Authors: Chanse Lowell
She was burning up. “I may have to fetch a physician for you.”
“No, that’s unnecessary.” She gripped his wrist as he kept attending to her face, attempting to cool her down.
She gave some semblance of a smile, but he could tell she was exhausted, so he did not say anything to her.
He opened her blouse enough so he could moisten her upper chest.
“You have the most decadent bed ever, William,” she whispered, her eyes soft.
“Hush now. You’re delirious from the fever,” he told her.
“No—I am delirious from being near
you
.” She nuzzled her nose into his hand that was back at her cheeks. She took a deep inhale, and his groin tightened like it always did from the simple little appreciative thready noises she made at the back of her throat. “You smell heavenly as usual. How do you smell this good? Miller stank like you would not believe. Lying in his bed was torture.”
His jaw tensed, and his teeth ground together.
“My hair smelled like you for days after lying in your bed with you last time.” Her chest bounced as she stifled back a sob. “For days, I had your scent on me and it about killed me.”
His heart raced furiously. “Tomorrow I will wash you—I’ll get his scent off you. I promise, love.”
“But how? The floating baths do not have free day for women for another week and a half,” she said, her head barely able to shake from side to side. “And I do not think I could stand to be in that cold river water right now.”
He chuckled softly. “Dear lady, I will not take you there or make you wait. You’ll use my hot bath.”
“Hot? How is it hot?” Her lids closed slowly, and her voice barely carried.
“You will see. Now, sleep, darling. I will make you comfortable and keep watch over you all night.”
When she was nearly asleep, he managed to remove all of her clothing, his, too, and he snuggled into bed with her, taking care to keep her temperature constant all night.
The feel of her in his arms—my God. He was almost levitating up to the clouds. It was better than Heaven.
It was some place no man had ever traversed.
Only . . . she smelled like the swine that had been on top of her.
He pulled his nose away from her hair, took all the pins out, fanned her locks over his pillow, then whispered, “Mine! I have found what is
mine
.”
* * *
Not once did he sleep or let her out of his grip.
She would leave, even if she had to crawl out on her belly. He knew this without a doubt.
This woman’s pride was thicker than her blood.
She was still sleeping, and he was still naked and wrapped around her.
He could hear servants bustling around in the hallway, so he made sure they were both decent with the blankets covering them up to their neck.
Mrs. Garrity poked her head in. “Breakfast, sir?”
“Yes. Leave it on the bureau over there, and bring double the usual amount. She needs her strength.”
She nodded, set it where he told her to, curtsied and then exited.
Cherry girl made a soft moaning sound in her sleep, and he fought off a groan as his cock continued to throb behind her.
He kept his hips away from her, but now . . .
God, maybe just a little rub?
He snuggled in closer, getting more comfortable.
He’d been in such an awkward pose, trying to keep his erection off her.
She was warm now, and so soft and lovely.
Most of the night she alternated between feeling icy to the touch and on fire. He was relieved her temperature felt normal.
He ground the tip along her right ass cheek.
Another soft moan from her, and he couldn’t resist any further.
His fingers drifted from her silky smooth tummy and up to her breasts.
He tickled his fingertips along the lower swells of them.
His lips whispered across her shoulder. “Oh, sweet Cherry girl—how I’ve missed you. It’s been torture,” he whispered.
His cock agreed as it grew harder.
She stirred, and he froze.
Oh dear God—he’d promised, and he was touching her without her consent.
He groaned and put his hands in a more innocent spot.
His hips tipped back to where they had been before.
“William? How did I . . . How did I get here?” Her voice was thick with sleep, and she blinked several times.
“I brought you here. Don’t you recall?”
“No. How did you even find me?”
He exhaled. “I went to your old residence, and Leo—”
“Oh God, no! Miller! He tried to—”
“But he didn’t. I didn’t let him,” William said, grinning at the memory of smashing that man in the cock, ribs and then in the face.
The pig was lucky that was all William had done to him.
Truly, he was beyond lucky he still had his manhood attached at all. William would have gladly removed each piece for him with a fork and butter knife.
She flopped over on her side to face him and then she gasped when she saw his naked chest. “We’re nude!”
“Yes, we are.” He smirked.
“But did we . . . Did you . . . ?” Her blue eyes were filled with shame.
“No, ma petite. We did not. You were unwell, and I promised to be a gentleman.” He grinned even harder.
“Gentleman in bed with me with no clothes on?” She fought off a smile.
“Yes, ma’am, that was precisely what I did. I kept your temperature even, and I also guaranteed you would not run off in the night since your clothes were taken away. I had them incinerated last night.”
She choked on an inhale. “But what shall I wear then?”
“Clothing of my choosing for you. I had Samuel grab a few of the items I had already purchased for you, in hopes you would one day return to me.” He leaned in and rubbed noses with her. “You, little minx, have haunted me incessantly for what felt like weeks on end now.”
“I have not.” She pulled back, cupping her breasts with her hands so he would not see them. “I haunt no one.”
“You do me.” He grabbed one of her hands and cupped it over his hard length. “You do. You damn well do.”
She gripped him harder, rather than pull her hand away. “Ever the naughty little boy.” She chuckled.
“Always. There’s never a day I’m fully good. That is something you must teach me.”
“Later. I must go in search of normal clothing,” she said, yawning and then finally releasing his cock.
He groaned and scooted closer. “Just a little more touching first.” He pulled her into him, nipped at her neck and then rolled on top of her, nudging his cock between her thighs with his hips rocking side to side.
“Breakfast,” Mrs. Garrity called out from the hallway.
William grunted and rolled back off Clarissa, then laid at her side like a gentleman—well, not that, really—but like a man being respectful would do.
“Enter,” he replied loud enough his housekeeper would hear.
She stepped inside, keeping her head down, and Clarissa disappeared under the thick quilting.
He grabbed her arm underneath to still her.
“Did you bring Miss Stone some coffee as well?” he asked Garrity.
“Yes, sir.” Mrs. Garrity curtsied with her eyes still cast down to avoid embarrassing Clarissa and then she took her leave.
“You see? There is nothing to fear. She knows how to handle such things,” William told his cherry girl.
When he reached for her, she was up and out of the bed, pacing before him, covering her breasts with one arm and her other hand was over her puss.
He smirked. Damnation, she was adorable.
“She knows how to handle such things because she thinks I am like all the other women you have brought here and bedded!” Her hands flung in the air, and then she leaned over, scrounged up his clothing and shrugged into his shirt.
“Those will not fit you, and just so you’re aware—I never fucked any of them in my bed. Always outside on the grounds, in my motorcar or in their bed or a hotel somewhere.”
“Oh, yes, that makes it so much more palatable. You may find this amusing, but I, sir, do not!” Her jaw tensed.
She slipped his pants on and fastened them, but they fell right off her.
He stifled a rolling laugh.
She bent over, pulled them back up and held them in place with her hands as she went in search of some suspenders.
A moment later as she rummaged through his bureau and ignored the wonderful, tantalizing food right before her face sitting on top, she pulled out a whip and froze.
“Want to try it out? I’m very good with it. Feels amazing,” he said.
She dropped it and turned as if on a hinge, glaring at him. “You would whip me for fun?”
“For your fun, too. It’s erotic—it’s pleasurable—like me.” His eyebrows bounced.
“I hate this!” She picked up the whip and threw it at him.
It landed with a thud right in front of him, near the foot of the mattress.
He got out of bed, picked it up and stalked over to her as she continued to ransack his drawers.
She pulled out some suspenders and tried to fit them onto his trousers she was drowning in.
“Come here.” He circled the whip around her waist and then nuzzled his nose into her hair. Gad—she still smelled like that horrid man. “Let me feel you for a moment before we go wash.”
“I will not wash with you!”
“You will, and you will enjoy it. I shall wash you like I promised last night when you said how much you loved smelling like me for days on end.”
She gasped and went rigid in his arms. He took that opportunity to run the tip of his nose and lips down her hairline. He nipped at her jaw.
“I did not say that,” she whimpered.
“You did, ma chérie. I loved hearing it. You have no idea what it did to me.” He rubbed his erection on her hip and ground into her as he took her in his arms and turned her toward him.
Before she could protest, his mouth was on hers.
A flood of heat ran rampant through him and he lost all sense as he turned her once more, still in his arms and backed her over to the bed.
“
Ne vous battez pas contre moi
,” he whispered, his lips brushing across hers once more. “
J’ai besoin de vous. Ne voyez-vous pas à quel point je meurs pour vous? Prenez ce qui vous appartient. Je vous donne tout ce que j’ai—tout ce que je suis. S’il vous plait, juste laisser moi vous toucher encore une fois.
”
With a languid kiss and a reverberating moan emanating out of his belly, he lowered her to the bed and dragged his body over hers.
“Puuuu-leeeez,” she said with a tight, vibrating moan, her head tipping back.
He sucked at her throat, marking her harder than he had last time at her nape.
Her legs wrapped around him, and he growled at the feel of his trousers she was wearing rubbing on his legs.
“Damned woman—putting on clothes. You infuriate me.” He spread her arms out wide, told her to keep them there and then he proceeded to rip the shirt off her—buttons flying around the room.
He tossed it aside and did the same to his trousers she wore.
“Those were . . . Did they cost a lot?” she asked with a soft voice. Did she feel bad that money was being wasted?
He almost laughed, but then he remembered what her old home had looked like when he’d barreled into Leo’s apartment to save her from Miller. It was sparsely furnished, tiny and the walls looked like they were about to fall apart.
“I don’t give a damn if I have to take you to Paris to replace them.” He stared in her eyes.
“P-p-paris?” Her voice trembled, and her legs automatically bent. Her feet pushed flat with her heels up against her ass as he settled between her legs.
“Yes, fucking Paris. I will take you there as soon as you quit balking about how much everything costs and quit fucking running away from me. I can’t take it anymore. You belong here with me.”
“As your French whore?” She dropped her head and looked at him with that defiant glower.
He surged forward, filling her up with his girth. “No—not that. You are the woman that I will do anything for. Stop with all the self-deprecating comments. I hate it when you do that. And I will no longer allow it. No more talk like that.”
He pumped inside her gently at first. She wrapped her arms around him.
“Why should I stop being honest? It is all I have now. I have no employ, no place to live, no family, except Leo, if he’ll even see me now after what we did to Miller.”
“What
I
did to Miller. I’m the one that smashed his fucking face in.” He gripped her jaw, forcing her to look straight in his eyes. “I take full responsibility for all of it.” He kissed her roughly. She opened her mouth to his, sighing like she was relieved to finally have this connection again. “I am the one that had you evicted.”