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Authors: Unknown
of her clothing. He bent to kiss the nape of her neck, felt her
shiver in response and smiled. She was always so eager for his
touch, so ready to do whatever he wanted—in bed. If only she
was half as biddable out of it.
Minshom straightened and took an uncertain step back. He
didn’t want this, this softening toward her, this need...
«Good night, Jane.»
She turned toward him, hands clasping the front of her dress
to her breasts.
«You are leaving?»
He managed to shrug. «You’re unlaced.»
«But I thought...»
«Women shouldn’t think, Jane. You know it isn’t becoming.»
Color rose on her cheeks. She walked away from him, sat
down at her dressing table and began to rip the pins from her
hair, her movements jerky, the pins going everywhere. «Good
night, then.»
Some devilish impulse made him pause, his fingers already on
the door handle. «You aren’t going to fight with me tonight?»
«No.» She met his gaze in the mirror.
«Why not?»
«Because I’ve had a lovely evening and I’ll be damned if I’ll
allow you to spoil it.»
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Minshom raised his eyebrows. «Such language, Jane. Ladies
aren’t supposed to swear.»
«Then I’m obviously not feeling very ladylike tonight, am I?»
«Indeed.» He bowed extravagantly and left, walked the short
distance to his own bedchamber and opened the door. There was
a warm fire in the grate and his night things were laid out over
the back of a wing chair. The handle of a warming pan stuck out
from the side of the bed.
«Good evening, sir.»
Minshom frowned. «I thought you were off chasing Captain
Gray?»
«I couldn’t find him, sir.» Robert came toward him and
efficiently divested Minshom of his coat.
«Gone to ground, has he?»
«It appears so, sir.» Robert continued to undress Minshom, his
gaze steady on his task, his expression blank.
«I’m sure he’ll turn up at some point.»
«I’m sure he will, sir.» Robert’s mouth quirked up at the
corner. «That is, if he doesn’t do anything stupid.»
«I don’t think he’s that kind of man, Robert. He’s a sailor, for
God’s sake; he lacks imagination.»
Minshom stretched out his arms and allowed Robert to pull
his shirt over his head. The front was still damp from Jane’s
earlier ministrations. He pictured her mouth on his cock, her
teeth... God damn her to hell, why couldn’t he stop thinking
about her?
«I intend to visit the pleasure house on Friday night.»
«Yes, sir.» Robert gathered up the discarded clothes and
placed them in a bundle on a chair, took Minshom’s dressing
gown and handed it to him.
«I wish you to take a note to Madame Helene in the morning
and one to Major Lord Thomas Wesley apprising them of my
visit.»
«Yes, sir.»
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Minshom caught Robert’s chin in his fingers and held him
still. «If you act like a cringing servant for one more minute, I will
dismiss you.»
Robert held his gaze. «I thought you already had.»
«No, I simply threatened you. As it stands you are still mine.»
«I understand that, my lord.»
«Good.» Minshom rubbed his thumb along Robert’s lower lip,
heard his servant catch his breath. God, another person wanting
him. What was wrong with them all? «Good night, Robert.»
Robert blinked at him. «You don’t wish me to stay?»
«No.» Inwardly Minshom groaned. Now Robert looked rather
like Jane had earlier, all big puzzled eyes and quivering mouth.
«I’ll see you in the morning.»
Robert was quick to pick up the bundle of clothes and retreat
to the door. «Good night then, my lord.»
Minshom removed the warming pan from his bed that Robert
had forgotten in his haste to be gone and slid between the
covers. There was one major difference between Jane and
Roberts reaction to him; Jane had wanted him to stay and Robert
had been glad to escape. Minshom shut his eyes. In truth, he
wasn’t sure anymore which reaction surprised and aroused him
the most. And surely that was the most dangerous thing of all?
Jane had taken control in the carriage and he’d let her, and
he’d enjoyed her attentions far too much. What was happening to
him? If he wasn’t careful he would become as weak as his father
had always suspected. In some part of his soul, he felt like he was
fighting for his life, for his very existence...
He opened his eyes. But he was good at fighting, that was one
thing he was very sure of. Perhaps Jane and Thomas and Robert
needed to remember that.
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17
Lizzie cleared her throat. «His lordship says that when you are
ready to get dressed, I should tell him.»
«And why is that?» Jane asked, her fingers already busy
removing her day dress in anticipation of the evening to come.
Lizzie shrugged, apparently unconcerned with the abrupt
dismissal of her services. «I dunno, my lady. That’s just what he
said.»
«It seems a trifle odd, but I suppose we should do what his
lordship says.» Jane sighed. «Why don’t you unlace me and then
go and inform Lord Minshom that I am at his disposal.»
She hadn’t seen Blaize all week; he’d been sequestered in his
study with a series of visitors. For a man depicted in the
scandalous cartoons as a wastrel and a libertine, he was incredibly
busy. But she’d known that already, had watched him rebuild his
family’s fortunes from the ground up.
As Lizzie bustled about and then left to deliver Jane’s
message, Jane pressed a hand to her stomach and swallowed
hard. There was a strange metallic taste in her mouth that tainted
everything she ate. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror.
Perhaps she needed a tonic or perhaps it was simply her body
protesting living in a city, where the food was rarely fresh and
sometimes definitely suspect.
Her distracted gaze settled on her clothes chest where the box
about The Little Gentleman’s Club was hidden. She’d looked for
Thomas Wesley and had found not only his name, but some
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drawings of him fighting and bloodied, his smile gone, his face
bruised and defeated. It wasn’t surprising she’d thought she’d
known him. She only hoped Blaize hadn’t noticed her unguarded
comment.
The door banged as Lizzie returned.
«My lady? His lordship will be here in a moment.»
«Thank you, Lizzie.» Jane smiled at her maid and took a sip of
her now-tepid tea. «You may go.»
Jane resumed her seat at the dressing table and smoothed
some cream into her skin. London was wearing in more ways
than one. She’d been here for only a couple of weeks. If she
stayed much longer she’d have to resort to rouge to restore the
color to her cheeks.
«Good evening, wife.»
She looked over her shoulder to see Minshom coming
through the door between their two suites. He wore his brown
silk dressing gown and his black hair was still damp from his
bath. His pale skin was slightly flushed and he smelled of
sandalwood and citrus. He carried a large dress box in his hands,
which he placed on Jane’s bed.
«Good evening, my lord.» She nodded at the box. «Is this
another dress for me?»
«It is, but not from Madame Wallace’s. I borrowed this one
from Madame Helene.»
«From the pleasure house? Will we be spending the evening
there?»
Blaize didn’t answer as he opened the box and took out
something lacy. He seemed intent on keeping his distance from
her, both emotionally and physically. It wasn’t surprising when
she had gotten far too close to him during their last sexual
encounter. She’d sensed his conflict when she took control of his
cock.
«That doesn’t look like a dress,» Jane said doubtfully.
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«It isn’t. It’s a corset.» Blaize advanced toward her, the
garment held in his hands. «Stand up, Jane.»
Jane didn’t move. «But I have a perfectly decent corset of my
own. Why would I want to wear that one?»
«Because it is necessary to wear this particular one under this
particular dress.» There was a hint of impatience in his voice, and
when she met his gaze, his eyes were hard. «Stand up.»
Jane sighed and rose to her feet and let her dressing gown fall
from her shoulders. His heated gaze dropped to her breasts, to
the curve of her waist, to her sex. «Turn around.»
She turned back toward the mirror. His arms came around
her, bringing the gray silk-covered corset into contact with her
warm skin. Jane wiggled. «It is too short.»
«It is what it is. Now keep still.»
He molded the boned fabric to her chest and started lacing up
the back. He kept one hand wedged between her breasts to hold
the front up.
Jane drew an experimental breath. «It still feels wrong and my
breasts aren’t really covered at all.»
Her nipples sat well above the lace, and the corset ended at
her waist rather than her hips. She sucked in a breath as Blaize
continued to tighten the laces until she could hardly breathe.
«It’s too tight.»
«It is how I want it to be. Now put on these stockings.»
«You’ll have to do it for me. I can’t bend down now.»
He raised his eyebrows at her and knelt at her feet, smoothed
the first black stocking over her foot and up to her knee and tied
the garter. She fixed her gaze on his long fingers as he tied a neat
bow at the side of her knee.
«Give me your other foot.»
She presented her left leg and he eased the stocking on,
pausing to straighten the seam and make sure the garter was
tightly secured. His hand lingered on her knee and then stole
upward to slide between her thighs, pushing them slightly apart.
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Kate Pearce
She shivered as he widened his fingers to cup her mound and
stroke her clit.
«Wet for me already, I see.» He leaned forward and she felt his
hot breath on her skin, the flick of his tongue over her already-
swollen bud. «I like that, Jane. I like your obedience and your
readiness.» His middle finger slipped lower, teased the entrance
to her sex.
Jane shivered and slid her fingers into his still-damp hair, then
moaned as he pushed away from her and stood up. He put his
hand in his dressing gown pocket and brought out a jumble of
jewelry, showed it to her.
«You’ll wear these for me, tonight.» He placed the jewels on
her dressing table and plucked at her exposed nipples until they
were tight and aching before loosely attaching two clamps. The
black and red polished gemstones gleamed and trembled with
every labored breath she took.
«And this.» Blaize knelt again and set his mouth over her clit,
sucked it until she was writhing in the chair and lifting her hips
toward him. She gasped as the metal gripped her swollen bud,
forcing herself to breathe through the constriction of the corset
lacing and her own arousal.
«Don’t move. I’ll fetch the dress.» Blaize got up and went
behind her to the bed. When he reappeared he had a gown
draped over his arm. «You’ll wear this tonight.»
«With no petticoats?»
His smile was full of lust and anticipation. «Petticoats would
just get in the way. I want you to be... available.»
«To you?»
He shrugged. «That’s my concern, not yours.»
Jane raised her chin. «Are you suggesting that I have no say in
what happens to me tonight?»
He met her gaze, his pale eyes glittering. «You are my wife.
You have never had any say.»
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Jane swallowed hard. He had obviously decided she needed to
be put in her place again, preferably beneath him, servicing him
or simply bowing down to his demands. She licked her lips. «I’m
not sure I want to do that.»
«I’m not giving you a choice. You agreed to our bargain, you
agreed to take my cum—why pretend you don’t like it?»
« Your seed, Blaize. Not someone else’s. You told me you
wouldn’t countenance that when I first arrived, so how can you
change your mind now?» She made as if to get up. «In truth if
you find fucking me so distasteful, I’ll simply go back to my
original plan and find a lover.»
She hardly had time to react before he pressed her back into
the seat, his hand cupping her chin, his mouth slamming over
hers in a deep possessive kiss. When he finally drew back she was
panting and so was he. Her aching breasts were crushed against
his hard chest and his erect cock, which had escaped his dressing
gown, prodded her stomach.
«I like fucking you.»
«But not enough to stop another man having me?»
«Damn you, Jane.»
She saw the battle in his eyes, his need to possess her at war
with his need to show her who was in control. Damn him for
thinking he could share her and not regret it.
«You changed the rules, Blaize. You should abide by them.»
He kissed her again, this time more savagely until she was