The Price of Desire (11 page)

Slowly she rose from the bath, her wet hair dripping down her shoulders. “Pass me a towel, if you please.” They had struck a fair bargain. Now it was time to pay the piper. Though she had agreed to be a whore, she was an honest one and would fulfill her end of the bargain to the best of her abilities.

His eyes were smoky with desire as he stepped toward her, towel in hand.

She held out her hand, trying to stop herself from blushing or turning away at his open scrutiny of her body. A real courtesan would not be embarrassed at her nakedness. A real courtesan, she was sure, would use it to drive her protector wilder than ever with desire, so he would not tire of her. “The towel.”

His face had a feral glint in the gaslight. “I do not think so.”

The chill of the night air was forming goose bumps on her wet body, and her nipples had formed into tight, hard buds with the cold. “Please.” Now was not the time for teasing her.

Stepping closer, he stroked down one of her shoulders with the towel. “Why should you have to dry yourself when I am here to do it for you?”

His light touch heated her chilled body from the inside out. She would not have been surprised to see tendrils of steam rising from her damp skin. “You do not have to act as my servant.”

“I am not acting as your servant but as your lover.” His words flowed over her like rich chocolate as he ran the towel over each shoulder and arm, over the planes of her back and the peaks of her breasts. “A lover tends to his mistress’s needs just as she tends to his. And your need at this moment is to be warmed and dried.”

“I am quite warm now,” she protested. The goose bumps on her arms were gone, but her nipples were peaked harder and tighter than before. Too much warmer and she would begin to drip and melt right back into the bathwater again.

His eyes lit up with a knowing smile. “Good.”

The satisfaction in his voice made her squirm. It was as if he could read her thoughts, could read her desire for him and the need that he made her feel. “The fire is very warm,” she said stoutly. One thing she knew for sure about her new profession was that she could not afford to be weak, or to let her desires overrule her good sense. She must drive men wild for her, until they would pay any sum of money, give her anything, for the delights of tasting her. Allowing any man, especially Dominic, to turn the tables on her and to make her fond of him was the beginning of the end. Her affections would make her vulnerable, and she could not afford any weakness. Her family depended on her. Their welfare had to remain at the forefront of her mind.

Still he stroked her with the towel, though she was sure she was as dry as dust already. “You desire me,” he said. “You want me to take you again, to fuck you like I did in the conservatory. You should not try to pretend otherwise. That is not the bargain we have made.”

It was true. Her knees were weak and her breath came short with wanting him. She wanted him to take her again, to brand her with his ownership, to make her feel alive. She could not hide her desire from him. It was foolish to think that she could.

Lusting after him did not have to be problem, though. Every animal felt lust and an urge to procreate. As long as she remembered that teasing him and pleasing him was her profession now, and had nothing to do with softer feelings of liking, or even, God forbid, love, she would survive.

Sexual desire was her meal ticket—her desire as well as his. She would foster his liking for her, and draw him on by showing him how much she wanted him. Surely he would want to feel irresistible, to have his good opinion of himself flattered. That would make him want her all the more, maybe even fall a little in love with her. Yes, if she could manage to make him fall in love with her, then her future would be assured. If he was genuinely fond of her, he would surely treat her well and be generous to her, more generous than if he simply wanted to fuck her.

Love, however, was her enemy. She would have no truck with love at all.

She held out her arms to him and allowed him to pat her injured hands dry. “I cannot touch you as I would wish to,” she said, looking ruefully down at the deep cracks and weeping blisters that marred her palms.

His brows drew together in a frown. “I will have a doctor see to those in the morning.”

“Can he see Louisa, too?” All thoughts of being seductive flew out of her mind as she thought of her sister’s worrying cough. “And Emily’s hands are worse than mine.”

“He will see Louisa, too. And Emily. And anyone else who needs him. I will ensure he is at your disposal for the whole day, or longer if you would like.”

“Thank you.” She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. He was a good man to look after her sisters with such thoughtfulness, and she was grateful to him. Even courtesans were allowed to feel gratitude. How different he was from the miserly Captain Bellamy. And what a lucky escape she’d had not to be wed to Bellamy.

He reached out and drew his fingers over her cheeks. “Don’t cry.”

“You are very good to us.”

“I am investing a lot of money to have you at my disposal. There is little point in leaving you unhappy when investing just a little more will put a smile on your pretty face.”

His words, kind as they were, recalled her to her duties. “You deserve to be thanked properly.”

“Properly?”

She dropped to her knees in front of him, a smile flitting across her face. “Or improperly, if you would prefer.” Ever since their interlude in the conservatory, she had been secretly longing to examine him more closely. Being Dominic’s official mistress was going to have its advantages.

His groin was at eye level now and the bulge in his trousers was unmistakable. She reached to unbutton his trousers and then winced with pain. Maybe not. “Unbutton your trousers for me,” she demanded. She might not be able to use her hands very well, but there were other things she could use to give him pleasure. He had showed her how that night in the conservatory. Now seemed like a good time to put his lessons into practice.

His fingers hesitated over the buttons. “Are you sure?”

Her face grew hot with shame as she rocked back on her heels, away from him. Had she read his mood wrongly? “Do you not want me?”

“I am not a demanding master.” His voice sounded choked. “We will have plenty of time for you to fulfill our bargain. Tonight you are tired and have been half starved. And your hands hurt.”

Is that all that was bothering him? That she would think he was too demanding? She leaned closer in to him and breathed on the bulge in his groin, pleased to see it twitch and grow still further with desire for her. “I wasn’t going to use my hands.” Seeing him stand in front of her, swollen with wanting her, gave her a feeling almost of power over him. He was her master and she was bound to obey him in all their sensual games, but she was not helpless, either. She could make him desire her, whether he wanted to or not. Once she had him in her mouth, all his self-control would not avail him, and then, when he lost his control and was mindless with need for her, she would have the upper hand in the games they played.

His hands moved over his buttons and he began slowly to undo them. She could make out no expression on his face, it was as blank as if he were in a trance.

His trousers once undone, he attended to the placket of his drawers, drawing out his swollen cock with a sigh almost of pain. His trousers and his drawers fell around his ankles. With a muttered curse, he pulled off his boots and tossed them into a corner, then stepped out of his pants and kicked them over on top of his boots. Wearing nothing but his linen shirt and waistcoat he stood in front of her, mutely begging her to touch him.

She drew in a hasty breath at the sight of his huge cock, moving her head back from his swaying erection. Surely it was bigger even than it had been in the conservatory. Or had she simply failed to do it justice in her memory?

Her hands might be sore, but that would not stop her from giving him pleasure. With the tip of her tongue she tentatively licked up and down its length, over the ridges and dents, down to the base of the shaft and then up again to the massive purple head. A drop of fluid leaked out of the eye at the top and she licked it away, savoring the salty taste of his masculinity.

“Take me in your mouth. Please.” His words were a groan and his hands tangled in her hair, urging her forward onto him. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so damn long. I can’t wait any longer.”

She shuffled forward on her knees until she was at his feet, taking him deep into her mouth as she did so, caressing him with her tongue and lips and bringing a groan of pleasure to his lips.

The towel on the floor kept her knees from the cold, and the bathtub against her back steadied her from falling over as he thrust his hips at her mouth, as eagerly as if she had already stripped away his last vestige of humanity and he was nothing more than a brute with only bestial instincts left to him.

His lack of control heated her body even more than the hot bathwater had. She felt a rash of warmth spread out over her chest, and in between her legs she felt a rush of liquid. Her body was getting ready to welcome his cock where it belonged, deep inside of her. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to slake the desire that was building up inside of her, but the friction only made it climb higher.

Her nipples were peaked to tiny nubs of desire. Leaning in closer to him, she touched them against his bare legs. The hairs on his legs tickled them and made them still tighter.

Wanting to excite him as much as she could, she decided to play the submissive further. She held her hands behind her back, giving the impression of being tied and helpless. And as a bonus it hid her ugly, injured cracked hands from sight. Spreading her legs slightly she lowered her body so her head was below the level of his cock. Then she looked up to catch his eye, encouraging him to enjoy the view of her body.

With her hands at her back, her breasts thrust forward, and her head tilted back to look up at him, she gave a light lick on the underside of his cock. “Does my master desire me?”

She rubbed her sensitive nipples against his legs overtly, swaying from side to side, and all the while looking up past his cock to meet his gaze. His face was tight, pained, as if he were only just managing to hold onto his self-control. “Would my master like me to caress him like this?”

Her tongue tasted his sac, tight in the cool air. With each tantalizing lick his cock gave a little spasm. He didn’t have to reply for her to know that he wanted her. She could feel his back arching, his cock thrusting, encouraging her to continue.

His growing desire excited her in turn. She could feel herself growing even wetter between her legs. Her parts were burning for him, wanting his touch. She longed to touch herself, but resisted, keeping her hands behind her back. This was for him, not for her.

Shifting up a little, she once more took him into her mouth, touching him only with her lips on his cock. Moving her head back and forth she pleasured him with her mouth, pausing occasionally to swirl her tongue over the swollen head.

The touch of her tongue made him moan in delight. And when she added a gentle suction, pulling him greedily into her mouth and only reluctantly letting him go again, his moans grew almost painful.

Although she was playing the part of the mistress and he was her master, she was certain it was she who was in control.

How far would he go for her? What was the extent of the power she could wield over him by acting as his slave? She looked up at him once more. “I cannot touch you with my own hands, but I would like to see you pleasure yourself, to see your hand at your own cock, then taste your seed as you cry in pleasure. What would my master say to that?” That way he could find the release he needed without the guilt of demanding her full participation.

There was only the briefest of pauses. “I could do that. But I would want to look at you as I did so.”

Though he had tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, she could tell the idea of touching himself in front of her excited him. She wondered nervously which view of her he would enjoy the most. She could lie on her back and display herself openly for him, or she could remain on her knees and turn around, providing him with a fine view of her from the back.

The former, she decided. That way she would be able to watch him, too.

Pulling away from, him she lay on her back, continuing the fiction of being bound by keeping her injured hands behind her. Hesitantly she spread her legs wide and raised her knees. She could do this. Despite her relative innocence, she could play the part of an experienced courtesan. There was too much at stake for her to fail. “Does my master like this view?” she asked shyly. “Can he see my wetness? Can he see how I desire him so?”

He stood over her for a moment, then came down to kneel astride her stomach, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Looking her in the eye, he rubbed the tip of his cock over each of her nipples until they were hard and tight, then moved up to rest his cock at her mouth.

When she lifted her head slightly to taste him, he backed away, teasing her. “Ah no. You shall not get any pleasure from this yet, my dear mistress. This is for me alone.”

Moving back a little he began to move his hand rhythmically along the full length of his hard shaft, first slowly, then faster as his breathing quickened.

When his breath was coming in short pants, he slowed his pace, changing to short strokes near the base. He let his cock bob tantalizingly before her for a moment while he teased his own nipples. Each time he pinched them, his cock jumped a little, seemingly getting bigger and harder with every spasm.

Beneath him, Caroline watched as he touched himself. Never in her wildest of thoughts would she have ever imagined seeing such a sight as a man pleasing himself. But oh, how erotic it was.

She felt as if she were on fire. Desperate to do more than simply watch, she surreptitiously rubbed her legs together to ease the ache building up inside her. Her desire was stronger even than it had been in the conservatory. If she did not get some release soon, she was going to die.