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Authors: Kate Pearce

Simply Carnal (19 page)

BOOK: Simply Carnal
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She tried to stop the gathering pleasure, but she had no control, no ability to stop him from doing exactly what he wanted. The second climax was even more intense than the first, the third so all-encompassing that she started to cry and thrash around as much as she was able.
He reared over her, his eyes narrowed, and cupped her cheek. “You can fight me all you like, but I’m still going to fuck you.” His smile was both triumphant and dangerous. “And you want it.”
She glared back at him. “You are a bastard.”
“Indeed.” He glanced down at her rucked-up skirts to where his cock was still lodged firmly between her thighs. “And you like me just the way I am.”
“I do not!”
“You
want
this.” He pinched her clit and she came again, gasping and fighting against the thick shaft of his cock. “You
understand
this.” He placed his hands on either side of her face and started to pump into her, his hips moving freely, each thrust slamming into her already-sensitive sex. “You
need
this.”
She started to come, and this time he came with her, the hot spurt of his seed high and deep inside her. He slowly pulled out and bent to pick her up. She would have protested, but she feared she would be unable to stand unaided.
She held on to his shoulders, and he laid her gently on the bed and stripped her naked. Then he stood back to take off his clothes. She could do nothing but stare at him and watch as his cock thickened. He crawled into bed and looked down at her. “Are you ready to fight me again?”
She stared up at him and shook her head.
“Are you sure about that?” He bent and set his teeth on her nipple, making her catch her breath. She tried to turn away from him, but he wouldn’t even allow her that luxury.
“Elizabeth.” She forced herself to meet his eyes and he smiled. “I want to fuck you again, but I know what you’ll do if I try.”
“What will I do?” she whispered.
“Let me.” He kissed her forehead. “And I don’t want that kind of submission. I prefer it when you fight me.”
“I can’t right now.” She swallowed down a sudden rush of unwanted tears. “I can’t even think.”
He nodded. “It’s all right.” He kissed her again. “Good night, Mrs. Smith. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She watched him leave and then curled up in a ball, her body still shivering from the intensity of their lovemaking—if she could call it that. It felt more like she had been ravished. She closed her eyes and waited to feel ashamed, but the sensation remained disquietingly absent.
Willingly
ravished. She couldn’t deny that. How had he known that she would love every scorching moment? She’d attacked him,
hurt
him, and he’d reveled in her anger, given it back to her and encouraged her to show him how she truly felt. That was the biggest mystery of all and the thing that scared her more than any of her issues with Armand. Was Christian trying to show her that she could truly be herself with him? And if that was the case, why was he doing it? Surely she meant nothing more to him than any of his other lovers?
16
“W
hat happened to your face?”
Christian grimaced as his mother enfolded him in a perfumed embrace and considered how to answer her. She cupped his cheek with her gloved hand and tutted in disapproval. “Did you go back to that horrible place? Is Mrs. Smith not enough for you?”
Christian gently removed her hand. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business,
Maman
. How are you, and where is Philip this fine morning?”
Helene frowned at him and took a seat in front of his desk. “Philip is out with Richard. I wanted to see you before we travel up north to stay with Lisette and Gabriel. Emily is coming with us, as are Anthony and Marguerite. Richard will join us in a week or so.” She paused. “I hope you have decided to come at least for Christmas?”
“And spoil such a lovely family gathering?”
“Christian ...”
He sat down and regarded his mother across the desk. She looked very fashionable in her green muslin gown and matching pelisse, and scarcely old enough to be the managing mother of three.
“It is always a pleasure to see you,
Maman
. Was there anything in particular you wished to discuss with me?”
“There are two things,” Helene said. “Firstly, I have some more information about your Mrs. Smith.”
“Indeed?”
“I believe I have narrowed down the region of France she came from to Brittany. Apparently, she used the English name Elizabeth Walker when she traveled. I have a man looking into the French families who still reside there. He said he will have answers for me by the end of the week.”
“That is excellent news,
Maman
. Mrs. Smith inadvertently let slip the name of her husband’s cousin to me last night. He is called Armand.”
“I’ll pass that information along to my contact in France.” Helene wrote the name down. “Have you found out anything else?”
Christian relayed the information he had gathered about Elizabeth’s English family, and Helene smiled. “We will soon have her either restored to her rightful place or put the matter in the hands of the best lawyers. Either way, Mrs. Smith will no longer be destitute, in danger, or dependent on our goodwill.”
“That is true,” Christian agreed.
“Will you miss having her as your mistress, Christian?”
“Naturally,
Maman,
” Christian said smoothly. “I will be devastated.”
Helene laughed. “You have never mourned a lost lover, my dear. I’m not sure you have the ability.”
Christian wanted to disagree with her. In truth, the idea of Mrs. Smith leaving him made him feel curiously unsettled. And how was it that his own mother believed he was such a cold fish?
“There is something else you wished to discuss with me?”
“Oh, yes, while I am away with Lisette, I expect you to send me a weekly report about the pleasure house.”
“I intended to do that anyway.” Christian fought his usual desire to defend himself.
“I’m sure you did.” Helene hesitated. “I expect to be away for at least three months.”
“Three months?” That was a surprise. Christian didn’t think his mother had ever left the business for more than a couple of weeks. “Are you sure about that?”
She met his gaze. “I’m very sure.” She rummaged in her reticule and brought out a sealed letter. “I wish you to read this.”
Christian took the letter and broke the wax seal. “It’s from your solicitor.” He frowned as he continued to read before lowering the paper to stare at his mother. “You’re putting fifty percent of the business in my name?”
She nodded. “I think it’s time, don’t you? Philip has always intended to give you his shares in their entirety. I felt it important that I should give you some of mine too.”
“Why now,
Maman?
” Christian asked. “You have always given me the impression that you don’t completely trust me.”
“I trust
you,
Christian. It’s more that I didn’t trust you with my business.” She sighed. “That probably makes no sense to you.”
“But why?” He leaned across the desk, his hands clasped in front of him. “Please, tell me.”
“Because you are so ... self-contained, so contemptuous of those who fail, so
separate
.”
It wasn’t the first time she had said those things to him, but it still riled him. “What does that have to do with the pleasure house? It’s just a business.”
“It isn’t just that. The people who come here might appear to have everything—titles, money, lands—but many of them have other needs they find very difficult to meet in their normal lives.”
“I understand that,” Christian said impatiently. “We provide them with the means to fulfill those needs.”
“Yes, in a business sense we do. But we also provide an emotional release, a place where a duke can grovel on his knees in front of a kitchen maid, or the heir to an earl can spend time with his male lover.”
“So?”
Helene studied him. “Your very tone indicates the problem to me. You don’t see that part as important, do you?”
“
Maman,
what exactly are you trying to say?”
She shook her head. “And it is all my fault. How could I expect you to understand about love and need when I abandoned you for most of your life?”
Christian shifted restlessly in his seat. “Do we have to bring that up? I thought we’d decided not to refer to it again.”
“Yet
you
refer to it all the time. You just choose not to have an open discussion about it.”
“There is nothing to discuss.”
“You decided that as well, Christian, not me.
You
decided it was better to cut yourself off from me and your father and pretend you didn’t give a damn about us.”
“I didn’t
pretend, Maman
. I meant it.” He held her gaze. “I’m not interested in listening to you rehash the past, and I have a perfect right to resent the way you lied to me for the first eighteen years of my life.”
“I made the best provision I could considering the circumstances.”
“So you always say, but it doesn’t change the facts, does it?”
“Christian, if you could just try and understand. I was eighteen. I had no means of supporting myself apart from the pleasure house, and it was hardly a fit place to bring you up!”
“I know all this. Why are you bringing it up again?”
She clasped her hands to her chest, her eyes full of tears. “Because you can’t seem to let it go.”
He frowned at her. “Of course I can. I’m standing here talking to you now, I’m civil to Philip, and I work myself to death in your bloody pleasure house!”
“But you have cut yourself off from everyone.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Christian suddenly realized he was unable to maintain his usual calm politeness. Perhaps having persuaded Mrs. Smith to reveal her true feelings had rubbed off on him.
“You don’t allow anyone to get close to you, Christian.”
“I’m close to Lisette.”
“Not since her wedding. In truth, she is very worried about you and asked me to try my hardest to persuade you to come and spend Christmas with her and Gabriel.”
“I have no desire to intrude on Lisette’s wedded bliss. She knows that,” he said irritably. “It’s not that I lack affection for her.”
Helene sighed. “I’m sure you love her dearly, but ...”
“But what? She was the only person apart from Marguerite who was there with me in France. She is the
only
person who truly understands me.”
“You must feel doubly abandoned, then?”
Christian glared at his mother. “No! Why do you have to make everything about emotions? As I said, I’m very happy for her!”
“I want you to be happy, too, Christian. We all do.”
He picked up the letter. “And you think that giving me these shares will make me happy? Offer me one hundred percent of the business,
Maman,
and I’ll be more than willing to talk to you.”
Helene looked stricken, but he was beyond caring.
He laughed, the sound harsh. “You can’t do it, can you? You can’t give up your business as easily as you gave up your children. It’s always meant more to you than any of us.”
“
Non,
Christian, that’s not true. I ... ,” Helene whispered.
He tossed the letter back onto his desk. “I don’t want the shares on those terms. I’m not surprised at Philip doing this out of guilt because Richard has returned, but you? I don’t want your pity. I’d much rather you considered me capable of running this place.”
“We do consider you capable!” Helene rose to her feet, her color high, her reticule clutched in her fist. “Why can’t you understand that? Why can’t you see?”
Her words reminded him of Elizabeth’s impassioned plea the night before. Was he really so incapable of understanding other people’s feelings? Had he cut himself off so completely that there was no way back? And why the hell should he care anyway? Trying to understand women such as his mother and Elizabeth led to an emotional marshland he would sink into and never escape.
“I have to speak to Ambrose. Please excuse me.”
He stood up and his mother blocked his path. She brought her hand up to touch his cheek, and he flinched away from her.
“Christian,” she said fiercely. “There has never been any contest between the needs of my children and the needs of the pleasure house. You and your sisters will always come first to me.
Everything
I did was for you. I would’ve whored myself out to a thousand men a night if it meant you all lived in safety and security and didn’t have to do what I did.” Her voice shook. “You have to understand that, at least.”
He moved her gently to one side and strode toward the door, ignoring both her attempt to catch at his sleeve and her demand for him to stop. He walked down to the kitchen and paused before he opened the door, realizing he was shaking and that he didn’t want anyone to see him like that. He went down another flight of steps to the cellars.
With a groan, he sat down on the bottom step and shoved his hands into his hair. What in God’s name was the matter with him? He felt ... raw, as if he were the one exposing his soul and not Elizabeth. He stared blankly at the whitewashed wall. Was this what she feared when he forced her to admit how she felt? This exposed? This shattered?
If his mother was right about her love for him—and by God, he couldn’t completely deny what he’d just seen in her eyes—then what was his life all about? Was he really so stuck in the past, still so angry about her betrayal that he couldn’t move on or trust another soul?
Suddenly he missed Lisette so badly that he pressed his hand to his heart. The old Lisette would have at least tried to help him, but he’d pushed her away, hadn’t he? Unsure as to whether she would understand his reasons for going to the Demon Club and aware that she would be worried for him.
Elizabeth would probably understand his sexual needs better than Lisette ever could. There were, after all, some things you could not discuss even with your twin sister. He groaned and the sound echoed around the unlit cavernous space. Was that why he both feared and courted Elizabeth at the same time? She’d managed to separate her emotions from her physical self. Was that why he was so determined to break her, to prove that it couldn’t be done and to vindicate himself?
He took a deep breath. How pathetic was it that he had finally found a woman who both intrigued and delighted him, and yet he was unable to tell her how he felt. Cutting himself off from everyone and holding himself to a higher standard had isolated him as he had originally intended. But was it really what he wanted? He was no longer sure.
 
Elizabeth walked into Christian’s office and found Madame Helene dabbing at her eyes with a wisp of lace handkerchief.
“I’m sorry, madame. I didn’t realize that you were here. Shall I come back later?”
“Oh, no, no, please come in. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
Elizabeth came in and shut the door. “I was looking for Mr. Delornay. The wine merchant is wanting someone to look over his accounts.”
“Christian isn’t ...” Madame’s perfect features crumpled. “He is very angry with me.”
“Oh, dear.” Elizabeth guided Madame to a chair and crouched down in front of her. “Are you quite well, ma’am? Can I fetch you a glass of wine or something stronger?”
Madame reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “Thank you, but no,” she sighed. “I made the mistake of commenting on Christian’s scratched face.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat up. “Well, as to that ...”
Madame kept talking. “I asked him not to go to the Demon Club again, and he obviously didn’t listen.”
Elizabeth remembered the afternoon when Christian had returned with his face scratched and stinking of perfume. “You don’t approve of the club?”
BOOK: Simply Carnal
10.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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