My Lady Series Bundle (16 page)

What disturbed him the most were her eyes, he thought, as he stroked the part of his finger that could feel sensation over the creamy-smooth flesh of her cheek. Could any individual truly feint such innocence reflected through guileless eyes the color of chocolate-cinnamon?

“I am
not
, Lia! I am her twin sister, Chloe!”

Harrison reacted instinctively, grasping Lia’s wrists, piling them over her head with one hand and leaving her stretched out beneath him. He took a moment to catch his startled breath, and then he laughed. A harsh sound given the condition of his voice.

“It’s
true
,” Lia cried beneath him. Interestingly with puckered pink nipples and thrashing long lithe legs.

Fuck!
He could not deny wanting the witch. “You will have to do better than that, my little soullion,” he charged harshly.

“No, it is true! You
must
believe me,” she cried, bucking her hips upward with a healthy struggle.

Harrison rolled himself on top of her, grinding her to a shaking halt. “You will
be
silent,” he hissed. “Or I will take the whip to your ass!”

Lia heaved a shuttering breath beneath him and he glimpsed huge teardrops in the corners of her eyes before she turned her face away from him. Why did she sound so strange? An American accent? It was another trick! “If you say one more word, vixen, I will gag you again. Do you understand?” he growled.

Lia nodded her head still turned to one side and lay still beneath him yet he could feel she was trying to hold back her tears. She was playing him! He suddenly grabbed her to push her onto her stomach. She screamed, and then she choked on some more sobs as he straddled her hips.

“Give me your wrists,” he snarled, grabbing at them but she wedged her arms beneath her chest.

“But I am
not
Lia!” she wailed. “I hate Lia! Lia uses me!” Harrison practically growled in frustration until he’d gotten Lia’s wrists above her head and tied to the bedpost. “Listen to me, please! Please! We
are
twin-
n-n
. . .” Harrison pulled the red satin gag snugly across Lia’s mouth.
Thank god,
he thought, leaning back to rest on his heels over the back of Lia’s thighs as he ran an impatient hand through his disheveled shoulder length hair. He rested there, staring at the small scar on the back of Lia’s perfectly molded thigh. She was gasping on her sobs beneath the gag, twisting her wrists against the red silk binding her to the bedpost. Damnation, he’d be a limp prick fool to believe anything she said . . . Only his prick was not limp, it was raging, and his memory was relentless.

. . . That night over two years ago was purported to simply be an information gathering operation. His team the Archangels planned to break into Josephine Bonaparte’s apartment and gather what information they could find. It should have been fairly easy. Lia, playing Napoleon’s mistress, had passed along the information that Josephine had gone to the countryside for several days, if not weeks. Napoleon did not live with his estranged wife, yet he visited her there often. That and the intelligence gathered by the Archangels showed that many top Bonaparte officials courted Josephine’s favor and visited her apartment. The chances of finding something useful there were favorable.

Their leader Drummond sent three of them. Only seven people had known of the operation. The time, the date, and the place. And those seven people were, the six men of the Archangel spying team . . . and Lia.

Harrison went to those apartments with Radford and Saxonhurst. That should have been enough. Nothing would have been enough after what they met there. It had been a setup made to look like it wasn’t. Made to appear as though the servants had just gotten lucky and discovered them. Made to appear as if those servants were just defending themselves from a burglary attempt.

But he'd fought with those servants. He’d killed two of them. They were military trained. Saxonhurst thought perhaps and Radford wasn’t sure. But he knew. They had been trained. It also explained the explosion and why the chemicals had been there in the first place. It was not just simply a cache of fireworks stored for the upcoming New Year celebration, right next to the cases of pure Russian vodka in the cellar. His hands were not scarred by fire, but by acid, and his throat was not burned by the heat, but by fumes. The tremendous explosion had cost Radford one eye and Saxonhurst his hand. They were all lucky to have made it out of there alive. Interestingly, none of the servants were harmed in the explosion . . . they had all fled just before the fire ignited. Someone went to immeasurable trouble to make it look as though this was all an accidental happening . . . and he'd never disabused Drummond or the others of this notion. They all thought it could be . . . Yet no one knew except him.

He'd gone back to the charred and ruined apartments. With his hands in bandages and his throat still so burned that he was unable to speak. In the charred remains he'd found the remnants of the broken glass beaker that must have carried the acid . . . yet he had not found one piece of bottle that would carry Russian vodka . . .

“
Damn
lying, bitch,” Harrison snarled, angrily coming out of his memories.

He moved his position over Lia’s back until he could wedge her thighs open with his knees. She tried to twist away from him but there was no place for her to go and the motion drew and flexed the ivory flesh of her buttock cheeks erotically beneath his gaze. She was helpless, exposed, and spread before him as he reached his bare hand between her thighs and clasped his fingers over her fevered cunt.

Lia moaned and he laughed hoarsely, delving his fingers deep into the eddy of her feminine flesh . . . so tender and wet, until he found the pearl of her clitoris. God, it had been so long since he had touched a woman this way and he was surprised at all that his scarred hands could feel. He could feel the heat of her, the pulsing sharp throbs, and the fragile texture of her clit swelling and drawing upward. He rubbed firmly over the aroused nubbin of flesh and Lia answered with the sound of a deeply sensual mewl of longing. She lifted her ass upward to him in a purely feminine begging way.

“Lusty, rosebud,” he rasped gruffly, chasing the hardening pearl of her clitoris around with his finger. Faster, faster . . . faster.

“Aa- Aa-!”

“Yes, I know,” Harrison crooned unable to stop himself from placing mouthy hot kisses along the graceful slope of Lia’s back, as he circled his finger harder on her clit bringing her to the edge of a climax. “Beg me to let you come, Lia,” he commanded hoarsely as he loosened her gag. “
Beg
me.”

“Ah hh-! Ravenscar, please!” she cried.

“Swear to me that you will do anything I command,” he demanded.

“Ye-
Nn!
OhBuddha save me. Please!”

“
Swear
to me,” he hissed, and then abruptly he took his hand away from her trembling cunt.

“Noo! R-Ravenscar, please!” she wailed, tugging her wrists frantically against her bonds. “Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me like this!”

“Swear to me,” he hissed as he once more reached between her quivering inner thighs to cup her throbbing hot cunt into his hand. Squeezing. Dipping his fingers and wetting them in her arousal.

“Please! Please! Buddha help me, don’t do this to me!” she cried as she wriggled wantonly over his hand, spreading her knees, supplicating to him with the rise and erotic undulation of her buttocks.
“Oh!
I will do anything!”

“Swear, Rosebud,
swear,
” he snarled the command as he relentlessly tweaked her passion again with a pluck of his fingertips nipping at the thrust of her clitoris.

“Oh!”
she mewled convulsively with her entire voluptuous body shuddering. “Please! I swear! I swear!” she squealed.

“Then raise up on your knees,” he commanded roughly.

Chloe knew the act was shameful somewhere in her passion raped mind, however she could not care! She quickly crawled up onto her knees grasping the bed post as an anchor because of her wrists bound to its width. All she understood was that she would surely die if her captor, Lord Ravenscar left her unrequited again on the brink of a climax! It was torture of the cruelest measure and she knew that he would do it over and over again if she did not yield. Buddha save her worthless soul, she had always been too weak!

“You are going to do exactly everything I command of you,” Ravenscar uttered as he relentlessly toyed with her sex. Keeping her agonizingly and painfully on the edge of a wrenching orgasm. “Or I will do this to you again and again. Until you go mad. Now tell me!”

“Yes,
Ravens-scar,” she sobbed on a choked cry while anguished and passion-racked tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. “A-Anything you demand. Anything!”

“Excellent,” he rasped. “And now for your reward. Turn over, Rosebud.”

Chloe felt Ravenscar rising up behind her as his hand left her loins and she convulsed with torturous need. Then his roughly-scarred hands were there urging her onto her back. She was so shaken that she wobbled until he laid her stretched out on her back with her arms crossed over each other still tied to the bedpost. But she kept her eyes clenched tight against seeing him . . . seeing herself enslaved by him. And because she had her eyes closed, she did not know where he was positioned until she felt his long hair brushing her inner thighs making her jerk in reaction.

“Lift your legs to me,” he murmured roughly. “Up, over my shoulders.”

Sacred Buddha
, how could she? How could she be so debase? Yet she did, lifting her legs beneath his complete domination with her body shaking in perverse anticipation. This was her reward, he would love her more intimately than any man ever had.

His tongue touched her sex! “Oh!” she cried.

“Yes,
Rosebud,” he hissed. “You taste purely of heaven for such a treacherous bitch.”

Ravenscar lapped his tongue deep into the folds of her loins as she squirmed senselessly over his shoulders, but his strong hands held her outer thighs to his command. He flicked the tip of his tongue over the budding deep in her sex, making her squeal. And then he used the flat of his tongue licking deeper again, making her whimper until she was screaming his name as he flicked his tongue on her harder. The first climax followed the second simultaneously and the third came relentlessly some minutes later. In the shuddering convulsion of the third climax she lost her breath and everything went black.

Harrison gently eased Lia back down onto the mattress. God, he was shaking and he did not know if it was because he was so tightly aroused or if it was just the incredible taste and feel of Lia still lingering on him. The arousal he ignored, it was nothing new in the last two years of celibacy. More piquant . . . definitely that, he thought, as he untied Lia’s wrists from the bedpost and he laid her more comfortably on the bed. The other he passed off to exhaustion, which he was, he thought tiredly. He might even be able to sleep this evening for a few hours. To that end he considered masturbating to relieve his sexual tension, yet then decided against it once he had undressed and curled his larger body around Lia. This could just be enough.

Yes,
the contact was very soothing and warm and he was extremely pleased with his progress that night. He still expected many surprises from Lia, nevertheless essentially he had command of her. He suppressed a yawn unable to stop reflecting how exciting Lia was during her climaxes. Intoxicating, ardent, and somehow precious. In one thrilling moment she had lifted herself up to him in complete abandon crying “my one” passionately, which was a purely Asian phrasing. Could she truthfully feint an endearment in the midst of a wild and thoroughly abandon climax?

Surely,
Harrison thought drowsily, how else had she managed to capture Bonaparte’s interests so completely.

C
hloe knew he was there, she could feel every inch of his hard naked body as she came awake.
Ravenscar.
And he was aroused! His impossibly long male penis was nudged between the crevice of her behind from where he lay with his chest against her back and his arms wrapped tight around her. This left her cheek resting on the tightly swelled muscle of his shoulder as she listened to him lightly snoring.

At least he was asleep, she thought raggedly, because it would begin again soon . . . too soon. And now irrevocably she knew that she was his . . . his completely! She understood no matter how much she could pray otherwise that Ravenscar was stronger than her own determination and will. It was because his need for revenge was blindly driving him. He would never listen to the fact that she was not Lia. He would never believe that she had a son. A baby that she was so painfully terrified for. What had Lia done to Sebastian? And now that she'd not come back, had not delivered the package, what would Lia do to him?

She was so helpless here
, Chloe thought, crying silently. And she was lying next to a powerful man. A man powerful enough to stop Lia and bring Sebastian back to her. Yet he would never believe her.

“What sneaking dramas are you concocting now, Lia?” Ravenscar asked with a husky rasp from behind her.

“I-I do not care if you believe me,” Chloe cried miserably. “But I have a baby. And he is in danger.”

Ravenscar abruptly turned her onto her back and leaned over her. “You have a child? What nonsense is this?”

Chloe gazed up at him willing him impossibly to believe her. “Even if I a-am, Lia. I could have a baby,” she whispered, and then she pushed the bed linen aside so he could clearly see her breasts. “How else could I be leaking milk, if I did not have a baby?”

Ravenscar’s aristocratically-chiseled features frowned down at her, and he slowly brought one lean finger forward to touch the droplet of milk clinging to her pink nipple. Chloe trembled uncontrollably at his touch and the droplet fell free running over the rounded slope of her bare breast. Ravenscar dipped his head with his dark irises pinning hers as he lapped the droplet of mothers’ milk with his tongue, leisurely following the path up over the curve of her breast. Chloe held back her moan with every ounce of her will, wondering desperately how he could make her feel such exquisite pleasure when she should despise him.