The Care and Feeding of Your Captive Earl (What Happens In Scotland Book 3) (7 page)

“Why are you suddenly so concerned with what is proper, Gwen?”

Irritated by his critical tone, she bit the inside of her mouth to keep from lashing out at him. “I’m a
lady,
Matthias. My whole life is governed by what is proper and what is not.”

She wasn’t about to tell him the truth. That propriety was what made her world safe. It was what kept people from getting hurt. As long as one played by the rules, life would go on as it should.

“And kidnapping me? Where does that fall on your measurement of propriety?”

When he glared at her, she huffed. “Very well. Yes, insisting on coming to Scotland and kidnapping you were both deplorably improper. And look how dearly I have paid for those choices. I am trapped here, in the wilderness, with
you,
for heaven’s sake. And I haven’t the slightest idea what is being said at home. I could very well have ruined my reputation forever.”

His hand slid down the small of her back, and pulling her forward slightly, continued until it was resting on her backside. He squeezed gently and she yelped in surprise. “The damage is already done,” he said. “So you might as well enjoy paying the price.”

The words tumbled from his lips with a low, seductive rumble, and she found herself swaying slightly, imagining his soft lips gliding across her naked skin. What would it feel like, surrendering to a man like Matthias?

Shaking her head, she forced the thought away. That line of thinking was how women ended up with child, married and miserable—or worse, with child,
un
married and miserable. In any event, both options led to misery. Indeed, the very illusion of love led to misery. She’d witnessed it firsthand, and as a girl, watching her parents argue to the point of violence—she’d vowed she would never allow herself to love. The business was far too perilous for her liking.

Eyes snapping open, she straightened. “There is
no
price to be paid, thank you kindly. Now release me or…”

“Or what, Gwen? You’ll scream?” He dipped his head. “There’s no one around for miles. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

Yes, she did.

His lips found the column of her neck.
Oh, dear God.
Nothing had ever felt so good in her life. He continued to nip at her skin, kissing it softly. And damn her body, but she tilted her head back, giving him better access to her neck.

Seconds later, she realized he had both her wrists pinned above her head. She wasn’t sure when or how, but he’d captured her soundly.

When he pulled away, still holding her wrists, she swallowed. “R-release me.”

“No,” he said. Curt. Final.

“W-what are you going to do?”

His gaze fell to her lips, and fear knotted in her chest. Was he going to kiss her again? Would she have the strength to push him away if he did?

“You kidnapped me, and you tied me up for days. I am going to punish you, of course.”

He said the words so casually she thought he might be joking. But there was no amusement in his tone, or in the way he looked at her. He was serious, and that realization caused her heartbeat to kick up a few notches, thudding violently in her chest. What would he do with her?

He tugged on her wrists, pulling her forward. That’s what finally shook her out of her daze. Twisting her wrists, she tried to wrench herself out of his grasp, kicking at his shins with her bare feet.

“Release me this instant,” she yelped. But the more she struggled, the tighter he gripped her wrists—to the point of pain. “You are hurting me.”

“Stop struggling against me.” He towed her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

When she realized where he was taking her, a knot of cold, hard panic gathered in her chest. “Please don’t take me upstairs.”

He didn’t answer. Would he force himself upon her? She’d known Matthias a long time, and she’d never known him to be a brute. Still, she’d never seen him in a situation like this and she hadn’t any idea
what
he would do when provoked.

At the top of the stairs, Gwen twisted and grabbed hold of the railing, refusing to let go. Undeterred, Matthias simply tugged, severing her connection with the railing. Then sweeping her up into his arms, he flung her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a sack of flour.

“Put me down,” she grated, flailing, but to no avail. He hardly seemed to notice her pounding at his back and kicking her legs.

Walking down the short corridor, he entered the bedchamber and set her on the bed. He then took the rope that had bound
him
just a short while ago, and twisted it around her wrists, securing her wrists together, then to the headboard, allowing her a few inches of leeway—as she had done for him.

“You are a boorish cur,” she spat. “You don’t truly intend to leave me this way.”

Though her words were sharp, she felt as though she might faint. If he left her this way…No, he wouldn’t. He simply wished to teach her a lesson, to frighten her before declaring this was all a vile joke. She knew Matthias would never hurt her. She trusted that much, at least. Though whether or not he would
torment
her—well that was another matter entirely…

In the struggle, her morning dress had slipped off her shoulders. She hadn’t been able to tie the tapes in the back, and she’d had to make do. Now the dress sagged, exposing the tops of her breasts. With the two or three inches of leeway in the rope, she was able to reach up and cover her chest.

Fear soon gave way to anger.

She kicked at him, but he’d already moved away, toward the fireplace. Taking something off the mantel, he struck it and lit the fire. Within minutes, warmth spread through the small chamber.

Gwen huffed, twisting her arms, attempting to free herself—the rope bit into her flesh painfully, but she didn’t stop. The twine would have to give eventually. Mayhap if she twisted and contorted, she could wriggle herself free. It was worth a try.

But then
what
?
They were miles from the nearest town and days away from rescue.

Matthias approached the bed, sitting beside her on the mattress. Every muscle in her body stiffened, and though she attempted to show no outward indication that she was frightened, she flinched at his nearness. Drat it all.

With one hand, he pinned both her wrists above her head. Then with the fingers of his free hand, he skimmed along the sagging neckline of her bodice. His touch was feather light and it sent a shock of energy straight through her body. She drew in a stuttering breath, scandalized by the sensation.

His lips tilted up into a wicked smile. “Like that, do you?”

“Not at all,” she replied, breathless. “It is quite indecorous, in fact.”

Shamefully
indecorous.

Handsome face aside; he had a seductive nature that made one feel as though she were the center of his universe. It was an illusion, she knew, but it wasn’t any less persuasive.

His finger dipped beneath her bodice, brushing against her nipple. She bit the inside of her mouth as he lowered his head, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Indecorous or not, you respond to my touch like a woman possessed. You are quite the wanton, Gwendolyn.”

Indeed, she
felt
possessed. Drugged by the feeling of his hands on her body. She had the sickening feeling she would never get enough.

Unconsciously, she arched her back, her body begging for more. “Your behavior is inexcusable,” she panted. “Remove your hands from my person at once.”

His head descended closer, just a fraction, and her eyes fluttered closed. He was going to kiss her—she sensed it—and she
so
desperately wanted to feel his lips pressed to hers again. It seemed an age since she’d last tasted him.

Instead, his lips brushed across her cheek, over her eyes, then finally her lips. “I would do, Miss Gwendolyn, but I believe you are enjoying it.”

She swallowed, drinking in the sensation of his hands, his mouth. “It doesn’t matter what I enjoy. This is…improper.”

He tugged on her bodice, pulling it down to reveal her naked breast. Her nipple puckered against the cold air and she flinched, instinctively moving her arms to cover herself. They tugged against the rope, tightening a fraction more around her wrists.

The loss of control was infuriating, and just slightly…
enthralling
. She was torn between the impropriety of what she was allowing him to do and enjoying the sheer pleasure his touch elicited. Selfishly, she didn’t want him to stop.

When his lips came down on her nipple, she lost all rational thought. She was a slave to the sensation of his mouth, sucking, nibbling her breast. Heat engulfed her, rushing through her veins like liquid fire.

“Oh,” she gasped.

He pulled her gown and chemise up, gathering the fabric around her waist until her bottom half was completely exposed, cold air nipping at her skin. She shivered as he kissed his way down her body, until he reached the apex of her thighs. With one hand on her knee, he opened her thighs wide and then pressed his lips
there
—to the most intimate part of her body.

She sucked in a shocked breath through her teeth, and attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Mortification crept into every crevice of her body. No one had ever been that close to her most intimate areas and her immediate instinct was to shove him away—but he’d taken that ability away from her. He held her hips steady as he buried his face between her thighs.

Oh, sweet heaven!

He licked the length of her entrance—
languidly
—and she swore she’d die in that moment. Arching her back, she moaned and spread her thighs wider. He rewarded her with a nip of his teeth and the short burst of pain sent a flood of pleasure through her body.

“Matthias,” she breathed, lifting her hips up off the bed. “It feels so,
so
good.”

Holding her hips down, he pushed his tongue inside her entrance, licking and sucking, until she couldn’t take anymore. Inside, she felt restless—
need
devouring her from the inside out. It was pleasure and torment all at once.

“Please,” she panted, tossing her head from side to side. “
Please,
Matthias.”

“What?” he said. “What do you want, Gwendolyn?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

When he growled against her sensitive core, she nearly split in two. The vibration sent a wave of heat rushing through her and pleasure unlike anything she’d ever felt, surged through her veins. It was exquisite, but there was something more that her body craved.

She was on the edge of a yawning abyss—just toeing the very edge of the precipice, poised to fling herself over, when suddenly, Matthias pulled away.

For the breadth of a moment, she expected him to return.

It wasn’t until he moved away from her and rose off the bed, that she realized he was going to leave her like this—craving something she didn’t even fully understand.

“Wait, no!” she cried out. “Where are you going?”

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, smoothing her skirts down over her knees. “I’m going to see about that tea.”

The tea? She blinked, and it took a minute for her to comprehend him. The tea she’d been making when he’d interrupted her in the kitchen?

“Tea! Who cares about the blasted tea!?”

Her body was still humming, aching for his touch, craving the heaven of his tongue. It was deplorable how quickly and effortlessly she’d succumbed.

He flashed her a wicked smile, and it was then that she realized—he was tormenting her. He’d taken her to the brink, and then pulled away on purpose. He was punishing her, just as he’d promised he would do.

The question was, how far did he plan to take this?

CHAPTER SEVEN

When he returned with a tray of tea, she was sitting up, glaring at him. Her hair was a mess around her shoulders, and her gown sagged. She looked so damned beguiling and his cock took immediate notice.

“You’ve proven your point,” she grated out. “Now if you
please
…”

“Oh, I haven’t even
begun
to prove my point, love.”

He set the tray on the nightstand and poured tea into one of the delicate cups, then held it up to her lips. Pressing her lips together, she turned her head away. “It’s far too early in the day for tea,” she grated out.

He drained the contents of the cup and placed it back on the tray.

“You’ll need to keep up your strength for what I have planned,” he warned.

Her head snapped back around and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What does that mean?”

He shook his head and laughed. “You can’t play the innocent miss with me, Gwen.” He leaned over and skimmed his finger along her cheekbone. “I’ve seen the passion behind these eyes. I know what you crave.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed. “You don’t know me in the least.”

He laughed under his breath. If only she knew the true extent of his curiosity about her. On the few occasions she was in society, he’d watched her from the periphery. “I know you better than you think.”

She scoffed, a challenge to his statement.

“I know you detest dancing—you make the most deplorable and beautiful faces on the rare occasion you are asked. You have a curiously strong interest in Greek mythology, and you have a weakness for sweet tarts.”

She straightened. “Anyone who has encountered me in society would know the same things. Your observations are by no means extraordinary.”

Lifting her chin with his forefinger, he forced her to look into his eyes. “You don’t believe you are worthy of a gentleman’s attentions. You stay to the shadows because you fear humiliation…and rejection. It seems you have woefully underestimated the influence you have over men.”

Her cheeks flushed and her tongue came out to lick her bottom lip. “There is only one man, in particular, I care to influence.”

He lifted a brow, and she arched her back slightly, thrusting her breasts out with the subtle movement. To anyone who didn’t know Gwen, it would look as though she was just shifting into a more comfortable position. But Matthias knew her cunning. Earlier, he’d deliberately left her unsatisfied, and now, it appeared she intended to tempt him.