Trust Me (4 page)

To be commanded by him
to do anything, especially something that required risk or sacrifice on her
part, always produced such heart-pounding sensations in her. And a strong
desire to submit. Illogical, yes. But it was so hard to deny him anything.
Well, anything carnal.

He touched her
chemise. “Help me remove this or I shall tear it from you.”

It was a threat she
knew him to be perfectly capable of carrying out. The very thought weakened her
knees. She flicked a glance towards the direction of the path. “It will be
quickly done?”

“Very quickly done.”

She stripped off her
petticoat and chemise. Since he forbade her to wear stays while they were
isolated in the country, she soon stood in only her garters and stockings.

The chilly breeze cut
into her skin and her teeth began to rattle. She gave a little distressed moan.

He laughed, the sound
low and wicked, and dropped his gaze to her breasts.

She glanced down. Her
nipples were tight, painful points.

“God, but you are
beautiful.” He intoned the words like a prayer.

“Oh Jon—” She had to
pause as a series of shivers racked her. “I can’t stay like this!”

“You can do anything
you truly set your mind to.”

She shook her head.
“No, no I can’t.”

A convulsive shiver
racked her.

“Oh nonsense, of
course you can. You’ll do anything I ask. You want to please me.”

The desire to do as
he wanted warred with the commonsense notion that she was going to catch her
death of a cold.
 
“You always want me to
suffer.” She had to force the words past her rattling teeth.

“And how beautifully
you suffer for me.” His attention was fixed upon her breasts.

God, her nipples were
so hard they were beginning to ache.

“Hold just like
that,” he said.

She gave another
little moan, full of misery as she watched him back away from her, then turn
and walk to where he had left Hades tied.

Of course
he
would remain fully clothed!

With a slight grin,
he returned with a bundle which he unfolded to reveal a long garment of
blackest wool. “Here.”

He placed it about
her shoulders. The lush scent of roses and lavender surrounded her.

As the weight of the
garment settled, at the sudden blocking of that cutting, chilly wind, she
closed her eyes.

Oh, oh the steadily
growing warmth was like heaven. Wave upon wave of warmth sank into her. Making
her shudder, this time with bliss.

She sighed and then
moaned.

And then she noticed
the silken slide of fur against her bare skin.

She could feel the
intensity of his gaze on her face but she kept her eyes lowered. She couldn’t
help but writhe, sliding her back and buttocks against the soft, silken texture
of the fur.

“Do you like that?”
he asked.

She could only laugh
softly. Her body was quickly regaining its heat, and she was still shuddering
with the utter deliciousness of relief.

He touched the frogs
at her neck. “A rather luxurious wrap for such a wayward little wench. It would
certainly make the villagers wonder what she had done for the master.”

She glanced up at
him. “Goodness, couldn’t you have simply given it to me.”

“I have neglected
you. I haven’t given you any wedding presents yet. I wanted to make it
memorable for us both” he said.

“I have never owned a
fur-lined coat,” she said breathlessly.

“A countess should
definitely wear a fur lined pelisse.” He pulled the hood up over her hair.

“I always had them
lined with velvet.”

“More sensible.”

“Yes.”

He touched a
fingertip to her nose. “That’s why you need a husband. You deserve to be
spoiled.”

 
He pressed her to the oak then pulled the
edges of the garment back. Cold air stung her bare breasts once more and she
gasped, shocked by the sudden loss of the closed pelisse’s silky warmth.

His gaze was fastened
on her nipples, which had tightened into to points hard as pebbles. He bent and
took one into his mouth. His hot wet mouth. When he raised his head again, cold
air hit the wetness and sent a series of near painful shivers through her.

“Here.” He touched
the head of his cock to her nub. Heated hardness making contact with wet
softness. “Lift your leg.”

She glanced about
nervously. “I don’t think—”

With his crown, Jon
traced slow circles over her erect bud. Her heartbeat centred there, throbbing
with increasing arousal. A low, shuddering moan escaped her parted lips.

“Go on, lean back
against the tree and lift your leg for me.”

She laughed, softly.
“You’re very determined.”

He reached down and
touched her leg, trailing his fingertips over her flesh, tickling. He reached
her stocking and froze. He chuckled. “Plain woollen stockings, for a countess?”

“If I didn’t have
woollen stockings, I wouldn’t have been able play your game today.”

“Come now, lift your
leg for me.”

“Jon, I would
die—simply
die
if someone—anyone, especially a servant—were to spy us
here like this.”

“Not even for me?”

She pressed her face
into his shoulder. “Please, please, don’t ask this.”

“Still so shy?”

“Please…”

“But you like the
risk too…” He ran his hand up above her garter, along the inside of her thigh.

“No, no, I don’t.”

He touched the crease
where her leg joined her pelvis. “Liar. Look how wet you are.”

What could she say?
He was right.

He leant closer and put
his lips to her ear. “No one can see us here. Even if they came up the path,
the trees block the line of sight. I would not chance letting my grooms see my
favourite wench naked.”

She recalled the
wicked glint she’d seen in his eyes at that shameless party at Eastwood Place,
when he had asked if she wanted to bare herself to Mr David Kean’s gaze. She
hadn’t understood Jon then. But he had understood something about her.
Something about risk and sexual arousal. “I don’t know. You make things so
hopelessly complex at times.”

“Life is complex.”

“I would rather have
simplicity. Order.”

“Order yes, that’s
what rules are for. But what about when the rules are complex?”

“Then I would rather
avoid those situations altogether.”

“As you have avoided
Society?”

“Yes, exactly so.”

“We won’t be able to
avoid Society forever.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“However, I can teach
you how much fun it can be to play with the complexities of life. Here, alone
but for our servants, we may do as we please. Within reason, of course.” He
laughed again.

“But to be caught
like this—”

Without warning, he
swept her up into his arms and carried her whilst he walked in the direction
he’d come from after hunting for her quail. Deeper into the wood. He slowed as
they approached a grove. She looked up at the canopy of waving brightly
coloured, leaf laden branches overhead. Then she looked down to see the ground
carpeted by fallen leaves. She gasped. “You tricked me!”

He chuckled.

“You made me think
you were going to… out there in the open.”

“It gave you a
thrill, did it not?”

She laughed. Yes, it
had. Her heart had not stopped racing, and her mouth was still dry.

Aside from delighting
in freezing her half to death, he had also enjoyed scaring her a bit.

But she discerned
that he had also enjoyed the risk of their being observed, no matter his
assurances that he didn’t want his servants to see her naked. It was a
perversity of his, a complexity of his nature that he would risk causing that
which he least wished to happen.

He needed that kind
of risk? But why?

He laid her gently
upon a particularly thick patch of leaves, so deep it felt almost like a
mattress. The smell of sweet pine and musky earth filled her nostrils. The
grouping of the trees made a windbreak, creating a cosy nook away from the
stinging breeze. She knew then that he’d selected and prepared the spot.

He lifted her legs,
parting them as he knelt between them and settling them about his waist. He
leant over her and let his gaze move over her body, slowly, deliberately. The dense,
multicoloured canopy of leaves shifted and swayed high above him in her vision,
making her a little dizzy but in the most pleasant way. She gripped his sides
with her thighs, welcoming him.

He reached beneath
her and withdrew something from the pocket of his coat. Silver and blue stones
glinted in the sunlight flecking through the leafy canopy. The jewelled cuffs
he’d purchased just for her. She sucked in her breath and her pulse raced.

But she was eager to
play. She lowered her eyes and lifted her arms above her head.

He took her hands.
The metal touched her skin. The click of the clasp made her pulse race harder
than ever and wetness trickled over her intimate folds.

He bent and licked
her breasts, close but not touching her nipples. She watched his pale hair fall
forward upon her olive skin. The contrast between the two fascinated her as
always. She twisted her arms against the cuffs, adoring the sensation of being
helpless. She arched her back and moaned.

He licked at her
nipples and then took one into his mouth, drawing on its stiff peak softly and
then more and more firmly, until darts of delight pulsed through her. He bit at
the tight little nub and sharp pain shot through her breast. He licked at it
and the pain warmed away to become the sweetest pleasure. He repeated the
action over and over until she was writhing and crying his name. Then he
stopped and treated the other side to the same slow, delicious torture. until
she was mindless with need.

“Please, please,
please…” She chanted the word.

He touched his cock
to her entrance.

She canted her hips
forward and moaned. Her blood seemed to vibrate and pulse in her veins, as
though it were singing with joy. Oh, the feeling of being so utterly immersed
in a moment. She could only find it in sexual congress.

Only with Jon.

He impelled his hips
against hers, driving himself upwards into her. The force of his large erection
created the most exquisite pressure against the mouth of her womb. She opened
her mouth, a soundless cry of surrender. His hands tightened on her hips,
increasing the pressure. She wanted his forcefulness. Here in the wild, open
outdoors, she wanted him to take her roughly, savagely.

“Jon, Jon…” She put
her head back against the bed of leaves and let her body go limp except for the
straining of her pelvis arching into his.

He began to roll his
hips, withdrawing and thrusting. Sparks of pure pleasure shot through her again
and again. Her inner walls clenched around his girth, he groaned then firmed
his hold on her hips and increased his speed. Her heart began to beat even
harder, renewed thrills slamming into her body with each fresh surge of blood
in her veins. She moaned loudly, convulsively.

He positioned himself
so that his cock brushed against her nub with each upward stroke. Everything
within her drew tight. So tight. Oh God, it was too much. Too much. She rolled
her head and flexed her hands against the restraint of the cuffs.

He pressed downward
on her hips and thrust up into her with vigour and force. Over and over and
over.

Her body began to
quiver. The cuffs on her wrists made a clanging sound and she realized that she
was banging them against the tree trunk behind her. He brought his mouth down
on hers, kissing her open-mouthed, harshly. Breaking her. Her tension
shattered, exploding into shards of ecstasy. Her cunt rippled convulsively over
his cock. She cried out into his mouth.

****

Seated in their
private chamber, Anne blinked back sleepiness. Full from supper, she could only
think of crawling in between the sheets.

At the sound of the
door opening, she came alert and sat up straighter.

Jon entered along
with Tiberia. The dog’s panting, shaggy face made her smile and she held out
her hands. Toenails clicking on the wood floor, Tiberia gimped over then laid
her head on Anne’s lap and heaved a great sigh. Her fur was cold and she
grunted under Anne’s gentle petting.

Anne glanced up from
her lap with a broad smile for Jon.

But he was crouched
at the hearth with his back partially turned to her. She watched him poke at
the fire. Sparks flew up as bright yellow and orange flames leapt up and licked
hungrily at the wood. A stern expression on his face as he wielded the poker
like a lance, furiously stabbing the burning logs as if to reduce them to
splinters.