Bold Seduction (7 page)

“Perform?” she gasped. The confused look on her face turned to anger. Living flame cracked to life in her eyes. “How dare you?”

He would not be cowed by her flash of temper. “You were paid to provide a service. I am merely an assignment, a task to be completed as you await transport back to your den of sin. I should have stayed firm in my original conviction on this matter. Why did you take the job? Surely you had harlots aplenty you could have sent in your stead?”

She reached for the nearby blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Fury rolled off her as her face flushed a deep crimson. The simmering rage that lurked within burst forth.

“For a supposedly educated man you are quite stupid,” she snapped. “Why did I take this job? I wanted to escape my ‘den of sin’ prison for a few days. I figured a thirty-year-old virgin, which in itself is rather pathetic, wouldn’t notice my lack of enjoyment in the act. To be blunt, I wanted the money. Your friends paid a tidy sum. I wanted it all for myself.” Phil scrambled to her feet, and he did as well. His erection deflated, his burning passion reduced to ash.

“Yes. Pathetic. It is a term I am very familiar with. Women have tossed the word at me before. Why should you be any different? Let us say here and now your contract is fulfilled. You’ve earned your coin. I think it wise we try and avoid each other for the rest of your stay.” He gave her a stiff and formal bow. “Goodnight,
madam
.”

He placed deliberate emphasis on the last word. How could he have forgotten that salient fact? She sold sex for profit. Laid with men for money. He let his long buried emotions believe more existed between them.

Never again. He stalked from the room then slammed the door behind him.

* * * *

An hour later and still an aching disappointment twisted Phil’s insides. Devil take it, his words bloody hurt. She had retired to her dusty room and now sat before the fire, wearing her woolen nightgown, replaying the incident downstairs. Curling her bare feet under the garment, she watched the flames dance and sputter in the hearth.

Perhaps she should not have called him pathetic, but how dare he call what passed between them these last days a performance?
What did I do or say to have him become angry?
She had stopped thinking of this as an “assignment” or “job” from the first time she heard his luxurious, velvet voice. It solidified after she shaved him and the beguiling face underneath the spectacles and facial hair was revealed.

He no longer wore the glasses in her presence. A slight smile curved about her lips. Phil found his lack of guile fascinating and sweet. His innocence touched a part of her heart she thought would never be breached. How to make him understand?

She exhaled a shaky breath. Why bother? Even if they followed through on the feelings bubbling between them, nothing could ever come of it. Spence was the educated and refined third son of a duke with clear plans for an academic career. How could a prossie fit into that world? She couldn’t--not ever.

A crash sounded from his room next door followed by a colorful curse. Enough of brooding and nursing hurt feelings; she rose and moved toward the connecting door. Did he lock it? She turned the handle and slipped in. Spence faced the fireplace, his hands gripping the mantel, his head bent as if deep in thought.

“Go away, Miss McGrattan.” His voice was weary and distant.

“No, I won’t. Do you think me unfeeling, so crafty in my machinations I would reveal deep parts of my past to elicit a response from you? Or did you think I made up the whole sordid incident? That every word I spoke was a lie? Do you think me such an automaton I felt nothing when you kissed me? When you touched me? You are the only man in all these wretched years that has made me feel anything! There, a confession. You made a whore feel. Not many men can lay claim to that. Be proud in your accomplishment. Savor it. Brag to your brothers and friends that you brought a prossie to her knees in surrender from the sound of your voice alone!” She was yelling now, her voice alive with conflicting emotions, such as anger, doubt, and compassion. Phil dashed away the few tears from her flushed cheeks. “I am not ashamed of what I feel, nor will I deny it. If you wish me to stay in my room the rest of the week, speak your piece. Stop doubting yourself. Yes, you are inexperienced. Did you not stop to consider I find that endearing? I’m sorry I said pathetic. God, I could rip out my bloody tongue….”

Spence turned and strode toward her. He stood close enough for her to drown in his enticing scent. Cupping her cheeks, he leaned in and nuzzled her neck, his warm breath feathering across her sensitive skin. “Forgive me. Absolve this lonely, sad man with no confidence in himself and whose eyes did not see or whose ears did not hear. Who let past experiences cloud what is between us and had no idea how to deal with the innumerable emotions passing though him? I did not trust you; I did not trust myself. Forgive me.” He rested his forehead against hers and a great sob left her throat. They were in each other’s arms, embracing tight, sharing their heat and regrets.

“Oh, Spence. What happens now?”

He tucked her head under his chin, stroking her hair. “We take pleasure in the time we have. As you said, we take the journey together. Do you forgive me?”

She burrowed closer to the hard warmth of his chest. “Yes. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes. I’ve borne humiliation all my life. I could not abide more. I lashed out to protect myself.”

Phil held him tighter. “I would never hurt you. As I said, I have not lied to you, Spence. Not once.”

“I know. Will you come and lay with me? I wish to hold you for a while.”

Curling up next to him, she gloried in the feather softness of the bed in contrast to the solidity of his long, elegant body. How comforting to lie in his embrace. They did not speak for a long time. Resuming their physical explorations at this time did not seem appropriate, but she did have a few questions. “You speak of past humiliations, in what way? You told me of the girl at the party.”

He stroked her arm. “You do not want to hear this.”

“I do, Spence. It made you into the man you are today.”

He laughed, the melodic tone sparking her nerve endings. “You mean a shy hermit who avoids civilization, preferring the company of dogs and books over human contact? There were many incidents. Sent away to school at twelve, I was entirely out of my element. I need some sort of order to my life and a familiarity of my surroundings. No one in my family understood this, nor could I properly explain it.

Thankfully my brothers, Harrison and Tremain, were also at school and did their best to protect me from the worst of the bullying.” A broken sigh escaped his throat. “One horrific incident had me bent over a chair, my breeches pulled down to my knees. The older lads had already caned me, now came the ultimate disgrace. I was about to be violated either by one of them or by an inanimate object. I do not know what would have been worse.”

Phil held him tighter as a lump formed in her throat. Sorrow for his childhood traumas swamped her, causing her eyes to grow moist. “Oh, Spence. That is terrible. What happened?” she whispered.

“Tremain, older than me by one year, stepped into the room. He fought them off. How embarrassing to be found in such a vulnerable position. My brother helped me right my clothes and wiped the tears from my cheek. We never spoke of the episode again. To this day, Tremain is not only my brother, but my good friend.” He shook his head and stared off, his expression haunted. “I found myself in other situations during the next couple of years, but nothing as mortifying as the one I have described. I had been at school for less than a month. I could have screamed and cried and demanded to be sent home. However, Tremain told me to hold my head high and not to show fear. I did as he instructed. And with each incident, I withdrew. Hiding my emotions. It became part of who I am. I do not understand it, but I have revealed more to you these last couple of days than I have to anyone, including my family.”

Why did life have to be so bloody hard? It seemed even those with wealth and privilege had to struggle to survive. Perhaps Spence had the right of it, hiding away from society, pursuing his passion for research and history. The shocking thing? She very easily could join him in this self-imposed isolation. What a wonderful dream. One that could never come true. But why not enjoy their brief time together as he said?

“Spence, I know you do not want my sympathy, but I am sorry you were exposed to such cruelty. The world is a harsh place. For a time, let us leave it behind us.” She moved her hand across the fall of his trousers, and he hardened under her touch. “Let us give each other--gratification.”

How predictable his reaction was to her touch. Spence allowed the wave of lust to cover him from head to toe. Every nerve ending in his body sparked with a life of its own. He had no way of knowing if this reaction could be construed as normal. It could be because he remained a virgin all these years. Could any woman’s attentions have him reacting like this? Somehow, he doubted it.

Five years before, while drinking snifters of brandy, he had a personal and revealing conversation with his older brother, Harrison. Harry certainly indulged in female company from all classes of society. He did confide most of the experiences were empty and meaningless, a way to tame and satisfy his overactive libido. Spence concluded that sex must be a cold and empty task, and it made him more determined to avoid it.

But
this.
Phil slid her delicate hand across his crotch in a purposeful manner. He hardened further. His breathing grew ragged, his excitement on the edge of losing control. A low, savage sound rumbled deep in his chest.

“I will confide to you, Spence. Thanks to my circumstances, I became determined not to end up a bunter, which is the lowest type of prostitute who begs, fucks, and even lives in the streets. If I was to do this, it would be on my terms, like dictating the type of sex, choosing my customers, and placing a time limit on my services. It is a business, nothing more.”

Phil squeezed him, and he groaned in response. “Seems a rather intimate business.”

She shrugged. “To some, not to me.”

“Are you saying you felt nothing in all your assignations?”

She continued to stroke his stiff-as-a-pike prick. “Most men do not last more than a few minutes, which is fine by me. But I have come across a rare few who had the stamina to last an hour or more. In those instances, I came close to experiencing some sort of pleasure. But it remained a fleeting ghost of a response.”

“How is that possible? The stamina, I mean.”

“A wise woman told me once in the matters of sex, the mind plays a large role. You can learn to control your physical responses.”

“Is that what you did? Learn to shut out pleasure?”

She halted in her stroking. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Spence cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. “And are you doing it now?”

She covered his hand with hers and gazed into his eyes. Her look softened, her eyes turning liquid. “No. Not with you.”

That heartfelt confession made his chest puff out in masculine pride. It also touched him within the depths of his soul. Try as he might, he could not close himself off from Philomena McGrattan, nor did he want to. “Can you show me and teach me how to--last?”

A sly, sensual smile curved about her mouth. With a decided swiftness, she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them and his smalls past his hips. She sat back and examined his cock as if it were a strange specimen. “A good size. Long, but not too much as to overwhelm. There is no correlation between size and performance, you know. The customer I told you about with the stamina? His cock was rather insignificant in length and girth, but he knew how to wield it.”

Spence chuckled. “You talk as if he were a sword.”

She chuckled. “Well, swords and sheaths are terms used frequently with regards to sex.” Phil gripped his cock tight, and his body trembled in response. “A decent width. Most women do like the feeling of a man inside her, filling and stretching her.” She rubbed him twice. “Now, I want you to tell me when you are on the precipice of ecstasy.”

“I’m there now,” he moaned.

Her husky, sensual laugh trickled down his spine as cooling drops from a spring rain. “The idea is to bring you to the very edge, then cease. Have your mind control your need to climax. Clench inwardly, that also works I’m told.”

Phil started with an unhurried movement by fisting his cock tight, then rolling her hand back and forth until the swollen head peeked out of his foreskin. Truth be told, he was rigid and ready to blow, but did as instructed while she increased the pace and pressure of her grip. Like any youth he often masturbated. Not much of late, and it was never as wonderful as this.

The pressure built in his bollocks, his breathing ragged. “Stop!” He panted.
I am damn close to spilling.

Phil let go. His erect cock lay on his stomach like a living thing, twitching, swollen, and ready to burst. “There. Take deep breaths. In a few minutes we shall try again.”

“Vixen. You are taking pleasure from tormenting me.”

“Perhaps a little. Spence, I believe you will turn out to be an amazing lover.”

“And when will we test that theory, later tonight?”
Pray, let it be so.
Never did he want to be inside a woman as much as he did at this moment.

She shook her head, her sleek, black hair falling about her shoulders. “Not tonight, but soon. After I bring you to your release, can we try…with me?” She sounded tentative, shy in her request.

“Anything,” he rasped. On that note, she clutched him again and stroked. When she cupped his bollocks, he nearly came out of his skin. Phil trailed a finger under his sac, and he moaned in response as his body shook with raw lust. His insides were aflame, burning with an almighty heat as if he would combust from within.

Spence clenched as she’d instructed, biting on his bottom lip and tasting blood. He held nothing back. His voice grew hoarse from the groans and demands that she fist him tight, move faster, and make him come. How many minutes passed? No idea, as he lost all sense of time and place. “That’s it. Come for me, Spence.”