A Riding Crop for Two (9 page)

He snorted. “My father
objected quite strenuously to our joining. I told him of my intent to marry
you.”

Liv’s
mouth hung open in shock. Damn, he hadn’t wanted to
broach the subject in such a way.

“You wish to marry—me?”

She sounded so
disbelieving.

“As quickly as we
can see it done.
I see no reason to delay. We love each other.”

“I did not expect
marriage.
Perhaps a long-term, mutually pleasurable affair,
but marriage?
I am shocked.”

Gideon’s mouth
quirked in amusement.
“Yes, I see that you are.”

“But we’ve have known
each other barely a week...”

“Yet, we are soul mates.
Broken things that together make a complete being.”

Her face flushed. “You
read my letter.”

“I did. I was frantic
for any reason why you left, and where you might have gone. Forgive me for
invading your privacy.” He stood and held out his hand. “Take my hand and come
away with me, now.”

****

Olivia stared at the
large, masculine hand held out toward her. He had long elegant fingers; she
already knew his touch was potent and dizzying. She had been so convinced
Gideon was behind this. Now, looking into his glittering, onyx-colored eyes,
she knew the truth. This man loved her and would never, ever hurt her.
 
God, she really was a fool. Thanks to her
past, she thought the absolute worst of the man she claimed to love. Without
hesitating, she slipped her hand in his.

He squeezed it, and
pulled her up to stand before him. He let go of her hand and those magical
fingers gently roved over her face.

“Are you in pain? What
did they do to you?”

She could not help but
lean into his warmth and comforting touch.

“James called in a
physician, no broken bones. I will heal. A few punches and kicks. It could have
been so much worse.”

Olivia could see the
purple rage Gideon fought to tamp down. He leaned in and kissed her nose.

“My father is a cold
bastard. He wants me to marry a woman of the ton. I refused. I would not put
this attack beyond his scope. I told him you were a vicar’s daughter, but
considering my past, he assumed you were a whore.”

Olivia nuzzled his hand.
“I am a whore, Gideon.”

His gaze locked with
hers, he held her face in place so she could not glance way.

“Never, ever refer to
yourself as a whore again, not in my hearing. You worked at a brothel, nothing
more. Even if you did sell your body, I don’t bloody well care. You are mine.
We belong together. We mend each other. You know we do.”

She nodded. “Yes, I
know. What happens next, Gideon?”

“You, my love, will pack
everything you wish to bring with you, and you and your trunk are coming home
with me. Then, if you are able, I will make love to you all night, or as long
as you can tolerate my attentions. In the morning, we are off to
Scotland
to
take our vows. We’ll go by train, first class all the way. There is a cottage
in the Highlands, not far from
Inverness
, that
belongs to the family. We will honeymoon there—if you wish.” He kissed her nose
again, and nuzzled her cheek.

“I’ve never been to
Scotland
. How
many homes does your family have?” she laughed.

“Six, no seven.”
He smiled.

Olivia stopped laughing.
“Truly, Gideon.
 
We’ve only just met. How is it we can trust and love each other so
thoroughly, despite my brief lack of faith? Most people will think us mad. This
isn’t normal. This sort of whirlwind love affair only happens in fairy
stories.”

“Good. I don’t want
normal.
If our life together resembles a fairy story or one
of those outrageous penny novels, all the better.”

She stood on the tips of
her toes and kissed him. Gideon groaned and took the kiss deeper. When she
flinched, he stepped back.

“Sorry, love.” His thumb
brushed by her cut lip. “Someone will pay, I vow it.”

Olivia hugged him tight.
The faint scent of sandalwood soap filled her nostrils.
Comfort,
warmth and solid strength.
That was Gideon.

“Take me home,” she
whispered.

****

When Gideon returned to
the townhouse with
Liv
and her small trunk in tow, he
saw to it she’d been properly settled in his rooms. He personally ran a bath
and left her to soak and relax in lavender-scented bubbles.

He descended the stairs,
and found Hobson in the study, giving orders to the maid. They both moved
toward the door when they noticed his presence.

“Wait, Hobson. I wish to
speak to you.”

“Of course, My
Lord.”

“Hobson, I hired you
myself, did I not?”

“You did, My Lord. Seven
years ago,” he replied.

“I can trust you, I
know. I wish you to run an errand for me. There are several paintings in my
rooms. I have purchased them myself over the past ten years. I want you to sell
them.
This afternoon.
For cash.
Also, a few figurines and statues in my room, sell those as well. Can you see
to this?”

Hobson inclined his
head.
“At once, My Lord.
I know just the place.”

“Good. Before you go,
please see there is a supper tray left outside my rooms.
Enough
for two.
I am not disturbed the rest of the evening.”

“Of course, My
Lord.”
Hobson bowed
slightly, turned and left the room.

Gideon rubbed his hands
together in irritation. He needed immediate cash in the hand. This would see it
done. He had no time to go to the bank tomorrow and withdraw from his allowance
account. Besides, he did not want his father informed of any transactions, and
he would bet the insufferable man kept track of all the monetary dealings on
that particular account.

They would leave at
first light and make their way to the station and catch the first train heading
north. He would instruct Hobson to see to the packing of their trunks and their
shipping to
Inverness
.

He paced the floor as he
recalled his conversation with
Liv
on the carriage
ride home. She told him the men who abducted her were rough-looking and
speaking, just the type his father would keep around. Louts and bullies to a
fault. He laughed when she told him her names for them.
“Yellow
Teeth and Wool Trousers.”
 
The
situation itself, however, was far from humorous. His blood still boiled that
Liv
had been subjected to such patent cruelty. She had
apologized for doubting him again, but he waved it off. While a part of him
ached that she had believed the lies, however briefly, another part understood
the reasons for her suspicions.

Life with
Liv
would never be dull. He looked forward to the adventure
ahead.

Chapter Nine

Olivia had soaked in the
tub until the water turned cold and her skin wrinkled. The bath felt glorious.
She sat at the counter and brushed her damp hair. She wore one of Gideon’s silk
dressing gowns, his spicy scent wrapping her in calm serenity.

She turned her head and
gasped. Gideon leaned against the doorframe wearing nothing but black trousers,
the buttons undone with part of his erection exposed. A decided thrill thrummed
through her body. How long had he been standing there watching?

He padded up behind her,
reached for the brush and gently ran it through her long, flowing locks. She
leaned her head back against his solid, muscular chest. Kitten-like mews of
satisfaction left her throat with each glide.

“Your hair is a crowning
glory. God, how I want it draped across my thighs as you—”

She glanced at him in
the mirror’s reflection.
“As I what?”

“Suck my cock. Make me
come. Swallow every bit of me.” He laughed at seeing her eyes go wide in the
mirror. “It appears I am as rumor states—quite decadent and insatiable.
Fathomless depths of stamina.
But know this, only for you,
Liv
, and you alone.”

A lump formed in her
throat.
His words.
He had given her everything without question. His heart, his soul, his trust
and love,
and
yet, she had doubted him. Pain laced
through her.

“Gideon, please try to
understand. It is not so much that I didn’t trust you. I did not trust my own
feelings. I eventually accepted the explanation that you tossed me aside
because isn’t that what men do? At least, the ones I allow myself to love. Yes,
I
lumped
you in with my miserable father, and I was
wrong to do so. I accepted the blow of your supposed rejection so I could move
on. I am beginning to doubt I will ever be able to love with my whole heart.
Can I ever trust a man not to hurt me again?” She paused. Gideon had stopped brushing
her hair and stared at her through the mirror. His gaze intense, his lips
thinned as he waited for her to continue. “If there is any man I wish to love
and trust with my entire being it is you, Gideon. The hole in my heart left by
my father will mend. You will be the healer.”

Gideon laid the brush on
the counter and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Love, my father is not
much better. The cold, indifferent Lord Craven you met that night at The Riding
Crop was molded in ice by the man himself. I knew no other way. I did not feel
a fucking thing until you. He married my mother for position—not
love
. I’ll be damned if I will live my life like that. I
hardly remember my mother, but she was a sad, despondent, but lovely creature.
She died when I was seven. I knew nothing of love—until you.”

Olivia reached up and
clasped his hand. “We truly are broken, are we not?”

He leaned down and
kissed the top of her head. “Not anymore.”

Olivia stood, took
Gideon’s hand and led him out into the bedroom. She pulled down his trousers
until they hit the floor. He kicked them aside. Good God, his body was a feast
for the eyes.

“Lie down and I will do
as you wish. Spread my hair across your thighs, suck your cock...”

He pulled her tight
against him and kissed her intensely, cutting off the rest of her sentence. She
tasted hunger in his kiss, desire, lust, and love. Everything she felt as well.
Her hands tunneled through his thick, layered hair. She fisted a handful and
pulled him in for an even deeper kiss. A low, husky rumble left the corner of
his mouth. Gideon awakened such emotions in her. Not only emotions, but dark
desires. Scenarios had been playing in her mind, usually at night in her
dreams. She and Gideon in a box at the theater, with him on his knees licking her
quim
while the performance continued below on the
stage. Another scene had them in a park, people passing by, she leaned against
a hedge, her back skirts raised discreetly, while Gideon fucked her from
behind, hidden by the foliage, only his cock poking through the leaves as he
pounded her as if he were a forest satyr.

It seemed she had an
exhibitionist streak of her own. Gideon broke the kiss, stepped out of his
trousers and lay on the bed. She could not stop her fingers from touching the
very masculine part of him. He was so hard, thick, long, and beautiful. She had
never had a man’s cock in her mouth. Gideon moaned with every stroke of her
fingers. No time like the present. She dropped the dressing gown on the floor
then climbed on the bed, straddling his slim hips. She laid flat between his
spread legs and grasped his shaft at the base, squeezing tight.

“Oh, Christ.
Yes. Grip it tighter,” he growled.

First, she laid out her
long hair on either side of him, creating a blanket of blonde locks. Olivia gripped
him again, squeezed, and then slid her hand up and down the length of him.

“Tell me what you want
me to do, Gideon. Instruct me. Guide me.”

“God, you expect me to
talk?” he laughed brokenly. “Think of your mouth as your
quim
,
hot, wet, and tight. Hollow your cheeks and take me deep. Lick, nibble, suck,
do whatever you wish. Grip me at the root and guide it into your lush mouth.
Grasp me tight, squeeze and twist. Suck me.”

She smiled at the look
of anticipation on his handsome face. Her mouth closed over the swollen head,
and Gideon cried out, his head lifting off the pillow. She took him deeper and
then commenced to lick, suck, and nibble on his salty, musky tasting cock. She
scraped her teeth along the many veins.

“Oh,
fuuuccckkkk
—suck
me. Yes. Deeper—”