My Lady Enslaved (10 page)

“Quiet!” he hissed, and he reached upward to close the carriage curtains with two sharp tugs leaving only the inside lantern to light their features. “Undress,” he bit out harshly.

“No!” she exclaimed. “Not like this, Raven, please!”

Chloe stilled as Raven’s words reverberated through her mind. He was jealous. And that meant that he loved her! Only he was haunted and a little drunk and very vulnerable. She reminded herself that he had not hurt her. Not once. And she knew with all her heart that he never would. He was angry . . .yes, but this was their way together. He commanded her and she obeyed. Willingly, because she wanted to. Because she craved to be his loving slave to passion and perhaps that was the only way he could truly love her . . . or trust her.

“As you wish, my lord,” she murmured. “Always as you wish.”

Raven appeared startled as she slowly began to remove her white evening gloves. His deep chest labored with a few harsh breaths from his exertion and his strong angular features firmed with instant sexual awareness. The power and the raw masculinity of him made her shiver.

“You will have to unhook the back of my gown.”

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling his gloves off.

Someday, they would be close enough to each other so that she could tell him how much she loved his rough-skinned hands on her skin, holding her body. She moved against the jostling of the carriage to sit beside him and she felt his hands on the back of her gown. Then he completely surprised her. He ripped the back of her gown open with a jerk!

Gasping, she clutched the bodice, but Raven tugged it relentlessly away from her hands. Small sounds of dismay escaped her throat as he continued to rip more of the silk from her body. His muscled forearm bracketed her bare waist as he pulled her spine to his chest and persisted to tear the silk skirts from her hips and legs. She did not wear a corset but merely stockings and in moments he had her stripped nude before him.

“Move your hands,” he muttered through a hot moist kiss to the nape of her neck, and when she hesitated he pried her hands away, holding her wrists beneath his strong grip. “Open your thighs. Spread your legs for me,” he ordered.

“Raven,” she denied, and he bit her earlobe holding the lobe in his teeth and making her whimper at the pleasure-pain he caused. Until she lifted her legs, splaying them open over his thighs. He held her wrists tight, pulling them downward behind her back to arch her spine and thrust her naked breast high in the shivering night air. Abruptly his free hand stroked down between her thighs as he roughly prodded one finger deep inside of her, making her cry out in pleasure.

“You are wet,” he accused. “You liked me ripping the gown from your body. Stripping you naked. It made you hot and wet for me.”

“Yes, Raven,” she whimpered with his finger prodding her again as she arched upward mounting his invading finger more.

“Say your pussy is mine,” he ordered, keeping his finger embedded inside her yet cupping her fullness with the heel of his hand.

“My p-pussy is yours,” she cried as he thrust his finger in and out of her again.

“Jesus, baby girl, you arouse me like no other woman ever has,” he rasped. “I want your ass, Rosebud. I want to feel your ass so tight around my cock.”

Chloe squirmed on his finger, incoherent with passion, as she moaned senselessly, “Yes, Raven, yes. Make me come!”

“Always,” he promised in a gruff rasp. “Now get on your knees, baby girl, and bend over the carriage seat on the other side.”

She mewled, mindless at Raven’s hot and erotic words, at his arousing sexual commands. And then he had her on her knees, bent over the carriage seat in the midst of the torn silk pieces from her gown. He was down on his knees behind her and his wide hand held her down by the nape of her neck as the silk beneath her slithered over her swollen breasts. His free hand reached between her thighs and pushed each one apart until she was supplicated at an impossibly wide angle. Positioned as he would take her, poised to his command, while her body swayed forward to back in a rocking motion with the movement of the carriage.

“Say you are mine,” he ordered.

“I-I’m y-your-rs,” she choked, as her buttocks bucked upward with each blinding spark of pleasure he wrought over her.

“God,” Raven groaned. “God!” Then he began to mate her bottom in long hard stabbing thrusts that pushed her into the carriage seat and back again as she continued to climax. Her moans were shrill and abrupt with each rapid thrust that Raven took. He was branding her his, driving her forward with each pumping of his hips. Faster. Faster. Faster!

“Raven!” she screamed and he took and took and took!

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Harrison fell forward over Rosebud’s back gripping the squabs with his hands to keep from crushing her with his weight, just as the carriage halted its motion. He was nearly senseless beneath the last raw edges of his overwhelming ejaculation. Yet he was trained beyond normal men and he knew instantly . . . But it was still too late! To late for his lax body to respond to the fact that his driver would never open the carriage door. His gaze turned to see the barrel of a French-made dueling pistol placed to his temple.

“Get out slowly, Scar,” ordered a rough French accented voice behind the pistol.

“Now!” The pistol clicked into the cocked position and Harrison slowly moved off Chloe. His sluggish mind trying to force his instincts into motion.

“Eoo, my little sister, has tamed the venomous beast!” Lia Delconte exclaimed. “Thees is too delicious, Pigot! Our, Scar, is too fucked to move more quickly than the humped beast!” Lia’s laughter rang sharp and nasty in the night air. “Did you think, Scar, that you were fucking me?” she asked, laughing crassly as he stepped from the carriage with the large Monsieur Pigot holding a pistol to his temple.

Lia stepped up to the open carriage door and tossed her cape inside. “Get out of there, little Chloe! I have need of you now!”

“No!” Chloe cried and Harrison winced at the terror in her voice.

“You have no choice!” Lia spat. “Or I will kill your lover here, and then go inside his fancy townhouse and kill Sebastian!”

“No-no,” Chloe whimpered, as she slowly made her way out of the carriage with the dark cloak wrapped tight around her.

Harrison watched Lia turn to him, a vision of Chloe yet callused and more used looking. He could never mistake them.

“Did you think I would not know that you would seek your revenge on me?” Lia asked him. “You are the only one of thees Archangels with enough balls to care that little Lia made a small mistake. But I give you my sister, yes? Is this not sweet revenge for you, don’t you think? Perhaps we are even now?”

“We will never be even, Lia,” Harrison uttered, turning his gaze to Chloe. “Not unless you leave her with me.”

“Uo!” Lia exclaimed sharply. “You ask too much. I need her now!”

“Let me kill him,” Pigot spat.

“Non!” Lia exclaimed. “As much as I would like to, then we would have all thees Archangels down on us. And I have too much trouble like this already.”

“Please don’t take, Sebastian,” Chloe whispered.

“Oh non, little sister. I cannot take that troublesome babe. It is only you that I need now.”

Lia nodded to Pigot and without warning he butted the pistol sharply against Harrison’s temple, and the last thing Harrison heard was Chloe screaming his name.

 

 

It was something that Lia had said concerning not needing any more trouble equivalent to the troubles she already had. That signified that someone else was seeking her for revenge, and they were getting too close. Why else would Lia need Chloe, unless she intended to pass Chloe off again as herself. He had to assume another person wanted revenge against Lia, and Chloe was going to pay again. Unless he could find her quickly.

He only knew of two people, through all his research on Lia, who would go that far. People that would need revenge just as he had to the exclusion of all else. And he was betting on the German named Kant. It had been Kant’s team that Lia killed in Prague. Yet what was not widely known was that Kant survived, but minus a few fingers, and if the rumors were correct he also no longer sported a functioning dick. What would a man like that do to Chloe?

Harrison jerked his head in denial. He could not think of that now. He had to set that aside. So instead he descended the stairs two at a time, barely allowing his butler the time to pull open the front door for him. He warmly bundled Sebastian inside of his cloak as he ordered his driver to make all haste to Drummond’s London mansion. Then he entered the carriage to sit and stare at the torn pieces of silk on the opposite seat.

Several hours later Harrison slipped silently along one of the piers at the London docks. The early morning light was just barely catching the fog. He had done exceptionally well so far. He'd been extremely lucky in avoiding Drummond while leaving Sebastian in Gabriella’s care. And now more fortunate than that he had discovered that Kant was in London, or he had been several hours before. Now he would confirm the rumor, and then find Kant.

Even now he prayed it was Kant that Lia had given Chloe to, because he had something to trade Kant for Chloe’s release. Himself. Kant did not realize it yet, but he had been the assassin that had killed Kant’s brother five years before. Kant would know him by reputation though. They had skimmed the edges around each other for years, playing their games for their countries. He had seen Kant in person several times while spying in France. Now he just needed to find the man and convince him who he was, then offer the trade for Chloe. It would work if he could just find them.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

“Drink more!”

Chloe tried to refuse the harsh opium-laced drink but the man called Kant forced her to drink it, slopping liquid over her chin when she tried not to. Her vision and mind were already hazy in a rippling slow motion quality. This was not the first time Kant had forced her to drink the opiate. How many times now? Three? Four? She could not remember . . .

“That’s it, Lia,” Kant coaxed, tilting the cup upward until she drained the last dredges.

Lia! That shook Chloe’s drug hazed mind. This man thought she was Lia. Another man thought she was Lia. “Raven!”

“Stop saying that name, you bitch!” Kant slapped her hard, but truly she barely felt it as she whimpered, and then Kant snarled, “Come, Lia, it is time to play again!”

“Lay down, cunt,” Kant ordered, harshly tugging on her collar and chain.

Chloe frowned at him. He was not happy. Everyone else was happy. But she wanted to lay down, she was happy to do it, feeling all languid and warm. She lay on a bed with a soft velvet quilt. She turned her head slowly feeling the blurry men's faces around her. They were sitting around her drinking . . . yes, she could see that and one of them smoked a cigar as he watched her.