Author: Virginia Vice
Category: Historical
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/45305_10
"You went off to see old Eugenius, didn't you, love?" he chuckled, circling her now like a starved creature eyeing its prey. "You wouldn't be the first t' think he's some sort of respectable... something, anything, other than the filthy lecher he is. I could've warned you about that bloody old pervert, darling," he shook his head, looming in closer to catch a whiff of Lady Duskwood's scent.
"I've sim... simply tried, what I know, to resolve the matter of the debt between our estates. Now, I've come to you to try to negotiate the terms," she said, quaking under the feeling of him; his powerful and rebellious presence made it hard for her to keep her composure.
"It's okay, love. I forgive you," he whispered into her ear. She felt the tickle of his breath on her neck and she thought about how much better he felt, in so many ways, than the Duke of Thrushmore - the man so many had taken to be a true 'gentleman'. Instead, this filthy rogue now held her fate in his hands, but she couldn't deny that his presence made her melt; made her legs shiver, her thighs blush warm and red.
"Please don't call me that," she protested meekly.
"What?" he pressed her, his lips dancing so feverishly close to her neck.
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"If... if it's my hand in... in marriage you want, m'lord, I've come to... negotiate, a courtship, to..."
"Courtship? Don't you remember the terms we talked about, hm?" he taunted. "It's not marriage I'm after."
"Wh... what?" she asked, her voice a ghostly whisper.
"Marriage means nothing, love. I told you - there's something a lot more useful to me than a fake marriage, a fake ceremony, and the fake esteem it brings to the fake people who call themselves nobility," Ellery breathed hotly into her ear.
"What do you want, then?..." she asks, tremors shaking her spine.
"I want you. Completely. Your body, your inhibitions, your dreams - your desires. The ones I know you have, the ones you pretend not to notice, because in polite company you'd be ostracized forever for vocalizing them. The dirty ones, the dark ones, the filthy ones," he prods at her. She feels his hands on her hips, and though her first desire is to pull away from so brash a man, something about it feels so perfect - his strong, handsome body against her back giving her a divine sense of warmth.
"I don't... have those... kinds of things. I don't think about that... I'm not an animal, like you," she defies him weakly.
"Everyone has desires... and it won't be long before I find yours. Consider it a part of our bargain," he smirked against her earlobe, nibbling at the skin and breathing hard into her ear, and suddenly she felt her own heart pounding hard and fast, her hands shaking; her cheeks bright red. She tilted her head towards his lips; they felt warm, inviting, and she found some sick sense of comfort in a man so willing to embrace parts of him that a man like the Duke of Thrushmore kept hidden, deceiving women with his status as a 'gentleman'.
"I... will let you court
me, if..." she couldn't complete her sentence; his gorgeous face pressed to hers and they met in a kiss, one that had her heart set alight and her lungs heaving for breath; the kiss ignited passion like a flame to a wick, and she sizzled at his touch, his strong hand flowing possessively along her cheek.
"Come with me. The first part of our agreement," he exhales hotly. He grasps at her wrist and leads her towards the hallway.
She follows - hesitant at first. But she follows.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"I'll do things to you in this bedroom that you'll not have even thought of - things that a woman like you could never imagine. And I want you to give yourself up to me - and you'll learn more about yourself than you could ever have guessed," Lord Brighton promised teasingly into her ear as the door to his bedchamber swung open under his forceful grasp. Wind gusted against Lady Duskwood's skin and he pulled her in to the room, power in his arms as he pulled her towards the bed. She resisted - she had not imagined this to be the setting of this particular moment in her life.
"Lord Br... Brighton," she huffed, her body hot and her throat burning with the sensation of so many steamy breaths, "I've... I've never... I've never been with a man before. I've wanted, waited for the precise moment, and..."
"You've never been with a man?" Ellery grinned; he sat her onto the edge of the bed, bending close, biting at her lips. His teeth pressed softly to her skin she shuddered and squirmed, feeling a pleasurable sting she had never felt before.
"No, and..."
"I promise I'll go easy on you... the first time," he toyed with her, running his lips along hers, until his kisses led him to her ear. "I'll take you quickly... gently, perhaps... but it won't be what you imagined..." he promised, his hands rolling along her sides, tugging at her black dress.
"Lord Brighton, I don't know that this is... entirely... proper," she clung tightly to those last few protests, the last few she could make, her body shuddering, rebelling against her words, every touch of his driving her secretly wild. She could never bring herself to admit it, certainly not allowed, but this man did things to her she had never felt her body do before - the way she moistened, the way his kisses burned her to her very core. He pushed down on her shoulders and she melted at his subtle command; he laid atop her, kissing across her neck, down to her throat, to the top of her bust, leaving a hot and steamy trail of desire painted across her smooth skin.
"Ellery. Call me Ellery," he murmured.
"But, Lord Brighton..."
"Ellery," he insisted, with a wolfish growl at the back of his throat. "I demand it." Demand. His demand made her feel something so primordial, so elemental, tingling in her bones; a need she had never knew she had. A need to be subjugated by someone so strong and sexy; someone so in tune with himself, and with what he wanted. She could never have bowed at the demands of a slime like the Duke of Thrushmore - someone trying so hard to dominate, while being little more than an old, wizened liar.
Lord Brighton... Ellery... he was so very different.
"Ellery," she cooed, her body supple and pliant, her back arching out against his strong chest.
"Good girl," he rewarded her with a bite at her neck; her eyes widened and she hissed a breath in protest at the sensation, but she realized then just how much it didn't hurt. In fact... she liked it. She hated that she liked it... but she liked it. She liked Ellery squeezing her breasts; she liked his teeth digging into her flesh, leaving a bruise and searing, pleasurable pain racing through her veins. A part of what he had said was right, and her mind rebelled at the very thought that this roguish animal could be right about the secret desires she didn't know about, buried inside of her body; hidden by the proper ordering of high society she had suffered through her whole life.