Miss Simpkins' School: Molly
Miss Simpkins’ School: Molly
Miss Simpkins’ School for Seduction, Book 5
Raven McAllan
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Miss Simpkins’ School: Molly
Copyright © 2014 Raven McAllan
ISBN: 978-1-77101-328-4
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: Deadra Krieger
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
Chapter One
“I can’t believe this tiny babe is full of sin. Just look at that angelic face.” Molly Simpkins gazed at the sleeping child in her arms, and then at the man beside her. As ever, one look at him and her quim went into spasms—not that the fact her thighs were damp showed on her face. She had long learned to keep her emotions hidden when she was around Charles. “Why do we have to think that to have her christened?”
Charles smiled as he expertly jiggled the wide-awake babe he held. “I don’t think it’s quite like that, but I’ll wager these two will lead Ash and Adriana a merry dance when they get older. It’s probably why we’re among the godparents. You know, to see the signs and preempt the mischief.”
Molly giggled. “Well, I can only hope neither of them give their parents as much trouble as we got up to.”
As Charles arched one very elegant eyebrow, Molly’s skin tingled. Life wasn’t fair. She sighed, and was immediately annoyed at how defeated she sounded. It was what you made it, and she did her best.
“We? I assure you
I
was the model of propriety.” Charles drawled the words, but spoiled the effect by winking. “Or so I hoped. These babes will have a better upbringing than Ash and I. He and Adriana will make sure of that.” The baby he held went red in the face, squawked, and then let out a yell. Charles wrinkled his nose. “Hmm, I think it’s time I got rid of this child and circulated. He needs his papa.”
“Why his papa? Mamas are so much better at all things.” Ash had walked up behind them. He took his son from Charles, and sniffed. “Definitely mama, or the nurse.”
“Mama. We told Martha she could spend the day at the staff’s party. I’m perfectly able to clean my son.” Adriana took the screaming baby, and rocked him as she crooned silly nothings to try and calm him. “Ash, bring Mary, for if Harry needs changing he will want feeding, and whatever he does, Mary soon follows. Charles, get Molly a drink and some food. She’s been stuck in this corner of the garden for too long. No.” She stopped Molly before Molly opened her mouth. “You are here as Godmama and friend, and as wanted and welcome as any one else. In fact more wanted and welcome than some. Stop hiding.” Adriana turned and marched off.
“Well, the countess has issued her decree. Shall we?” Charles held out his arm, and Molly had no option but to take it.
“You don’t have to do this you know,” she muttered as Charles steered a path through the chattering guests. The gardens at Addersley were at their best. The gardeners had excelled themselves, and the manicured lawns and elegant rose bushes a perfect foil for the house. “I can just...”
“Come with me, smile and ignore the tabbies. They need gossip and if seeing us here together provides it, perhaps it will save some other poor soul from the wrath of their tongues.” Charles patted her hand. That gentle touch made her nipples tighten. It was becoming harder and harder to cover her reaction to him.
Molly smiled and gave in. It might be bittersweet, but to have him close, even in such an innocent way, was oh so wanted.
“How’s the school going?” Charles asked as they left the bulk of the guests behind them and walked toward the house. “I know Miranda and Felix are deliriously happy, but generally?”
“So far so good,” Molly said cautiously. “I think the service I provide is both needed and welcome. Of course without Ash, Adriana, and their friends, nothing would have worked. However, I know from what people have told me that my school and its unique lessons are talked about the in most gratifying way. At least I haven’t had a pupil tell me what they have learned hasn’t been of any help.”
“Good.” Charles sounded distracted, and Molly wondered why. She decided not to ask. If he wanted to share his worries it wouldn’t be likely he would choose her as his confidant. Even though she ached for Charles and wished that things could be different, Molly knew her place. Sadly, that wasn’t with Charles.
They walked on in silence until they entered the house by way of the open doors that led into the family dining room. Ash had deliberately created pathways for his guests to follow, which kept them in the public rooms only. He stated that by doing so, his real guests like Charles and Molly wouldn’t be bothered by what Ash termed as the “free food and good gossip followers.” He had a point.
Charles picked up two glasses and a bottle of champagne and handed them to Molly. “Here, can you carry this? I’ll get some food and we’ll find somewhere quiet. I need to talk to you. This might be for family only, but it’s still a bit too obvious for my liking.”
He didn’t sound very happy about it. Molly slowly nodded in total agreement. There wasn’t much else she could do. Worry lines creased Charles’ forehead. Obviously, whatever he wanted to talk about was not only important, but perhaps disturbing. Regardless, she would never deny herself the chance to spend time with Charles.
I am a glutton for punishment. But oh, just to be near him, smell his scent, and perhaps touch his skin, is such sweet torture. If it is all I can have, then it will be a memory to savor.
She didn’t dare think of the one time she had enjoyed all of that and more. It was too painful. Her back stung as if to remind her of those times.
“Thank you. Shall we?”
Molly jumped and the champagne frothed around the mouth of the bottle. She’d been so deep in thought, she hadn’t realized Charles had filled a platter and rejoined her. He dipped his head and deliberately licked the rim of the bottle, scooping the bubbles into his mouth. The sight of his tongue as it caressed the glass made her tingle. With a wicked grin, he moved suddenly and placed his lips over hers. Molly opened her mouth to comment and cool sparkly liquid passed from him to her. She spluttered and swallowed the fruity wine. It was all too personal and arousing to cope with. The hairs on her arms stood to attention and her clit tightened to the point where pleasure and pain were indistinguishable.
“Whaa...” She looked at Charles in bewilderment. “What was that in aid of?”
“My campaign. Or a whim if you prefer. So...” He gestured toward the door.
“Oh, ah, yes. I’m sorry I was wool-gathering”
And the rest.
“Where shall we go?”
“Follow me.” Charles smiled and his deep blue eyes glittered with something she couldn’t fathom. “I know just the place where we won’t be disturbed.”
~~~
“A folly? I didn’t even know there was one.” Molly put her platter on a low bench and turned full circle to look around the tiny building. The windows were low and wide, and bewitching mythical creatures decorated the wall panels. “It’s so beautiful. Where are we though?”
Charles had harnessed a bright-eyed bay horse to a gig and driven them along a tiny track through the woods and up a hill, until they’d reached this honey stone building shaped like an octagon. The gorse-studded land dropped away in front of them to become checkered fields and tiny copses. Over to the right, where the sun hung low in the sky, a herd of cows walked across the field toward their milking shed. It was peaceful—tranquil even. So why did Molly’s heart pound like a drum beaten at twice its normal rate?
Her body felt most peculiar, and nothing like she’d ever experienced before. Her skin stung, and was surely too small for her frame. Her nipples were so hard the material of her dress would no doubt soon be holed by their insistence to push out and be seen. As for her cunt? Molly daren’t think about that. Her legs were more than damp, and had she hair over her quim, no doubt it would be covered in her essence. She either had to get over these reactions, or make sure never to be alone near Charles again. It was easier to leave a space between them in the presence of others. Like this, though, he became a lodestone to which she was drawn ever closer.
Be honest, even the English Channel wouldn’t be a wide enough space to distract me.
“Addersley is over there, behind Home Farm.” Charles pointed toward a group of buildings set snug behind a copse of trees, which bent away from the direction of the wind. “This is on Countisberry land. My land. My house is on the other side of the hill. Look.” He took her arm and led her out of the building.
The soft afternoon breeze whisked stands of her hair out of the complicated arrangement she’d secured it in and tickled her cheeks. Charles chuckled and she felt his hand at her head. The next thing she experienced was her hair tumbling down her back and fanning out in an arc as the wind caught it.
“That’s better. I hate the things you do to such lovely hair. It deserves to be seen.” He pocketed her hairpins with a satisfied smile on his face.
“Very professional,” Molly said as she tried to find the hairpin she knew was in her own pocket. “It would certainly instill confidence in me and my credentials if future students saw me this way.”
“It would,” Charles said. “You look like someone who is ready to be loved. Eager and alight with the power only a beautiful and responsive woman possesses. Ready for anything her lover wishes to share. No. Don’t pin it up, please.”
She stilled her hands.
“Are you ready?”
Molly blinked. Had she heard him aright? “Pardon?”
Charles cupped her face between his large hands. Slight callouses teased her skin, and reminded her he was no longer a young buck, but a man who saw no shame in working with his men. “I said”—he kissed her lips and nipped the soft flesh just to the pleasure side of pain—”Are,”
nip
“you,”
kiss
“ready?” His tongue thrust between her lips to mesh and tangle with her own.
Molly grabbed onto his shoulders to stop herself falling. Dreams weren’t usually so graphic were they?
Chapter Two
Charles allowed himself sink into sensation. It was madness to permit his heart and gonads to rule over his mind and common sense, but for once he was going with his emotions. Spending the better part of the day next to Molly, with her scent teasing his nostrils, and her body reminding him of all the things denied to him, had been painful. Trying to disguise a rock-hard cock under formal wear wasn’t easy. He wondered how on earth his friend Felix had managed to do it so well around Miranda, his future wife. It was a disturbing thought. Miranda was Charles’ daughter, and Felix—heaven help him—his future son-in-law
. I have to commend him for his iron will. I’m sure my own will is not so strong.
A sharp pain on his shin made him pull away from Molly. His lips still tingled with the remembrance of how she tasted. The pain in his leg radiated out and upward. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and covered his cock. Who knew where the next target might be?
“What was that for?” he asked, as he did his best not to limp across the grass and back to the folly.
“Taking advantage,” Molly said as she followed him inside and handed him a flute of champagne. Her eyes filled with tears and
his
mind filled with remorse.
“Oh lud, Molly.” He took the glass from her and swallowed the wine. He shuddered to think what the winemaker would think if he saw him. Fine champagne should never be abused in that manner. “Was it so bad? I’m so sorry. I won’t do anything like it again. Blame the wine, the weather, hell, the lack of a woman in my life. No, not that. I want no other woman. Argh, ignore that, although it is true. Just please don’t cry.” He fished a large and immaculate linen square out of his pocket, and handed it over. “I’m sorry I upset and hurt you. Ow, ooft.”
She punched him again, this time square in the stomach. His breath left him in a whoosh and he wheezed like a man addicted to cigarillos. The champagne lapped the top of the flute and tiny droplets hit his hand.
Dammit, not only am I sore but I’m reduced to not wasting fine wine by licking my hand. I wish it were her body I was licking it from.
