Josie Dennis (4 page)

He smiled. “My father’s staff is quite obedient. And most satisfied, I flatter myself to add.”

Something curled in her belly, a mixture of shock and intrigue. “You are despicable.”

“Nevertheless, will you give me leave to finally take what you offered last year?”

Anger flashed through her. She raised her hand to slap him, and he grabbed her wrist.

“You want to get fucked, Isabella. And you want me to do it.”

His bold statements caused a shiver deep within her. “No.”

He pulled back, his dark brows snapping together. “Tell me you didn’t give yourself to that dull stick James Morris.”

“James is not…No, I did not!”

He smiled and she saw a flicker of something other than lust in his dark eyes. “Good.” He turned her, pressing her against the rough wall at her back. “I promise you will not regret the loss.”

As he kissed her she tried to keep a hold on her thoughts. His taste, his expertise, sent everything but raw sensation from her. The loss, she mused. Of her virginity? Or of her soul?

Frederick felt his cock grow hard against Isabella’s lithe body. He breathed in her fresh, sweet scent, biting back a sigh. She hadn’t given herself to that dolt Morris. She hadn’t let him plow her pussy until she screamed. Well, tonight
he
was going to do that and more.

“Come, love,” he murmured. “I want to show you everything.”

She gave him a shaky nod, thankfully missing the endearment he’d tossed out as if it wasn’t the first time he’d ever uttered the word.

He turned her from the hallway leading to the secret chamber and urged her toward his suite of rooms.

She craned her neck as she peered back. “What is in there?”

My father fucking the new maid.
“Nothing of import, Isabella. Let’s go to my chamber.”

Isabella’s expression made Frederick’s body tremble. She wore growing knowledge on her exquisite face, open curiosity about everything he wanted to do to her.

He’d never felt desire like this, like a weakness in his very marrow. He’d been with countless women before, some quite beautiful, yet there was something about this particular woman. He recalled the orgasm he’d given her last year—her first, if he were to wager a guess. How he’d stopped himself from taking her that night he had no notion. He’d never denied himself a pussy he wanted, before or since.

He opened the door to his chamber and made little work of stripping her nightdress and wrapper from her body. She was everything he’d imagined since their night together. High breasts topped with pink nipples a shade darker than he’d supposed on one so fair. A tiny waist with a sweet little navel that made his tongue tingle. He pulled her close, cupped her round bottom, and lifted her off her shapely feet.

“Frederick!”

It was delightful to hear his name come from her. He never gave a wench the leave to do so, but with Isabella it felt right.

“Ah, Isabella.”

He spread her beneath him on the wide bed and tore at his own clothes, frantic now. He brought his mouth to her breasts and sucked until she pulled at his hair. Her taste, her texture, drove him mad.

She spread her thighs wide for his touch, and he delved first one then two fingers within her. She was soaking wet, heartbreakingly tight. He glanced at her face, taking in her cheeks awash with color, her eyes closed as she took in shallow breaths through her full lips.

“Lick me, Frederick.” She sighed.

He stilled. She’d indulged with Morris that way, then? He longed to taste her himself but would surely disgrace himself if he dared to do so now. No. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to feel the paradise drenching his fingers wrapped tight around his cock.

He shifted and pushed inside of her. She clutched at his shoulders, letting out a gasp as he breached her maidenhead. Something gripped him, around his heart and deep in his chest. She now clung to him as he moved slowly. He took her with a care he’d never shown before, never longed to consider. In the next instant she came around him and he gave in to his own startling climax.

Bracing himself on his arms, he stared down at her as she regained her senses.

“Oh, Frederick,” she gasped.

He kissed her lips and touched his brow to hers. “You’ve given yourself to me, Isabella.” He took in a breath, smelling their scents mingling. “You belong to me now.”

Her eyes snapped open and she glared up at him. It seemed incongruous, as she still wore the soft look of satisfaction everywhere else but in her eyes. “I belong to you?”

She pushed him away and he withdrew with regret and not a small bit of irritation. “Who can claim you, then? Do not say you prefer to give yourself to Morris.”

Sitting up, she trembled with visible ire. “No man can claim me. Not James Morris and certainly not you!”

He rolled away, stunned. He could only watch as she grabbed her nightdress and wrapper from the floor and draped them over that remarkable body. An angry Isabella was as captivating as an aroused one, and Frederick could make no objection as she faced him from the door.

“Good night, Frederick.”

With that, she breezed into the hallway. And out of his life, were he to guess.

“Like hell,” he muttered.

He placed his hands behind his head. There was something between her and Morris. That was clear to him. She might not have given that man her maidenhead, but she was fighting another kind of attachment. For the first time in his memory, he was more jealous of a man’s hold on a woman’s heart than on her body.

Her scent hung in his chamber, tangy and sweet, and he breathed in deeply. He’d never taken the same woman twice, not even the maids at his ready disposal at the abbey. Yet he craved Isabella. Since touching her last year he’d managed to set her from his mind, for the most part. Now that he’d had her? He wouldn’t give her up.

Not to James Morris or any other man. Even if he had to marry her. Hell, even if he had to share her.

She would be in his bed again. He smiled in the dark. God, he couldn’t wait.

* * * *

Isabella rose after the others, or so she surmised when she found the breakfast room empty. She picked at her food, her stomach churning. What had she been thinking? The moment she’d come upon Frederick in that darkened corridor she should have run screaming to her own chamber. She’d come awake, her mind filled with both James and Frederick and the way they made her feel things an unmarried virgin had no right to feel. Her lip curled. Well, she was no longer a virgin. Frederick had taken care of that.

She gazed out at the frozen gardens and considered hiding out there for about a minute before thinking better of that plan. Catherine was no doubt occupied with her husband. And Frederick’s brother, of course. Was Frederick right? Did the two men both make love to Catherine? No, it was too much to contemplate. Henry was simply devoted to the couple as a fond friend. He took enough trips into the village near Thorne Manor. Surely he eased his needs there. Oh, she had no cause to think about a man’s needs!

“Naughty girl,” she softly chided herself.

She strolled into the cavernous library, touching a shelf here and there as she sought to settle her unease. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe the care Frederick had showered upon her last night was indicative of anything other than lust. James had given her as much pleasure, and he’d had no trouble staking a claim on her as Frederick had attempted to do as well. Now her body had known both of them, James’s magical tongue and Frederick’s amazing manhood. Her dreams last night had been filled with both of them, first separately loving her and then together. Surely Frederick’s outrageous suppositions had colored her unconscious. Although the thought of Frederick’s teasing lips on her breasts while James licked her…

“What has you hiding in here?” James asked as he entered the room.

She started and turned, her cheeks going pink. “James!”

He smiled at her, appearing as affable and handsome as she’d ever seen him.

“Ah, that is the first time you’ve spoken to me since our night together,” he said.

She glanced toward the hallway beyond, relieved when she saw no one accompanied him. “Do not speak of it, pray.”

“I won’t.” He came closer. “I’ve had several days to think about it, however. I was presumptuous to think to claim you for my own, Isabella. At least until I make a formal offer.”

“Oh, no.” She gasped and sank onto the nearest chair. “You cannot. It’s not right.”

He looked hurt by her words. “I know I don’t have a large fortune. But do you not care for me?”

She did. More than she could put into words now that he was before her. “I do. But I cannot marry you. Not now.”

“When?” Hope showed in his blue eyes. “Name the date and I shall wait eagerly at the altar.”

He misunderstood her, then. “No, James. Not now that I’ve…” She took in a breath and forged ahead. “Not now that I’ve been with Frederick.”

“That cur forced himself on you?” Anger showed on his face, a fire she’d never seen there. “I’ll kill him!”

She stood and rushed to him, grabbing his arms as he turned to go. “No! You mustn’t do that. Frederick didn’t force me.”

He stiffened then nearly sagged in her arms. “That’s it, then. You belong to him.”

She dropped her hands from him. “That is quite enough. I don’t belong to him any more than I do to you. Oh, what is it with the two men in my life believing they can own me?”

“The two men in your life?”

The familiar voice came from the doorway. She turned to find Frederick standing there, looking as delicious as she’d left him in his bed last night. He closed the door, locking it with flick of his wrist. Her heart began to pound.

“Frederick, we shouldn’t be in here together,” she said.

His brow arched. “And yet you can be here with Mr. Morris? Telling, that.”

There was something beneath his carefree tone, something she didn’t dare name. In the next moment she was certain it was just jealousy, plain and simple.

“I meant with the door closed.” She turned to James. “That goes for you as well, James.”

His eyes rounded. “You tell me this bastard took advantage of you and yet you say you can’t be alone with me?”

“Took advantage?” Frederick countered. “She was a willing participant, believe me. Tell him, Isabella. Tell him how you spread your legs for me. How much you enjoyed having my cock deep inside of you.”

James punched Frederick in the face. “How dare you?”

Frederick stumbled and rubbed his cheek then gave James a nod of grudging respect. “That is rich, coming from the man who’s had his face in her pussy.”

She gasped. How did Frederick know that? Oh, she’d begged him to do the same just last night. Shame washed over her, though it was swiftly eclipsed by anger.

“I will not have this discussion now,” she said, going for the door. “If you two wish to pummel yourselves have at it. I, for one, prefer a walk in the frigid gardens to staying here with either one of you.”

She unlocked the door and left them as she’d left Frederick last night. Let either one of them think to follow her. She’d thrash the both of them herself.

James watched Isabella go, then closed the door behind her. She’d given herself willingly to the reprobate, then. No doubt without some heavy persuasion on Frederick’s part.

“You seduced her,” he said, facing his adversary.

Frederick shrugged. “Think that if you must.”

James thought of that night he’d nearly made love to her, regret stabbing at him. “I should have taken her first. She would be mine now.”

“I doubt that. Isabella is not like any other women you’ve known, Morris. Hell, she’s not like any I’ve known, and I’ve known plenty.”

“No doubt.”

The other man smiled. “And yet all of my experience leaves me as befuddled as you with your lack of it.”

“I am not without experience,” James admitted.

“You ate her pussy,” Frederick allowed. “That is not usually indicative of a man’s first time with a woman.”

Of its own accord, James’s mouth watered. “She is as sweet as…” He stopped himself, his cheeks hot. “I refrained from taking her.”

“More fool you,” Frederick said. “She rose to meet my every thrust.”

“Do not speak of her like one of your doxies. What do you think to do now? Share her with your father as you do your maids?”

Frederick blinked. “You know of that, then? I take it your sister told you.”

“Catherine? No. Your brother, actually.”

Frederick nodded. “Henry never cared to participate, although I wager he’s quite changed his mind on the subject.”

James narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

Frederick poured them each a drink, obviously taking his time to answer. “Quite cozy out at Thorne Manor, aren’t they?”

James thought about what the man wasn’t saying. Henry was obviously quite fond of Catherine, as fond as her husband. Surely they wouldn’t both—

“Are you saying they share her?”

“Why not? I would, if the conditions were right.”

“No attachments, no doubt.” James scoffed. “There is love between my sister and her husband, Frederick.”

“And my brother is odd man out? I seriously doubt that.”

“I won’t discuss my sister’s marriage with you. Your father shamed her last year.”

“That was not my doing.”

“And yet you and he…Tell me you won’t do so with Isabella.”

“I would never let another man touch her.”

His vehemence stunned James. “Yet you know I have taken liberties and that doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“You care for her, James,” he said, draining his drink. “She cares for you as well.”

James was befuddled. “What?”

“Yes, I fucked her.” He held up a hand when James opened his mouth to object. “It was amazing and something I long to do again. I’ve never taken the same woman twice, James. Do you know that? And yet I’d take her again and again. Perhaps forever.”

“Forever?” James scoffed. “Do not say you wish to marry her.”