A Measured Risk (37 page)

William had reached out to her in the only way he’d known. With his charm, his gentleness, his deference. His boyish face flashed into her mind with heart stopping clarity. His beautiful green eyes imploring hers…

Her chest grew tight. She felt the sharp bite of her nails in her palms.

Oh God…She’d been so cold. Cruel.

She hadn’t known how to reach back—she’d been so consumed by her own self-protection—and he’d retreated. Sought solace with other women.

When they had wed, he’d really been the next thing to a boy, tender-hearted—somewhat vain—but kind. The same age she was now…

She felt the release of anger within herself, the sudden lightening in an area of her heart that she hadn’t even realised had been oppressed.

William hadn’t possessed the wisdom and maturity to see beneath her prickly exterior. But that hadn’t been his fault, any more than it had been hers that she’d been too scared to risk making herself vulnerable to him.

However, Jon hadn’t given up so easily. Surely that counted for much. Far more than she’d been willing to place faith in, coward that she was.

Maybe it counted for everything. Maybe he would have grown bored with her in time. Left her alone on his estate while he chased muslin in London. Maybe she would never be able to give him all of herself and all of her trust as he wanted. However, she had thrown away a chance on having everything she’d ever wanted—and some things she’d wanted but had been unaware of, until he showed her. She’d given it up because she was afraid to trust. Most of all in herself
,
that she could fight to keep Ruel’s interest.

And his love.

A burning pain blossomed in her chest. She took a deep, hitching breath.

The person she had to learn to trust the most in this world was herself. And she’d come to the realisation too late. The burning sensation in her chest seemed to flame up into her throat, leaving a bitter, ashes-like taste. It gagged her. Choked her.

Too late.

Too damned late…

She bent her head into her hands and cried.

* * * *

With Nellie in her wake, Anne walked through the inn’s public room, uncomfortable under the staring male eyes. She looked forward to relaxing in her private dining room for an hour before they must get back on the road.

A tall gentleman approached. The lamplight shone on hair as blond as moonlight.

Her heart skipped a beat. Then fear tingled through her. She was losing her wits now. Seeing what she wanted to see.

She blinked. Hard. Then she refocused.

Jon’s azure gaze bore into her intently. Virile energy radiated from his powerfully built body.

Yet she couldn’t quite let herself believe… He advanced towards her. He stopped in front of her and took her gloved hand into his own large, leather covered ones and he certainly felt real. “I have rented a chamber upstairs. You’ll be far more comfortable there.”

He had come for her. He had not given up on her.

Joy had locked Anne’s rational mind and what little wit remained could only cling to her plans as the only solid, dependable thing in a daydream. “But-but, we have to travel four more hours today.”

He pressed her hand between his and shook his head, his expression resolute. “It will not do for your first day. We shall overnight here and I shall be with you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Of course you shall. But I need to keep travelling today.”

“You’re going with me upstairs and that’s all there is to it.” His expression turned resolute.

Her throat burned. He hadn’t let her push him away. He had come for her. Just as she had really wanted him to. Her heart overflowed into her throat, warm and melting, making speech too hard.

He had come for her.

“Well, Nan?” he asked.

“Is this gentleman bothering you, my lady?”

She glanced to her side and there stood a smartly dressed older gentleman she’d seen earlier in the courtyard. His clothes and no-nonsense brisk manner marked him as merchant class. Perhaps much like Mama’s Nabob.

Ruel tightened his hand on her arm as he fixed the man with a stern look.

“He’s my husband,” Anne hurried to say before Ruel could speak. What did a mere formality matter at this point? Any more than it mattered if she stopped here tonight or carried on. She had given herself a cushion of two days. She simply hadn’t felt like giving in right away.

The gentleman’s face relaxed and he smiled. “Well, I certainly shan’t interfere in a domestic matter.”

* * * *

Upstairs, Ruel pulled her into their private chamber and closed the door. “Did you mean it
,
Nan? Are you finally and completely mine now?” He cupped her face. “I warn you, if you say yes, I shall never let you go.”

She nodded, moving towards him, needing to be close to his hard
-
muscled body.

“Wait,” he said, touching the frogging on her pelisse. “Go and wait by the fire.”

She went to the hearth, where a cheery fire blazed and watched him shed his greatcoat. Then he went to the sideboard and poured them both a glass of claret. He came to her and handed her the glass. She took it but then pressed her face into his hand, kissing his palm.

“I love you, I love you.” The words poured from her. She couldn’t hold them back.

The skin crinkled around his eyes. “I love you too, wench.”

 
She didn’t want to drink. She wanted to connect with him. To please him. She licked his palm, hungry for the taste of him.

“Drink first,” he said, touching her face.

She tried to obey but ardent desire made her throat tight, making it hard to swallow. Finally, he took her half-finished glass away.

She dropped to her knees and began working the buttons on his fall. He pushed her hands away and tackled the buttons himself.

She kissed his cock’s tip, savouring the salty taste of his juices. Then, unable to wait, she opened her mouth wide and the silken head slid over her tongue. She moaned with satisfaction and greedily swallowed him completely.
 

His deep groan echoed in her ears as he grasped her hair and held her head, causing her heart to race. She’d known nothing sweeter than his familiar smell and taste.

His grip suddenly tightened on her hair. “That’s enough, wench.”

She relaxed her jaw and he popped from her mouth.

Shortly thereafter, a servant came and served them a light meal of fresh bread, cheese and apples then left. They sat at the small table in the corner of the chamber and ate it. He asked her questions about her journey and she answered in near one-syllable replies.

There seemed to be some tension between them, intruding on the joy of their reunion. Something nagged at her mind.

“You know what it will mean, us being married? You know what I expect from you?” He asked the question so calmly for such a sudden, serious turn of subject.

She dropped her gaze and nodded slowly.

“I want to hear you say yes, Nan.”

Apprehension tingled through her and her mouth dried. “Yes, Jon, I understand. I wouldn’t have come to this chamber with you, if I did not accept it.”

“Before we were parted, you disobeyed me.”

The four cups of punch at the party. How could she have forgotten? Shame swept over her.

“Yes, I did,” she said, hugging her shoulders.

He went behind her. “I want you to undress and I will have bath water sent up. You are to bathe and then wait for me without getting dressed.” The tugging motions told her he was unlacing her gown. “And leave your hair down.”

He had her gown removed in short order. Then he pulled her shift up.

“What do you intend to do?”

He showed her his hand. Silver glittered in his palm. Those hateful little weighted balls. “I can’t let you escape your punishment. Do you understand why, Nan?”

“Because I agreed to obey you?”

“Yes, I can’t let things like this go between us.”

An odd sense of relief swept over her, as if she had been waiting for this. Hoping for it. Her sex pulsed, her inner folds swelling, growing moist. He slid his hand up her thigh, slowly. He ran his fingertip over the crease between her thigh and her outer lips. “You’re getting wet for me?”

At his words, a sudden gush flooded between her legs. She bit her lip and nodded.

He touched her wetness, slipping his thumb over the erect little nub.

She gasped and a shudder of hunger raced through her.

“It was hard to be parted, wasn’t it?” He entered her with two fingers.

She moaned and nodded.

“Yes, it was hard for me too, love. I don’t think we should make a practice of it, do you?”

“No…” She caught her breath as he pushed the first cold, silver ball into her. Her cunt throbbed while dread twisted through her. She had hated those things before. She didn’t think she was going to like them much this time either. He’d said this was punishment.

He pressed the next one into her then moved his fingers, propelling the balls as deeply into her as they would go.

In the next moment, he knelt in front of her. The warm, wet of his tongue touched her, nub, licking, flicking, circling. It rose more erect, more swollen. She moaned and entwined her fingers into his silken, pale blond hair. He drew it into his mouth and sucked, forcing her right up to the point of straining for release. He nipped her.

Delicious shivers raced over her, she cried out sharply and closed her eyes. The first tingle overcame her.

But he stopped and moved away from her. “Don’t remove them. I will let Nellie come to you and assist you with your bath. And you’ll act normally while she’s here. I’ll come to you when I am ready. Remain unclothed and after she leaves, do not touch yourself.”

She lingered in the tub, thinking the warm water would soothe the unbearable ache. But it didn’t. She watched Nellie leave with profound relief that she could stop moving around, acting as if she weren’t in total sensual agony.

She lay on the bed and tried not to move but her cunt kept clenching, knocking those terrible little balls together and sending renewed surges of hunger through her.

Sweat drenched her body; wetness soaked the sheets beneath her. And the little clock seemed to tick off the moments with interminable slowness.

Finally, she heard his boots in the hall. She jolted to a sitting position. Painful desire jarred through her. She moaned and put a hand over her pelvic bone.

Jon’s voice carried through the door; he was speaking with Toby or maybe Nellie. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Just wanted him to come in.

The door came open, he entered and closed it. His expression gave nothing away. Her heart began to beat rapidly and flutters blossomed in her insides.

She remembered to look down and studied her hands.

“Stand up, Nan.”

“Jon…”

“Stand for me.”

She left the bed and stood slowly, trying without success to avoid jarring the devilish little balls.

“This will be real punishment. It’s going to be hard. It’s going to hurt.”

Of course. He was not going to let her get away without paying the price for her disobedience. Respect for him and a peculiar sort of gratitude settled over her. Her nipples grew tight and her cunt began pulling, a pleasurable ache swelling within her nub.

“Do you accept it, Nan?”

She nodded. “I understand. I accept it.”

“Good girl.” He sat on the bed. “Come, let’s not drag this out.”

Her breathing went shorter and faster. Apprehension, fear, arousal, all tingled through her in a dizzying rush. She let her feelings wash over her without examining them. She had decided to give her body and her heart into his keeping. She would trust in the moment and in him.

She began walking towards him. She lowered her gaze.