Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(20)

She reminded him of a wild animal being tempted nearer with offered food.

“My father got me a whore for my birthday. He wanted to free me of my virginity.” There, he’d said it.

“Is that all? That does not sound so bad.”

“Not so bad?” He had to work to keep his voice in check.

“I do not know much, but I believe my little brother has mentioned such things. I actually think he hoped my father would do such a thing for him when he reached sixteen.”

“I was thirty.”

“Oh.”

“He found it shameful that I was thirty and had never known a woman.”

A giggle. Only a slight one, but a definite giggle.

“And apparently my brothers agreed. They had all discussed the matter. They thought if I had a good f*ck I might loosen up. I actually walked into my father’s study to talk and found a naked doxy sitting on his desk. She asked if I had problems getting it up.”

Now that was a real giggle. “How could they ever think that of you?”

“I do not know. I will admit that I never lingered with the maids or the village girls. And even the local tavern wenches are not to my taste. I have always valued discretion and privacy.”

“Still …” She snorted.

“I do not know how they came to that conclusion. I have always frequented London, and surely they could have guessed.”

“I would have thought so.”

“But I was too much of a prude to ever indulge in my brothers’ activities. Perhaps I should have gone with them when they went out gambling in the evenings.”

“Perhaps you should have.” She grew pensive and began to worry on that lush lower lip again. “Did it hurt—your feelings, I mean—when they did that?”

What man would admit to hurt feelings? “I suppose it did. I was angry at first, quite furious. I am afraid I was not a gentleman at all when I hurried the woman from the house, not caring who saw. I do hope my father paid her first. I certainly did not.”

“Oh.”

He turned and looked at her. She’d drawn her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms about them.

The position gave him ideas. His cock began to stir again. He truly was an animal—or at least a man.

And he’d have rather thought of anything than the edge of vulnerability that sharing his history had brought.

And sex, f*cking, was the purpose of this night. He pushed all other thoughts away. Sex would bring control. It always did.

“Are you ready to proceed?” he asked.

She tensed, bit harder at her lip. “I don’t know.”

“I will promise not to laugh again—unless you tickle me. I should warn you: I do not like to be tickled.” He made his voice severe.

“I don’t think I care for it either, although it has been a decade or more since anyone has tickled me.”

“We agree to no tickling then, although some things may be ticklish. You will have to tell me if it is too much.”

“I agree to no tickling.”

Good, she’d agreed to proceed without even realizing it. “Should we have any other rules?”

“I don’t know—I think that should be clear by now. I know nothing.”

Damn. She sounded unsure again. “We can keep it simple. All you have to do is tell me if you want me to slow down or stop.”

“I can manage that. And you will do the same?”

“Of course.” Although, he certainly had no intention of giving her the chance to do anything that would displease him. “Now, I would like to move on. I will tell you what to do and I would like you to try it without questioning. If you do not like it, then and only then may you ask me to stop. You must try it first.”

“But no tickling.”

“No tickling. Now, what I want you to do first may seem strange, perhaps a bit awkward, but I want you to trust me. Can you do that?”





Chapter Seven





Trust? It all kept coming back to trust. The problem was she did trust him, even after his laughter. She had been more mad at herself than at him.

“What do you want me to do?”

He let out a deep breath. Had he doubted her? Surely he realized she was here to stay—although perhaps not, after her behavior of a moment ago.

“Stay as you are, but turn so your feet are toward the bottom of the bed,” he commanded.

Which way was the foot of the bed? After all her turning and scurrying, she did not know. And much as she strained, she could not tell where the fire was and orientate herself that way.

“Put your feet here.” He tapped the bed as if understanding her confusion.

She shuffled her behind around, following his direction.

“Now release your knees and let your arms fall to your sides.”

She did.

“Lie back, but keep your knees bent, just as they are.”

How did one do that? Putting her arms at her sides was easy, but lying back with her knees bent? She fell with a graceless flop, quickly bringing her ankles together.

His fingers wrapped about each ankle, holding them still. “Take your arms and reach over your head. Yes, just like that. God, you are beautiful. I wish you could see yourself, see how you look with your arms high, your breasts spread and waiting.”