First Sinners (4 page)

She could only gape at him as he widened her knees and pushed his shoulders between them.

“What are you going to do? Oh my
goodness!
”

His tongue swirled around her already throbbing bud, making her lift her hips in silent, frantic appeal. He continued licking her, moving down to suck at her nether lips and slide his tongue inside her. She grabbed for his head and held tightly to his hair as the incredible sensations multiplied and intensified. He shifted slightly, the stubble on his cheek brushing her most intimate flesh, making her gasp.

He murmured something against her clit and then sucked it into his mouth as he inserted one finger inside her. She climaxed, her fingernails digging into his scalp and her sex grinding shamelessly against his working mouth and finger. After a few moments, his hand closed over hers in his hair and gently tugged at her fingers.

“Ouch.”

“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

Her cheeks were heated and her heart pounding as if she had run a race. He smiled up at her, his expression satisfied, and slowly licked his lips.

“There is pain and then there is ecstasy. I didn’t even notice until after I’d felt you come around me.”

“You felt that?”

He leaned back so that he could study her better. “You must have experienced that inner clenching of your muscles when you pleasure yourself.”

“A little,” she confessed. “But I had no idea you would be able to feel it too. It was far more intense.”

“That’s because I know what I’m doing.” He reached forward and kissed her inner thigh. “When I have my cock in you, I’ll feel it even more.”

“You are very large.”

“I’ll fit, don’t worry.” He rose from the floor in one easy motion. “Now, perhaps we should make ourselves respectable again, and discuss the books?”

He held out his hand and she took it, her skirts and petticoats falling over her throbbing and still needy sex. He set himself to rights and turned back to the desk, his expression composed. Faith stared at him and patted at her flushed face. How could he appear so unaffected so quickly? Was this such a commonplace thing for him to do that he could treat it as unworthy of comment?

“You appear a little disheveled. May I help you with your dress?”

She turned around so that he could tighten her laces, and rebutton the back of her bodice. He worked as quickly and efficiently as a lady’s maid. She shivered when he dropped a kiss on her shoulder.

“You are very quiet.”

“I’m obviously not as good at this philandering as you are.”

He chuckled, the sound warm against her throat. “Are you regretting getting tangled up with a rake?”

“Are you a rake?”

“That is my reputation.”

“Then why aren’t you seeking a place in my sister’s bed instead? She is far more beautiful than I am.”

He turned her around and looked down at her. “You have enthusiasm and a willingness to be corrupted that your sister will never have. I’ll wager she will keep her legs firmly closed until she is married to her peer of the realm, and even then the poor man will have to bargain to get an heir from her.”

She opened her mouth to defend her sister, but he put his finger against her lips.

“I am not implying that what she wants is wrong, just that she is imminently more practical about love and marriage than you will ever be.”

“Most people would disagree with you about that.”

He kissed her slowly, his tongue flicking against hers until she responded and he bit down on her lower lip. She tasted herself. She tasted him. “But they don’t really know you, do they?” he murmured. “You hide yourself quite admirably, but beneath that prim exterior beats the heart of a wanton.”

Faith had never heard herself described thusly, and she found it quite thrilling. “I prefer to think of myself as a student of the wonders of the world.”

He chuckled. “You can call it what you like, but you are an adventurer just as your great-uncle Pelly was.”

“But I can’t be. He was a man.”

“You are embarking on an adventure with me, aren’t you?”

“One that might lead to my ruin.” She hunched her shoulder at him. “It really isn’t fair.”

“I know.” He stepped away from her. “And yet you want me, don’t you? Want to finish what we’ve started, want me deep inside you, bringing you pleasure you have only dreamed about.”

“Yes.” She slowly nodded and his brown eyes narrowed. “I want you, but it still isn’t wise. If I lose my reputation, it will impact my entire family.”

He took the seat behind the desk, reminding her of her father. “Then you do not wish to continue our liaison?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s honest at least.”

She walked away from him. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s been quite easy so far. I haven’t noticed anyone caring that we have been alone together for almost an hour.”

She marched up to the desk and set her hands on the front of it. “That’s because no one in their right mind believes that you would be interested in me.”

“But I am.”

“You are
infuriating
. What if I let you inside me, and I get with child?”

He blinked at her, his ridiculously long eyelashes shielding his thoughts. “I won’t get you pregnant. There are ways to prevent conception.”

“Are you just saying that because you are an accomplished rake used to getting his way, or do you speak the truth?”

“The truth. I can pull out before I come, I can wear a French letter over my cock and trap the seed, or you can insert a sponge soaked in vinegar inside you.”

“How do you know these things work?”

“
Because
I am an accomplished rake who has no bastard children.”

“That you know of.”

He caught her chin in his fingers. “If you did catch a child from me, we would be married.”

“That isn’t entirely your decision, is it?”

“I will not ruin you, and I will never allow a child of mine to be born a bastard.”

She angled her head on one side to consider her. “Why not?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it so important to you?”

“Because I grew up in India.” He turned away from her, his expression harsh. “Nearly all my mother’s friends were Englishmen’s mistresses, and nearly all of them were abandoned when the Englishmen concerned returned home to their Christian wives.”

“Your mother wasn’t one of them, though.”

“No, she insisted on a true marriage. My father was temporarily besotted enough to agree. He regretted it almost immediately.” He turned back to Faith. “You should be the one insisting I marry you.”

“Like all your other women? If you are so worried about creating a bastard, have you thought of practicing restraint in carnal matters?”

He came around the desk toward her and lifted her against him. “I like ‘carnal matters’ far too much to do without them. I crave them.” He kissed her hard, and she couldn’t help but respond. “Shall I make you unable to do without me? Shall I make you crave my touch, my mouth, my cock?”

“Oh, please, don’t.”

“Perhaps it is already too late. You are already changing.” He kissed her again, his hand cupping her bottom and pressing her against the new swell of his cock. “When you see me next you’ll be thinking about how it felt to have me in your mouth, wondering how I’ll feel between your thighs making you scream with pleasure.”

“I will not.” Faith pulled away and pretended to smooth her hair. “I think we should be getting back, don’t you?”

He smiled at her. “Coward.”

“It is not cowardice, merely common sense.”

His smile was an invitation to sin. “Can’t you picture it, Faith? You naked and spread under me? My mouth on your mouth, my cock thrusting deep inside you?”

“I—”

He blew her a kiss. “Run away, little bird, but don’t forget to come back to me soon. And, if you think of it, bring that sponge soaked in vinegar so that I can ease inside you and stay inside you when I come.”

“My lord, you are impertinent, you are—”

“A rake?” He bowed. “Indeed, and don’t you ever forget that, Miss Pelly. Protect yourself. I’ll help you learn what you need to know, but never trust me.”

“I have no intention of doing so!”

His faint smile disappeared. “Don’t.”

She turned, wrestled with the key for what seemed like forever, wrenched open the door, and ran.

3

It was raining, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. Faith could already hear the waves thundering against the cliff, indicating there was also a storm on the way. She tied the ribbons of her bonnet more firmly in a neat bow, put on her warmest gloves, and wrestled with the back door in an attempt to pry it open.

“May I assist you?”

A hand reached over her head and expertly dislodged the old door, which then attempted to fling itself against the wall in a fit of pique. The Earl of Westbrook caught the door before it hit her, and ushered her outside into the wind before slamming it behind them.

“Thank you.”

He had already turned and was looking up at the stone façade of the house. “This is a fascinating house.”

“It is quite old. Our family was staunchly Royalist during the Civil War. This house was even under siege for a week or so.”

“I can well imagine it.” His appreciative gaze swept the crenellations that graced the entire length of the roofline. “Did they have cannons up there and boiling oil?”

“They did have cannons. There are records of them in the library archive.”

“No boiling oil?” He turned back to her, his black hair curling around his beautiful, austere face, his dark eyes alight with mischief.

“No,” she said repressively.

“What a shame.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”

She ignored him, looked straight ahead, and started walking in the direction of the cliff path. He fell in beside her, his gloved hands clasped behind his back.

“I suspect there will be a storm. I can taste it in the air.”

“I believe you are correct, my lord.”

“Oh, we’re being formal this morning, are we? You’ve shocked yourself with your carnal appetites and now you are feeling as remorseful as any well-brought-up Englishwoman should.”

“I’m not feeling guilty about that at all.” She kept her gaze on the treacherously slippery path that led toward the cliffs. “I’m simply trying not to break my neck.”

“If you’d taken my arm, you’d feel much safer.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“But you are in rather a dark mood. Tell me, has your sister been nagging you again?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since last night. It’s—” She stopped speaking and grabbed hold of his arm. “Hide!”

With a speed and compliance she hadn’t quite anticipated, he whisked her behind a hawthorn bush into a small copse of trees. He retained hold of her arm as the sound of hoof beats approached them and went by.

After a few more moments of straining to hear another sound, Faith let out her breath. “I think he’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

She stared up into Lord Westbrook’s brown eyes, from which all traces of amusement and laziness had been erased. To her astonishment, he had a small pistol in his hand.

“I’m not sure.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Then why are we hiding?”

“
Because
I’m not sure.”

He continued to look down at her and she sighed. “When I went into the stables to retrieve my walking boots this morning, I overheard someone arguing.”

“About what?”

“About something that should’ve been delivered and hadn’t been.”

“What was so peculiar about that? I’m sure the kitchen receives plenty of deliveries on a regular basis. Perhaps something went astray.”

“That’s the thing,” she said slowly. “It didn’t sound like the servants talking. In fact, I didn’t recognize one of the voices at all.”

“Possibly a new tradesman who has already proved unworthy of his commission?”

“Possibly.”

She studied him again. She didn’t feel right sharing her suspicions with him until she’d at least found out more. She was convinced that one of the men she’d heard was one of her father’s guests. But she had no idea why he would’ve chosen to meet with anyone in the stables. Her faint sense of unease might have more to do with the man standing beside her than any real issue within the house. She managed a little laugh.

“You’re right, that was probably just the new fishmonger riding off in a huff. I’m being overly dramatic about something silly, aren’t I?”

He didn’t smile back. “You’ve never struck me as silly, Miss Pelly. If you are worried about something, please feel free to confide in me.” The hard note was back in his voice, and his gaze was commanding.

She lifted her chin. “I’ll certainly consider it, my lord. Now, shall we move on?” To encourage him, she tucked her gloved hand into the crook of his arm and quickened her pace. As they approached the cliffs, the sound of the sea pounding against the rocks became a relentless, rolling roar. She had to raise her voice to be heard.

“There is a beach below us, but it is covered at high tide, and as you can see, fairly difficult at the best of times to access from here.”

She pointed at the steps cut into the sheer black shine of the cliff that went almost vertically downward.

“Is there no other access point?” he asked, leading her much closer to the edge than she liked.

“If you walk about a mile down toward the village, there is a small harbor. You can hike around to the beach from there when the tide is out.”

“And risk getting cut off if you don’t pay attention to the tides?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She peered out at the frothing, rolling sea. Where it thundered into the cove, it caught its own backwash, creating a treacherous, swirling vortex that could drag a person down, or trap them in the caves below the surface.

“Does it frighten you, Miss Pelly?”

“Not on a personal level.” She faced him and saw the droplets of salt glistening on his lips and eyelashes. “I’m simply in awe of such immense power and aware of how quickly a human life can be lost in such conditions.”

“Is it always this stormy?”

“No, sometimes it is as flat as a millpond and you can happily sit on the beach or explore the caves at the base of the cliff.”

He leaned out even farther, and she had to stop herself from grabbing him and pulling him back. “Can a ship anchor in the cove?”

“It’s too shallow, but if the tide is with you, you can row a boat in.” She swung around to face him. “You are full of questions this morning, my lord.”

“I must admit to having a curious nature, rather like you.” He nodded, his intent gaze measuring the distance between the rocks and the curved entrance to the small cove. “I would love to see the caves.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible until the storm dies down.”

Was that what the man in the stables had meant? That whatever hadn’t been delivered was held up because of the storm? But if it wasn’t fish, and despite her airy words to Lord Westbrook, she knew it wasn’t, what was supposed to be delivered? She had a horrible sensation that it had to be something illegal. It wouldn’t be the first time the cove had been used for smuggling purposes after all....

 

 

Ian watched a series of conflicting emotions pass over Miss Pelly’s remarkably open face, and waited to see if she’d blurt out anything helpful. Had she realized that the rendezvous she’d overheard in the stables might be about more than fish? He suspected she had, but she still didn’t trust him enough to confide the whole story to him. He found that galled him more than it should. With weather such as this, there was no way anything could be smuggled in from France or out of England. Perhaps a prearranged rendezvous had gone awry.

Her reluctance to reveal anything led him to suspect it involved someone she knew. But whom did she think was involved? It could be anyone of the staff or guests currently at Pelly Hall. If the missing goods were trade, he’d suspect the staff; if it involved espionage, then his benefactor might be correct and someone the Pellys knew was selling information to France. It could, of course, be both.

It was also obvious that Miss Pelly was becoming suspicious of his questions. Perhaps it was time to divert her attention into something more amoral.

“Shall we walk on?”

She glanced up at the leaden sky. “If you don’t mind a soaking.”

“I am entirely in your hands, Miss Pelly. I have no aversion to getting wet.”

“Why is it that every time you say something, I feel as if you mean something else?”

He blinked slowly at her. “Perhaps because I do?”

She stared into his eyes. “Because you are a rake and I shouldn’t trust you at all.”

“Exactly. Now which path should we take?”

She set off away from the edge of the cliff. They soon ran across another path leading through the barren fields. It was bordered with a combination of high hedges and tumbled stone walls. The wind was still brisk and the salt in the air stung against his lips. It was surprisingly invigorating.

“This road circles around the property and comes out at the rear of the house.”

Her voice was almost snatched away by the wind. He nodded and held out his hand and she hesitated.

“No one can see us from the house, can they?”

“I suppose not.”

“Then hold my hand.”

“It seems somewhat juvenile.”

He grabbed her anyway and tugged until she collided with his chest. “Because you want so much more now?”

“That’s not what I meant, I—”

He kissed her hard, sliding his tongue between her salty lips and possessing them. With a stifled moan she kissed him back, one hand coming around his neck, the other to rest on his coat. He dragged her even closer and drew her backward into the shelter of the wall, away from prying eyes and the bite of the rain.

Even as he kissed her, he pulled off his glove and had his hand under her skirts, searching out her warmth and her slick bud. She gasped at the coldness of his fingers but he didn’t stop. He’d make her warm soon enough, God, he’d make her burn like he did.

He thumbed her clit until he felt it throb and swell into his touch and then slid one finger deep inside her.

“Do you like this?” he murmured against her lips. “Do you want more? I want you.”

“How do you want me?”

He smiled into her mouth at her bravery. “In every way I can.” He added another finger and curled them around making her tighten even more around him. “If you can imagine it, I can give it to you. What do you desire?”

“I can’t tell you that!”

He bit her lip. “Why not?”

“It’s not
ladylike
.”

“Sex isn’t ladylike, Miss Pelly. It’s about need and skin and wanting someone so badly that you’ll do anything they want, whenever they want it.”

“Then tell me! You’re the rake!”

He added a third finger and her hips angled upward taking him deeper. He gathered her arse in his spare hand, and she ground herself against his moving fingers.

“I want to know what you want. How do you want to fuck, Miss Pelly?”

“Like the woman in the picture.”

“Which one?” He held his fingers deep and still until she looked up at him. Her blue eyes were glazed with passion, her lips swollen from his kisses and her cheeks flushed. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more desirable in his life.

She swallowed hard. “The one where she is tied to the bed and the men . . .”

He squeezed his fourth finger inside her so that she was practically fucking his whole hand. “The men are what?”

“Fucking her like that, and she can’t escape them.”

“You want me to tie you up?” He imagined it as her muscles contracted and flexed around his embedded fingers. “I could do that. I would enjoy it immensely.”

“Oh, God . . .” She started to climax and he thrust his fingers in and out of her quickly, his thumb working her clit as she trembled around him.

She buried her face against his coat and he let her rest there. One hand now on the back of her neck as she slowly recovered her breath. He set her slightly away from him, and put his glove back on.

“It’s a promise, then.”

She took his arm and allowed him to escort her back to the house.