Mastering a Sinner (18 page)

“You look beautiful, Mr. Maclean, legs spread for me, cock hard. I could do anything I want and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

“I . . . wouldn’t stop you anyway.”

“How is your headache?”

He smiled at her. “I’d completely forgotten I had one.”

“That’s good.” She looped a thinner silk rope around the one that bound his hips to the bed and brought it down between his legs crossing it under his cock and balls and then under his arse and bringing it back around to the front. “Be still.”

He groaned for the first time when she brought the ends of the rope up and tied them around the back of his neck. His cock and balls were pushed upward now and out. Wetness gleamed on the tip of his crown as the subtle pull of the rope took hold.

“Can you see yourself, Mr. Maclean? On display for me or anyone else I choose to allow to see you this way?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

She tugged gently on the finer rope making his cock kick up. “I like it too. One day, when we have more time, I’ll tie you up like this and leave you all day, so that I can come back and see that you remain hard for me at all times.”

A gush of pre-cum flooded down over his shaft, and she gathered some of it on her fingers and licked it into her mouth, which made him yearn helplessly toward her.

“I wonder if the staff would touch you too? Finger your nipples, play with your cock, avail themselves of your mouth?” She traced his lips with her damp fingers. “Because you wouldn’t be able to stop them, would you?”

He shook his head as he imagined being played with, sucking cock, and being unable to do anything about it. He tried to move his hips, but there was no give in the ropes at all. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He was completely at her mercy.

 

Diana stroked Alistair’s hair out of his eyes, her fingers careful. “I would expect you to give everything you were asked for apart from your come.” She licked her lips at the picture he made. His hard muscled body pinned to the bed, his hands helpless against his own thighs. His cock . . . God, his cock on display for her, his pre-cum soaking into the silken rope and darkening the color from blue to navy.

It would be an exhilarating sight to come home to every night. She couldn’t ever imagine not thinking that, or dreaming up new ways to make him vulnerable to her, to make him see that she was the only woman who would ever master him. But there was still a long way to go before he was truly able to trust her completely.

She crawled up onto the bed and knelt up between his wide-open knees so he could see her without lifting his head. Pulling her nightgown over her head, she cupped her breasts, watched his eyes widen and fasten on the sight of her hard nipples. She pinched them and rolled them between her finger and thumb. His tongue came out to lick his lips as if he was fantasizing that he was the one sucking her. Holding his gaze, she let her fingers drop lower to her sex. She gasped as she touched her swollen bud and then moved lower, finding her own juices and using them to penetrate her cunt.

“I know you want to do this, Mr. Maclean, but you can’t. You are just going to have to watch me.”

His whole body tightened as if he was going to try and throw off his bounds and then he seemed to remember himself and settle back, his breathing harsh, and his hands still on his thighs.

To reward him, she leaned forward and brought her soaking wet fingers to his mouth. She enjoyed his groan as she smeared her juices on his lips and then allowed him to suck them clean. His cock rested against her stomach, moving against her as he sucked. But he couldn’t thrust at all. She stayed where she was, her knees hugging his arms and resumed finger fucking herself.

“This is a lesson in self-control, Mr. Maclean. The more you fight the ropes, the tighter they will become. I want you to relax. I want you quiet and watching me. All I expect to be hard is your cock.”

“I can’t—”

His stomach muscles flexed as she rubbed her wet fingers over his warm skin. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lie back and enjoy watching me and do not expect anything for yourself.”

“That is . . . hard for me to do.”

She smiled as she circled a finger around her clit and shuddered. “I’ve already told you. The only thing I want hard about you is your cock. Give in to the ropes, Mr. Maclean. Accept that you are bound and at my mercy, and that I can do anything I want with you. Accept the restraints and enjoy them.”

She eased back until the very tip of his cock was wedged against her clit and held still. “My will, my choice.”

He held her gaze as his breathing slowed and he sank back down into the bed, the rope marks on his wrists and ankles lessening.

“Very good, Mr. Maclean.” She undulated her hips, pressing the crown of his cock hard against her needy clit and allowed herself to come, knowing he’d feel the throb of it through her clit but not as much as he desired.

She experimented a little more, gripping his cock and guiding it around her clit and pussy lips in a slow finger of eight but not allowing him inside. He remained quietly on the bed, only the occasional tremor running through his strong frame as she played with him.

God, she wanted that big cock inside her, but how to ensure he stayed still? She glanced over at her dressing table and moved off the bed.

“Don’t move.”

Not that he could, but she wanted him to remain in the same calm state. His gaze widened as she returned to him holding her long-handled hairbrush and a thin red ribbon. She placed the bristles of the brush against his balls, leaving the handle parallel to his cock. Using the red ribbon, she bound his shaft to the wooden handle.

He looked . . . Diana sat back and admired the view before rubbing her finger over his shaft and spreading his pre-cum wide. He remained quiet under her hands, which made her want to smile. This was the first time she’d felt he was truly hers; his fighting spirit aligned with pleasing her rather than thwarting her every suggestion. Perhaps he needed to be hit on the head more often . . .

“My lady?”

His voice was hoarse with need, the Scottish burr much in evidence.

“Yes, Mr. Maclean?”

“You look very beautiful tonight.”

“Owning you?”

“Aye.”

“Then lie very still because I haven’t finished yet.”

She straddled his hips and carefully positioned herself over his ribbon-clad cock and slowly let him inside her, the smooth wood of the brush handle widening her along with the already considerable girth of his cock.

They both groaned and he sucked in his stomach muscles as she took him deep, imagining the way the bristles of the brush were pressing against his already-primed-to-come balls.

“Ah, God . . .” he breathed. “That’s . . .”

“Tell me.” She held still, getting used to the throb of his cock and the hardness of the rigid wood inside her.

“I . . . can’t move my cock. I can’t change the angle even if I could move my hips. If I tried the bristles would press into my balls like a thousand stinging needles.”

“So what do you think you should do, Mr. Maclean?”

He opened his eyes wide and looked at her. “Lie still and let you fuck me?”

She squeezed her internal muscles hard. “Well done.” And then she began to move carefully up and down his trapped and bound shaft until she climaxed and held still, her arms braced on his shoulders as the waves of pleasure thundered through her.

 

He moaned when she moved off him, his cock suddenly cold and exposed after the burning heat of her clenching cunt. She undid the rope across his hips and then the one across his chest, followed by the one around his ankles.

“Kneel up, Mr. Maclean.”

It was hard for him to manage without the use of his hands, which were still bound to his thighs. It was also difficult to bend his knees after them being so wide apart, but he managed it eventually. She retied his ankles, which were now behind him, to the rope that wound around his arse and trapped his hands on his thighs.

“Look at me.”

He raised his head and felt the knot of the rope around his neck tighten and the corresponding pull on his balls where the hairbrush bristles still prickled against his skin.

She touched him. Her hands sliding over his heated skin, shaping his muscles, the curve of his arse and thigh, the flat planes of his stomach. His cock throbbed along with his heartbeat as he remembered to breathe slowly and to simply enjoy the moment of her stroking him as if he were a prized stallion. He felt safe....

The scent of her desire floated up to him from his cock, mixed with his own need, making him even harder. He thought he groaned in protest when she stopped touching him.

His gaze dropped to his cock, where she was carefully untying the red ribbon. He couldn’t help thrusting a little into her hand as his shaft was released from the rigid prison of the wood and the scratching torture of the bristles.

“What would you like me to do with this brush, Mr. Maclean? Fuck you or spank you?”

He couldn’t speak, his mouth dry with anticipation.

“Or perhaps, this?”

He bit back a growl as she stroked the brush down the rigid length of his cock and then back up and over the straining crown. She did it again and his hips bucked forward, fucking the brush and her moving fingers. And then he forgot how to breathe as she kept going until he was incapable of keeping still or being silent.

Pleasure and plain crowded his senses until he could no longer watch, just experience the need to come, to not come, to soak her hand in his seed, but not disappoint her . . .

“Come for me, Mr. Maclean.”

He obeyed without conscious thought, his whole body letting go and just becoming a rutting animal with no purpose other than releasing his come. She reached for him and brought his head down onto her shoulder, offering him support and something to hold on to, to withstand the onslaught.

Even while he struggled to breathe, she was busy untying him until there was nothing holding him in place except her body, her arms lowering him to the bed and surrounding him. He started to shake and she enfolded him in her embrace, drawing his head to her breasts until a wave of exhaustion swept over him and he shuddered through a yawn.

Her fingers tangled in his hair.

“You must remind me not to force your weight onto your injured leg.”

“I didn’t feel a thing.”

“You will tomorrow. I could see the muscles starting to knot and tighten.”

“Is that why you stopped?”

“Please don’t stiffen up like that, Mr. Maclean. I don’t want to hurt you when you are with me. I have a duty to take care of you.” Her voice was soft in the darkness. “I achieved exactly what I wanted. Did you?”

He opened his mouth to argue and then closed it again. “I didn’t fight against my restraints. I’ve always enjoyed doing that. It felt . . . strange to lie quietly. The pleasure I gained from doing as you asked me was different but equally satisfying in its own way.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She yawned. “Now we should sleep.”

“You still wish me to stay?”

She kissed the top of his head. “Yes.”

He rolled onto his back and she lay half across him, one knee perilously close to his aching cock. His headache appeared to have gone, but he suspected it would return after the pleasure of his release dimmed. She was the first woman he’d ever chosen to stay and share a bed with since his wife had died. It felt surprisingly right.

“Do you prefer to be restrained, Mr. Maclean?”

Her sleepy question made him open his eyes again. “If I am being honest, yes.” He hesitated, the darkness encouraging him to tell her the truth. “I used to dream about being naked and tied up, and being torn between being ashamed that my cock was hard and wet and that everyone could see me like that and . . . wanting them to see me, to touch and fondle me against my will, to make me even harder and wetter.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Mr. Maclean.” She kissed him. “I like to see you tied up and hard as well.”

“If you are there, it would make it even better.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’d be doing it for you as well as myself.”

She chuckled. “And you mention this when we are both exhausted.”

“I’m sorry my lady, perhaps I shouldn’t have—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “You must always tell me what you desire. How else can I give it to you? Now go to sleep.”

He kissed her fingers and obeyed. Tomorrow would bring the earl closer and the hunt for evidence back to the fore, but for tonight, he would do as his lady told him, and simply sleep sheltered in her arms.

18

“Y
es, my lady. I did see Mr. Theale yesterday. Did you wish to speak to him?” Maddon asked.

“No, I just wondered if he had returned from his travels.” Diana forced herself to smile at the butler. “I’m sure he’ll be in to see me fairly soon.”

Maddon bowed and left leaving Diana contemplating the door. Would Nico come and find her? If he didn’t, was that an indication of his guilt?

There was a tap on the door, and her questions were answered with a speed that normally never happened as Nico came in, his expression grave, one hand already reaching for his notebook in his pocket.

“Nico.”

He took a seat. “Diana. How are you?”

“As well as might be expected when my rat of a stepson steals the evidence I need to find my father.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me. Only four of us knew what that book contained.”

“Four?” He frowned. “Who else did you tell?”

“Mr. Maclean.”

“Oh dear. Was that wise?”

She glared at him. “Are you suggesting Mr. Maclean stole the page from the book and then came to tell me about it?”

Nico shrugged. “That’s what I would’ve done.”

“Even if that was what he
intended
to do, it was too late, wasn’t it? Why did you give the information to Charlotte if you didn’t want me to have it after all?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then you do admit to stealing it back!”

“I thought that knowing the Westbrook family had been involved in paying for your schooling would be enough for you to drop the matter and move on with your life.”

“What gave you the right to make such a decision for me?”

“Because I don’t want you getting hurt!” He glared right back at her. “There is no point in forcing the Westbrook family to recognize you. You’ve already told me you don’t want money, or anything tangible from them, so why push the issue? You think you know the truth. Why not be satisfied with that?”

Diana studied him for a long moment. “What are you keeping from me?”

“A suspicion. A sense that there is more to this than meets the eye.”

“Do you have evidence to support this feeling?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do this week. Find concrete proof.”

“About what?”

He sighed. “I’m not telling you. It’s so far-fetched that even I can’t believe I’m thinking it.”

“Nico . . . you have to tell me. This is unfair.”

He let out a long breath. “It’s just this. Perhaps it wasn’t the earl who had a child but his wife.”

“Yes. Maybe she was the one trying to conceal her past.”

Diana found herself moving. “Then perhaps I should simply go and ask her—”

As she attempted to brush past him, Nico shot to his feet and grabbed her elbow.

“Let go of me.”

“Listen.”
He retained his grip. “Don’t rush into this.
Think
.”

She took a deep breath. “About what?”

“Whether you wish to bring this matter up with the earl if it actually concerns his wife. He loves her. He will do anything, destroy
anyone
who threatens her.”

She raised her gaze to his dark brown eyes. “Have you found any evidence to support this ridiculous theory of yours?”

“Not yet.”

“Then until you do, I intend to follow through with my plan to ask the earl whether he is my father.”

He sighed. “Di—”

“I’ve waited too long and I’m too close to finding out the truth to be dissuaded now. If the earl denies everything, perhaps his countess will speak up instead. I’m sorry, Nico.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I think you will be. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He let go of her, and she resumed her seat behind the desk and settled her skirts. “We all have to do what’s best for ourselves at some point, don’t we?”

He put his notebook back in his pocket. “If I find out anything else before the earl arrives, will you at least hear what I have to say?”

“Of course I will.”

“Thank you.” He hurried toward the door with unusual speed. “Good-bye, Diana. Be well.”

It only occurred to her that he hadn’t directly answered her question after he’d left. Who might have paid him to extract it in the first place? Diana rubbed at her temples and considered everything Nico had said to her. It was possible he was just trying to distract her from speaking to the earl. Was it likely that the countess had borne a child out of wedlock? She hadn’t been that young when she’d met and married the earl....

Diana groaned and decided to focus on straightening out Malinda Keyes’s appointments for the next week. At least such a complicated tangle would keep her mind beautifully occupied.

 

“There’s been no sign of Harry, I take it, Mr. Fisher?” Alistair asked, as he placed the first batch of opened mail on his employer’s desk.

“Not that I know of.” Adam rubbed a hand over his tired face. “I’m assuming you haven’t seen him either.” He looked as though he hadn’t slept for a week.

“No, sir, I haven’t.”

“I discovered that one of our footmen has been accepting bribes from Sir Ronald Fairbanks, which was how he managed to get in to our little soirée the other night. He’s been dismissed.”

“Is it possible that he told Sir Ronald about the list of names in your desk?”

“It’s highly likely. It might also mean that Harry stole the list to order.”

“To get back into Sir Ronald’s good graces, or blackmail him instead.” Alistair nodded. “Has there been any unusual activity by the men on the missing list?”

“A little. Two of them have removed large sums of money from their bank accounts recently.”

“Mayhap my brother is involved in a lot of blackmail these days. That’s the only reason I can think of for his return.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m waiting to see if either of them arranges to pass the money over to anyone we know.”

“The most pressing of Harry’s debts appear to be owed to the Demon Club. If he wishes to settle those, he’ll need the money by tomorrow night.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because the Demon Club collects payment on the last day of the month in person at their headquarters.”

“Harry told you this?”

“Indirectly.” Alistair hesitated and decided to go with a half truth. “If one wanted to catch Harry, a visit to the Demon Club on settlement day would be well worth contemplating.”

Adam Fisher actually shuddered. “I’d rather follow him into a flooded mine shaft. That place is as corrupt and unpleasant as I assume hell will be.”

“I could go, sir.”

“I don’t think you’d like it either, Alistair. The sexual acts that go on there are quite depraved.”

“But someone needs to be there.”

“And I’ll make sure someone is. Don’t worry about that. We will contrive.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Alistair had a strong suspicion that if Harry declined to attend the Demons, they would come for him instead, and he’d have no choice but to inspect the facilities in the most personal way possible. And if Harry disappeared again, Alistair might be taken in his place. But Harry might come through. He’d always tried to pay his debts to men of his own class.

Which somehow made his behavior even worse . . .

Alistair glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. In eight hours he was expected at the Demon Club, but he wouldn’t go willingly. If Harry had enough money, he’d be there instead, and Alistair wouldn’t be needed. After Harry paid his debts, Mr. Fisher’s agent would make sure Harry was apprehended and brought to a safe place for questioning.

And he would have the opportunity to face his brother with some questions of his own....

Returning to his own office, he scanned the new pile of correspondence that had just arrived and sorted it into three piles, one for Lord Keyes, one for Mr. Fisher, and the remainder for the ladies.

He pictured Diana at her desk, her expression preoccupied as she wrote one of her interminable lists. She was as unlike his late wife as a woman could possibly be. Gelis had needed him desperately, but Diana? He was the one who needed her. He found himself smiling as he picked up the pile of letters and headed for her office. He’d chosen Gelis because he’d wanted to be the one in control. But it hadn’t worked out that way. Her need had almost destroyed him. . . .

Was that what appealed to him about Diana Theale? That she was a survivor, that in a fight, she might be the one to stab him in the back and climb over his dead body to escape her fate. It didn’t frighten him. He would probably do the same. He tapped on the door and went in.

“Lady Theale, I—”

She jumped and so did her visitor.

“I do apologize. I thought you were alone.” Alistair slid the letters onto her desk. “Please excuse me.” He nodded in a general way at Diana’s guest and then looked more closely.

“Charlie?”

“Yes, Mr. Maclean. Good day.”

He looked back at Diana. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I was about to say the same thing. How do you know what Charlotte looks like?”

“I hunted her down at the pleasure house. This is the same Charlotte you were at school with?”

“Yes.”

He frowned at Charlie. “You might have mentioned your real name.”

“Why? I don’t like it. I promised Diana I wouldn’t tell her what I was up to with regard to your brother.”

“Why?”

“Because she is involved with you. She has standards about that kind of thing.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I suppose I do have something to tell you, though. Harry is still in London. An acquaintance of mine saw him last night.”

“Where?”

“In a brothel.” Charlotte snorted. “Where else? I doubt he’s still there, but I’ll check on my way back to the pleasure house.”

“May I come with you?”

She fixed him with an amused stare. “No, thank you. It’s not the sort of place a gentleman like yourself would be welcome.”

“And you would?” He gestured at her blue pelisse and straw bonnet. “You’re dressed like a debutante. You’ll be set upon in an instant.”

“I’m a whore, Mr. Maclean. A well-known one. I won’t be in any danger at all.” She sighed. “If your brother is there, I promise I’ll send you a message immediately.”

“I don’t like it, but it will have to do.” Alistair frowned. “Are you quite certain that—”

She was already moving toward the door. “Good-bye,
nice
Mr. Maclean. Good-bye, Diana, darling.”

Alistair turned back to Diana, who was looking pensive.

“Do you think she will be safe?”

“Charlotte? Yes. She is very good at taking care of herself.”

There was a distracted note in her voice that made Alistair study her more intently. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m just rather busy. Malinda is quite close to giving birth and wants her house to be perfect. She’s driving Lord Keyes mad, and I’m trying to accomplish miracles so that he doesn’t have to.”

“That’s all?”

“What else could there be?”

He took a step toward the desk. “Were you going to tell me that Charlotte had visited you?”

“Not unless she specifically asked me to, why?”

“You don’t think I have a right to know what is going on?”

“I believe we’ve already discussed this. Charlotte doesn’t interfere in my business, and I don’t interfere in hers.”

“But what about the security of the nation?”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Harry is implicated in a robbery of governmental evidence. Charlotte is very keen to find him. Don’t you think Lord Keyes or Mr. Fisher might be interested in speaking to her?”

She made an airy gesture. “They already know all about Charlotte.”

“So I’m the only person who isn’t given the same courtesy?”

“Why does it matter, Mr. Maclean?”

“Because you deliberately withheld information from me about my own brother!”

“For goodness’ sake! You tracked Charlotte down all by yourself and neglected to mention it to me.”

“Because—”

She interrupted him. “Because nothing, Mr. Maclean. You didn’t trust me enough to share the information.”

“I didn’t think it had anything to do with you.”

She threw up her hands. “I
knew
you would take everything the wrong way and assume that our relationship was based on something nefarious.”

“You’re suggesting that I’m at fault then?”

“I’m saying that the two things are completely and utterly separate.”

“Nothing is ever that clear-cut.”

“It is if you make up your mind to it.” She glared at him. “How else do you survive?”

He stared at her for a long moment as he fought to control his temper. “You demand a great deal from me, Lady Theale, but seem unwilling to offer much in return.”

“You were the one who insisted that your submission to me in the bedroom had nothing to do with the rest of your life. Why can’t I have the same courtesy from you?”

“Because these two things are not the same! I don’t assume you wish to control every single person you meet at the Sinners in the same way you control me. I
assume
that you are a capable, intelligent woman who can understand the difference between being loyal to her friend and being loyal to her country.”

“
That
is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said, Mr. Maclean. This isn’t about my loyalty to the country, or to the Sinners. You are hurt because I didn’t trust
you
.”

“That’s—” He stared at her, his breathing harsh in the silence. He bowed. “Good evening, Lady Theale.”

She picked up her pen. “I’m sure you are just as busy as I am, Mr. Maclean. Perhaps I will see you at dinner tonight?”