Seducing the Master (An Erotic Historical in the Red Chrysanthemum Series) (29 page)

Her cunnie had never been this wet, and his cock
slid with ease into her. Wanting all of him, she wriggled herself
as far down his shaft as she could till the hairs at her mound
touched his. With her cunnie, she caressed the prize inside of
her.

“
My God,” he breathed upon her
brow.

They each remained still. Perhaps he needed a moment
to compose himself. Or perhaps he wanted to relish, as she did, the
sensation of their bodies joined in perfect harmony, fitting
together as nature intended. His cock throbbed inside of her,
sending shivers to her head. She no longer cared if she spent. That
he was buried deep inside of her was gratification enough. This
narrow alley, the space she occupied between him and the wall, was
like a small piece of heaven.

He flexed his cock, stirring her arousal. She
responded by clenching her cunnie. He gasped, and his breath grew
tremulous. Her arms now rested upon his shoulders, and she wound
her fingers into his soft hair. In the dark, she found his
gaze.

“
Thank you,” she
whispered.

He groaned. Holding on to her
legs, he drew his hips back, then pushed himself into her once
more. Pleasure boiled inside her hot, wet cunnie. She grasped his
member as if famished, as if his cock had not been inside of her
less than an hour before. He could have pounded himself into her,
and she would not have protested, but he took his time and found a
rhythm and an angle that elicited from her the loudest gasps and
most desperate moans.

She could have remained passive and allowed him to
make the majority of the effort. He was strong enough. But she
wanted to perspire as he perspired, pant as he panted. The muscles
in her thighs began to burn. As if sensing this, he propped her
more fully against the wall. She braced her upper back into the
wall to provide him resistance so that he could thrust into her
deeply. She wanted him to spend, but her own ecstasy beckoned, and
she could not resist its call for long. The pressure. The
pleasure.

“
Permission to spend,” she
gasped.

His pace quickened, every thrust pushing that
exquisite agitation closer and closer to its peak. Containing the
tension now became more difficult than the attainment of the
climax.

“
Permission to spend,” she huffed.
“Master Gallant—”

His hands tightened upon her legs, and he shoved his
hips at her quick and furious. If he ground her into the wall with
his force, she did not feel it. She knew only that her body was on
the verge of imploding and exploding all at once.

Through her cries, she heard him grunt.
“Granted.”

She had already begun to spend and cared not if he
knew or approved. The most rapturous tremors racked her body. She
jerked and seized against the wall, against his body. He engulfed
her wails with his mouth, perhaps fearing she would wake the
tenants of the building against which they fornicated. Pulling her
hips into him, he pumped himself into her till his own feral growl
threatened to match her cries in volume. He bucked against her
several more times before his body trembled and shook. She felt his
liquid heat mingling with her own.

After a haggard breath and a final
shiver, he eased himself from her and set her gently upon her feet.
He leaned against the wall over her as if to shelter her from the
night. She heard nothing above the beating of her heart and their
labored breathing. The moist evidence of their congress clung upon
her thighs, and she reveled in every part of the moment, from his
nearness to the lightness of being emanating from deep within her.
If she could extend the moment into eternity, she would have done
so.

“
Does this mean you forgive me?”
she asked when she had collected her breath. As soon as she spoke,
she worried what the answer might be. Men could have the quickest
changes of heart after spending.

“
Do you forgive me?” he
returned.

Astounded, she looked up at him, searching for his
eyes. “For what purpose need I forgive you?”

“
I tore your shirt.”

“
I deserved worse.”

“
No,” he said sternly.

He straightened and replaced his fall. She
immediately missed his nearness.

“
How did you come by such
scars?”

She looked away, preferring not to recall he had
seen them, and gave a dismissive shrug. “I was born a slave.”

“
And what, in God’s name, could
occasion such atrocity?”

He spoke with anger, and she had no wish to vex him
further. Nor did she desire to revisit the more painful years of
her life.

“
I am not the only slave to bear
such marks,” she replied, and decided she ought to return to the
Inn.

He stayed her. “Upon women? Surely you do not
suggest this is common?”

“
I consider myself one of the
fortunate ones, Master Gallant.”

His grasp upon her arm tightened. “What do you
mean?”

“
You’ve no wish to know, and I’ve
no wish to recount the horrors of Barbados.”

At that, he had no choice but to press her no
further. He dropped her arm. However, she sensed his reluctance to
leave the subject, and proceeded to walk from the alley out onto
the street before he found a way around her objections. Hearing his
footsteps and his horse behind her, she paused.

“
There is no night watch about
these parts,” he explained. “I will see you safely
returned.”

She smiled to herself at his chivalry.

“
That is kind of you, Master
Gallant.”

He placed his cloak about her shoulders and led his
horse by the reins. She felt the fine fabric of his garment and
pulled it tighter about herself, though not for warmth.

“
I will replace your shirt,” he
said after they had walked a block in silence.

“
I prefer a different manner of
repayment.”

He stopped. “Miss Terrell, what transpired tonight
ought not occur again.”

“
Do you still intend to have me
thrown from the Red Chrysanthemum?”

“
Have I not forgiven
you?”

She took a relieved breath, for he
had not affirmed in words that he had.

“
But do not suppose,” he added,
“that I am always inclined to forgiveness. Do not cross me
twice.”

“
Yes, Master. I am grateful for
your mercy.”

“
Do not patronize me, Miss
Terrell.”

“
Will you discipline me for
it?”

“
Miss Terrell, there can be
nothing between us. You are spoken for by Sir Arthur, and he is not
a man I wish to vex.”

“
No?”

“
Sir Arthur and I must deal with
each other in other capacities. I am in the midst of seeking the
burgess for Porter’s Hill. If I should be so fortunate to win
election, he and I will be colleagues in Parliament.”

“
Ah.” She now comprehended his
reluctance to upset Sir Arthur. Her vanity felt uplifted by this
knowledge. “Sir Arthur owns a good deal of Porter’s Hill, does he
not?”

“
How do you know this?”

“
He boasted of it.”

“
We both of us could benefit from
Sir Arthur’s good graces. Thus, it would be far better if I simply
replaced your shirt and nothing more.”

“
I did not intend to ask for more
of your cock if that is what worries you.”

He started.

“
At present, I merely wish to be
your assistant once more in your next lesson with Miss
Katherine.”

“
That would not be
wise.”

“
Why not? She is ready for much
more, if you can make proper use of me. I think she is near to what
Lord Wendlesson desires.”

“
Unlikely. We have had but three
lessons.”

“
She has advanced quite far in
three lessons.”

“
Yes, but consider that she
started with pure trepidation. She is still
apprehensive.”

“
But she trusts you. Do not
underestimate the value your presence and guidance provides
her.”

He was quiet, then said, “She hardly knows me.”

“
One does not require a great deal
of time to know you, Master Gallant,” she replied
softly.

“
Says a woman who thought I would
be interested in assuming the role of a submissive to
her.”

She grinned. “Are you certain you do not?”

“
How fares your backside, Miss
Terrell?” he returned.

She grinned. “It be a bit tender still.”

“
There is a poultice—”

“
I know of it.”

Though she would have been happy to have him apply
it to her smarting buttocks, she would not stay him longer.

“
How do you know Miss Katherine is
ready for much more?”

“
The intuition of our sex. She
finds comfort in my presence as well.”

“
Yes, how did you manage to form
such a bond with her so quickly?”

“
Because I knew her fears as only
a woman could. I could continue to be of service to Miss
Katherine.”

“
And Lord Wendlesson?”

Was that a dash of jealousy she heard in his
tone?

“
If you make sufficient progress
with Miss Katherine, he will not require me,” she
replied.

He seemed little satisfied. “And if I do not?”

“
That is not an affair you need
concern yourself with.”

“
I hope he compensated you a
pretty penny.”

She thought she saw the muscle along his jaw ripple.
“I charged him a full guinea.”

His brows shot up.

“
But I think for you, Master
Gallant, I shall always like to give of myself gratis. But that is
to be a secret betwixt the two of us, eh?”

They had reached the Inn. She removed the cloak and
handed it to him.

“
Grant me time with Miss Katherine
tomorrow night,” she said. “I will ascertain if she is indeed ready
for more. If I am wrong, you may dispense of my
services.”

“
Why do you wish to lend your time
to this cause?”

“
You do not trust that I act out
of charity?”

“
I do not.”

“
If I am right, perhaps I redeem a
little of myself in your eyes. If I am wrong, perhaps I will find
myself another guinea richer.”

He bristled, and she could see he regretted asking
his question.

“
Good night, Master Gallant,” she
said as she went up the front steps.

“
Good night, Miss Terrell,” he
said.

Baxter opened the door, and if he was surprised to
see Master Gallant again, he showed no evidence of it.

“
Miss Terrell,” he
greeted.

She entered without looking back. Baxter was a
seasoned servant at the Red Chrysanthemum and was never known to
gossip. But she thought she had glimpsed a shadow in one of the
windows as she and Gallant had approached the Inn.

“
One suitor not enough for
you?”

Terrell turned into the hallway to
find Sophia smirking, her arms crossed over her bosom.

“
Alas, it would seem he is not as
endowed in the purse as Sir Arthur,” Terrell replied.

“
But far tastier. I wouldn’t mind
a bite of that one meself.”

Terrell stifled her jealousy before replying, “It be
true I am a greedy wench, but I do favor my cocks to be made of
gold when possible.”

She knew it was on the tip of Sophia’s tongue to
accuse her of avarice, of the corporal kind, and it satisfied her
to take the opportunity from her. Sweeping past Sophia, she headed
upstairs. The splendor of being in Master Gallant’s arms had not
dissipated, and she knew she would relive the moment over and over
again. Indeed, she wondered that she would sleep tonight. She had
his forgiveness when she thought she might have made of him a
permanent enemy, but her instincts had proven true. The man had
desired her.

But his hesitation to cross Sir Arthur would be hard
to overcome. She did not wish to exasperate Master Gallant, but now
that she had spent in his glory, she knew one night would not be
enough. Her desire for him had only grown, and her biggest fear was
how to quell the flames before they should burn the both of
them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

S
itting at his breakfast
table, Charles threw back the shot of ginseng before washing it
down with a cup of coffee—very strong coffee. He wondered that he
would ever take to the taste of the Chinese root, but after a long
day yesterday, followed by a prolonged evening, thanks to Miss
Terrell, he needed the effects of the ginseng, which the Chinese
believed to include improved health, alertness and vitality.

He took up the paper, but his mind wandered
straightway to the events of yester evening before reading a single
headline. He had already replayed the memories, but he went through
them again for he could not make sense of his emotions. A part of
him was still in shock, mystified by all that had transpired. He
had gone from rage to forgiveness in but a few hours. That had
never happened before. Was it pity that had moved him? He could not
recall the vision of her scarred back without cringing. By all
means, pity played a part. No creature need suffer such violence.
He wondered who had administered the flogging. What had Miss
Terrell done to provoke the harsh flagellation? How old was she
when it had happened? His stomach turned at the possibility that
she might have been much younger than she was now.