Nothing Denied (8 page)

He hadn’t expected their first joining to be so powerful. Or to find her such an enthusiastic and exciting partner. After al , her reputation was an icy one and she was a virgin, not experienced in matters of the flesh. And yet she had brought him great pleasure and reinforced his thought that she could be a very good partner to him.

If only she passed his tests.

As if she sensed him staring, Beatrice moved her arm away from her face and looked up at him. To his surprise, he could not read her expression.

“You are not the monster you pretended to be,” she final y said as she pushed up on her elbows.

He arched a brow at her unexpected statement.

“What do you mean?”

“You made me think you would be utterly depraved, that you would demand unconscionable things from me that I might not be able to accept. And yet, what happened between us did not seem to be so…” She hesitated. “Bad.”

He almost laughed. Was she trying to be insulting or could she simply not help herself? He rol ed on his side to face her, watching how her nipples tightened when he came nearer, how her eyes glazed. She wanted him, and he liked that he could coax such a response from a woman known more for her sharpness than her passion.

“I think you may not understand,” he said softly as he reached out to trace her arm with a fingertip. Her pale skin flushed at even this light touch. “Today I took your virginity. That is an immense responsibility and I took it seriously. I wasn’t about to introduce you to al my

‘depravities,’ as you put it, when you were untried and uncertain. And what we did together
did
give me great pleasure.”

He could have sworn that her eyes lit up with surprised delight before she turned her face.

“But…” she supplied.

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be kept satisfied for long by the simplicity of what we just shared. I need more.”

She sat up now and grabbed for the coverlet to wrap around her body. He recognized the action was a way to shield herself and for now he al owed it. Soon enough he would peel away al her protection, break her shel .

“But you have never ful y explained to me what
more
means, Gareth. What is it that you want that is so fearful to other women?”

He cocked his head. He supposed she did deserve to know.

“It is not enough for me to claim your body, Beatrice,” he said softly. “When you are in my bed, I need to own you. To feel you bend to my wil . To see you accept me as your master.”

She was silent for a long while, simply staring at him with eyes wide. “You want a slave.”

“In bed, yes,” he admitted without a hint of shame. He felt none.

She shook her head as she threw the covers back and scrambled from the bed.

“You tricked me!” she cried as she grabbed for her discarded chemise and threw it over her head. He watched without moving. “And how did I do that?”

“You should have told me you wanted a slave, you should have told me before you took my virtue.” She looked around as she covered her mouth. “Good Lord, I can’t do that. I can’t surrender everything to you.”

“Why not?”

He pushed off the bed and she took a long step away from him as he grabbed for a robe that was draped across the foot of the bed.

She blinked. “You have seen my nature, you have heard what others say. I–I am not built for such a thing. To give a man everything, especial y one whom I know so little about…that is asking too much.”

“But you already did that.” He smiled. “You could have asked me at any time about what I expected from you, what my proclivities were. Instead you came here and blindly offered yourself to me.”

She shook her head. “Because I had no choice!”

“No.” Gareth smiled. “You
always
had a choice, but some part of you wanted to be under my control. Part of you was titil ated at not knowing what I would do once I had you under my power.”

“That isn’t true,” she whispered, but despite the strength of her denial, he saw the truth glittering in her eyes, even if she couldn’t yet accept it.

“Yes, it is.” He reached out and covered her shoulder with his hand. She blinked, but didn’t move away. He could have crowed with delight. “Don’t you see? Al this could have crowed with delight. “Don’t you see? Al this is the first step, Beatrice. You are already on the road to total and utter surrender. And your sharp nature is part of why I desired you so deeply. You are like a wild fil y that needs to be broken.”

“You are the most insulting man. I’m not a
horse
!”

she snapped and turned away.

He slipped up behind her. She was trembling and the slight movement ricocheted through him. This time, he didn’t touch her, but leaned in close to her ear.

“No, you most certainly are not. But think of how much pleasure I gave you today.”

She drew in a breath to refute what he already knew but he reached around and covered her lips gently with his fingers.

“Don’t deny it, I felt and saw your pleasure very clearly. Think of it, Beatrice. And think of what I could do to you,
for
you, if you were mine in every way.”

There was a moment where he felt her considering this, but she wouldn’t al ow herself to yield. She spun on him.

“No!”

He folded his arms. This was al part of the dance, and in the end, it would be he who led her, or else they could never be truly happy together.

“If you cannot even try, then you should probably go now,” he said softly, knowing exactly what her reaction would be. “I’l fulfil my end of our bargain and provide you with the settlement we arranged. You may return to London at any time; you are not a hostage here.” He hesitated. “Return to your
mother
.”

That made her flinch, and he almost felt sorry for her as she paced away from him to look out the window over his gardens. Although she tried desperately not to show it, Gareth sensed the vulnerability and desperation in Beatrice that she fought so hard to hide beneath her sharp exterior. She knew exactly what would occur if she gave up on their arrangement now. And he was wil ing to wager that she wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

She turned on him slowly. “Wil you hurt me? Beat me?”

He shook his head just as slowly. “Of course not. Dominance does not have to involve pain. And I would never raise a hand to a woman.”

She tilted her head slightly and looked at him with an appraising stare. He almost flinched away from it, for he knew she was thinking of his late wife. Of the rumors that he had, indeed, hurt a woman.

“I cannot promise I’l surrender,” she said. “It isn’t in my nature.”

“That is half the pleasure, Beatrice,” he said, unable to keep a feral smile from his lips. “You are a chal enge.”

He stepped toward her and she lurched back. His smile faded. Clearly, he had not yet ful y convinced her that he would not hurt her physical y. He sighed as he gathered his clothing from the floor.

“You are likely sore at present. I have already made arrangements for you to have a warm bath. You may take your time and join me for supper at seven.”

Beatrice stared at him. “You–you are finished with me?”

He nodded. “For now.”

“But—” She hesitated. “But why?”

A shrug was his answer as he pul ed his trousers over his hips. “I have a fortnight for my pleasure.” He smiled at her again. “Why rush? I wil see you tonight.”

Then he turned and left her to think about what had occurred. And, he hoped, to fantasize about what was to come.

Beatrice would not have admitted it out loud, but the bath was quite restorative, not just to her sore body, but to her racing mind. As she sank down deeper beneath the warm embrace of the water, her troubles and fears drained away, leaving her with only memories of the pleasures she had experienced that day.

She had often imagined what making love to a man would be like. Even as it became clearer and clearer that her chances at marriage were fading, she had stil dreamed of passion and, even in her sil iest moments, love. She had even touched herself, though she had never felt anything like the explosive, blinding release he had given her today.

No, nothing she had dreamed or done came close to sharing her body with Gareth. His hands, his mouth, his cock…they had brought her such sensations she had never imagined. She had never felt closer to another person in her life.

And yet he wanted
more
. He wanted surrender, obedience. He wanted to be her master.

The very thought terrified her, but lurking behind the terror was something else: excitement. She could try to deny the thril al she wanted, but the idea of turning herself over to Gareth completely did make her insides tingle and her hands shake.

She frowned. Less than an hour had passed since Gareth touched her and yet she ached for more pleasure. More than ached—she was obsessed. Al she could think about was her throbbing sheath, the tingling pearl hidden within her folds.

On the other side of the screen that surrounded the tub, she could hear a servant bustling about and tidying up as she put Beatrice’s things away. Did she dare bring herself pleasure when the young woman could hear or see?

Her body throbbed and Beatrice slipped her hand below the water’s surface to cover the mound between her legs. The touch did not ease her ache, but intensified it. She increased the pressure against her folds and bit back a sigh of pleasure at the feel. Just a few moments couldn’t hurt. Not if she was quiet. She bent her fingers and the tips slid between the folds until she caressed the slick wetness of her slit. The flesh was tender from Gareth’s invasion, but that only served to make her more sensitive. Even just this slight touch made her hips buck and a gasp escape her lips. Never had her own fingers brought her such stimulation. It was intense. Addictive.

“Are you quite wel , miss?” came the servant’s voice from around the screen. “May I bring you something?”

Beatrice closed her eyes and tried to measure her breathing before she answered. “N–no. I’m fine. Just continue in your duties.”

She heard the girl moving about again and shivered. There was something so wicked about doing this with another person in the room. Someone who had no idea about how she was touching herself. She let her fingers slide deeper into her sheath and began to slowly work them in and out of her body, mimicking what Gareth had done to her earlier.

To her shock, the tingles of pleasure began to rise, giving her a faint taste of the explosion of release she was working toward. Could she truly give herself that?

She certainly craved that feeling with an intensity that was almost frightening, for it was out of control, guiding her emotions and actions more than her logic was. She ground down over herself, driving her fingers deeply inside of herself, then she found the pearl of her pleasure with her thumb and flicked over it. Unexpectedly, release overtook her, powerful and intense as her hips bucked wildly, making water slosh over the tub’s edge to
thwack
onto the floor. She didn’t care. She rode out the pleasure, breathing heavily, trying to keep herself from a scream of pleasure. Final y she covered her mouth with her free hand, biting into the flesh to remain silent.

The tremors final y subsided, leaving her to col apse back against the tub in sated shock. She lay there for a long moment and then her eyes came open and she stared above her. The girl on the other side of the screen continued her bustling. Had she heard? If so, what did she think?

Beatrice smiled. Did it matter? As Gareth had said earlier, his servants had to be aware of why she was here. She was staying in their master’s room. If the girl thought she was a wanton, then let her. Perhaps Beatrice was becoming one, after al .

She shivered when the word
master
entered her mind. Gareth would be a very different kind of master to her if she decided to al ow him his fantasy. But total surrender…that was terrifying. She didn’t want to entirely depend upon another person for anything, even her pleasure. There was too much risk involved in being so vulnerable.

But she was stuck, wasn’t she? Her maidenhead was gone, the value of it to another man dashed away. That meant Gareth was truly her best choice. If she could only survive…convince him that she was completely and utterly his, he would marry her and set her free from her mother. Once that was done, she could go away to London or another of his estates. In reality, she only had to make him
think
he had won her soul.

She could do that, couldn’t she? Play along with his game until she got what she wanted?

“Are you ready to come out now, miss?” the girl’s voice came from the other side of the barrier. Beatrice thought about the question. Was she ready? Ready for Gareth, ready for his games? If she played some of her own…perhaps she was.

“Yes,” she said, rising up so she would be ready when the girl brought the warm towel around to her. “I’m ready for anything.”

When Beatrice entered the dining hal that evening, Gareth sensed a change in her from the vulnerable, uncertain girl he had left in his bed. When she entered the room, her shoulders were thrust back, making the rose pink silk of her gown strain against the curve of her breasts. She walked with purpose as she moved into the room and al owed a servant to seat her at his right hand. And when she looked at him, it was directly in his eye.

“Good evening, Beatrice,” he said with a smile as he snapped his napkin across his lap.

She nodded before she took a bracing sip of red wine. He watched her throat work as she swal owed and thought of al the things he wanted to teach her to do with that pretty, ful mouth.

“I can see you have been thinking about our talk earlier,” he said.

She nodded. “I have.”

“And have you come to a decision? Should I send for the carriage to take you home…or should I ready myself for the next fortnight with you?”

Her gaze came to his and held, even and so beautiful y blue. At first glance al her stare held was chil y detachment, but Gareth wanted to delve deeper. He had seen her vulnerability before. He knew it was under there, hiding because she feared showing it.