Lord of the Rakes (21 page)

Y
ou will go upstairs to your room now. You will strip yourself naked and lie on the bed, and wait for me.

Philip’s command followed Caroline as she slipped into the bedroom. Part of her was still confused. Why had he stopped so abruptly? Yes, he liked to make a game of things between them, but this had been different. When he had stepped away from her, she could have sworn she saw a flicker of fear cross his face.

Thanks to the attentions he’d already lavished on her, it was the work of a moment for Caroline to peel off her dress and lay it across the chest at the foot of the bed. Her chemise and stays followed. With each brush of cloth against her skin, she imagined Philip’s hands. She felt him stroking her arms, her belly, her derriere. She pictured him down in the parlor. She imagined he stood by the fire, so the light caught in his golden hair. Was he planning what he would do to her? Did he consider in which ways he would touch her and take her?

How long would he make her wait to find out?

Now Caroline wore only her stockings. As she bent to untie her garters she remembered how his hands had closed around her buttocks, squeezing and kneading them until she groaned. She couldn’t wait another moment for his touch. He was cruel to make her wait.

What if she descended the stairs as she was, naked except for a single silken stocking? What if
she
ordered
him
to her? Caroline could not believe she was capable of entertaining such thoughts, and yet the image was wonderfully enticing. She imagined watching Philip mount the stairs to her. She thought of commanding him to take her naked breasts in his hands right there on the landing.

The door still didn’t open. Caroline flopped back on the bed with a wordless scream, like she had when she was just a girl. Her breasts, naked and unconfined, bounced, which made her laugh. It was a relief to find her unruly sense of humor reestablishing itself, even as warmer feelings crawled through her, confused and unsatisfied.

Still on her back, Caroline raised her leg to untie her second garter.

That was the moment the door opened.

“Now there,” drawled Philip, “is a sight to conjure with.”

Belatedly, Caroline realized she had fallen back so that she faced the door, which meant Philip now had a perfect view of the underside of her raised leg, and her derriere.

She lowered her leg slowly. “I was only doing as you instructed.” She batted her eyes at him in wholly feigned innocence.

Philip circled the bed like a prowling cat, favoring her with a look of pure lust. Caroline lay as she was, stretched out and complacent. She was supremely conscious of her nudity, but not in any way that gave rise to proper shame. Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples tightened. Her body grew pliant as luxurious warmth spread itself to all her limbs. That warmth urged complete relaxation and acceptance of whatever was to come.

“But you were slow to obey.” Philip’s voice was rough with desire. Excitement flashed beneath Caroline’s skin. “I am most displeased.”

“You do not appear displeased.” Caroline let her gaze drift pointedly to his trousers, and the unmistakable outline of his concealed member.

“You see what you do to me?” He came closer, his hand passing casually over himself. “And you enjoy it, don’t you? You like to know that just thinking of you makes me hard.”

“Yes.” She remembered how wickedly sweet it had felt to take him in her hands and to stroke his hot, velvet flesh. She remembered him driving into her from behind, and she clenched tight.

“You are a shameless wanton,” said Philip harshly.

“And you are a wicked seducer.” Caroline stretched and twisted, displaying her naked body from a fresh angle. He had made her wait, frustrated and aching. Let him have a taste of his own medicine.

Philip walked right up to the edge of the bed and stroked the side of himself again, slowly. “If this is what you want, you’d better come take it, hadn’t you?”

He was doing it again. He meant to make her undress him. This time, however, she was ready for it. She would show him that making her wait for her satisfaction had consequences.

Caroline rose onto her knees so that her eyes were nearly level with Philip’s. She laid her hands on his shoulders and pushed them under his coat, until that plain, close-cut garment fell down his arms and onto the floor.

“Aha,” said Philip as if to a naughty child. “Is that how you treat your master’s possessions?”

But Caroline found she was ready for this, too, and her gaze did not flicker from his. “Do you say you are my master, then?”

“In this room I am, and you acknowledged as much.”

“Did I?” Caroline settled back on her heels and tapped her chin in a show of thoughtfulness. “I can’t recall acknowledging any such thing.”

A dangerous light smoldered in Philip’s eyes. He reached out one broad hand and knotted his fingers into her tresses. He raised her up inexorably until his mouth just touched the sensitive edge of her ear. “Then I must remind you, mustn’t I?”

He seized her breast and pressed his palm against it. The abruptness made her gasp, and then the pleasure made her moan. He kissed her, plunging his tongue ruthlessly into her mouth, while he chafed his palm against her tight nipple. He pinched the very tip and rolled it between his blunt, hot fingers. He never broke the kiss. He just held her mouth exactly where he wanted it, stroking her tongue with his until the relentless sensations of his hands and mouth together made her groan. She felt her body trying to slump closer to him so she could rub her neglected breast against his chest. She wanted him. Now. She wanted him in her hands and inside her. She groaned once more against his endless, hot, wonderful kiss, and scrabbled to find the buttons of his fly.

“Oh, no.” Philip pulled back. “Not so fast, madam. You refused your orders before. Now you will have to wait for your pleasures. Lie back.”

“What? Why?” Caroline was very aware she sounded petulant, but she couldn’t help herself. Her need made it impossible to keep any dignity at all. And of course, Philip, insufferable man, grinned at her.

“To find out, you will have to obey, won’t you?”

She considered grabbing his shirt and wrestling him down onto the bed with her. But she knew how strong he was. She would not overcome him. Caroline lay back across the counterpane, unable to think of any response better than a murderous glower. Of course, that just made Philip laugh.

“Hardly the gaze of the eager lover, my dear. I see I still have to teach you about the pleasure that comes with obedience.” He opened the drawer of the bedside table and brought out the yellow silk sash.

“Good, you kept this for us. Now I will show you the proper use for it.”

Philip circled the bed until he was behind her. Caroline twisted, trying to see what he was doing, but she could not. He leaned over her, dragging his hands sensuously up the exposed flesh of her arms, raising them as he had in the parlor. She sighed as she felt him loop the silk around her wrists and tighten it.

Her eyes flew open. “What . . . what . . .”

“It’s a slipknot,” he murmured. “It will come loose if you give it slack. But in the meantime . . .” He stroked her bare breasts, strained tight now that her arms stretched above her head. “Your bonds will remind you how helpless you are with me. How you must obey all my commands, and all your own desires.”

Caroline tugged against the sash, but her arms remained over her head. He’d tied her to the bedpost.

He’d. Tied. Her. To. The bedpost.

And now he was playing with her breasts, petting and plumping and kissing and torturing her with his fingers and his tongue, and she couldn’t reach him. She could only moan and arch her body. She was truly helpless as he lavished all his skills and attention on her flesh.

“Now.” Philip slid his hand down the length of her torso and between her legs. “Now you will learn, madam.”

He spread her thighs and knelt between them, stoking the soft flesh with his hot, hard hands. Caroline writhed against the counterpane. She was rewarded by his harsh intake of breath. Philip’s hands slid higher. He caressed her hips, slid his hard around to her derriere, to lift her and squeeze her there as ruthlessly as he has squeezed her breasts. It felt just as good, and she groaned again, arching toward him.

“Touch me,” she panted. “I need you to rub me.”

“Say ‘please.’”

“Please!”

He did touch her. Keeping one hand clasped around her bottom, he slipped his fingers between her folds and stroked her. Desire spiraled from her core to her heart. She was wet, and it felt so good, because it rendered his touch slick and the stroke smooth. He found that most sensitive nub again. This time Philip took it between his two fingers, and very, very gently he squeezed. The sensation spiked through her. He was laughing at his triumph over her, and she didn’t care. She’d never care about anything again, as long as he didn’t stop touching her.

He bent close, nuzzling her breasts, letting his tongue lap lazily at her so that she squirmed again between his hands. The motion rubbed her against his teasing fingers, and her bottom against his other hand. The force of her need turned her breath hard and shallow. She wanted to grind herself against him so his fingers would press more firmly against her eager flesh, but she couldn’t. He was robbing her of all her strength. She was helpless. He had what he wanted and he was right, it felt magnificent.

Philip’s mouth left her breast. Without moving his hands from her, he trailed kisses all the slow way down to her belly, and lower, and lower yet. Just as Caroline understood what he meant to do, the tip of his tongue touched her folds.

Caroline gasped. Philip licked, just once. He slipped his fingers farther into her. At the same time he pressed his tongue against her nub. Caroline cried out again, this time in pure delight. She pulled against her silken bond, mad to knot her hands in his hair, to force his mouth closer to her so he had to lick her harder. But she could not reach him, and he licked only lightly, barely brushing the tip of his tongue against her. He stroked and fondled her folds ever so softly with his fingertips. “Please, master!” she cried desperately. “Harder, please!”

But that only made him lift his mouth away from her. Frustration tore another wordless scream from between her clenched teeth. Philip straddled her, pressing her thighs together so that her folds, swollen with need, throbbed against their confinement.

Philip leaned close, the lapels of his coat brushing her sensitized nipples. One hand planted itself beside her head, the other stroked firmly up her arm to rest on the silken tie around her wrists.

“So, I am your master, Caroline?” he demanded. “I am master of your desire and all your body’s pleasure?” He tightened his thighs around hers.

“Yes, yes! You are all that, and more! Please, Philip!”

With a quick twist of his fingers, the knot at her wrist loosened. All at once her hands were free. But before she could bring her arms down, Philip had rolled away and back to stand at the edge of the bed.

“Then you must undress me, woman. Now.”

Caroline drew herself up onto her knees and shot him a look of pure poison. She was answered with a raised brow. Frustration burned, but desire was stronger. Every inch of her ached for his touch to resume. But he just stood there, hands behind his back, waiting. Caroline gathered her knees under herself and started to undo his waistcoat. Her impatience grew with each button, but Philip only smiled down, mocking her need.

Caroline flushed from head to toe. She ordered herself to go slowly. She would not give him the satisfaction of making her clumsy. He could not be comfortable, as hard and tightly confined as he so evidently was. Let him suffer for a little while.

She’d have to undo his cravat. She raised herself up. His mouth was so close, she had to kiss him. She had to take his face in both her hands and press her lips to his, press her tongue to his lips, seeking to tease him to open to her, to receive her as she had received him.

But Philip’s mouth did not open. His hands did not reach for her. He remained still as marble, until she drew back. His gaze was steely and eloquent as he leveled it against her. He would not move until she completed her task.

Wicked, impossible man.
What on earth made him act so? Caroline ripped away Philip’s cravat and pushed open his shirt. Well, if his mouth would not respond to hers, she would rub her lips against the curve of his shoulder and against his throat, as her hands bunched up the linen of his shirt. She felt Philip sway toward her, just the tiniest bit. Now it was her turn to smile. He raised his arms, and she pulled his shirt off. She drew her fingernails lightly down his chest, making sure she did not neglect his nipples. Only when she was satisfied that both dark patches were as hard and tight as her attentions could make them did she drag her hands down to the waistband of his trousers.

Caroline let her fingers linger along the ridge there. Philip’s breath hitched, and released, slowly. Mischief mixed with desire to temper Caroline’s haste. One button at a time she undid his trousers’ fly, making sure her fingers brushed his member with each one.