Tutoring Miss Molly (12 page)

“Kenneth, my boy!”  The duke called down the hallway. “Escort Miss Molly to the dining room.”

Kenneth’s grin lit up his eyes. “It will be an honor.”

Molly smiled weakly and entwined her arm within his elbow.

Devlin woke up to the tart scent of a freshly cut apples. “Molly?”

He turned to find the scowling face of Audrey, stiffly sitting on a chair. She held a slice of apple midway to her mouth.

Throwing the fruit onto the plate, she snarled, “No, it’s not Molly who is next you, caring for you. It’s me!”

“I’m sorry my lady. I thought…never mind.” Devlin gingerly lifted himself against the headboard and unwrapped his bandaged arm. The wound was red and deep. Devlin sighed; thankfully the arrow did not hit Molly on its deadly path.

Who would want him dead? The list was endless. Many were jealous of him including a number of married ladies who openly pursued him. Maybe an enraged husband?

Devlin rubbed his index finger across his lips. Whoever it was, they would regret the day they put Molly’s life in danger.

“Devlin…Devlin?” Lady Audrey interrupted his thoughts, her tone indignant.

She stood with her hands on her hips, lips pouting.

“Did you hear what I said?” she demanded, daring him to lie.

“No.”

“You do not deserve me.” Twirling around, her skirts rustled when she stomped to the door. “When you come to your senses, it may be too late.”

Devlin scrunched his face, waiting for the door to slam. The noise vibrated along the walls, shaking his bed frame.

Dramatic and predictable, Lady Audrey did not disappoint.

* * * *

Molly spent most of the day with Kenneth by her side. Distracted with thoughts of Devlin, she wanted to run up to his room and interrupt the two lovers.

Even though Molly missed much of what Kenneth was saying, he remained attentive, showing her his prized hunting dogs and their new litter of beagle puppies. Handing her a particularly adorable tan and white puppy, Molly giggled when a little tongue licked her chin.

“I love the way you laugh,” Kenneth said, his voice soft while he petted a sleepy puppy in his arms.

“Thank you,” she responded, uncomfortable with the compliment.

Returning the puppy back to the mother, he shifted closer to Molly. He placed a hand on her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “In fact, I love—”

“I think I should check on your brother,” Molly stated in a high voice and edged away.

Irritation flashed through Kenneth’s eyes then replaced with a cool demeanor. “Of course.”

Smiling apologetically, Molly placed the puppy with the rest of the litter. Eager to escape the confines of the kennel and Kenneth’s penetrating stare.

Molly entered the manor and brushed past a laughing couple. She kept her eyes low, unable to stop her feelings of inferiority around aristocrats. Yet, when she was with Devlin, whose title and wealth was vastly superior to these people, she experienced acceptance. He made her feel like an equal, even though she was not. In her heart she would always be a commoner; it did not matter what fine gowns and jewels she wore.

Hastily, she climbed the elegant staircase to the top floor and paused at Devlin’s door. The strong wood stood imposing, daring her to knock against the duke’s wishes. She raised her hand, but paused midway.

Two ladies giggled down the hallway, and Molly dropped her hand as if she were caught doing something wrong. She looked conspicuously at them when they passed. The women frowned, yet did not accuse her of being somewhere she should not.

Biting her lip, she turned to flee to the safety of her room when Devlin’s door swished open. A man’s figure stood leaning against the door jam, his arms and legs crossed.

“Were you going to stand outside my door all day, or did you want something?” Devlin asked, a cheeky smile playing across his face. Dressed in black breeches and an open white shirt, the man was devastatingly handsome.

“I...I am sorry. I did not want to disturb you.” Her eyes darted around his broad shoulders to see if Audrey was inside. “I wanted to inquire about your wound.”

Devlin glanced down at his bandaged arm. “It only aches a little,” his voice took on another tone, “I have another ache that pains me more.” His approving eyes traveled down the length of her riding habit.

A heated current raced through her blood. Every inch of her wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she resisted.

A door slammed down the hallway, and Molly jolted. They both glanced in its direction. Had someone been watching them? Devlin pulled her into his chamber and she entered without hesitation. Her feet would take her anywhere he commanded, he had only to ask. The realization was elating and aggravating at the same time.

Why does this man have such a hold over me?

Devlin led her to a wide velvet couch beneath one of his windows. She sat primly and glanced around his spacious room. Furnished with two cherry-mahogany wardrobes, the family crest of a black wolf with two swords crossed through hung above the bed. Her gaze wandered to the messy bed he must have been lying in. The wrought iron bed was bigger than any she had ever seen.

“Do you like my chamber?”

“Yes, it is very …” She paused and glanced around.

“Masculine?” Devlin finished her sentence when he sat next to her, his legs touching hers.

“Yes,” she breathed, her hands shaking. His nearness affected her mind and body. He smelled of soap with a unique spicy scent. His bronze hair fell over his high brow, shaping gray eyes of confident knowledge. Was it any wonder women could not keep their hands off him? Devlin affected every feminine sense with a powerful force of sexual tension. Her complete body filled with wanting. Wanting this man to kiss her, touch her, make love to her.

A perceptive smile dimpled his cheek, and he picked up her hand, kissing each finger with tenderness. “Let us continue our lesson.”

“But your wound—”

“Will be fine.”

Drawing her closer, he leaned in for a kiss, then pulled away, teasing her. He lightly ran his finger along the edge of her jacket, skimming the heated skin above her breasts.

What was holding him back? Did she have bad breath? Surreptitiously, Molly tried to blow air from the side of her mouth to smell her breath.

“What are you doing?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

“Nothing.”

He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear and her insides melted.

“Are we…oh…going to talk about the archer?” she asked. Leaning closer to him, she wished her clothes were off so he had better access to her breasts.

“Not at the moment.” He kissed her lower, along the rim of her neckline. Dipping his finger beneath the material, he gently grazed her hardened nipple.

“But someone tried to kill you.”

“And I will deal with it later,” he muttered against her skin and cupped her breast.

He broke their embrace and shifted off the seat to sit in front of her on the floor. Lifting the skirt of her riding habit, he sucked in his breath and stared at her bare thighs.

“No petticoats and stockings. This pleases me,” he said in a husky voice rich with approval. Gliding his warm hand up her legs, he parted them to dip his finger between her moist folds. “I like that you are always ready for me.”

A sense of urgency drove her and she opened her legs wider. Noting how hungrily he watched her gesture.

“That’s better,” he said in a voice smoother than silk. His fingers worked the juices up and down her slit.

She collapsed against the chair in complete surrender. Her insides trembled with uncontrollable passion. Devoid of all shame, she was becoming increasingly obsessed as Devlin’s submissive sex slave. Every time he asked her to do something, a wicked tremor seared her skin.

“Undo your jacket. I want to see your beautiful breasts before I feast upon you.”

Without a thought, she unhooked the braids of her jacket and lifted her riding habit and muslin stays. Her round, heavy breasts spilled out.

Devlin nibbled upon her thighs then commanded, “Caress them, Molly. Feel how magnificent they are in your hands.”

Taking the pink-tipped breasts in her hands, she fondled them, entranced by his silent gaze. Feeling uninhibited, she pushed one of them up to her mouth, and with a flick of her tongue, she licked the taunt nipple.

“My God, woman, you are magnificent.” Shrugging out of his shirt as if it were on fire, he placed his hands on her inner thighs and dipped his head low. A warm, moist tongue traveled up her cleft in one long lick.

Quivering, Molly moaned. Her body thrummed to the swift movement of his soft and determined tongue. Her muscles became languid with every rapid breath she took. Tipping her hips toward him, a finger slid inside her, his mouth sucking on her swollen clit.

The sensation was too much to bear, hurtling her to a position of no return. She entwined her fingers in Devlin’s hair and screamed, her body bucking against his face.

When her body finally cooled, she pushed him back to lie on the floor. His shocked expression turned to excitement when she straddled his hips, rubbing her juices over his breeches. His straining shaft pressed against her with only linen material separating them from joining. Unashamedly, she wanted him inside her—to fulfill her desires to completion.

Shifting down his legs, she undid his breeches, releasing his engorged flesh from the confines. Taking his glorious erection in both hands, she rubbed it up and down, studying his face tightening with restraint. A heady sense of power enlivened her spirit. Cupping his two globes, she lowered her mouth to the tip of his manhood and flicked it with her tongue.

Devlin closed his eyes. “Good Lord.”

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked innocently, knowing his answer.

“No!”

Smiling, she lowered her head and took most of his length into her mouth, sucking and gliding her tongue around his shaft. She must remember to thank Yvette for her instructions next time they speak. Dipping her head, Molly enjoyed sucking and licking Devlin, his groans of pleasure aroused her to a different level of excitement.

“If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to,” Devlin gritted through his teeth, a sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

Molly climbed up his body, placing kisses over his flat torso and firm chest. Tasting his salty sweat on her lips, she straddled his hips again, this time with his rigid staff nestled between her thighs.

Devlin grabbed her hips, avoiding her moist sheath.

“Why do you resist me?” she asked.

“I do not know,” Devlin said breathlessly. “I do not want you to be like all the others.”

“I am not like the others. I never will be,” she added. “Please, I am ready to have you as my first.”

Reaching down between her thighs, she placed the tip of his member on the outside of her entrance. “I want you,” she whispered into his ear.

He looked torn within, his heavy breathing erratic. “And I need you.”

Grabbing both sides of her face, he pulled her down and claimed her mouth, mindlessly, savagely. His tongue swirled with hers, joining them together in a hunger that seared with flames of passion.