Riding Crop (3 page)

She frowned. The temptation of the coin seemed
to sway her thoughts. For a woman who remained cool and collected,
she displayed a wide range of emotions on her countenance. Doubt,
confusion and wariness. He took a couple of steps
closer.

“What is your given name? Let us start
there.”

“Olivia.”

“My name is Gideon.” He took her gloved hand
and brought it to his lips. Olivia struggled to pull her hand away.
He held it firm and laid a polite kiss before he released
it.

“Are we agreed, then?”

“You ask too much.”

“I ask for trust.”

Olivia’s laugh sounded bitter. “I trust no man.
I never will.”

Gideon took another step forward. He observed
her body stiffen.

“Why not? The men who submit place their trust
in you.”

Her mouth quirked in a cynical twist. “Those
sexually corrupt men are not putting their trust with me. They are
putting their lust. All men feel at any rate.”

“
I cannot argue that fact.
Regardless, the deal is before you. Take it or leave it. Tell me
now.”

She stood before him. The top of her head
barely grazed his collarbone. Her assessing gaze had his heart
slamming against his ribcage.

“You are very unhappy,” she
whispered.

“As are you, madam. Perhaps we are fated to end
such a state together.”

Olivia stepped back and the loss of her
closeness was keenly felt.

“Very well. Five strikes are all I will agree
to. Give and take. You have a deal—Gideon.”

The sound of his name on her sensual lips
caused his prick to throb in time with his rapid
heartbeat.

“Very well, Olivia. Should I remove all my
clothes?”

She ran her crop over his exposed nipples and
he shuddered in desire.

“Only if you wish me to draw blood. Do
you?”

“I think not. However, feel free to birch me
good and proper.”

“Grab the bedpost and hold on.”

Olivia’s command sent waves of lust though his
entire body. Mixed with the lust was apprehension. He had never put
himself in this position before. It did require a good deal of
trust. He removed his shirt and tossed it to the bed. Gideon
reached for the bedpost.

The crop flicked across his back and the
agonizing sting caused air to hiss through his clenched
teeth.

“Jesus!”

****

Olivia observed the play of muscles as he
flinched from the impact of her crop. A red welt rose on his
flawless skin. It would be a sin to bloody such masculine
perfection. A tight ball of satisfaction pulled at her insides from
the strike as it always did.

“Aren’t you supposed to speak soft words of
encouragement to me?” Gideon said. “It is what I’ve observed with
others in this situation.”

“I do not play that game.”

Olivia laid the crop on the bed as Gideon
turned to face her. His dark eyes were ablaze.

“Then I was right. You do this for vengeance.
Give and take, Olivia. Tell me what happened to you.”

She never should have agreed to this. Did she
want the money so desperately she would sell her soul? There was
something about this man, beyond the handsome face and athletic
body. She recognized and felt his deep-boned unhappiness. The man
fascinated her.

She sat on the edge of the bed. Gideon stood at
her side and leaned against the bedpost. He flinched in pain.
Perhaps she did wield the crop a little too deftly.

Taking a shuddering breath, she exhaled. “Three
years ago, I came with my father to London. I was barely twenty.
Living in Hertfordshire with cows as neighbors, to say I longed for
adventure was an understatement. Against my father’s warnings, I
ventured out onto the streets alone, curious to take in all the
sights and sounds. I was cornered by two men. They dragged me into
an alley, raped, and sodomized me repeatedly. I was left beaten and
bleeding. When I managed to make my way to the inn we were staying,
my father slapped me, called me a harlot, and locked me in my
room.”

Gideon’s eyes widened then narrowed in obvious
anger. “Damn your father to hell.”

“The next morning, I awoke and found myself
alone. He left me nothing but a letter saying I was not to come
home. I was no longer his daughter. My father is a very pious man,
a vicar. He would never forgive me. I had to scrounge through the
rubbish in the streets for a crust of bread. That is where Pan
found me.”

Gideon sank to the bed next to her.

“How long have you been here?”

“Three years. I take a couple of clients a
week. The rest of the time I assist Pan in the running of this
club. I am very good with mathematical figures. I have never
contacted my father. My pride will not allow it.”

The confession seemed to lighten her burden.
This man was a stranger, yet it felt right to talk to him of such a
private matter.

He turned to face her and his hands framed her
face. His thumbs gently stroked her cheeks. Heat and flame spread
from his touch through her whole body.

“Have you ever been kissed?”

She gazed into the depths of his dark,
mesmerizing eyes. He did not mock her. His look spoke of gentle
empathy. She shook her head, as words would not form.

Gideon leaned toward her and his lips brushed
past hers in a fleeting movement. With tender compassion he showed
her how a kiss could sear one’s soul. His tongue teased the corner
of her mouth, so she let him in. Trust, a new concept. His probing
tongue tasted every part of her mouth, but he was not aggressive.
She soon followed his motions, and when Gideon groaned, a flicker
of flame ignited deep inside her heart.

He pulled back and looked at her with
amazement. His thumbs brushed her swollen, well-kissed
lips.

“Shall I make a confession? I have only kissed
a woman a few times in my life. Never had it felt so—real. Potent.
Wonderful.”

He lied, surely. However, his gaze seemed
sincere. Him? Lord Craven? Hardly kissed? Gideon continued to
stroke her plump and sensitive lips.

“My many encounters resulted in my own
gratification, no one else’s. Kissing seemed too intimate. It
appears I have missed out on an incredible experience.”

His touch sparked unknown emotions. Olivia
pulled back.

“And why have you pursued these many
encounters?”

Gideon stood, walked to the fireplace, and
absently stirred the embers.

“I no doubt came out of the womb bored. Tedium
drives my desires. I have no tale of woe. I am a spoiled and
pampered son of the aristocracy who was never told ‘no’ in the
entirety of his life.”

He walked to the bedpost and held it tight. “Go
on, again.”

Before he could utter another word, she picked
up the crop and laid it across his lower back.

****

Christ, the pain was exquisite.
Because
she did the flogging? Perhaps it the fact he was giving and not
taking for once. A raw, pleasurable ache from her strike covered
his body. He turned to face her, unbuttoned his trousers and
stepped out of them, standing before her completely naked. His cock
became as hard as an iron bar and stood straight up his belly. Her
gaze fixed on his throbbing erection.

“I want you to touch me.” His voice sounded raw
and husky to his own ears. “Please, Liv.”

“No one has ever called me by that name. I like
it,” she whispered.

She strode toward him, her shapely hips
swaying. Her hands spread on his chest. Olivia touched and caressed
his skin, explored every dip and valley of muscle. Her touch was
magical, sparking nerves under his skin he did not know he
possessed. Her hand lowered, and followed the trail of hair to his
cock. She fisted him, gripped him tight and he nearly came in her
hand. He splayed his hand on top of hers and showed her the
stroking rhythm to bring him to the edge of desire. Together they
pumped his rock hard cock. He felt his sack tighten, his insides
dipped and rolled. Gideon moaned, his breathing ragged when he
cried out with his forceful climax. Endless jets of his cum pumped
over their joined hands.

****

Olivia’s eyes widened. She had observed many
men climax during her crop ministrations. She merely saw it as a
disgusting conclusion to the act. To see Gideon with his head back
and jaw clenched stirred the simmering embers deep inside her body.
His deep-throated, raspy moans caused liquid heat to pool between
her legs. Never in all her encounters did she have such a physical
reaction to a man.

Gideon staggered, then backed up to the bed and
sat down with their hands still joined. She tried to pull away, but
he kept her hand grasping his cock. The man was unbelievable, as
his cock hardened again.

“Liv, become my mistress.”

She glanced up at his flushed face. His eyes
shone the color of polished onyx stones.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I do not know the first thing about having a
long-term mistress. I am not a man who believes in possessing
another like a fine piece of jewelry. I would agree to whatever
terms you wish.”

With great effort she pulled her hand away and
removed her soiled gloves.

“Lord Craven, this situation is going beyond
the parameters we set up. I have no intention of becoming a
possession or a mistress to any man. Besides, I hear you are very
commanding and demanding in your pleasures. I will not subject
myself to such a situation.”

Gideon stood, reached for a flannel, and
casually cleaned himself.

“Perhaps I can be as you describe. I have
proven here I am quite capable of sharing and submitting. It is
you, Liv, who are afraid of change or of feeling and
living.”

Gideon tossed the flannel to the bed next to
her gloves. He turned his back to her and grasped the
bedpost.

“Again. Go on, Liv. Exorcise your demons.
Punish me, pleasure me.”

Olivia barely gave him time to complete his
sentence before she snatched the crop and laid it low on his back.
Skin separated under her lash and a few drops of blood trickled
over his muscled buttocks. The crop fell to the floor and her hands
flew to her mouth in shock. She did not mean to draw blood. Gideon
roared in response. Shock, desire and perhaps anger laced his
growl.

She had gone too far. This entire situation,
the intimacy, the confessions, and the touching were too much for
her to handle. Whatever slim thread of control she used in these
situations, splintered apart. Hot tears ran in rivulets down her
cheeks. She had not cried since the rape and the abandonment by her
father.

Gideon turned and pulled her into his embrace.
His body was warm and reassuring. She laid her wet cheek against
his chest, and his hands smoothed her hair. No man had held her
this way before. James once put his arm around her, but she had not
been held against a man’s heart, wrapped in his masculinity or
comforted as if she were fragile and made of glass.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered.

Gideon kissed her temple and whispered words of
compassion. His gentle consideration increased the flow of her
tears. Olivia did not wail or gnash her teeth, shudder or shake.
The tears just fell.

“
I want to make love to you,
Liv.”

The words seized her breath.

“Listen to me. Before I observed you and the
judge, I watched a duke make love to his wife. The act was a
revelation to me. In all these years, I have never made love to a
woman, saw to her needs or even cared if she received any pleasure.
I had wild, selfish sex. Making love is apparently more than
thrusting one’s prick into a woman’s wetness. But I wouldn’t know
about that.”

Olivia glanced up at him. “Neither do I, my
lord.”

****

Gideon could not believe he proposed they make
love. Good Christ, he did not recognize the man who made the
suggestion. Taking the time to comfort someone felt strange.
Looking at himself through Olivia’s eyes, he truly was a debauched,
egocentric man. In this moment, he did not want to be that man any
longer. This damaged woman with her intriguing mixture of
vulnerability and iron will reached his emotions and brought them
to life.

“You haven’t had sex with anyone since the
rape, have you?”

Olivia stepped out of his embrace. She met his
gaze, her eyes still red-rimmed from tears.

“No. I don’t think I can. Not for one hundred
guineas.”

Gideon took a step toward her and touched her
flushed cheek.

“I do not ask as part of our deal. I want to
love you. You are attracted to me as I am to you.” He leaned down
and whispered in her ear. “You are wet for me. Let me touch you. We
will not have sex if you do not wish it. But let me worship your
body. At any time you wish for me to stop, say the word, and I
will. Put your trust in me as I have with you. Give and take,
Liv.”