Charlotte's Control, page 16
She forced herself to stay with the gown she had planned, then dawdled deliberately so she would not be among the first to arrive in her eagerness to see him.
Upon her arrival, she spied Ruth and forged a path to greet her new friend. She was eager to discuss an article in the paper that day about child labor in factories, a topic that had arisen over Sophia’s tea.
Mid-discussion, the back of her neck warmed. The air shifted, and the fine hairs on her arms lifted even as she breathed in spiced rum and…William. She hoped rakelet’s mother would not notice her nipples standing at attention all at once.
His arm brushed hers as he came to stand facing them both from the side. She shivered once before tamping it down and straightening another fraction.
“William. Excellent. Countess, allow me to introduce you to my son, Lord Stanton. William, this is the Dowager Countess of Peterborough. We met a month ago at the Earl of Peterborough’s home. She is an excellent conversational partner, I am pleased to say.”
Charlotte flushed, embarrassed at the effusiveness of the praise. She raised her chin and regarded her puppy.
He waited expectantly.
Oops. Etiquette required she recognize him first. She nodded and offered her hand to him. “Lord Stanton.”
He bowed over it and rose with a wide grin. “Now, now, Lady Peterborough, do not pretend we do not know each other. Why, we met last year at a similar ball, and I’ve seen you at a number of scientific lectures. I should be crushed if you did not remember me.” His easy smile lingered as he squeezed her hand before releasing it.
“Of course, I do. And I am flattered that you recall a widow such as myself.”
Ruth chimed in. “William just completed his studies at Oxford, and was kind enough to forego a Grand Tour to step in and assist his father and I at home.” She glossed over the details. “William, we were discussing the article in the Times about the possibility of factory reform laws getting through Parliament finally. Do you have any thoughts on that?”
“Yes, Mama, but I decline to discuss them when there is a beautiful woman, no matter how intelligent, with whom I might dance. Char—er, Lady Peterborough? May I have this dance?” He bowed.
“Ah well, find me later, dear, if the gentlemen allow you a rest between dances. Enjoy, you two.” Ruth ceded her to William’s care before Charlotte could find an excuse.
The tongues would wag over this, even a single dance. She’d only danced with long-time friends until now. Her body did not care, however. Every inch of skin strained to close the gap between them, to search out his skin, the pads of muscle underneath, the rod of steel she knew awaited. It was all she could do to remember that a ball was the worst place for such thoughts.
They needed to talk before any clothes were removed, anyway. While she found she could not resist the lure of spending time with him again, she needed to ensure he understood her rules and timeline. They still had an end date, as he needed to marry someone who could give him children.
The puppy grinned at her the whole time, and not-so-subtly steered them toward the doors to the terrace. He kept hold of her hand as the dance ended, threaded it into the crook of his elbow, and clamped his other hand down on it, all but dragging her.
“William!” She hissed at him, glancing around for observers. No one seemed to be paying attention to them.
“Stroll with me, please, Mistress?”
“No.” She planted her feet, but saw an opportunity—he needed a reminder of her rules. “Did you forget what happens when you touch without permission?”
“Fine.” Heaving a huge sigh to indicate his suffering, William acquiesced quickly, making her narrow her eyes at him. “We shall do it your way for now, my lady. I shall see you at your home in a couple of hours then. I do hope you enjoy your time here. I know you shall enjoy your time later.” This last was said in a low tone to ensure it was not overheard.
Charlotte blushed, but as always with him, arguing was futile.
* * * *
Charlotte sipped sherry in her bedroom, not daring to change out of her ballgown for fear she’d leap on William as he came through the door.
She was debating a second sherry to calm her nerves and temper her lust when he burst into the room.
He was in full puppy mode, eyes eager, panting, his hand wrenching at his cravat before he dashed over to scoop her into a hug.
“Mistress,” came out as a sigh against her hair.
“William. If I had any doubt after your letters that you missed me, this would dispel it. I missed you as well.”
“Good. I mean—” he gulped.
She laughed “I understand. But we do need to talk. Come sit.” She led him over to the seating area. “Sherry? Something stronger?”
He waved it off, and plopped down as soon as she sat.
“What are your plans now you’re home?”
“To continue managing things in my father’s shadow, to alleviate some of the burden on my mother, and to woo you.”
She sighed. She’d been afraid of that.
“William, we discussed this before we started. This was supposed to end last summer.”
He sat forward, taking a breath to respond.
She held a hand up, and he closed his mouth, waiting to hear more.
“Your letters made it obvious that you were not planning to comply with that. And—” she heaved a breath “—as I said a minute ago, I missed you too. I have a new proposal.”
He straightened in his chair and grinned. “I’m all ears.”
“I hope not all ears, puppy,” she said with a glance down at his lap.
He choked on a laugh.
“I am willing to have the same arrangement as last summer. But we need to set an end date. At some point you need to find a more suitable girl to marry. I know you have many responsibilities already heaped on you, but heirs are important. You’ll need to consider them soon.”
"I want to consider them with you.”
“I can’t.”
“Don’t you mean ‘shan’t’?”
“No. I mean I cannot. William, do you know how long I was married?” She raised her hand to caress the heart pendant that hung on a chain around her neck.
“Uh, I believe it was close to ten years?”
“Yes. And what is the next thing anyone says about my marriage, when you hear others talk about it?”
He thought. She could see when it registered.
“Mistress.” He leaned toward to her, arms out to hold her, but she held an arm out.
“William, I’ll say it if you will not. I cannot have children. I assumed you’d realized that when we did not use protection against pregnancy. And you need heirs.” She turned away, walking to sit on the edge of her bed, face averted, hand now clutching the necklace. Every time she had to admit that fact hurt, but they both needed brutal honesty to reach an agreement.
Kneeling before her, he put a hand over hers in her lap and laid his forehead on their joined hands.
She dropped her other hand from her throat to his hair.
He grabbed it and kissed it before putting all of their hands on her thighs and holding her gaze. “Mistress, I am sorry. What end date did you have in mind?”
Here was the catch. She hadn’t been able to make herself set one. “Michaelmas?”
Gracious, she had not meant to frame it as a question. Where were her negotiating skills?
“Next Season.”
“No. Christmas.”
“Next Season.”
She smothered a grin. “Ah, perhaps they did not teach bartering skills at Oxford. The goal is to find a compromise.”
He arched a brow. “Apparently you did not understand my starting point. Forever. Next Season is as far as I’m willing to compromise.”
Mischievous, unrepentant puppy. She could also see he had no intention of holding to that date. She’d regret this, but Belle and Sophia and even Ruth, as well as her own longing for him, weakened her will. She answered, “Fine. For now. I reserve the right—”
He’d slid out of the chair to his knees before her. “Yes, Mistress. No, Mistress. Oh yes, Mistress.”
She swore if he had a tail, it would be thumping the floor.
Running her fingers through his hair, she firmed her expression. “Now, there is the matter of you writing to me when you were meant to be studying, in addition to touching me without permission earlier.”
He was still grinning like a loon.
She shook her head at him, holding her pose for a moment before standing. “Remove your clothing and get on the bed. Oh, and unlace me please. I dismissed the servants for the night.”
He bounced up and followed her toward the bed, tugging at her laces hard enough she feared he’d break one. In no time, her gown and stays were loosened and his clothing was flying off.
“Kneel here, please.” She pointed to a spot on the bottom half of the bed, facing the headboard. After removing everything except her chemise, she checked on him.
His focus was on her face, as though awaiting commands. Hers, however, roamed his length, settling on the bobbing erection between his splayed knees. It bounced with each pulse, liquid beading at the tip then tracking in hot tears along the shaft to wet…her ribbon.
Ignoring the thump her heart made at that, she licked her lips. But no, this was a punishment, and while it would eventually be fun for him, he needed to work for his pleasure. She stepped back to her dresser and drew out two pair of leather cuffs attached by leather straps. Like the first set she’d used with him, these were new. She’d bought them for him after sending her letter to Oxford, knowing it would come to this.
They’d arrived a week ago, and she’d slept with them the first night after an amazing bout of self-pleasure completed while envisioning how she’d use them on him. Now reality and memories coalesced, and she squeezed her thighs together at the spurt of wet heat between them.
Approaching him, she pulled her chemise off. Naked, she shortened the straps to place the cuff at each end a few inches apart from its mate.
He clenched his muscles and his cock thumped against his stomach.
She allowed the hint of a smile to play on her lips before containing it. “Widen your knees and hold your ankles.”
He shifted so his bollocks hung in the space between his legs, his bottom still on his heels. His arms went straight down along his sides, long fingers wrapped around ankle bones. A cuff went around his wrist, the other around the ankle. She slid her fingers between the fabric and skin to check the fit before she climbed onto the bed on his other side to tether his right wrist and ankle.
She knelt there next to him, just behind his shoulder, trying to corral her thoughts. Half her brain was setting up a torturous path to bliss for them both. The other half was running around tearing at her hair, caught between fear and elation. She’d been fighting being in love with him since last summer, but gracious, he was tempting.
He knelt before her, wrists holding ankles in a grip tight enough she wasn’t sure she needed cuffs. He had no idea of the extent of his allure. If he knew she’d fallen in love with him, almost ready to forget society’s rules in order to keep him, he’d never give up. But her fight was for his sake and his family’s. She also hated the idea that he’d be hurt as much as she would be if this didn’t work.
“Thank you for wearing this.” She stroked the ribbon with one fingernail, careful not to touch the skin of his cock, even when it bucked under her caress. Tugging on an end, she slid it free and placed it on the table next to her bed.
A stifled moan came from his throat.
“Look straight ahead, William.” The involuntary gruffness of her voice betrayed her arousal. He was gorgeous. She wanted to stare all night, but also touch and lick all night.
He gulped and lowered his chin.
Rewarding his patience and submission, she brought her palm to his shoulder and stroked along his spine, one word echoing through her thoughts. Mine. How she wished she could keep him and not worry.
Forcing her concerns away, she pinched his muscled buttocks because he was too cute not to. And because she could. Then she grabbed pillows and lay them in a long column straight out from the space in front of his spread knees.
She knelt on the closest pillow, being careful not to touch his lower half. Tipping his chin up with one hand, she slanted her mouth across his, licking into him and reveling in his taste. She swore his flavor was eagerness salted with servitude. Whatever it was, it was delicious, and she lingered.
I could kiss him for days.
She hadn’t given him license to come visit by day, though.
She dropped another degree into her Mistress headspace, noting his lean toward her, his nipples and cock pointing at her, his hands clutching his ankles. It was time to teach the puppy new tricks. He was ready to follow any command to please her. More than that, she wanted to spend every night showing him new heights of pleasure, new ways that two compatible souls could connect.
Startled at that thought, she drew back. Shaking her head to clear it, she lay on her back on the pillows. Her essence was already leaking from her folds, her face and chest warm with a flush of anticipation. Placing her bottom about two feet away from him, she spread her legs over his, her head on the farthest pillow. It was as though she surrounded him. Her blood pulsed in her veins.
She skimmed her hands up her legs, over her belly, tweaking her nipples.
He gasped.
When he remained still and silent, she bestowed a small smile upon him. “You may touch me now, however you can manage.”
He instinctively tugged at his bonds, thinking to touch with his hands. Then he looked at their positions for a moment and his lips curled up. “However, Mistress?”
Ah, the rakelet understands the challenge.
“However.” She nodded.
He shuffled his knees forward a few inches, groaning as his bollocks skimmed the first pillow she’d placed in front of him. Then he leaned forward, his stomach muscles, thighs, and upper arms tightening to maintain his balance.
She licked her lips at the sight. Ah, the joy of having William back in her bed, following her commands. It was more than that, though. A tightness had loosened in her chest as soon as she’d received his note before the ball. She’d missed him more than she’d realized. Just as his shoulders dropped after a few minutes in a room with her, so did her loneliness dissipate in his presence. She only wished she could keep him. That longing magnified when he was naked and cuffed between her knees.
His lips found the tight bud of her nipple, a lock of hair falling onto the sensitive skin of her breast.
She gasped, abandoning the future to the present, and arched up to aid his reach. Holding his shoulders, she gave him the added support he needed to shift, without restricting his movements.
He moved to the other breast, lapping at it before sucking it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, as he knew she loved.
She twisted, her need for him rising. Her pulse was urgent, beating in her throat, in her chest, at the apex of her thighs. This gorgeous man—for he was a man now, legally as well as physically—was hers, at least for the time being. She wasn’t sure she had the patience for this lesson, wanting to tip him over and ride him to oblivion. But knowing she always ended up enjoying the control as much as the sex, she forced herself to maintain the pace she’d set.
He closed his teeth on the tip he’d been sucking and she writhed again, drawing his attention down her body.
His shaft thumped against her knee as he stared at her swollen, wet center.
He dipped his head, his cock dragging a hot, damp trail lower on her leg as he shuffled back to get the right angle without toppling.
His shoulders rested on her thighs as most of his chest settled onto his upper legs. He met her gaze for a moment, his enthusiastic smile wresting a grin from her.
She needed someone to paint him smiling like that so she could look at it every day. Shoving concerns of the future aside again, she arched a brow expectantly.
His gaze lowered, and she felt his tongue swipe as his nose hit her sensitive nub. Gripping each lip in his mouth, he sucked and tugged on them in turn to open her more. Then his warm, wet tongue flattened below her folds and swept upward with the most delicious firm pressure.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out, wanting him to work a little harder. This was, after all, meant to be punishment.
He swiped again before nuzzling her raised bud of pleasure with his nose, his tongue flicking at her entrance.
Her hips flexed without her permission, pushing at him to seek more.
“Ah, Mistress,” he groaned, shifting against the bed. She pictured his sac brushing the counterpane, and perhaps the tip of his cock. But with his heels stacked under his bottom, he would not get the friction he needed. He’d have to earn that.
“You’ve found my magic spot with your fingers and your tongue. Let’s see if you remember.” She reached down to hold her lips spread.
He nuzzled her again, breathing her in, then traced her folds, his gaze locked on her face to watch her reactions.
Shifting up a fraction, he delved under the protective hood to circle her most sensitive flesh.
“Ahh, ahh.” The student had been paying attention in class. His intelligence was part of his infinite appeal.
Her eyelids dropped, shuttering her view of his servitude. She dropped her head back and braced her arms on the bed to get the exact pressure she wanted.
Heat swirled in her core, from his breath on her and from the blaze he’d ignited in her. Elbows still braced, she pinched her nipples.
He must have been watching because he hummed against her.
She twisted her head, careful not to lose contact with that delicious pressure. “Ah, yes.”
She actually felt him smile, but he did not remove his tongue, continuing to circle, tap, and lick.
Her voice was a rasp. “Yes, please, there, William. Ah, there!” She abandoned her breast play to grab his head and hold him against her. Her favorite way to orgasm was from external stimulation. The internal ecstasy was heightened by the sensation of her muscles and flesh throbbing against her partner and seeing that pleasure reflected in his eyes.
