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Authors: Kate Pearce

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BOOK: Simply Carnal
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“And give nothing in return?”
“I am highly skilled, Mr. Delornay. I doubt I will leave you unsatisfied.”
He pictured her beneath him, her naked body rising to meet his thrusts, her fine skin flushed with pleasure as he fucked her. Would her composure break then? He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “I look forward to it, Mrs. Smith. Shall we proceed?”
 
Elizabeth allowed him to escort her up the narrow flight of uncarpeted stairs. She found the idea of bedding Mr. Delornay because she
wanted to
rather erotic. She’d earn the money she needed from her other duties and would consider his attentions as an additional benefit to be experienced and enjoyed at her leisure.
She touched her mouth. The kiss had been expected, her reaction to its gentleness and brevity quite
unexpected
. Most of her lovers hadn’t bothered to kiss her, their intent being to get themselves between her legs or into her mouth as quickly as possible to gain their release.
She pushed that thought away and studied her surroundings. The hall was narrower here and pitched at an angle. There were less than a dozen doors leading off the space and only one entrance at the end of it guarded by a large man dressed in the house’s livery. She jumped when Mr. Delornay touched her shoulder.
“The rooms are all similar.” He reached around her to open the nearest door, his arm brushing against the underside of her breast. She inhaled the scent of leather and sawdust and fixed her eyes on the wooden rack that dominated the room.
“The guests who frequent this floor enjoy the more painful aspects of pleasure,” Mr. Delornay murmured. “Sometimes the more painful the better.”
“I have met people like that.” Elizabeth nodded as she surveyed the whips on the walls along with the chains and gags.
“And is it something that interests you?”
She turned slowly to face Mr. Delornay, who leaned up against the door frame. His expression was as inscrutable as she suspected her own was; only the thick bulge of his cock visible in his buckskin breeches displayed his interest. She allowed her gaze to linger on his groin until he smiled, shifted his stance, and his fingers caressed his hardening shaft.
“You are teasing me, Mrs. Smith.”
“As I said, sir, I am willing to do whatever you wish.”
He walked toward her, filling the small space with his presence and his clean, laundered scent.
“Even if I wished to tie you up and whip you before I fucked you?”
She shrugged and her gown fell off her right shoulder. “As long as you didn’t kill me in the process.”
He chuckled and bent to kiss her exposed skin. His hazel eyes were more gold than green and narrowed with lust. Her faint hope of his actually liking her died. She’d never understood what it was that made men want her, but it seemed Mr. Delornay was no different. She braced herself for his touch, but he stayed still, an arrested expression on his face.
“Let’s go and look at the main salon, shall we?”
He turned and walked out the door, leaving her feeling breathless and unsure. She’d been certain he was about to take her, to force her, and yet he’d turned away. Was it possible that he meant what he said and was capable of bedding her without expecting more than she was willing to give?
In her experience, men were contrary creatures who simply took what they wanted from her until she no longer appealed and then discarded her. She’d learned not to be surprised by that, had been glad of it by the end, after the horrible episode with Gaston... .
“Mrs. Smith?”
Elizabeth hurried after Mr. Delornay, nodding at the redheaded man guarding the door, who let her pass with a smile. As she had expected, the room was a glorified version of the more intimate chambers. An array of leather, chains, whips, and sexual instruments was displayed on the bloodred walls, and the floors were bare boards.
In one corner, a man was wielding a long whip over the back of a woman strapped to one of the leather horses. She moaned with each crack of the whip, her body arching against the lash and then falling. The man talked to her in a low soothing tone as he beat her, one hand fisted in her long brown hair.
Elizabeth walked around the edge of the room until she could see the woman’s face, see the tears dripping from her eyes as she moaned the man’s name. With a sudden exclamation, the man threw the whip away, ripped open his breeches, and shoved his cock deep into the woman’s sex. He braced his hands on the edge of the leather and pounded into her, his words muffled as he kissed her neck.
“She isn’t being forced to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
Mr. Delornay’s quiet voice brought Elizabeth out of her memories and back into the present. The smell of sex permeated the air as the man continued to fuck the woman.
“I know that. I saw her face. She was in heaven.”
“Yet it disturbed you.”
She glanced back at him. She really needed to be careful. He was already far too astute at reading her face.
“Not at all.” She took a deep breath and turned toward him. “You said you would like to do that to me. Do you intend to start now?”
“Nicely done, Mrs. Smith. For how many years have you been perfecting the art of distracting men with the promise of sex?”
She allowed her gaze to rest on his cock. “I never realized men needed distracting from their primary aim, sir.”
His low laugh surprised her yet again. He bowed and turned back toward the door. “Shall we return to my office, Mrs. Smith, and discuss the terms of your employment?”
“Did I pass muster, then, Mr. Delornay?”
“As if you need to ask that.”
He bowed and held the door open for her. Behind them the woman screamed in release and the man groaned her name. Elizabeth allowed herself a small, complacent smile.
“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint, sir.”
He gazed down at her. “If you have no objections, I’ll arrange for your belongings to be placed in the room opposite mine.”
So it was to begin, then, their sexual liaison. She couldn’t say she was surprised, and he was a lot more palatable than many of the men she had been forced to bed. She nodded. “I have no objections, Mr. Delornay, but I have no belongings.”
“I believe Ambrose has had some success retrieving your things from your landlord. Go and find him in the kitchen and then meet me in my office.”
4
“W
elcome to the pleasure house, Mrs. Smith.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Elizabeth smiled as Lieutenant Paul St. Clare toasted her with his tankard of ale and then brought it to his lips and drained every drop. It was late in the evening, and she was sitting at the large pine table in the kitchen. Madame Durand was shouting orders at her staff, and the smell of roasting chickens and spices filled the lofty basement space. To add to the noise level, the second shift of upstairs waitstaff was assembling for Christian to give them their orders for the night.
Elizabeth glanced uncertainly over at the crowd and put down her bread. “Should I be attending Mr. Delornay?”
Ambrose shook his head. “You’ve already done enough for your first day, Elizabeth. Mr. Delornay said to tell you that you are free to retire whenever you wish.”
Elizabeth smiled at Ambrose. “Thank you for all your help.”
He shrugged. “I did very little. You learn quickly.”
“Indeed you do, Mrs. Smith,” Lieutenant St. Clare said. “I was most impressed. You seemed to be everywhere tonight.” He held out his hand and firmly shook Elizabeth’s. “And, please, call me Paul. I hate being reminded of my army rank.”
“You shouldn’t be down here, sir,” Ambrose said without much conviction. “You’re a guest.”
“I’m practically family.” Paul snorted. “Has Christian been telling you to chase me off again?”
Ambrose opened his mouth to speak and then glanced up as the back door opened. His smile became warmer and he rose to his feet.
“Miss Emily!”
A tall girl with brown hair and brown eyes came into the kitchen. She was dressed in a cream satin ball gown that Elizabeth immediately coveted.
“Good evening, everyone!”
“Good evening, Miss Emily.”
Paul stood, too, and bowed. Dressed as he was, in a toga and crooked laurel wreath, he didn’t look much like the military man he claimed to be, but more like a slightly rakish fallen angel.
“How is it that you welcome Miss Emily and not me? She isn’t exactly staff either, is she?”
“She is
family
.” Ambrose fetched a bowl of hot chocolate from the cook and slid it across the table to Emily, who had taken the seat beside Elizabeth.
Emily studied Elizabeth and held out her hand, her brown eyes full of interest. “Good evening. I’m Emily Ross.”
“Emily is Christian’s half sister,” Paul volunteered as he helped himself to more buttered bread and ale. “Despite what Ambrose says, she’s not supposed to be here either.”
“Oh, do be quiet, Paul,” Emily said, and Paul winked at her. “I’ve done my duty and attended a terribly dull piano recital with my chaperone. Now I just want the opportunity to drink some of Madame’s delicious hot chocolate and relax for a while.”
Elizabeth shook the proffered hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ross. I’m Elizabeth Smith, a new employee at the pleasure house.”
“Mrs. Smith is Christian’s assistant.” Paul grinned wickedly as Emily’s eyes opened wide.
“Christian’s
assistant?
However did that happen?”
Ambrose went to say something, but Elizabeth answered for herself. “I fear he was persuaded into it by Madame Helene.”
Emily studied Elizabeth and then nodded decisively. “I think it will be good for him. He spends all his time here these days and never seems to smile anymore. Despite what he claims, I believe he misses Lisette quite dreadfully.” She picked up her bowl of hot chocolate and sipped it with a sigh. “Madame Durand is such a treasure... .”
As a headache threatened behind her eyes, Elizabeth rose to her feet. Who on earth was Lisette? The complicated relationships of the Delornay-Ross family were too confusing for her to deal with right now.
“I think I will take Mr. Delornay’s advice and seek my bed. I am quite fatigued.”
Three pairs of eyes filled with speculation fastened on her, and she fought an unexpected urge to blush. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ross, and you, too, Lieutenant.”
The men rose and Paul came around to her side. “I have to get back to my all-male orgy, so I’ll escort you upstairs.”
“That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant, but thank you,” Elizabeth said, and headed for the door.
He kept pace with her on the stairs anyway, chatting easily about the weather and the excellence of Madame Durand’s cooking. Elizabeth hesitated when she reached the second level and looked up at him. His skin gleamed faintly with oil, and his right shoulder and arm were completely exposed in his Roman garb. His build was slight and he wasn’t particularly tall, but she sensed the strength in him.
His smile was devastatingly sweet.
“Are you worried I’ll see where you are sleeping and tell the others?”
There was no malice in his question or anything other than gentle interest.
“I have my own room, sir.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“And I intend to sleep in it.”
“I do not doubt it. Have we embarrassed you with our interest about your sleeping arrangements?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Not at all, sir. Your interest is not unexpected. I
am
living in a bawdy house.”
“Don’t let Madame Helene hear you call it that and, please, call me Paul.” He touched her cheek, the caress so light it was almost nonexistent. “If you want some company in that bed of yours, I would be happy to oblige you.”
“That is very kind of you, Lieutenant, but—”
“Paul, please.” He placed his finger over her lips. “But you are already taken.”
“It is part of my employment.”
His soft laughter made her tense up. “Oh my word, I can’t believe Christian had to resort to that.”
She raised her chin and gave him her most confident smile. “Perhaps the conditions were mine, sir.”
“Christian has been known to share his lovers.”
“Living here, as he does, I can quite believe it.”
“He didn’t grow up here. From what I can piece together, he was brought up in France and came over at the age of eighteen to find his mother.” He chuckled. “I believe the existence of the pleasure house was something of a surprise to all of Madame’s children.”
Elizabeth considered that interesting snippet of information and shivered. No wonder the relationship between Mr. Delornay and his mother appeared a little strained.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Smith. Christian is perfectly respectable now.” Paul caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You might be seeing me again one night. Christian has taught me a lot about making love to a woman, although it is not my natural inclination.”
“Then why do it?”
It was a strange conversation to be having with a man she barely knew in the stairway of a pleasure house. She couldn’t seem to prevent asking the most impolite of questions. Perhaps her husband’s death had liberated her in more ways than one.
“Because I find I do not wish to bring my family into disrepute. If I am seen consorting with a woman here occasionally, they can avoid the disgrace of having a known Molly in the family.”
“And what about you? What do you want?”
His smile was charming but quite devoid of emotion. “I’ve realized that making love to a woman can be quite ... pleasant. So, perhaps my friends’ and family’s attempts to widen my horizons have met with some success.” He let go of her hand. “And I have been monopolizing your time quite dreadfully. Good night, Mrs. Smith.”
She watched him walk away with his lithe grace and natural elegance. Despite his best efforts to disguise it, his aristocratic breeding showed. She bit her lip. And now he had made her worry again. She truly had no idea of Mr. Delornay’s sexual tastes. For all she knew, he might invite forty men to share her. She shivered at the thought. He struck her as a very private man, but she of all people knew that a man’s sexual tastes were not always obvious or conventional.
She took out the key he had given her and unlocked the door that separated the public part of the house from the private. It was much quieter here, the colors less garish and the artwork more soothing than stimulating. Her slippers sank into the thick carpet as she moved like a ghost through the deserted halls.
Her room came in sight and she opened the door with a relieved sigh. Someone had laid a fire in the grate, lit some candles, and turned down her bed. She stared at the blue satin counterpane. Would Christian join her there tonight? It seemed more than likely.
She wrapped her arms around herself. He’d given her more than a week’s grace, so she should consider herself lucky. Most men would’ve taken her up on her first desperate offer in his study and not cared about the consequences. In truth, it would be no hardship bedding Christian Delornay. He was unlikely to see her as more than a passing diversion, and he expected nothing more from her than gracious compliance.
She sat down in the large wing chair, kicked off her borrowed slippers, and contemplated the flames. And she was good at complying. She’d learned the hard way that it was possible to allow her body to be used and yet set her mind free. She yawned and studied the turned-down bed. A minute here before the fire to warm her and then she would undress and await his appearance. He probably wouldn’t be long....
She awoke with a start to the sound of the door opening and opened her eyes to see Christian, his blond hair gleaming like a gold coin in the candlelight. His gaze drifted from the empty bed to the fire, and she blinked at him.
“Did you fall asleep, Mrs. Smith?”
“I must have done.” Elizabeth rubbed hastily at her eyes and tried to untangle her stockinged feet from her skirts. “What time is it?”
Christian approached the fire, and she noted that he still wore his immaculately fitted evening clothes. “It is a little past midnight.” He paused. “If you are tired, I can leave.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m perfectly ready to receive you.” Elizabeth fixed a smile on her face. Better to get it over with now rather than endure another night of uncertainty. She struggled to her feet and found his hand already waiting to aid her. “Thank you, sir.”
He cupped her cheek and stared down into her eyes. “I fear you must find me a little autocratic in our dealings. I wish to make it clear that your employment is not dependent on you sharing my bed.”
She didn’t believe that for a moment and wondered what he would do if she actually dared to send him on his way. “That is very kind of you, sir, but I’m still happy to proceed.”
He studied her for a moment and then kissed her forehead. “Then may I help you undress?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Christian.” His long fingers stroked down from her chin to her shoulder and she shivered. His thumb settled on the lace at her bodice and slipped beneath the borrowed silk to caress her flesh. “We must have some clothes made that fit you. This gown is far too big.”
“I had to borrow it from Marie-Claude. I sold most of my gowns in order to afford to eat.” Elizabeth managed to keep her voice calm as he continued his maddeningly slow exploration of her throat and shoulders. “I will purchase more when I earn sufficient funds.”
His fingers met at the back of her gown, and he started to unhook it, causing the short puffed sleeves to fall to her elbows and trap her arms against her sides. He made no effort to free her, his attention all on the upper curves of her small bosom. He bent his head and licked a wet path down between her breasts, his hands busy again at her back unlacing her corset.
Elizabeth made no effort to grab at her stays as they came away from her skin. She allowed him to look his fill, to touch and cup her breasts through her thin shift as the corset fell unheeded to the carpet. He murmured his appreciation as he pushed the rest of her gown down along with her simple petticoat. His thumbs came back to rest on her breasts, and she closed her eyes as he rubbed and circled her nipples into hard, aching points.
“Mrs. Smith?”
She reluctantly opened her eyes to find him looking at her. Up close, his eyes were more golden than brown.
“Don’t close your eyes. I want you to watch me taking you. I want you to see it all.” He slid his hand around the back of her neck. “Unpin your hair for me.”
She raised her hands and set about the laborious task of unpinning and unplaiting her long hair. While her fingers were busy, his wandered over her body, touching and learning every inch of her flesh.
“Your hair is much longer than I first imagined,” he murmured as he smoothed a long strand through his fingers. “And a thing of beauty. Put your arms around me and kiss me.”
There was a note of command in his soft request that made her want to obey him. She went up on tiptoe and kissed his chin, then the sensual curve of his lips. His mouth descended, taking possession of the kiss and deepening it until his heat consumed her. He lifted her against him, the hard press of his cock rubbing against her sex.
He wrenched his mouth away and set her back on her feet. “Help me undress. I want to be inside you.”
BOOK: Simply Carnal
4.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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