
I was brutally raped by two disgusting men. Abandoned by my father and left
alone in the streets without coin or a roof over my head. I survived. I came
with you because you are the one man who can help me forget what happened to me
three years ago. I trust you. I can’t explain why, we only just met, but I do.
You said we would share it all. Please, let us try.”

The kiss he gave her at
that moment was poignant, but also untamed and passionate. She gasped as he
scooped her up in his arms, and then stood.

“Gideon!”

“Hush, sweet. Get the
door, will you? Can you reach?”

Olivia leaned down and
turned the handle. Gideon stepped into the hall and headed toward the stairs.

“Hobson!
We are not to be disturbed!”

Chapter Two

Gideon carried his
precious cargo into his room. He’d taken the stairs two at time. The desire to
be alone with her banished all propriety and rational thought. The fact she had
forgiven him for his stupid and asinine behavior stunned him.
 
He lowered her until her dainty feet touched
the floor; he closed the door behind them.

Liv
moved in a circle, taking in the room. She smiled.

“Masculine and sturdy,
much like you.”

He did not feel
particularly sturdy at the moment.
Liv
had spent the
past three nights in the guest room down the hall. He’d instructed Hobson to
place her there. He didn’t want her in his room, his private place—until now.
He removed his coat, and she stepped forward to assist him.

“I should shave, perform
my ablutions. I am a damned mess,” he murmured.

Liv
laid his coat on the nearby leather settee. “I don’t
know. I quite like seeing you disheveled and out of control. You did not answer
my question. Where have you been?”

He took her hand, and
they sat on the edge of the bed. His thumb stroked the top of it, her skin soft
to the touch. How to explain? Sentiment was not something he had experienced in
his life, yet it rose in him as a rising tide. His emotional vow to her that
night at The Riding Crop held deeper meaning now more than ever. He also
pledged to tell the truth. Share.
Everything.

“My club.
I drank for three days straight, rarely slept or ate.
Even smoked a couple of cigars and I abhor the things. I am ... am not used to
the emotions you have swirled up inside of me. I needed to try to sort through
them.”

“And have you?” she
whispered.

“Yes. I believe so. I
want you.
In all ways.”
He meant emotionally as well,
but at this moment found it hard to put into words.

She leaned in and laid a
gentle kiss on his cheek. “You mean in all the ways you mentioned downstairs?”

“God, yes.
Where shall we begin?”

Liv
stood and left the room for a moment. He unbuttoned
his shirt and removed it along with the neck-cloth. He had begun to struggle
with his boots when she sauntered in, closing the door behind her. She wore the
sheer coral peignoir with the matching coral and gold corset that she’d worn
their night together at The Riding Crop. His cock hardened into sword steel.
She held the riding crop, tapping it softly in her palm.

He stood and kicked off
his boots. She circled him like a lioness scenting her prey.
 
The crop ran up the length of his erection,
and he shuddered with desire from the sensation.

“This is all I know.
How to tease, to inflame a man’s passions until I strike him.
I receive gratification, but it is not sexual in nature. Do you receive sexual
pleasure?”

“Hell, yes. Not sure
why. Perhaps the reason is that it’s you wielding the crop?” he replied.

Without warning, she
flicked the crop across his shoulders.
Fuck.
A wave of fiery, sensual satisfaction covered him like a rogue wave. A low,
ragged groan left his throat. His prick throbbed in his trousers, straining to
be free.

“Again?” she teased.

“Absolutely.
However, do not draw blood as you did three nights
ago.”

Her finger traced the
thin line on his lower back. “I am so sorry for this. Will it leave a scar?”

“Christ, I hope so. I
like that you marked me. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Liv
leaned down and kissed the scabbed cut. “No.
Never again.
Only pleasure.”

He gripped the bedpost
tight, and his body shook in anticipation for the next blow and the next.
Liv
was quite skilled, knew just how much to snap her wrist
in a tantalizing way to cause absolute gratification with every sting. Ceding
control to her felt so right. In all his debauched adventures, he never gave up
his command before. Another thwack hit him in the middle of his back, and his
heart pounded in absolute joy. Another stinging strike and he moaned loudly.
She tapped him on his trouser-clad ass playfully. Gideon whirled around to face
her, snatched the crop and tossed it on the bed.

She gazed up at him in
genuine puzzlement. “I have no idea what to do next.”

He cupped her face, his
thumbs stroking her flushed cheeks. “Then allow me to show you. You will place
your trust with me?”

“Yes, Gideon.”

God.
He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against
hers. “I know how to fuck, believe me, I want to do that with you. But what I
want most of all is to make love to you.”

“Long, slow, agonizing
strokes?” she whispered.

“Yes. I remember at the
brothel you told me you would not have sex with me, not for one hundred
guineas. You did, however, let me bring you to a climax. Can you go further?
Will you allow me to enter your body and join us as one? I want that, above all
things.”

Liv
reached up and stroked his whiskered cheek. “I do
trust you, Gideon. I want you so desperately. I will try. If I do hesitate,
please know it is not you.”

He took her hand and
kissed the palm. “We can fight this together. Damn it all,
Liv
,
we can fight anything.”

“Then take me to your
bed and make love to me.”

****

Olivia spoke the truth.
A niggling stab of anxiety pulled at her insides, but she pushed it away. The
time had come to banish the horrible memories of her brutal rape and the rejection
of her vicar father. A young, impressionable country girl in
London
for the first time in her life, she’d
been anxious to explore, to find adventure. Defying her father’s express
wishes, she’d decided to take a walk on the streets near the rooming house they
were staying in.
Stupid,
silly girl.
She had not ventured a few blocks when two drunken
ruffians dragged her into an alley and changed her life forever.

She wanted so much more
from life than taking revenge on depraved men at a brothel. Her girlish dreams
were once filled with images of a handsome prince riding up on a noble steed to
carry her away.
 
Those fanciful and
hopeful images were banished the night of her rape. When she turned to the one
man in her life for support, he rejected her, implied she’d asked for it with
her wanton ways and disobedience by venturing outside
London
’s streets against his wishes.
Her own
father.
Granted, he was always pious and stern, but she believed he had cared in his
way.

She had not seen him
since. How a man who, when she was a small girl, claimed to love her could turn
on her in such a manner—broke her heart.

She would not think of
her father tonight.

Gideon stood and
unfastened his trousers. He pushed them down and kicked them aside. His naked
body was a visual feast of masculine perfection and carved lean muscles. His
erection stood proud against his flat abdomen.
Beautiful.
There was no other word to describe him. In their very brief relationship, she
innately understood that Gideon was not a perfect man.
 
Neither could she be considered faultless.
Both carried a lot of hurt and rejection. Glancing at the potent masculinity
before her, she wondered who had discarded Gideon in his past. Underneath his
cold exterior, she knew a man of deep feeling resided. No, he was not perfect,
but as her lingering gaze roamed over his stunning body, he was a close to
ideal as one could become.

Gideon reached for her
hands and placed them above his heart. She stood and faced him. Her hands
spread flat on his muscled chest. Fingertips explored through the light dusting
of black, curly hair over to his nipples. She caressed them into hard peaks,
and then leaned down to suckle them. A low, rumbling growl left Gideon’s chest.
His large hand clasped the back of her head, holding her in place.

Heavens, he enjoyed it.
How would it feel to have him do the same to her?
A dart of
desire arrowed between her thighs at the thought.

Gideon suddenly cupped
her face and tilted her head to look at him. His intense gaze sent her heart
fluttering. How did she ever think this man cold and indifferent? His dark eyes
sparkled and shone, as if black flame danced in his irises. Their gazes locked.

“I cannot believe this
is happening to me...” Gideon whispered.

“What?”

He rested his forehead
against hers, his thumbs caressing her cheeks.

“I have done many
things. I tried just about everything carnal to feel—something.”

“I have heard the
stories of the scandalous Lord Craven.
His incredible
stamina.
His incredible cock.
Man or woman, two
or three at a time, it was no matter.”

Gideon sucked in a
breath and exhaled. “I have fucked a few men. During a frenzied, alcohol and
opium-fueled orgy, one
arse
is the same as the next.
I really did not care. I never allowed my own to be breached.”

“Always in control,” she
stated.

“Yes.
Control.
I reveled in it. When I am with you, I happily cede it to you, my sweet.”

Olivia pulled back and
stared up at him. “While we are together, Gideon, I do not wish to share you.
Perhaps it is selfish, but I...”

His kiss devastated her.
His tongue plunged deep, tasting, licking, and swirling every inch of her
mouth. He moaned. So did
she
. For a man who claimed he
had never kissed during his assignations, he certainly was skilled.

Gideon ended the kiss.
His fingers roamed through her hair. Grabbing a fistful, he pulled her head
back so she had no choice but to stare up at him.

“Never.
No one is welcome in what we share,” he said
vehemently. “I am at heart a selfish man, greedy even. I have never felt like
this before. I want to possess you, claim you—love you in a way I did not think
I was capable. I will never share.
Never.”

“I agree.”

His fervent words sent a
thrill of desire through her whole body.
Love?
Could
it be possible?

He kissed her hard and
brief, then moved behind her and slowly removed the corset and peignoir, laying
hot, insistent kisses on every inch of exposed skin.

His large hands
traversed her naked body, leaving a trail of sizzling flame in its wake.

“God, I want to taste
you.”