The Copper and the Madam (12 page)

He stood and sauntered toward her. Pulling
the tie of her dressing gown, he pushed the silk garment off her
shoulders until it hit the floor. The luminance of her alabaster
skin stunned him afresh. He laid hot, passionate kisses on her
neck. He lowered the thin strap of her nightgown then did the same
with the other. She held the garment to her body.

He moved behind her and kissed and caressed
her shoulders until soft moans escaped her lips. She rested her
head against his chest.

Rhiannon faced him and let go of the gown. It
pooled at her feet, leaving her gloriously naked. His already
throbbing cock hardened to iron. She brushed her fingers across his
erection.

“Rory, I want to give you pleasure. Here.
Orally.”

He froze.
No
. No one had ever taken
his cock in her mouth. The thought of it filled him with
abhorrence. Too many horrid memories were tied to that particular
sex act.

He stepped back, but Rhiannon would not let
him escape. She stepped forward and grasped his shaft.

“I know you have trepidations. I want us to
try, as we did with me. We will keep eye contact the whole time. We
must move past these reminiscences if there is to be something real
and lasting between us.”

Her bravely spoken words rang with honesty
and sincerity. Bloody hell, could there be something permanent
between them? The possibility filled him with solid hope and a
tender yearning.

“What about you? Can you do this? Can you put
your mouth on my cock?”

She stroked him. “In my few years as a whore,
this was my main duty. I believe I became quite skilled. I did not
like it then. But I believe with you—I will.” She let go and took
his hand, pulling him toward the bed. “Let us try, Rory.
Please.”

Hell and flames
. For her, he would
crawl through fire. He nodded and let her lead him to the bed. He
stood still as she undressed him, the place strangely quiet.

“Are there no customers tonight?”

Rhiannon shook her head. “I’m closed until
tomorrow night. I made the arrangements before I left on the train.
I am not sure what will become of The Blind Cupid. I have lost a
good many clients, thanks to Desmond’s departure and poor
Gordon....” She sighed. “My highest paying customer, a dowager
countess, has left due to Desmond. She was quite despondent in her
letter and unforgiving.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “A dowager? How
old is the woman?”

Rhiannon continued to unbutton his shirt.
“Near seventy, I believe.”

God above, how could Desmond even think—he
swallowed hard, dismissing the disturbing images rolling through
his brain.

She pushed the shirt off his shoulders. “We
all have needs, no matter what the age or appearance of a person. I
saw to it the desires were fulfilled. For a price.”

She explored every inch of his exposed chest.
Damn, her touch. He wanted her caressing him for always.

“Is there a price between us?”

“No—and yes. I think the price exacted will
be our hearts. I have kept mine hidden away for many years.”

She spoke the truth. His heart had been
hidden as well. At times, he doubted he even possessed one. It beat
furiously in his chest at this moment. Rhiannon had awakened it
from its slumber. She reached for the buttons on his trousers and
pushed them down along with his britches. He stepped out of
them.

“You are well put together, Rory. So very
tall, so very large in all the right places.”

Good Christ, she was seducing him. His cock
twitched in happy response.

She explored the curve of his hipbones and
the musculature of his torso with her fingertips.

“Come, lie on the bed,” she whispered.

He did, anticipation and dread fighting with
each other for control. The room glowed from the fire and a gas
sconce on the far wall. The golden hue enhanced her natural
beauty.

Rhiannon straddled his knees. She lay down
flat on his legs.

“Rory. Fix your eyes on me. It will be me
sucking on your long, beautiful, big cock.”

She grasped him at the root and licked him
from the stem to the swollen head.
I can do this
. He did as
she bade and kept his gaze fixed on her. Rhiannon’s silky blond
hair brushed his legs. Her mouth closed over his girth, and he
fought with the wretched memories and willed them back. No longer
was he the confused little lad cowering in the corner of the filthy
room while his mother serviced her customers. Banishing the past
had been difficult; shadows still lingered. He gave himself over to
the sensations of his cock encased in Rhiannon’s hot, wet, talented
mouth. A groan escaped him.

She stopped. “Yes, Rory. Enjoy.
I’m
doing this to you.
I
am sucking your shaft.”

Sweet Jaysus, her words. He groaned again.
She continued with the oral pleasures, her countenance still
resolved and determined. Yes, Rhiannon. The woman who had
stimulated and stirred his heart and desire. His hips rose off the
bed and thrust in concert with the swirls of her tongue. The wave
hit him without warning. He cried out, maybe he said her name, he
couldn’t be sure. Cum poured down her throat. When at last he
stilled, Rhiannon sat upright. She lifted one finger and swiped a
drop of his mettle from the corner of her mouth as she smiled.

That one action, of all bloody things, had
his stomach drop clear to the floor and his heart flood with
emotion. He had fallen in love. Hard. Denying this vast expanse of
feelings had been part of his life these last few years. No more.
The temptation to scream that he loved her was soon tempered with
common sense.
Don’t rush it, lad. Tread lightly. At least, for
tonight.

Rhiannon reached for the cloth from the table
by the bed. She cleaned him, her flannel-covered hand moving over
his cock, which stirred in her grasp. She laid the cloth aside and
curled up next to him.

“Are you all right, Rory?” she questioned as
she caressed his chest. He stroked her arm in response.

“Aye, I am. More right than I’ve been for
some time.”

They lay together in quiet companionship.
Touching and reveling in the peace and contentment. In this quiet
contemplation, Rory, ever the detective, made a mental list of the
reasons he and Rhiannon might make a go of it. The more he weighed
the pros and cons, the more he realized his reasons for dismissing
the possibility before had no merit. Not when his heart swelled
with so much love.

“Rhiannon, would you consider giving this up,
your brothel?”

“And do what, exactly?”

Feck it. So much for treading lightly
.
“Marry me.”

Her hand stilled. She remained unmoving and
far too silent.

“Cat got your tongue, darlin?”

“You do not want to marry me, Rory. I will be
thirty-five next month. You need a younger, more respectable woman
who can give you a proper home and children. Not a fat....”

He laid two fingers on her lips to silence
her. “Don’t bloody well start that, Rhiannon. You are pleasing to
me, lush and luxurious and all woman. There is no reason we can’t
have a proper home and children. Why waste any more time? Neither
of us is getting any younger. Sell this place and marry me.”

Marriage? The thought was laughable. Then why
did she feel like crying? She pulled away from his touch and sat up
straight. Rory spoke the truth about one thing. Having a low
opinion of her body had been deeply ingrained. From her fat
childhood to her current Rubenesque shape, she had a hard time
reconciling the fact he found her striking and pleasing. From now
on, she would banish the horrible memories of cruel childhood
taunts comparing her to a hippopotamus.
I am a voluptuous,
sensual woman
. The words gave her strength.

She exhaled a shaky breath. “You have a
career. How will it look if you marry a whoremonger?”

“I will confess something, darlin’. I am
ambitious. I have every intention of moving up the ranks of the
Metropolitan Police Department. I will be marrying Rhiannon Davies
from Wales, not Abbess Rea, the madam of The Blind Cupid. With you
at my side, I can accomplish anything.”

Well, that did it. The tears spilled onto her
cheeks. Those words meant more than if he declared his undying
love. Love. He lay in shadow, his muscular body laid out for her
admiration. His beautiful eyes glowed with emotional intensity. She
loved him. Hell, she had for years. What more could one ask for in
a man? Dependable, capable, and honorable, but with a dash of sexy
danger. A man with secrets. Secrets he had entrusted her with. He
found her attractive and desirable. That alone amazed her.

Rea dashed the few tears from her cheeks.
“And at social functions, you will introduce me to the chief
superintendent? The same man who sat in my office for an interview,
where he revealed his secret proclivities in hopes that I could see
them fulfilled?”

“Give over, really? The chief? A surprise,
that. However, if the man knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his
gob shut, or I will reveal his perversions to all! That goes for
any other clients of yours we may come across. Do you honestly
think I bloody well care what you did in the past? It’s the present
I care about, and the future. I want you with me. For always.”

His words cut clean through to her heart as
he spoke them with passionate vehemence. How tempting his
suggestion sounded.
A normal life
. She had all but given up
on the fantasy ten years before. Her mind raced with all sorts of
scenarios. Could she have another child? Did she want to? Yes. She
would be truly honored to have his baby, but what if she
couldn’t?

“Rhiannon, I can hear the gears grinding in
your brain. Why are you thinking about it so hard? We care for each
other, trust each other. What is the bloody harm of carving a
corner of happiness for ourselves after all we’ve been through?” He
clasped her arm and brought her back down into his embrace. “I have
a tidy sum of money put away. We can afford a respectable, proper,
middle-class home in any decent borough of London.”

“Rory, I have no idea how to be domestic. I
can’t even boil water for tea.”

He laughed, the rumble vibrating in his
chest. “So bring that wee girl from the kitchen. We can afford to
have a cook and a maid. Most middle-class homes have them.”

“You make it very hard to say no.”

“Then say yes.”

Something held her back. Doubt, fright.
Saying yes would be a hell of a step. She
could
sell The
Blind Cupid. A couple of people would be interested. She would have
to see her staff properly settled.

“I need a little time to adjust to the
possibility. Can you give me that?”

He frowned. “How much time?”

She planted a gentle kiss to his lips. “Not
long. A day or so. Rory, can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Aye. Of course.”

She turned on her side and whispered in his
ear. “I want you to take me against the wall. Hard and fast.”

“I thought we were going to take the physical
side of things at a slow pace?”

She twirled her finger through his chest
hair. “Slow? You proposed marriage, and I did not say no. I want
you to fuck me against the wall and erase all those memories I have
of you and the other women. I know I should never have invaded your
privacy. I am a wicked woman. I have yearned for you so long, and
I—”

His insistent and potent kiss seized her
breath. Rory grasped her arm and pulled her off the bed, twirled
her around until her back hit the wall. His long, lingering kiss
continued.

“Do you wish me sheathed? Surely in this
place you have condoms aplenty,” he teased in between nibbling on
her bottom lip.

No. She wanted to feel every long inch of his
cock buried deep. The slide of his shaft inside, stroking her, the
explosion of his climax. She wanted all of him. If she had any
lingering doubt about his proposal, what she was about to say
should dispense with any hesitation, on her side, at least.

“I want you to come inside me, I want—”

His cock entered her high and deep, his hands
gripped her buttocks, and she crossed her ankles behind his back.
He did as she asked, fast and hard. Her body pounded against the
wall, his grunts animalistic and gruff. Oh, God. Much better than
her fevered late-night dreams. Her hands roved over his
sweat-covered back, her nails trailing across his shoulder blades.
She marked him; he would have scratches to be sure.

The peak built. Rory would be the one man to
bring her to a climax while having sex. She cried out, purple
colors swirling in her vision. Three fast thrusts and Rory poured
himself inside her. He shuddered and shook, and they rode the
cresting wave together. He kissed her and rolled his hips where
they were still joined.

“God in heaven, I still want you,” he
murmured. He stepped back, slid out of her, and then gently lowered
her until her feet touched the floor. In a quick move, he scooped
her up, and she squealed in surprise. He carried her back to the
bed.

“I am too heavy! Put me down, you wonderful,
silly man!”

“Nay lass, you’re not.” He laid her on the
bed and swiped the damp hair from her forehead. “Did that expel the
memories you have of the other women? There is far more we can do
to assist them on their way.”

Rea grabbed his hand and kissed it, and
before she could stop herself, she declared, “I love you, Rory
Kerrigan.”

By Christ, she loved him. He lay on his side
on the bed and brought her in close. His cock hardened further and
he rubbed it against her arse cheeks.

Rory laid hot, insistent kisses along her
neck.

“Then my love, I do not see much need for you
not to answer my proposal right here and now. I feel the same. God,
I want you here, in my arms, my bed, my life, until I cease to take
a breath. Say yes and complete my happiness—complete me.”