Rachel Carrington (7 page)

“Another fact which you will not mention at dinner.”

Carla swallowed a gust of fury. “What are you talking about? Now, you’re going to tell me what topics I may discuss?”

“Do you really want the entire province to learn the means of your arrival? Do you realize what this could spark? We will have people from all over trying to drag your family, your friends into my world.

Do you really want that, Carla?”

Carla bit her lower lip. He had a point. If anyone had to be stuck here, she would rather it be her. A thought popped into her head and she grinned.

“What is funny?”

“I just pictured my mother being dragged into this world. You would be more than happy to help her achieve freedom, I’m thinking.”

“You do not like your mother.”

“I love my mother,” Carla objected.

“But you do not like her,” Sinclair continued in that same observing tone of voice that was beginning to grate on Carla’s nerves.

“Don’t presume to know who I do and don’t like.”

“You will need to control that temper of yours this evening as well. My family would never tolerate a lady of breeding speaking to the Duke in such a manner.” Sinclair walked slowly toward the wardrobe closet.

“What are you doing?”

“Choosing what you should wear tonight.”

Despite the frigidity of the air, Carla leaped to her feet and dashed across the room, wedging herself in front of the cabinet. “I haven’t needed anyone to help me dress in a very long time, Your Grace. You may leave now. I can assure you that I will choose the proper attire when the time is right. For now, I am freezing and I want to throw something on that will stop my teeth from chattering.”

Politely, silently, he moved out of her way and positioned his back to her. “The maids will be happy to assist you.”

“I know, I know, should I need assistance. I don’t.” She tossed the corset atop the blankets and gave it a disapproving look. “That thing is atrocious.”

“It is necessary.”

“For you, maybe, but not for me. I’m not going to wear it.”

When Sinclair spun around, he didn’t look pleased. “You must follow the proper ways of dress as long as you remain in my house.”

Carla clamped her hands on her hips. “Why? What are you going to do if I don’t? Beat me? Chain me up in the dungeon? I’m sorry, Sinclair, but I do not dress like that. I spent the better part of yesterday trying to position those bones away from my hips and now, I’m sure parts of my body are black and blue. I will not wear those things again.”

“My family will be here this evening. They will expect to see a lady of breeding. This—” Sinclair’s hand lifted the corset, “—constitutes a lady of breeding.”

“In your world.” Carla stood her ground.

“You try my patience.”

“And?”

He looked momentarily nonplussed. “Why do you ask ‘and’?”

“Because you said that I try your patience. What does that mean to me? Am I supposed to be concerned because you are irritated with me?”

“An ordinary person would.”

“Then I guess I’m not ordinary. Now, if you will leave me, I will try to find something that’s moderately comfortable to wear.” She turned her back toward him and scanned the contents of the armoire. “And by the way, you should try to understand that I am not what you’re trying to make me into.”

Sinclair reached the door, but he stopped, his hand on the doorframe. “What does that mean?”

“You want me to be this genteel lady who you can mold and shape into the perfect woman. That’s not going to happen. My world has had almost two hundred years of change toward women. There’s no way that you’re going to be able to make me regress simply because I’m in 1811.”

Sinclair tossing her a baiting look. “We shall see.”

“One of the maids mentioned last night that there are rooms here in the castle where I would not be allowed. What are those rooms? What’s in them?”

“The maid spoke out of turn. She should not have mentioned such rooms to you. A woman has no place in them.”

“Do they hold secrets?”

He chuckled. “They hold ammunition and weapons. There are other rooms where you will not be allowed as well, but you will learn as you go along.”

“So I’m to be treated as a lowly woman while I am here.”

He eyed her strangely. “You are a woman, but one would never call you lowly.” His gaze dropped from her face to her breasts. “In fact, I would not consider any part of you lowly, Miss Morgan.” He returned his attention to her face.

Carla felt his eyes sizzle across the distance and he touched her without even making a move toward her.

Even now, her nipples were chafing against the linen nightgown. Perhaps that had been why he was staring. She resisted the urge to fold her arms over them. “You stare at me a lot.”

He didn’t deny the obvious. “I like looking at you.”

“I’m sure there are other things you would like to do as well.” Why had she said that? She couldn’t have issued a louder invitation.

He moved away from the door and Carla’s heart began to thump loudly. She needed to say something to stop his approach, but the look of determination on his face told her there was little she could say. She tried anyway.

“You should leave.”

“And you should be careful of how you speak to a nobleman.”

Her temper surged. She snorted in a most unladylike manner. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to curtsy?”

He reached her and fisted one hand in her hair. He gave the thick mass a gentle tug. “Impertinent wench.” He ground his hips against hers in blatant suggestion.

Her eyes widened and she saw his drop to her lips. Oh God, he was going to kiss her again. Her lashes drifted toward her cheeks and then she heard a curse. Her eyes popped open and she stared at him.

“I will not take you like this,” Sinclair said almost bitterly. Even as he spoke, his hand palmed one of her breasts.

Her body hummed with a mixture of disappointment and anticipation. “You will not take me at all.” He plucked at her nipple, pinching in between her fingers and the pleasure-pain sent shivers of excitement down her spine. She wanted to feel his lips on that sensitive flesh. Would she feel the pull all the way down to her clit? She gritted her teeth to keep from panting.

He grabbed her ass and yanked her even closer to the hard length of his body. Carla felt the distinct press of his thick cock against her thigh. “Was now the proper time and place, Carla, I would toss you on that bed and learn every inch of your delectable body. But as I said, I will not take you like this. Later, when you have learned what you need to know, there will be time.” His eyes bored into hers, heat and warning in their depths. “Just be careful how you speak to me in the future. I cannot always control myself when I am around you.”

His heat burned through the thin nightdress she wore while his hand continued to worry her nipple. “Let go of me. I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Liar,” he challenged. His hands returned to her hair, pulling with a little more force. Before Carla could squirm away, he captured her lips again. The force of the kiss stunned her and she opened her mouth to protest. His tongue took advantage of the entry point and swept inside, gliding over the moist walls of her mouth. Her pussy grew damp and she wondered at a man who could keep her constantly moist.

As if hearing her thoughts, Sinclair palmed her mound through her thin nightgown and the warmth of his skin pressing against her pussy sent her senses into overload. His lips left hers to nuzzle her neck and heat spiraled through her, making her clit twitch.

Unable to resist, Carla bumped her hand against his straining cock, the hardness thrilling her. She began to massage the thickness and Sinclair’s breath came out on a strangled gasp. God, he was so hard. She wanted to see him, to curl her fingers around his length, but Sinclair had other plans in mind.

He backed her toward the bed while one hand worked its way up under her nightgown. Goose bumps popped up on her skin and Carla’s knees went weak as his fingers tiptoed up her thigh. He pushed her down onto the mattress while his knuckles brushed over her panties. Her vision glazed. Surely, he could feel the wetness. He tickled her lightly and she fought to breathe, to focus on anything other than the wicked, delicious sensations buffeting her.

Edging her panties to one side, he glided one thick finger over the lips of her pussy with such softness that Carla’s breath snagged in her throat. His head lifted, eyes meeting hers. Her senses whirled around her like a kaleidoscope and she clutched at his arms. But when he brought that same finger to his lips and tasted her moisture, she closed her eyes, moaning in pure bliss.

“I want to put my fingers inside you, to sink deep into your pussy.” He stepped closer to her, his legs bumping against hers. “Is that what you want me to do, Carla?” His voice was husky and harsh.

She bobbed her head in agreement. What else could she say? Right now, she craved his touch as much as she needed caffeine in the morning. She wanted so much more than fingers. This was her fantasy, the images she’d created in her mind the night before she’d left to come to England. And she had no doubt, he could fulfill every one.

He pushed the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, hooked his hands into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down her legs. The silky material pooled around her ankles, but Carla didn’t bother to kick them off for Sinclair had already returned his attention to her pussy. His fingers dipped between her swollen lips and found her clit easily. She jerked and moaned as he began to stroke her lightly, then faster and faster until her ass bucked off the bed.

Carla couldn’t think. Perspiration coated her skin and her knees began to wobble. She hooked her hands into his shirt and brought him lower, reaching for his lips again. She kissed him frantically, desperately, the tongues meshing in wild, reckless abandon. Sinclair’s hand began a wild assault on her pussy, his fingers alternating between rolling her clit between calloused tips and delving into her creaminess. He thrust so deep she cried out, her muscles clenching around the thickness. Sinclair lifted his head to issue a command in a hoarse voice. “Say my name, Carla.”

She couldn’t deny him, not when she was so close. “Sinclair.”

“Let me feel your hot sweetness. I want to hear you come.” He increased the rhythm and pressing harder and faster.

She clawed at his shoulders and threw her head back while his thumb danced over her clit. “Oh God,”

she cried out. “I’m…” The orgasm clenched her muscles and sent them into spasms. She dropped her head to his chest and bucked against his fingers, needing the release in spite of her fight against the man giving it.

As Sinclair’s fingers withdrew from her dripping pussy, he grabbed hold of her legs and spread them wider. He knelt down in front of her, worshipping her thighs with his palms. His tongue replaced his hands and he lapped at her skin while Carla’s hands sought his hair. She needed something, anything to hold onto.

“Can you come again?” he asked in a guttural voice.

All the blood rushed to her head and she could do no more than nod.

Sweet Jesus. He was so close, his face hovering over her pussy. Did he intend to…?

Sinclair blew a soft breath of air, stirring the hair covering her quim. Dear God, he did intend to! It had been so long.

For several long, agonizing moments, Sinclair stayed in that same position, inhaling her scent with his eyes closed. Nervous fingers tiptoed up her spine and she wondered if he was as masterful at licking as he was at touching. As the moments stretched into a full minute, she began to squirm. “Sinclair,” she whispered. She had nothing else to say. She didn’t know a polite way to say, “eat my pussy now”.

“Shhhh,” he instructed, dropping lower until his lips grazed hers. “I love the way you smell.” His tongue touched the top of her pussy, that small indentation a hairsbreadth away from her clit. “And I wonder—”

he licked the crease of her cleft slowly, “—will you taste like honey?” He parted the lips of her pussy and groaned low in his throat. “You’re so beautiful and pink.”

She tensed, waiting for that first touch of his tongue to her clit. He took his time, licking each crease, each wall with unerring precision. He traveled down to her opening and thrust inside. Her hips began to move, gyrating atop the mattress as the frustration mounted.

“Sinclair, please.”

He paused in his enjoyment. “Please what, Carla? Am I not pleasing you now? Do you wish for me to stop?” The taunting tones of his voice sent her over the edge. She yanked hard on his hair and bucked upwards.

“Eat me now. I need to feel your tongue on my clit. Make me come.” She didn’t leave any part of her request to the imagination.

He gave her a mock look of anger. “We really do need to work on your manners, but—” his finger caressed her pussy gently, “—I suppose I’ll have to excuse you this time.” With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he lowered his head once more.

Carla held her breath until his tongue circled her clit and then she cried out, lifting her hips up off the bed.

His hands grasped the globes of her ass and dragged her pussy up until he could feast liberally. Holding her in place, he sank into her, suckling her. Licking her. Lavishing her.

Dear God. She’d never been eaten quite this way before. Sinclair made eating pussy into an art. He rolled her clit between his tongue, tickling the tip and as if sensing the pressure was building inside of her, he focused his attention on her lips again.

Maddening.

She clamped her legs around his neck and urged him to continue the assault. His fingers sank deep into her channel while his tongue returned to her clit. He caught the tiny nub between his teeth and Carla screamed with wonder and delight. The sensations were stabbing her, tearing at her from the inside out.

Languid warmth began to spread over her and she felt the first clench of her muscles. As she began to come, Sinclair twisted his fingers, spreading them wide to feel the contractions of her muscles. And he continued to tease her clit, suckling and licking until she came again and again. Until her muscles resisted even the slightest movement.