Jess Michaels (4 page)

She hissed in a breath, rolling and arching her hips against his in a harsh, circular motion. Her body stroked his cock so perfectly he felt like he could spend right then and there, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of taking what he was not ready to give.

He responded by spinning her around and cradling her backside against his hips as he glided his hand down the back
of her gown, his fingers popping the line of buttons there with practiced skill.

She arched as her dress fell forward, revealing the most sinfully sheer chemise he had ever seen.

Cassandra smiled when all of Nathan’s movements ceased. Ah, so he appreciated the erotic undergarment she had designed. It hadn’t been worn for some time, so she was glad its effect was as potent as ever. Reveling in the power such a simple thing could wield, she took advantage of his suddenly loosened grip and turned around, as she dropped her fine gown away.

The chemise was fitted just right—loose enough to skim suggestively over her skin, but tight enough that the transparent fabric revealed the swollen pink tips of her nipples and the shadow where her thighs met.

When she had put the undergarment on that morning, she had pretended it wasn’t for Nathan’s benefit. But now, as he stared, mouth slightly agape, she recognized what a foolish lie that had been. She had known exactly what would happen.

This garment was a way to retain power, to prove to him and to herself that she could steal his control and make him tremble.

“Very nice,” he finally murmured with a hard swallow, “as pretty as I remember you being.”

Without any further comment, he reached out and grasped the filmy fabric. With a downward jerking motion, he rended it in half, leaving the loose ends to flutter uselessly around her hips.

So much for power and control.

He looked her up and down as she pushed the torn fabric away. “Yes, very pretty, indeed.”

Then his body was against hers again. She had only managed to remove his overcoat in her haste and open a few of his shirt buttons. So she was naked while he remained fully clothed. When she reached up to remedy that discrepancy, he caught her hands and pulled them behind her back gently.

She hesitated as his lips found her throat and he began to swirl wicked patterns against her sensitive skin with his tongue. So this was his intent. To have her without even revealing himself to her. To not bother undressing since he had no intention of staying once he spent his lust and anger.

She didn’t fight when he spun her around so that her bare backside fit against his hips a second time. Through the woolen fabric of his trousers she felt the insistent, heavy length of his cock. He had been her first lover and her biggest one, as well. She shivered when she recalled all the masterful things he could do with that cock.

Her own words taunted her as he bent her over the settee and she felt his fingers slip between their bodies to loosen his trouser fastenings. She had said she wouldn’t pretend pleasure for his benefit, but there wasn’t going to be any pretending. Wet, sticky heat already betrayed her as it trickled down her inner thighs. Her nipples were sensitive as they rasped against the soft upholstered fabric of the settee, and she tensed when she felt the hot, thick head of his cock glide back and forth against her waiting opening.

But she clung to the idea that as much as he could play her body like a violin, even after all these years, she could do the same to him. So she thrust back, forcing his erection into her body.

Nathan’s fingers tightened against Cassandra’s hips, tight enough that he realized she might be bruised tomorrow. He had been teasing rather than taking for the simple reason that he thought he might lose all control the moment he entered her hot, tight sheath. Perhaps she had sensed that, perhaps she had wanted to unman him with a few heavenly squeezes of her slick inner walls.

But maybe her intent was far less Machiavellian. Perhaps she merely wanted him with the same desperation that churned in his gut. Perhaps she just couldn’t wait to feel him buried inside of her.

Either way, he thrust forward and let the final few inches of his cock slip deeply into her. Her back arched when his hips bumped the luscious curve of her backside. He shut his eyes and took a brief moment to wonder at the fact that being inside of her was as good as all his dreams.

It was better.

Then he shut his thoughts away and began to fuck her. Not make love to her, not take his time, he couldn’t do those things. No, he just wanted to feel the slide and pull of pounding in and out of her clenching channel.

Their skin slapped together as he slammed his body into hers, but he didn’t hear her complaining. In fact, she had long since stopped making coherent words and moved into a mix
ture of gasps, moans, and a few choice curses that he rarely heard women use.

She grew flushed and then her nails dug into the settee, her back arched, and she let out a cry that all but shook the room. Her pussy clenched so tight around him that he let out his own cry of pure pleasure. His seed began to move, his legs began to shake, and he pulled his cock from her body to milk the proof of his pleasure onto her skin rather than inside of her.

The room was silent for a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Then Cassandra stood from her splayed position bent over the little couch and turned toward him. She looked every inch the queen, nothing like the whore he had just treated her like.

“There, the bargain is sealed,” she said softly. She would have sounded unaffected, too, if not for the fact that her breath was still short and her skin still flushed from her powerful orgasm.

“It is,” he said as he buttoned his trousers and snatched up his jacket from the floor. It was tangled with her gown and he frowned as he shook the silky fabric away.

“When will you return?” she asked, gathering her own things and holding them in front of her naked body like a cloth shield.

He shrugged. “When I want you, I will be back. Be ready.”

Her eyes narrowed and he could see how much she wanted to bite out what would no doubt be a scathing set down, but she bit her lip and instead executed a curt nod.

“As you wish, Lord Blackhearth.”

Nathan winced. She hadn’t called him by his full title since the day they met, and that was too many years ago to count. It put an undeniable wall between them, higher than even his anger or his dismissive use of her body.

He shrugged. It didn’t matter. He had what he’d come for, after all. Let her stew.

“Good day, Miss Willows,” he said, as he swung the parlor door open and left her home.

It wasn’t until he settled into his plush carriage that he realized he had found his own pleasure only after she reached the height of hers. And that it had been his most powerful sexual experience in recent memory.

I
hear you saw Cassandra Willows.”

Nathan almost choked on his mouthful of venison. He coughed, covering his mouth, as he stared down the long dining table at his father.

The Marquis of Herstale was no longer the man of Nathan’s youth. He recalled his father as big, strapping, and capable of anything and everything. But two years of illness that culminated in near death just a few months before had stolen much from the man. Now he was a shadow of himself.

But as for power, the Marquis still had that, just not the physical kind. Nathan didn’t doubt the man had spies and confidantes all over London. Ones who had been watching
him
, apparently. And from the sounds of things, they knew
of his wicked visit to Cassandra the previous morning. How much more had they uncovered?

When Nathan could breathe again he took a bracing sip of red wine and said, “Where did you hear that?”

It wasn’t a direct denial; it wasn’t really an answer at all, but until he discovered what his father actually knew, he had no intention of accidentally revealing something.

“From me, dear heart,” his mother said from the other end of the table. “I was with you when we encountered
that woman
at your Aunt Worthington’s, remember?”

Relief massaged the tension from Nathan’s shoulders. Ah, yes, he’d all but forgotten the fact that his mother had been present that first, charged moment when he heard Cassandra’s voice and saw her face. They had not spoken of the encounter afterward, probably because his sisters were in the vehicle with them, and the two girls were far too young to recall the bitter past their family shared with the seamstress.

“That is why we wished to see you without your siblings present,” his father said, confirming what Nathan had already guessed. “This situation…”

Nathan interrupted with a wave of his hand. “Come now, that little moment at Aunt Bethany’s could hardly be called a ‘situation.’” Blackmailing Cassandra into being his sex slave could be, but what his parents didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

His mother shook her head. “I saw your face after she left, Nathan. An accidental encounter might not be a situation,
but your expression was, my dear.” She hesitated and her eyes were soft and kind. “Do you think yourself still in love with that girl?”

Nathan’s stomach tensed. Love. That was something he didn’t think much about. Since Cassandra had thrown him over, he didn’t believe he’d ever feel love again. Even now, the best he hoped for was to find a match with woman who was attractive to him, one he liked well enough to look at across the breakfast table every morning for the rest of his life. Someone who could provide him with children to carry on his family legacy.

Love was an entirely different weakness that he didn’t intend to explore ever again. Certainly not with Cassandra. He wouldn’t allow that to happen under any circumstances. For her, he would allow desire, of course. Anger, yes.

Nothing more.

“Philippa!” his father barked from his end of the table. “Let us not speak of such things.”

Nathan frowned. His father had been vocal about his disapproval of Nathan’s match with Cassandra all those years ago. It had caused a rift between them at the time that had grown ever wider when Nathan realized his father was right and she didn’t love him as she claimed. Apparently, thoughts of that troubled time still stung, because Arthur Manning was shifting in his chair uncomfortably.

Nathan raised a hand. “I will not deny that seeing Cassandra—Miss Willows—for the first time after all these years
was quite a surprise, but it was bound to happen. After all, she is a popular dressmaker amongst our circles. Now that the shock is over, I have everything under control. You two needn’t worry yourselves over her.”

He smiled in reassurance at both his parents, even as a niggling little voice from deep inside reminded him that he could hardly be called “under control” when it came to Cassandra. But ultimately, his blackmail would allow him to purge this ridiculous desire he had to feel her body under his, around his, riding his.

And then it
would
be over. On his terms this time.

His mother’s brow wrinkled slightly, as if she weren’t as sure of his statement as he pretended to be. But his father nodded with a grunt.

“Damn right,” the Marquis said, as he fidgeted with the stem of his wineglass. He didn’t look at Nathan. “You would be a damn fool to mix yourself up with that woman again. And love, Philippa, really! As if Nathan would ever love a woman who made a fool of him that way. Our son is far more intelligent than all that.”

Nathan felt his smile beginning to fall a fraction as his father spoke.

“He might have been lovesick once, but he learned his lesson. That woman can’t be trusted. She was a whore and she’s in trade, for God’s sake!”

His mother winced slightly at the blunt terms. “But she did choose that over ruining our son, so I suppose we must
give her credit for finally recognizing her true station in life. She could have destroyed Nathan’s future entirely if she had shown up at their rendezvous.”

Nathan shut his eyes as images bombarded him: Standing in the dark behind the village inn at midnight, his heart so full of love, his future so sure in his mind. Still standing there at one. At two. At three when the rain had begun to pour. It had been a cold, gray dawn before he finally stopped being an ass and returned home.

And there had been his father, awaiting his return, with a note he had somehow intercepted between Cassandra and another man. Her own words, ones she hadn’t ever intended him to see, had explained everything in blunt detail. They had shattered Nathan’s soul.

He opened his eyes with a growl of displeasure. He had stopped reliving that moment years ago, he wasn’t about to indulge in such maudlin activities again.

He pushed to his feet. “We all know what happened,” he snapped, as he tossed his napkin onto his half-eaten food. “There is no use discussing it. You don’t have to worry about Cassandra. Rest assured, there is no way I would ever let her into my heart to manipulate me again. Now if you will excuse me, this is not a topic I wish to discuss.”

His mother opened her mouth to respond, but Nathan silenced her with a brief kiss on the forehead before he exited the dining room and the house.

All these reminders of what had happened in the past only served to feed the anger and resentment that still boiled in
his chest. And there was only one person who deserved those bitter emotions.

So it was time to pay her another visit.

Cassandra sat on the high, cushioned stool and leaned over her worktable as she focused on stitching a fur lining onto a special pair of restraints. With everything that had been going on in her life the last few days, she was behind on her work, both as a seamstress and for her side business.

Damn Nathan for both those things. And now that she had no idea when he might barge into her life or summon her to demand sexual favors, she had to work doubly hard when he wasn’t around just to be certain she finished everything she was obliged to create. The last thing she needed was to fall behind and lose face with her customers. Some of them were very unforgiving.

Just like Nathan. She sighed as she straightened up. After all this time, he still hated her. Enough that he might very well destroy her. And yet the hot desire that had always existed between them remained. It had certainly given a harsh edge to the sex between them the day before. She had never made love to a man who could hardly stand her before. With a shiver, she tried to forget the rough slide of Nathan’s cock inside of her and refocus instead on the restraints.

The door opened behind her and she turned. Her butler stood in the doorway, his face a mask of upset.
“He
has returned, Miss Willows,” the man said without preamble.

The item in her hand clattered down onto the worktable and Cassandra stifled a curse. There was no need to explain who “he” was. It was abundantly clear. “Let him come in,” she said. There was no denying him.

The servant opened the door, but before he could move, Nathan pushed past him into her work area for the second time in a week.

“Tell him that when I come, I am allowed to see you, no matter where you are,” he ordered without even acknowledging that the servant remained in the room.

Cassandra pushed to her feet and stared at him evenly while the heat of embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She rather liked her servants and hated to have them see her in such a dominated position.

“Tell him,” Nathan repeated.

She set her jaw as she said, “Wilkes, whenever Lord Blackhearth comes to call, please make sure he is sent to me directly. He does not need announcement or permission.”

The butler’s eyes went wide at the order, but then he bowed his acknowledgment. “Yes, Miss Willows. Will you need anything else tonight?”

She shook her head. “It is late. You may retire, as may the other servants. Good night.”

Her servant cast a second glance at Nathan, but then he left the room.

“There is no need to be cruel,” Cassandra said softly, as she moved passed Nathan and closed the door that Wilkes had
left open out of some kind of desire to protect her. As if he could. “I am giving you what you want.”

When she turned around, she jumped in surprise. Nathan had her crowded up against the door and was now less than an inch away. He bracketed his hands against the surface behind her and leaned in so that his hot breath stirred her hair.

“Cruel?” he murmured, as his lips brushed the delicate, sensitive skin behind her ear.

Cassandra sucked in a breath as pleasure arced from the point of contact and hardened her nipples in an instant. Clearly, Nathan remembered a great deal about how to arouse her. Long ago he had teased her, saying he would keep her in line with just kisses against her neck. Now, that seemed prophetic rather than amusing.

“You have no idea of cruelty,” he said, as he grasped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged ever so gently.

She arched, hating her body for betraying his effect on her. And wanting more of him. More of everything.

He pushed away from her, as if he sensed her desire and was determined to deny her for a little while. He paced away and looked around the room. He froze when his gaze settled on her worktable.

Cassandra had never been ashamed of her side business. She protected it, but not because she thought it was wrong. She just knew the consequences if talk of her toys became too loud.

But the way Nathan’s mouth twisted in disapproval made
her gaze flit away from him and more heat flood her cheeks. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the items she had created: the half-finished restraints, the open lockbox on the table that held a few dildos, a scrap of fabric that was on its way to being a scandalous piece of lingerie. They were the tools of lusty men bent on having their every desire.

A bit like the one before her.

“Working late, eh?” he asked, lifting the restraints and turning to dangle them on one finger in her direction.

She pursed her lips. “I have no choice. Since you insist that I be available to you at your discretion, I must use whatever time I do have to myself to fulfill my obligations. These people have paid me a great deal of money in exchange for their goods. It would be wrong of me to renege on my promise to deliver.”

“How nice that you keep your word for money. Perhaps if I had only paid you, you would have shown up all those years ago,” he said, his voice chilly. “Do you have a pair of these that are finished?”

Cassandra couldn’t help raising her brows in surprise. Then she smoothed the reaction from her face. He wanted to shock and embarrass her. There was little she could do to prevent him from taking what he desired, but at least she could deny him this one satisfaction.

“Yes, upstairs.”

Now his brows lifted. “Your own personal collection?”

She nodded, the motion difficult in the face of his intense scrutiny. “Yes.”

“Lead the way,” he said, motioning his hand toward the door with false gallantry. “I want to see the toy box of the master toy maker herself.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm, but said nothing. Instead, she turned and opened the parlor door, leading the way to her chamber upstairs in anything but companionable silence. Before she pushed the door open, she drew a deep breath.

This room was her sanctuary, her private escape. There was no denying Nathan access, but once he had been inside, she knew she would never see the room the same way again. He would burn his presence into every inch of space until he stifled her.

But she had no choice. She had to let him in…in every way, or suffer the consequences.

So she opened the door and motioned for him to enter.