Wicked Proposition (8 page)

Catherine bit down hard on her lip to keep from
crying out in outrage. Her green eyes filled with tears. Gabriel
did not notice she was lying stiff and unyielding under his hands
now. She was shaking, her head now turned away on the pillow. Her
eyes were squeezed shut tightly.

He eased over her and nudged her thighs apart
with his knees. She felt his long, thick shaft pressing into her
then. She braced herself for the excruciating pain she was told to
expect.

Gabriel was whispering to her, his hands and
mouth closing off her whimpers of distress. He suddenly pushed
inside her. They were both unprepared to feel the barrier
there.

Both of their eyes widened as they felt her
maidenhead ripping. He slid fully inside, tensed, and stared down
at her in shock. Catherine cried out loudly in pain and struggled
within his arms, pushing at his wide shoulders.

“Stop, no please! You are hurting me! I can’t do
this! Please stop!” she sobbed brokenly as she tried in vain to
shove him off her. He was like dead weight, pinning her under
him.

Catherine felt like she was being impaled. A
burning ache grew unbearable where he was now deeply lodged. She
felt like she was being ripped in half, and continued to struggle
in his arms. Gabriel’s dark eyes filled with regret. He pulled out
only slightly and regarded her in concern.

“Easy, my sweet, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he
whispered. “I cannot stop now, Catherine. It is too late.”

He held her flailing arms above her head and
gently began to move, his rigid shaft easing inside slowly once
more. Her eyes were tightly closed and she refused to look at him.
A lone tear slid down her cheek as he continued moving inside her,
murmuring soothingly to her as he stretched her fully. It was done.
Catherine felt only mild discomfort, not the burning pain she felt
initially. She recalled the madam’s words of instruction.

Another tear slid down her cheek. Catherine was
failing at pleasing him, and no longer cared. She lay rigid and
unmoving under him. Never could she have imagined how degrading it
would feel to have allowed this.

Gabriel covered her mouth with his, kissing her
ardently. His body rose and fell over hers tenderly. His mouth and
hands seemed everywhere now, making her tremble and feel warm all
over. He whispered to her and held her soothingly.

The pain was gone. Catherine gasped as the
friction of him moving back and forth began to feel good. She tried
to concentrate on all Clarice had taught her. Gabriel’s eyes filled
with urgent need. His hand slid under her stocking-clad knee. He
drew it up along his hip as he slid more fully within her now. Eyes
closed as he surged deeply within her. Low, soft growls slid past
his lips.

Catherine began to move under him then, arching
to meet the force of his deep thrusts. Her last conscious thought
was that none of Clarice’s instructions seemed to apply
anymore.

Catherine dug her nails into his back now, soft
gasps escaping her lips as he moved faster. Her eyes were
half-closed in ecstasy. Her dark head rolled on the pillows as
searing waves of pleasure were felt at each deliberate stroke.

Gabriel bore her into the mattress, his lean
hips moving in a slow, circular motion. He buried his face in her
neck and inhaled her exotic fragrance. He kissed her, his hands
sliding up and down her slender body, molding her to him urgently.
Catherine held him tightly. She bit down on his shoulder to stem
the flow of noises that flew to her lips unconsciously.

Gabriel pressed her down. He moved fiercely
within her, eager to end his own torment. She buried her face in
his neck. Groaning aloud, he took his release, stiffening atop her.
She felt the warmth spread within her as his seed erupted.

Gabriel lay at her side. His breathing slowed
after a time. He lifted his head and stared down at her.
Satisfaction was obvious in his handsome face, but his eyes were
filled with remorse.

Gabriel pulled her to his chest and they lay
against the pillows. He was quiet for several minutes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin,
Catherine?” he asked finally, his dark eyes meeting hers in the
candle light. “You could have gotten far more than I paid for you
if Clarice had known.”

“It was not hers to sell,” Catherine replied
softly with a hollow catch in her voice. She pulled away and sat
up, “but mine, to give freely.”

“I am honored,” he said a bit sarcastically.
“Had I known I would have refused,” he informed her tersely,
sitting up as well.

“What difference should it make?” she said
softly as she turned away to remove the stockings, tears filling
her eyes. “Someone had to do it. It might as well have been you
than Lord Dartmouth. Something tells me that would have been far
from pleasant.”

Gabriel flung back the sheet. He rose and went
to the washstand in the corner and retrieved a cloth, washing
himself off.

“Pretend if you will, but we both know what
happened could not have been easy for you,” he said calmly as he
returned to her side.

He pushed her shoulder flat to force her onto
her back. He yanked the sheet from her under protests, and washed
the blood and semen away from her slender thighs.

Gabriel tossed the rag aside and slid into the
bed. He pulled her into his arms once more, holding her tightly
against his chest.

“Why don’t you tell me how you came to be
working for Clarice, my dear?” He asked with a frown as he picked
up her smooth hand. “These hands do not lie. Your speech is too
refined. There is also the matter of your gift to me. Do not lie.
The truth, if you please. I detest liars.”

Catherine avoided his eyes. She lay stiffly
against his hard chest, uncomfortable with this sudden intimacy
between them.

Catherine longed to scream at him, to tell him
it was his fault she was forced to sell her body. She knew she
could not, deciding the truth was best.

“You are very observant. My parents died leaving
me penniless. I came to England to seek out my guardian. He refused
to help me. Lester found me. The fact I do not belong here is not
lost upon me.”

“This guardian you mentioned,” Gabriel prodded.
“Who is he? I could approach the blackguard on your behalf.”

You are the blackguard
, she thought.
Instead she shrugged, meeting his dark eyes with nonchalance. “The
less you know of me the better, I think. My guardian would not
care. He is a loathsome pig of a man who cares about nothing but
himself.”

Gabriel grinned at that, dimpling under her
assessment of the man. “You like him that much, I see?”

“I completely despise the man, and hope one day
he gets exactly what he deserves.”

Gabriel looked at her in amusement. “He did not
put you here, Catherine. You came here willingly.”

Catherine gave him a venomous stare.

Gabriel looked uncomfortable then. “I am not
judging you. I was only questioning why you felt this was your only
option. Surely you could have married to avoid this?”

“I had no such offers. I did not choose this for
myself, my lord,” she admitted honestly, avoiding his eyes.

He looked like he wanted to say something more,
but obviously realized the sad truth of her words.

“Enough of me, my lord,” she said with false
cheerfulness. “You did not come here to talk about my sad
stories.”

Catherine felt his maleness poking against her
belly then and looked up at him in surprise. Clarice told her a man
would be done after one time. It was obvious Gabriel was not like
other men.

Gabriel rolled her onto her back and sought her
lips in a slow, passionate kiss that left her breathless. He was
unhurried now, using every sensual pleasure he knew to make her
tremble under his knowing hands. He explored her at his leisure,
touching and tasting every inch of her skin until he could bear it
no more. Catherine no longer needed the words of instruction
drilled into her by Clarice. She clung to him, her nails digging
into his back.

Gabriel stopped only to put on one of the French
letters on the bedside table, reminding her she had completely
forgotten that detail. She showed her lack of expertise by not
insisting he wear the condoms. Gabriel moved above her once more.
His dark eyes met hers and held them as he entered her slowly.
Catherine could not look away as he moved with such exquisite
slowness within her. She matched his movements.

Catherine gave herself up to his passions now,
longing to feel the intense sensations once more. Catherine held
him tightly as he moved, her heels digging shamelessly into his
buttocks. She wept into his neck, her nails digging fiercely into
his back. Gabriel held her hands in his, mindful of her nails this
time. He moved furiously within her, boring her into the mattress
with bruising intensity.

Gabriel cut off her cries with his lips, his
hands sliding into her hair. She released a tormented sob as their
bodies moved together in unison. The pleasure was intense. He
stiffened above her soon, his eyes half-closed, a ragged groan
escaping him. He held her, his body shaking. When he finished, he
held her against his sweaty chest, stroking her hair until her
eyelids fluttered closed.

Catherine opened her eyes drowsily and leaned
back against Gabriel’s warm chest. Her eyes flew wide to recall
where she was, and who she was with. It was a few hours before
dawn.

Shame coursed through her. She despised herself
and wished to avoid facing what she had done.

Lilly had not exaggerated her husband’s
considerable skills in bed. He made her enjoy it. It sickened her
to know she had found pleasure during the encounter. Catherine wept
silently as he slept at her side. She felt tormented as though she
had committed some horrific sin. She would be punished for this one
day.

Catherine had no instructions from Clarice on
how to deal with these desolate feelings of remorse and
self-loathing. She cried until she had nothing left inside but
stark, numb acceptance.

Catherine sighed as she noted the faint light in
the sky. She closed her eyes and finally found sleep. Contentment
was felt as his strong arm curled around her possessively. Willing
to pretend she belonged here with him, she accepted his
embrace.

###

Clarice plugged the peephole at the end of the
evening, smiling in satisfaction. The Countess would be pleased.
Her sister had caught on very quickly. Iverleigh had been pleased,
that much was certain.

Lord Dartmouth had been furious to be denied her
new girl. He had stormed from the house in a rage. The monies
Clarice made off the blue room voyeurs were enough to satisfy her
for losing Dartmouth’s fee for the evening.

The closet had never been empty this night, all
eager to watch Iverleigh and her new girl. Clarice was humming as
she left the closet in the hall and returned to her office, eager
to count the evening’s profits.

###

Nicholas stood naked as he looked out the window
of the rose room to the dark street below. His three companions
took up the bed. He couldn’t sleep anyway. The cheroot glowed as he
inhaled and blew smoke in frustration. The images of the green-eyed
beauty down the hall disturbed him. He refused to engage the
peepholes. His companions assured him the encounter had been
stimulating.

Nicholas grit his teeth to hear them laughing
when they told him Clarice had been duped. The new girl had been a
virgin. Imaging the Clarice’s fury to know she had been cheated an
exorbitant fee made them chortle in mirth. He didn’t want to
examine the dismay he felt to learn the girl had been an innocent.
His first instincts had been correct in gouging her fear in the
salon.

Nicholas doubted this could have pleased
Gabriel, knowing his friend. He anticipated he would be in a foul
mood come morning.
She didn’t belong here,
Nicholas thought
broodingly. He resisted the urge to go drag her from the blue room.
The desire to get her out of this place took hold.

Thinking of Nan made him grimace. He might have
tried to do more for her. Still, those green eyes haunted him. It
was a long time before he wedged in between his companions and
found his rest.

When Catherine awoke that morning the space
beside her was empty. Gabriel was gone. She sat up in the bed, her
hair mussed beyond repair. Mindful that the sun was now high in the
sky, she scooted out of the bed. Catherine’s stomach recoiled from
the champagne she had drunk. Her head hurt and her mouth tasted
sour.

Catherine looked about the notorious blue Room.
She felt the onset of mortification. Shame made her grit her teeth,
but she reasoned she would never see these people again. She
dragged herself from the bed with the sheet about her, her body
sore and stiff from Gabriel’s vigorous lovemaking.

Gabriel had kissed her awake in the wee hours of
the morning, despite her sleepy protestations. His hands and mouth
had driven her wild. He took his time, lingering in the bed with
her, bringing them both to feverish ecstasy. Every part of her body
ached deliciously in constant reminder. The smell of him was
ingrained upon her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut in anguish,
trying to block out the carnal images of him, but they
persisted.

Catherine washed her burning face and her mouth
in the basin. She bit her lips to quell the tumultuous tears she
felt building inside, but it was done. She sold herself for money.
Reminding herself that her noble intentions to restore Jaime’s
birthright meant more than her remorse did not improve her
mood.

Jaime’s future and Cullen’s were worth more than
her regret. What she received for her body was far more than just
the few shillings these women at this brothel received. Who was she
fooling, she thought? She was no better than the women who worked
here, and she knew it.