Read Trust Me Online

Authors: Natasha Blackthorne

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #New Adult & College, #Regency, #Historical Romance

Trust Me (22 page)

“Well, this is
definitely one of those times when you should be.” He patted her shoulder.
“Stand.”

She stood.

He arose from the divan.
“Lay on your belly for me.”

She obeyed then
nuzzled the soft red velvet against her cheek. He knelt beside her head and
began again to massage her neck and shoulders. “You are simply tense.”

At his touch, warmth
spread through her, relaxing her. Easing the lingering ache in her pelvis that
had been with her since last night. For a few minutes, neither of them said
anything. She lay still, her body slowly melting under the soothing strokes of
his hands gliding over the satin shift. Moving ever lower, he caressed her
arse.

“You are lovely in
this. I knew you would be.” He gave her buttock a soft smack. “Roll over,
wench.”

She complied. He was
wearing that look of determination she knew well now. She wasn’t the only one
thinking of staying home. Relief washed over her.

He walked on his
knees to the foot of the divan.

“Lift your skirt,
Nan, and show me your stockings.”

She lifted the
garment and looked down at the stockings herself . “I do rather like them.”

“Do you?” He grinned
and placed his broad palm on her knee, then slid his hand along the silken
surface up under the shift to her thigh.

“Yes, and the shift
too. They are so very… wicked.”

“And do you like
being a wicked girl?”

Heat flamed over her
face. She laughed, because it was silly to blush with her husband, especially
after everything that had already passed between them. But it was quite an
admission to make. “I do, but…”

“But what?”

“Only if you command
it.”

“But you like wearing
them, do you not?”

“I do, but it is not
like me.”

“How is it not like
you?”

“I am not a—” She
broke off laughing.

“Not
a what, my darling girl?”

“Not a temptress. Not
a carnal creature.”

“Yes, you are. This
is part of you.”

She stared at him,
uncertain about what to say.

“Anne, I couldn’t
command you to do anything you truly didn’t want to do. At least, I couldn’t
arouse you with a command to do something you didn’t want to do.” The skin
crinkled slightly around his eyes, which had lightened to the colour of an
August sky. “Lift the skirt—all the way.”

She inched the shift
up to above her navel.

His features drew
tight and his gaze sharpened on the place between her legs. She watched as he
moved his hand upwards, above the tops of her black stockings to brush the
sable triangle at her apex.

“You are so gorgeous
like this.” He delved his fingers into her. Her wetness made a soft slurping
noise in the silence.

“Jon…”

“What?”

“Please.”

“Please what? Please
make you come?”

“Yes, that.”

“Was that so hard to
ask, my love?”

She let go her
tension in a halting laugh. “Yes.”

“You must be honest
with me, always.”

“I try, Jon. I cannot
promise anything.”

“Shall I show you how
I reward my good girl for her honesty?” He took her wrists, brought them up to
her chest and then pulled them together.

As always, calmness settled
over her. Complete passivity and willingness to wait and see what he would do.
He held her with one hand and reached into his pocket with the other and
retrieved the silver handcuffs.

She gaped at him.

God. Did he carry them
everywhere, at all times?

He grinned. “Only
when you’re with me, love.”

He fastened them
about her wrists then locked them. He dropped a kiss on her mouth then arose
and disappeared into her chamber.

He returned, holding
that velvet pouch.

She knew it contained
those little silver balls, the objects of merciless erotic torture he’d
introduced her to when they were secluded at Applecroft House.

Her stomach sank.
“No, no, please.” She writhed, crossing her legs. “Please don’t, I shall go
tonight. I shall be good, I promise.”

Her body began to
tremble. She didn’t want those horrid orbs? But it was also deliciously
arousing for him to command that she accept them.

He put his fingers to
her mouth. “This is not punishment.”

“Then don’t use those
hideous orbs.” Her heart pounded and her mouth dried and her whole body
tingled. She couldn’t be sure if she were more afraid or aroused that he was
going to force their use.

“They make you come
hard. When I am fucking you afterwards, you nearly crush my cock. You always
scream. I adore it.” He brushed his fingertips along the seam of her closed
legs. “Open for me, my love.”

He tickled the wet
crease of her slit.

She couldn’t resist.
She parted for him. He grasped her where her limbs met her pelvis and parted
her wider. Pulled her down. Her bottom slid over the velvet nap with a slight
burning sensation. Then the coldness of metal touched her. Unable to stop
herself, she tightened her internal muscles, trying to avoid the insertion. His
grip on her intensified.

Her heart pounded all
the harder.

Oh, he was really
about to put those little devils in…

She swallowed against
the increasing dryness in her throat. He pushed the first ball in deep. Brief
fullness and pressure built. She moaned softly and twisted her body. He slipped
the second one inside her.

Aching need swelled
deep in her belly. She whimpered.

His large hand lay on
her lower abdomen. She opened her eyes. He was gazing at her, his eyes glazed
over with desire.

“Hush, my love, they
are made for pleasure too.” He brought her almost to the very edge of the divan
and then draped her legs over his shoulders. Put his mouth on her slick folds.
He flicked his tongue against her nub. Fire raced through her. Her hips bucked
of their own accord.

He lifted his head.
“My tongue has a special rapport with this precious pearl. No other part of me
is crafted to pleasure it quite so well. We should honour this rapport, from
time to time, by engaging in this act singularly, so that we may explore and
enjoy its every nuance without distraction.”

The meaning of what
he said settled on her slowly. He wouldn’t be requiring anything from her. This
was all for her. Yet, he was still in complete control. Relaxation spread
through her. He put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her pelvis up to
meet his mouth. At the touch of his warm, wet mouth, pleasure took her, lifted
her up.

Licking, nibbling and
sucking, he led her to the precipice again and again. She stuck her fist in her
mouth to keep from screaming her frustration.

He put his hand above
her pelvic bone and pressed lightly, whilst swirling his tongue around her nub.
Her cunt contracted and released in a convulsive explosion of pleasure. Her
hand dropped from her mouth and she screamed with the ecstatic release.

 

****

 

Jon found himself
transfixed by the sight of his wife’s broad, round arse moving beneath the
black silk. Her post-orgasmic relaxation caused her to walk with such a
beautiful, swaying grace.

“I am afraid Nellie is
not up to helping this evening. You shall have to fasten my gown for me.” Anne
entered her chamber.

Jon followed her.
“What is troubling your nervous little abigail?”

Anne stopped in front
of her dressing table and slowly peeled off one of the black silk gloves. Then
she faced him and held her arm up with the wrist facing outward. “She saw
this.”

Her delicate skin
bore a clear red mark. He had done that, in the heat of last night. His guts
twisted, most of all because if he chose to mark her, he preferred to do it
with conscious intention. Doing so without conscious intention was a sign of
losing control. It was a betrayal of her trust in him, however slight. He took
her hand and, holding it gently, traced a fingertip over the red marks. “I am
sorry. I never meant to mark you in such a visible area.”

“It made things
rather awkward, that is all.”

He lifted his brows.
“Nellie dared say something?”

Anne cast down her
gaze. “She merely expressed concern.”

“Your dresser should
not feel so familiar with you.”

She rolled her
shoulders slightly. “It is difficult for her. She practically raised me.”

“We should find you a
new abigail, some little French girl perhaps. Someone who understands lovers’
games and will not blink at such things.”

“I have tried.” Anne
put her hand to her forehead and rubbed. “I have tried so hard to carefully
broach the subject of a pension with her.” Her voice sounded so troubled. She
looked up at him, her forehead wrinkled. “She will not hear of it.”

His stomach took a
sinking turn. She couldn’t even handle her own servant. How would she ever
stand up to his grandmother when she arrived? Well, no matter, this would have
to be dealt with. “I shall have a talk with her.”

Anne jerked her head
up and her eyes sparked. “No, you shall not.”

“I shall simply
explain that her position in your life has changed. You can let her train the
new chit and then she can manage your linens or something.”

Anne’s mouth dropped.
“Manage my linens?”

“Or something like
that. Anne, she’s too familiar with you. Neither of us can tolerate that.”

“But it would be
heartless to assign her to such a humiliating position. I will not have it, my
lord.” Anne spoke in a soft yet clear tone. She wasn’t waspish or disrespectful
but she was quite firm.

His heart did swell
with something like admiration, albeit mixed with frustration, for her
priorities were completely upside-down. “Anne, I pay Nellie’s wages. I do not
have to ask your permission to speak with her or to reassign her.”

“Then I want to
change that. I want her paid directly out of my funds. Answerable to me alone.”

“She is now a part of
this household. She falls under my dominion.”

“You said this house
was under my control. You said unless there were some dire threat to health or
safety, that you would not question me. That includes the servants.”

“And what will you do
when you are faced with a thirty-five year old footman who is full of rum and
not of a mind to obey? Will you simply tap your little foot and expect him to
back down in fear of your wrath?” The corner of his mouth lifted at the image.
“I must handle reprimanding servants.”

“I want to re-open
the negotiation of our life, my lord. I think I should be allowed to handle the
needs and the reprimanding of the female servants.”

He folded his arms
over his chest. “What do you intend to do about Nellie?”

“I intend to keep
working on her affection for her mother. I shall persuade her that it is her
duty as a good daughter to return home before her mother passes from this
life.”

“You are thinking
emotionally.”

“Perhaps I am. But
loyalty and long-term service mean something to me.”

“Anne, Nellie was
paid wages to do her job. It was not a family tie of affection. It was an
economic necessity for her. Any sore feelings she has will be eased
considerably by a generous pension. You need feel no guilt when we dismiss
her.”

“You speak so coldly
of the matter. Could you dismiss Toby so easily?”

“If it became
necessary.”

“But he was with you
all through your service in the Dragoons!”

“I would never dismiss
him without a pension. Now see here, this discussion is over. You think too
much with your emotions on the matter of servants’ employment. I shall continue
to oversee the hiring and dismissal of the staff.”

“But Jon—”

He lifted his hand
and motioned for her to turn.

She remained still,
her stare serious and penetrating. “What about my personal servants? Surely I
should be allowed to determine who serves me.”

“I shall think on it.
Now turn and let me tie your laces, we need to hurry.”

 

****

 

In the carriage, Anne
fanned her face slowly.

Jon was reading the
newspaper. He was always reading them now. All those stories about Peterloo and
what the government intended to do. How the people were reacting. He’d become
almost joyless. Like a merchant obsessing over trade reports.

“The whole world
seems so angry now,” Anne remarked.

“Our time is limited.
The day of the aristocrat is drawing to an end.”

“How can you say such
a thing? Surely Parliament will pass laws; they will protect our interests.”

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