The Baron and the Mistress Page 4

  Tears welled in Jon’s blue eyes. “It’s all my fault we had to leave! If only I did what he wanted,” he sobbed. What fresh horror was this? Jon wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his nightshirt. “Do not ask me.”

  Not today she wouldn’t, but she could well guess. Her heart ached for them all. No wonder Jon’s face appeared haunted at times. Chastity fought to keep the emotion from her voice. “Very well, Jon. I will not. But you must accept the situation we are in and take advantage of the opportunities we will be offered. Clean clothes, food, a warm fire, an education, good health, and the possibility of a decent occupation and a solid future. To give you both all this and more I would sacrifice anything. Do—anything. Baron Wenlock is not a cruel man from what I can perceive. He will not treat me ill. Promise me you will grant his lordship the respect he deserves.”

  Jon nodded, and then threw his arms around her neck. Still a little lad in many ways. She hugged him back. Hannah joined their embrace. She spoke the truth. Deep down she surmised the baron would not be cruel, but who knew for certain? For her brother and sister she would sacrifice everything.

  Chapter Six

  The day passed in a blur. Never had his townhouse seen such activity. Ash’s solicitor came later in the afternoon and the contract was finalized and signed by Chastity. Dressmakers arrived, taking measurements of the Armitages and sturdy, clean, secondhand clothing procured until the new garments were ready. He paid a king’s ransom to hurry along the order, but it did not matter as his father had left him quite rich.

  His thoughts slid to his late father, an honorable man who stayed faithful to his dead wife even five years after her passing. His father never took a mistress as far as Ash knew. Wonder what he would think of this arrangement? The late baron had never admonished him on his wild and wicked ways, gaming and whoring and such as Ash did not indulge to excess or let it interfere with his duties. Since he’d become Baron of Wenlock after his sire’s untimely death, he followed in his father’s footsteps and took his responsibilities seriously. Now he would have new responsibilities since he would be accountable for Chastity and her siblings. Quite an undertaking. All this falderal to ensure a certain woman comes to his bed.

  Pacing about his room, Ash rubbed his hands in irritation. His thoughts raced back to the other night and the dirty room above the inn. His reaction to her sucking his cock all but turned him to a puddle of submissive desire. Not a reaction he was entirely used to when with a woman. The kiss affected him more if that were possible, flustering him to such an extent he escaped before revealing more than he wished. Hence his quick exit and escort to the alley.

  Then as soon as she was swallowed up by the thick, rolling fog, he realized he did not want to be parted from her. Against all logic he followed her to her pathetic lodgings and made his hasty proposal. The die cast, he had the sinking feeling when he did finally consummate their arrangement it would change everything. In his past assignations he kept emotion and sentiment out of the coupling. Stay detached, take his pleasure, and move on. He must ensure it happened here between himself and Chastity.

  The young woman was in his employ and to be available for him whenever he felt an amorous itch. Tonight, he would show her what would exist between them. Sexual gratification and nothing else. If this arrangement was perfectly acceptable and commonly done, why did feelings of guilt pick at his soul? The clock on the mantel read ten o’clock. As he paced about his room like a caged lion, he pulled the sash on his dressing gown tighter. He wore nothing underneath but a pair of trousers. Already he was hard and aching as he’d been on and off since her arrival.

  Last night in the bath. Washing her aroused him to such an extent he gave himself release twice during the night. The imperious manner in which he made his exit was false at its core. The sole reason is he had to leave before he made a fool of himself. He would have dropped to his knees and begged her to suck his cock again, to kiss him and hold him in her embrace—to love him without the enticement of coin, contract, and clauses. Control rapidly slipped away the more he was in her presence, a prospect he thought he would never find himself in with any woman. He would be her abject and worshipful—slave. Isn’t this what he always desired, a woman who would enslave him heart and soul and be willing to allow the same be done with her? An intelligent, passionate woman who would stand up to him, share his life, his dreams, and his darkest desires.

  Where exactly did he hope to find this paragon of female passion if his latest conquests consisted of older widows and younger whores? Yet, he believed Chastity could be everything he gave up hope of ever finding. In the meantime, until he knew for sure, he must remain disengaged. Ash took a deep breath and then exhaled. Making sure his face revealed none of the many emotions churning inside him he knocked twice on the connecting door and stepped across the threshold.

  Chastity sat on the edge of the bed, her glorious crown of golden-brown hair tumbling loose past her shoulders. She wore a prim and simple nightgown, probably borrowed from one of the maids. The roar of lust that tore through him shocked him to his bare feet. A vision of him tearing the cotton shift from her body made his blood fire and blaze in his veins. Damn it all, he must control himself. No kisses. Blast it, the last one they shared had nearly brought him to his knees.

  Chastity faced him. She managed to look indifferent as well or was she masking deeper emotions as he did? Fine, it would make the act all the easier to accomplish. Loosening the sash, he let the dressing gown slither to the floor. Her eyes widened and her gaze grew heated, which hardened his cock further. He kept himself in shape with various sporting activities such as riding, boxing, and fencing. Also, he indulged in sporadic physical labor at Wenlock Manor to stay active and fit. Many women admired his form, but seeing Chastity’s open appreciation made his heart swell with masculine satisfaction.

  She stood, and he strode toward her. In a quick movement, Ash pulled the nightgown over her head and tossed aside. Last night he admired her naked form, but standing before him exposed he took his time and savored the view. As he’d observed—too thin, but still enough silky skin to admire and worship. Her breasts were not small, but neither overlarge. A perfect fit for his hands.

  No need to delay. He laid her back on the bed, her legs dangling over the side. Moving her to the edge, he spread her thighs and stroked her. Chastity responded with a slight moan and a slow roll of her hips. Wetness coated his fingers. The blood that raged through his veins thrummed and pounded in his head. He unfastened the buttons on his trousers and pulled out his erect cock. Ash reached in his side pocket and retrieved an envelope. With a swift motion, he slipped on the sheath. Perhaps he should bring her along more, heighten her arousal, but he couldn’t wait. Looping his arms under her knees, he spread her wide and plunged in. Chastity gasped, so he stilled for a moment giving her time to adjust to him. Her tight quim clutched him in a decidedly possessive and intimate manner.

  “I...I...need...” God, how pathetic he sounded. To hell with talking. The less said the better. The thrusts were deep and fast, the bed springs squeaking with his effort. Swollen, wet, and aroused, Chastity lifted her hips up to meet his fierce plunges. She did not touch him, however, just lay open, exposed, and giving, letting him take what he needed. But she was hardly unaffected. Soft, husky moans left her luscious lips which caused him to pump her with wild abandon. His bollocks tightened and his head swam from the intense lust possessing him.

  Grunting and straining, he reached for that unknown place of utter bliss. A place he had never been before, but for once it lay within his grasp. Ash closed his eyes and a multitude of swirling colors swam in his vision. With one final thrust he came, hard, violent, and very loud. Maybe he yelled her name, but he could not be sure. Sweat ran in rivulets down the valley of his spine. He backed away and almost stumbled as his legs were like jelly.

  Chastity leaned up on her elbows and stared at him in puzzlement, her legs still spread wide. The realization hit him that he did not see to her pleasure
at all. Instead, he rutted her like a wild stag. Ash reached for his dressing gown and stomped from the room slamming the door behind him.

  ***

  Chastity blinked and tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. That was it? Was she that terrible? Her performance so inadequate he stormed from the room? She stared at the closed connecting door in disbelief. Would this be the extent of their couplings? She became aroused. The feeling of Ash filling and stretching her was almost too heavenly to bear. Yet, he did not look at her at all nor did he touch or kiss her. Just thrust away. But isn’t that what she’d observed in Shag Alley? Men taking their selfish pleasure. Why would Ash be any different? She thought—or hoped—he would be dissimilar. The kiss he gave her at the inn, passionate and powerful with such emotion behind it, had her clinging to the absurd notion that Ash cared. Surely she did not imagine it.

  Wiping her eyes with her arm she stood, reached for the nightgown, and slipped it over her head. She dipped the cloth in the basin and wiped at her swollen folds. Since he wore the sheath as he said he would, the only moisture between her legs belonged to her. She shuddered as the wet cloth made contact with her sensitive area. The selfish man left her in an aroused state. Anger boiled in her veins. Tossing the cloth aside, she marched toward the connecting door. Leaning in close, Chastity could not hear anything. After turning the handle, she slipped inside.

  By the window stood the silhouette of a shirtless Ash, moonlight cast him in a splendid illumination. He leaned on a side table, his hand spread on the surface to anchor him while his other hand seemed to be clasping his....Good heavens. She glided toward him, fascinated at what he was doing to himself. A ragged groan escaped him when his gaze met hers. “Go back to your room,” he growled, pumping his shaft faster.

  Chastity could see the painful anguish on his face. She laid her hand on top of his. “Let me do this for you. It is why I am here, Ash.”

  He stilled for a moment, and then pulled his hand away. “Grip it tight. Tighter. Yes, like that. Now stroke me—hard.” His voice had an agonizing, but commanding tone.

  Apparently she did not satisfy him. So he retired to his room to see to his own gratification? Chastity did as he asked, watching intently as the swollen purple head disappeared beneath the silky foreskin covering it. He filled her hand, hot, alive, and potent. “I was not enough for you? You did not receive any enjoyment ‘fucking me’ as you call it?”

  At her saying the naughty word, he moaned. “If you knew what you do to me. Why do you think I am still in this state?”

  Slowing the slide of her hand, a wave of happiness rolled through her. Truthfully, she should not be pleased at his confession. However, he did warn her he was of an amorous nature. The prospect actually thrilled her.

  He clasped her hand tight, increasing the pace. “Faster. Make me come. I want to spill all over your hand. I want this” —he squeezed his cock— “inside you always. Deep. I want to pin you to the bed and fuck you until both of us are spent and senseless.”

  His guttural, erotic speech thrilled her to her toes. My word, did he mean it? Then why did he—a harsh groan left his throat as his hot seed spilled over their hands. “Damn it all!” he snarled, backing away from her. Ash shook and shuddered. In their few days of acquaintance she had never seen him so vulnerable and undone. How magnificent he looked standing in the muted moonlight. She picked up the cloth lying next to the basin and taking his hand, wiped away the evidence of his desire and then did the same to her own. His breathing was harsh and uneven. “You must think me an animal. It is why I left your bedroom. I did not want to force my base lust on you.”

  “I’m your mistress. You can unleash your lust if you wish.” She replied in a quiet voice.

  She moved the cloth to his still semi-hard shaft and cleaned that as well. It twitched under her touch. “I am not sure that is wise. I want to do things with you I have done with no other woman.”

  Chastity glanced up at him. His golden-cognac eyes gleamed with licentious longing. She recognized the look now and it her seized her breath. “You do?”

  “From the very moment I saw you at the ball. While you stood talking to the other young ladies I imagined bending you across the nearby settee, rucking up your gown, and thrusting into your wetness. With everyone watching.” He shook his head. “And I cannot believe I just confessed this to you.”

  A wicked thrill sparked her senses and made her heart flutter. Ash truly was a beast, but he did not frighten her with his frank and sensual talk. A shocking revelation to find he stirred such passion in her, but not entirely unwelcome. “Ash...”

  “Lust made me pester my father to arrange an introduction. When I finally gained his agreement we found you’d already gone. I cannot begin to describe the disappointment at the news of your departure. If only I had managed to come sooner. Damn society and decorum. I should have broken down the door the very next day after the ball and whisked you away.”

  “You were not to know my fate,” she murmured.

  “No, but I should not have made you my mistress. My need for you overrode all common sense. No other woman has roused such reactions in me. I should not be subjecting you to it.”

  She cupped his cheek. Soft whiskers teased her fingers. “I do not mind. You are very handsome. It is not a hardship to see to your needs.”

  Giving her a sweet smile, he covered her hand with his. “But I did not see to your needs at all. Let me remedy the situation immediately.”

  Ash stepped back, swiping the few items on the table to the floor. He lifted her into his arms and sat her on the surface. Pulling her to the edge he spread her legs and then slowly rolled her nightgown past her waist. He dropped to his knees; his heated expression sent a thrill through her. Ash nuzzled her inner thigh. “Let me give you pleasure. I want you to come apart under my tongue. I want to taste you, lick you, and drink your very essence.”

  Ash’s voice, rough with passion, ignited her own desire. She spread her legs wider. “Then, taste me.”

  Ash dove in and flicked her hardened nub with his wicked tongue. After he spread her open with his long, elegant fingers, he feasted on every part of her feminine core. Chastity clutched a handful of his silky black hair and guided his thrusts. That wondrous feeling built again as if she were scaling a great height.

  Ash pulled back. “Feel it? Let yourself fly, Chas. Come for me. Beg me for more.”

  Chas? Oh, heavens. She liked that. And since he looked up at her with such a poignant and passionate gaze, how could she not do as he asked? “I beg you, I beseech you,” she whispered in a husky voice.

  Ash groaned at her sensual plea. A slight smile curved about her lips as it seemed she begged him after all. His response sent sparks up and down her spine.

  “What do you desire? Tell me what you want me to do—please.” His tone pleaded as well as rasped. As he said, he would beg as well.

  “Lick and taste my...” What should she call it? She heard the naughty slang many times, but had no idea what to say. Her cheeks burned hot in discomfort.

  “Pussy. Quim. Muff. Notch. Cunny. Bloody paradise,” Ash offered, his voice hoarse.

  She gave him a brilliant smile. “Cunny, then. Lick my cunny.”

  With a teasing wink, he leaned in and did as she asked with a concentrated fervor that made her tremble. He must enjoy tasting her as he clutched his shaft once again, stroking in tandem with the deep plunge of his sinful tongue. Chastity’s breath came fast and uneven. The more she moaned and writhed on the table the faster he worked. He bit down gently on her nub and she cried out. Spikes of desire shot through her as sexual release hit hard. As he suggested she let it happen and reveled in the new sensations sparking her body. Ash groaned and laid his cheek against the inside of her thigh as he shook with his own climax.

  How utterly wonderful! What would they do now—share a bed? Sleep in each other’s arms? Perhaps after a rest, explore and enjoy each other more? The anticipation of continuing and sharing such an intima
cy with him covered her with a warm roll of expectant desire. She was about to speak when Ash stood and turned from her. “Go back to your room, Chastity.”

  Her blood turned cold. The imperious lord had returned. All his heartfelt confessions and proclamations vanished into nothingness. He dismissed her—since he had his full. Angry tears clustered on her lashes, but she blinked them back. Fine. Chastity hopped off the table and lowered her nightgown. “Goodnight, my lord,” she answered in her coolest tone. He would not even look at her. As Chastity strode from the room she made a vow. Never would she allow him to make her feel anything beyond the carnal. Ever.

  Chapter Seven

  The day after their impassioned, erotic encounter, Ash temporarily moved into a few rooms at his club as he said he would. Time to distance himself from the temptation of Chastity and try and sort out his confused and jumbled thoughts. Truthfully speaking, he handled their night together rather badly. His foolish plan for staying detached crumbled to dust. He’d been anything but, his emotions and actions ran the gamut. Losing control and confessing such chaotic feelings as he did was damned embarrassing. Like the coward he is, he could not face her.

  One emotion besides lust he did acknowledge—guilt. He could soothe his soul and tell himself he gave assistance to Chastity by removing her and her siblings from the street by giving them food, shelter, and other comforts. The truth remained he acted on his own selfish desires more than anything and it rankled. This arrangement, though acceptable in society even though it was not spoken of in polite circles, did not sit well with him. His own arrogance disgusted him.

  Five days passed since he moved to his club. Ash stopped by the townhouse in the afternoons and retired to his study to address his correspondence. God knows what Chastity did to amuse herself; she remained cloistered away. They did not share any meals. Chastity took a tray in her room while the children took theirs in the schoolroom with the new governess. Chastity’s brother and sister kept to the rooms in the attic and to the sitting room on the third floor. Most nights he ate at the club or some other pub or tavern.